Sunset Shimmer, magus-for-hire in the corrupt city of Freeport, finds herself in over her head when a mission to aid a village under attack by undead leads her to an old enemy and a terrifying new threat.
Sunset Shimmer had grand ambitions upon becoming Freeport's only magus, most importantly helping out the citizens of Freeport itself. When she hears of an outlying farming community in danger from a horde of undead, she knows she has to help them. Even if they can't pay her fees, it's the right thing to do.
However, this new challenge might be too much for her to handle. These zombies are unlike anything she's ever seen, and an old enemy is mixed up in the middle of all of this. Sunset has no idea what dark secrets the undead horde hides, or the danger posed by the necromancer behind it.
I should have known something big was coming. It had been a month since anything had tried to kill me. Well, seriously tried. The sludge monster I’d gone up against in the sewers didn’t count. All it managed to do before I banished it was ruin a good set of robes beyond saving and leave me in dire need of a shower.
Thankfully, I had plenty of side projects to occupy my time. All the money I was making as a magus-for-hire wound up going straight back into research projects, and I’d decided to follow in Celestia’s hoofsteps by taking on a faithful student of my own. “Alright, Kukri, let's see how your telekinesis is coming along.”
My little changeling apprentice nodded dutifully. “Got it!” Her horn lit up with the same green glow all changelings seemed to share, and after several seconds a glass of water very shakily rose from the nearby table and wobbled through the air, heading roughly in my direction without spilling too much.
“That’s a good start.” I kept my tone gentle and even, trying to match the way Celestia always talked when she taught me. Yeah, she might not have been a perfect teacher, but she still made a pretty good point of reference. As long as I didn’t decide to replace Kukri with some random nobody with no warning or explanation and then promote that random nobody over the student who’d loyally served me for years, her techniques should work out alright.
A second later I spotted the first of many things I would need to correct. “Kukri, don’t close your eyes or stick your tongue out while you’re casting.”
“This one find it easier to concentrate on its spell with its eyes closed,” Kukri murmured in her own defense.
“Yeah, but you need to be able to actually see what you’re doing,” I pointed out. “You need to learn how to cast the spells the right way from the start, or else you can pick up bad habits that’ll take a long time to break.”
“Oh.” She frowned thoughtfully, then cocked her head to the side. “This one must ask, how does sticking its tongue out impede its ability to cast spells?”
“It looks silly,” I explained. “Unicorns cast spells with dignity and grace. We don’t pull funny faces or make a bunch of silly gestures.”
“This one’s uncle Glaive says that it doesn’t matter if something looks silly as long as it works,” Kukri shot back stubbornly.
“And I’m sure a pegasus knows all about the ins and outs of unicorn magic.” I sighed and shook my head. “Look, being a proper magus is as much about image as anything else. We aren’t just amateur spellslingers, we’re masters of magic. That means you need to look the part—if you go around with your eyes closed and a goofy look on your face, nobody’s going to take you seriously. I won’t have anyone laughing at my apprentice.”
Kukri sighed and nodded. “Yes, Shimmer-mare.” She took a deep breath and tried it again, this time managing to keep her eyes open and her tongue in her mouth. Unfortunately, more than half the water had spilled out of it by the time she’d carried the glass all the way over to herself. Probably because she was worrying too much about her eyes and tongue and not enough about the spell.
Teaching was a lot harder than it had looked when I’d been the student. “Keep focused on the spell. You can’t afford to spend so much of your concentration on other things.”
“Then it doesn’t matter if this one sticks its tongue out?” Kukri asked.
“No, you just need to get in the habit of doing it without thinking.” I chuckled softly and ruffled her head crest. “Remember: dignity and grace.”
“Of course, Shimmer-mare.” She took the half-empty glass of water and rather noisily slurped up the contents.
After a valiant internal struggle I repressed the urge to groan and facehoof. I should’ve known that a kid who spent a year working on a sailing ship would be a bit behind the curve when it came to high society manners. For that matter, Freeport itself wasn’t exactly the politest place in the world.
Once Kukri finished noisily slurping down her water, she turned to me with an eager grin. “What next, Shimmer-mare? Will you teach this one how to make fire? Or ice? Or even how to use both at once the way you do?”
“Not today.” Pyromancy was one of the those subjects that wasn’t a lot of fun for beginners. If I ever got around to teaching it to Kukri, we’d probably have to head to an outlying island to hammer down the basics. Shockingly, amateur pyromancers can sometimes accidently set things on fire. While I could probably contain and extinguish any accidents before they caused too much damage, I wasn’t exactly eager to take a chance when we were practicing in my tower, which happened to be in the middle of a city.
“What about teleportation?” she asked eagerly. Before I could even explain that the spell I used was one of Celestia’s personal inventions that was both fiendishly complicated and probably something she wouldn’t want me spreading around, Kukri eagerly continued onward. “Or enchanting? Or invisibility, or potions, or runes, or—
Past experience told me that Kukri could go on for hours when she got worked up enough. Fortunately, someone started knocking on the front door to my tower, providing a perfect excuse to cut her off before she built up too much momentum. “Lemme show you one of my newest spells. It involves sending my apprentice to go answer the door so I don’t have to.”
“That doesn’t sound like a real spell,” Kukri answered skeptically.
“Door,” I prompted her, pointing towards it. “Answer. Now.”
Kukri grinned teasingly at me. “This one thought the Shimmer-mare said that proper spellwork does not involve gestures or incantations.”
A part of me was amused by the sass, but that didn’t mean I was going to let her off easy. “Watch out, or I’ll show my spell for cleaning the entire tower with a toothbrush.”
“This one does not believe it needs to learn that spell,” Kukri replied meekly.
I headed to my office, while she trotted over to the door, then took a moment to straighten her shoulders, puff out her chest, and line up her hooves so that she looked like a proper little lady. Or rather, an eleven-year-old’s idea of what a proper lady ought to look like—I’m no fashion critic, but she was trying way too hard. Much like her bad spellcasting habits, she would just have to work on improving herself until it became second nature. I know it had taken a while for me to learn it all.
Once she was done composing herself,, Kukri opened the door, revealing a rather dirty brown hippogryph—zyphon, rather, given the stripes—wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat. The zyphon doffed his hat and cleared his throat. “Er ... this is the tower of Magus Shimmer, aye?”
Kukri nodded dutifully. “It is. This one is her apprentice, Kukri Doo. Can it help you?”
The zyphon’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Finally found the right place.” Before I could cut in and ask how there could be any confusion when I was the only one in Freeport with a huge obsidian tower, he continued on. “Beggin’ the magus's pardon for intrudin’, but I came to ask her for some help.”
Kukri’s eyes lit up, and she strained to be even more polite than she was already. “You are a client? Come in then, sir.” She glanced toward my office, where I’d been observing while pretending to be going over some paperwork. “Shimmer-mare! You have a client. A ... um...” She glanced back to the zyphon.
He seemed to know what she wanted. “Name of Equal Share, little miss.”
“Equal Share for you.” Kukri paused, frowning to herself. “That is to say a zyphon named Equal Share, not an actual ... um, come on in.” Kukri lead the zyphon to my office, trying to imitate a fancy ladylike prance and failing miserably. If not for a quick little spell from me, she might’ve wound up planting her face on the floor.
Thankfully she didn’t have any other mishaps while escorting Equal Share the twenty feet separating the foyer from my office. The zyphon seemed suitably impressed by the massive collection of books and scrolls decorating the room, as well as a few photos of myself with various Freeport notables and, of course, Celestia herself. Even if we hadn’t parted on the best of terms, it never hurt to remind the world just who I’d learned magic from. Judging by the way Equal Share was staring around the room like a freshly landed fish, I’d gotten his attention.
I smiled invitingly and set aside the massive tome I kept on my desk just so I could pretend to read it whenever a client was about to come in. “Hello. What can I do for you today?”
Equal settled into one of the seats across from my desk, leaving behind a generous helping of sweat and dirt. “Beggin’ the Magus's pardon, but I'm in charge of a small farming commune on one of the out-islands. We've been having some trouble with er...” He ran a talon across the back of his head. “Well, one of our new members says they's undead. But she also said all the metal bits on them and the green fire were like nothin’ she’d ever seen before. She’s the only one in the commune who really knows much about magic—all I can really say is that some of them are skeletons, and others still have skin and flesh.”
I searched my memory, but nothing about undead with green fire and metal sounded familiar. “I don’t suppose anyone had a camera?” Pictures would make identifying the creatures a lot easier than going off a farmer’s description.
“No ma’am,” the farmer admitted.
Right, time to play twenty questions then. “You said some were skeletons while others still had their flesh?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Okay, were the fleshy ones wet or slimy?”
“No ma’am.”
Not draug, then. They were the most common sort of wild undead, considering we were in the middle of a huge archipelago where thousands of ships had sunk due to weather, piracy, or war. If it wasn’t draug, that made it more likely we were dealing with a necromancer. “Were they just wandering around randomly, or did they seem to have some sort of goal in mind?”
“Seemed like they mighta been lookin’ for somethin’,” Equal answered with a shrug. “And they left pretty quick after a couple of our members attacked one of ‘em.”
Huh. Definitely sounded like these weren’t wild ones, then. “Did the fleshy ones seem to be controlling the skeletons? Or vice versa?”
“No ma’am.”
“And I’m going to assume you didn’t spot a living necromancer?”
“Nobody like that, ma’am.”
Well, that was a bother. The green fire and metal bits definitely fit an independent necromancer. Most of the common rules for identifying undead broke down a bit when you were dealing with an independent necromancer. After all, there’s no telling what a crazy genius warlock might come up with when he starts experimenting. Sticking a few metal bits onto a skeleton or zombie wasn’t all that hard when you were the one making them.
“So can you help us?” Equal asked plaintively, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “We ain’t got much in the way of money, but come harvest time we could pay you in trade.”
Oh. No money. Well that was a bit of a problem. After all, I was a magus-for-hire. When it came to getting paid, I much preferred ducats to baskets full of breadfruit and sugarcane.
Unfortunately, as Puzzle had pointed out once or twice in the past, I was a bit too nice to be purely mercenary. Turning this guy away just because his community was too poor didn’t sit right with me. If the undead came back and killed them all because I was picky about whether or not I was getting paid enough ... yeah, that wouldn’t sit right with me at all.
I decided on a compromise. “I don't charge much just to go out and look. I can have a look at these undead for myself, and see what you guys are dealing with and if you need any help.” I couldn’t help but notice Kukri looking at me as with an admiring smile as I continued. “If things get bad and you need more than just a consultation, we'll work something out.”
“Thank you kindly, miss.” Equal smiled gratefully, extending a talon to shake my hoof. “Glad to see Starlight was wrong about you.”
I blinked in shock, not even taking the proffered talon. “What? Starlight? You mean Starlight Glimmer?”
“Yes ma’am,” Share confirmed. “She joined our commune about three months back, on account of runnin’ into some trouble with the powers-that-be in the city. Ain’t like she’s the first one we’ve had who was lookin’ to start over. She said we shouldn't hire you.”
“Oh.” Well, that certainly complicated things. The last time I had a run-in with Starlight, she’d robbed a bank that catered to Freeport’s elite, then tossed a lot of the money into the poorest slum in Freeport. Her ‘rob from the rich and give to the poor’ act probably would’ve been a bit more convincing if she hadn’t kept so much of the money for herself. Or if she hadn’t allowed her wealthy father to get her out of any serious punishment. Usually the punishment for bank robbery was a lot harsher than getting sent to a small farming commune.
It sounded like she was still holding a bit of a grudge against me. Not exactly a surprise, when I was the one who caught and arrested her. Not to mention damaging her horn badly enough that she couldn’t use magic for a month. Though considering she was trying to kill me at the time, I thought that was an incredibly merciful punishment.
Starlight being involved in this definitely changed a few things. She wasn’t as skilled with magic as I was, but she had enough raw power to give me a reasonably challenging fight. I was already planning to do a bit more digging before I took the job, but now I was going to look twice as hard. “So if Starlight didn’t want you to hire me, why did you come anyway?”
Equal shrugged. “We got zombies and skeletons runnin’ through our village. Ain't like we can afford to be picky.”
“I assume you tried asking the Council for aid?”
“We did.” The zyphon grimaced and shook his head. “But we’re a small community in the out-islands. I ain’t exactly hopeful they’ll do much for us.”
He was probably right about that. The out-islands were all far away from any major trade routes, and generally lacking in any valuable resources that made them worth developing. The Council wouldn’t be in a rush to send forces to a worthless hunk of rock populated by a small number of subsistence farmers—even if they weren’t heartless jerks only concerned with maximizing Freeport’s profits, protecting a tiny village far away from civilization wasn’t as important as larger communities on the main islands.
Of course, part of my job description was to take care of things the Council couldn’t or wouldn’t. “I’ll need to do a little research to see what I’m dealing with. Once that’s settled, I’ll send Kukri to ... where are you staying at?”
Equal shrugged. “I’ve been sleeping on our boat.”
He couldn’t even afford a room at a dockside tavern? This was not gonna be one of my more profitable jobs. “Alright, Kukri will find you at the docks, then. Is there anything else I should know about this job?”
“No ma’am.” He got up from his seat. “Thank you kindly for whatever help you can give us.” He put his hat back on, and Kukri showed him out.
Once she was back I sighed and shook my head, leaning back in my chair. “So, Starlight’s back and there’s undead around. That’s a nice pair of surprises.”
Kukri shrugged. “She was bound to pop up again at some point. The Shimmer-mare defeated her once, and will do so again if she tries anything. This one is more worried about the things she seems to have brought with her.”
“Yeah, the necromancy is what has me worried too.” I frowned thoughtfully, tapping my chin. “I don’t recall her using any dark magic last time. Everything she used was pretty basic, so I don’t think she has a very broad spellbook. Plus terrorizing a small farming village doesn’t fit with how obsession with fairness and equality. Though I suppose she might've just gone nuts.” She certainly hadn’t been a picture of mental stability last time.
“It could also just be a coincidence,” Kukri suggested.
I shook my head. “I suppose that’s possible, but you remember what Puzzle always says about that: coincidences do happen, but you shouldn't trust them when they crop up.” I got up from my chair and stretched out. “And speaking of bug boy, I want his take on this before I accept the job and go running off into the wilderness.”
Kukri nodded along. “It's odd he didn't contact you about the Glimmer-mare's return. This one doubts he's in cahoots with her, but if he didn't tell you, that probably means he didn't know. Which probably means she's gone out of her way to hide herself. Same with the zombies, although those might just be too new to have hit his web yet.”
All things considered, I rather doubted Puzzle was plotting against me. And if he was, he’d be plotting with someone a bit better than Starlight Glimmer. “The out-islands aren't exactly the sort of place where he'd have a bunch of agents running around. Usually nothing worth spying on.”
Kukri grinned at me. “So in other words, you know something he doesn’t. A rare situation indeed. How much do you think he'd pay for this little nugget?”
I chuckled and gave her a pat on the back. “I guess we'll find out, won't we?”
Her eyes lit up. “Race you!” She dropped into a running stance, but before she could start galloping she froze and grumbled several words she’d almost certainly picked up from sailors. “Of course, this means lessons have to wait now.” She hissed a couple more colorful words her mother wouldn’t have approved of.
I tsked disapprovingly. “Language, Kukri.”
Her ears dropped. “Sorry, Shimmer-mare.” Her mood bounced back an instant later. “Maybe we should add a silence spell to the syllabus?”
“I’ll make a note.” At this rate the syllabus was going to take at least a decade to get through. I suspect Kukri’s enthusiasm might outstrip her actual abilities. I know I wanted to learn all the cool spells when I was her age, before I realized that nopony could actually master every single spell in existence. For now, I decided to focus her ambitions in more achievable directions. “Check my gear while I go visit Puzzle.”
“Got it!” she chirped out enthusiastically.
From the outside, Puzzle’s business doesn’t look like it’s the headquarters of one of the most powerful and influential beings in Freeport, with connections ranging from the criminal underworld to the Council itself. It looked perfectly respectable, but someone who didn’t know about Puzzle would assume that Puzzle Piece’s Problem Solvers was just another fairly ordinary import/export business office—the sort of place you could find just about anywhere in the nicer districts of Freeport. Knowing Puzzle, he’d probably set it up to look that way on purpose.
I walked through the front door into a nice little waiting area with a single severe earth pony mare sitting behind a desk. She greeted my arrival with something almost resembling politeness, which was progress considering she didn’t like me very much. It took me a while to figure out that she was one of those types who guarded her minimal authority zealously, and not even Celestia could bypass her without dirty looks and passive-aggression. So I decided to go with the path of least resistance. “Merry Penny, I need to see Puzzle. It’s important.”
I was rather surprised when she actually smiled at me. Looks like trying to be diplomatic and respect her authority was the right move after all. “He's downstairs.” She rose from her desk. “I’ll escort you, Magus.”
I nodded and followed behind her, letting her enjoy playing the role of leader. It was a small sacrifice to avoid all the messy complications that came from running roughshod over her.
She led me into Puzzle’s office, then through a cunningly concealed door in the back wall that opened up into a staircase. While Puzzle’s secret basement hadn’t been a secret from me, he’d never let me down here before. Merry walked up to the door at the bottom of the staircase, then slipped inside to let her boss know I was here. About a minute later she came out and nodded to me. “He's right inside, and ready for you.”
I stepped inside just in time to see Puzzle rolling up a map. The rest of his secret room was not as interesting as you’d expect for highly connected fixer. Yeah, there were all sorts of interesting little things—charms, potions, documents, a wall safe, the hidden wall safe, and most likely an even more hidden one I hadn’t found yet. Just nothing that immediately amazed me, but I suppose anything like that wouldn’t be out in plain sight anyway.
Puzzle looked up at my entrance, smiling politely. “Hello, Shimmer-mare. Always a pleasure.” He opened up the obvious safe, then slipped the documents inside and locked it.
I shot a quick look at the safe. “Gotta hide your secrets from me?”
He smirked and nodded. “Only some of them.”
“Hopefully not any bad ones.” While I was undeniably curious, I resisted the urge to try and figure out what Puzzle was up to. Especially since, given the fact that he knew I was about to come in, he could easily have asked me to wait another minute until he finished putting everything up. So he was probably playing some game where he wanted me to know he was still keeping secrets from me. If that was how it was, I certainly wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of playing along. Instead, I got straight to business. “I got a new job offer, and I want your take on it.”
Puzzle settled down in a very large chair that wasn’t quite as formal and impressive as the one in his office, but looked far more comfortable. “What's the job?”
I took the other available chair. “An out-island farming commune is having some trouble with undead and they want my help. So far I’m just down for a consultation, but it’s reasonably likely to turn into a fight.” I frowned and delivered the unexpected complication. “It's the village Starlight got exiled to.”
“Ah,” Puzzle steepled his hooves in front of his face. “This one remembers that one all too well. If the village needs your help, then the Glimmer-mare herself wasn't able to deal with this reported undead incursion?”
I shrugged. “Apparently she’s been handling them so far, but the village wants a proper magus to come out and have a look at it.”
“Understandable.” Puzzle tapped his chin thoughtfully. “However, this one finds it rather surprising that they immediately chose to hire one of Starlight’s enemies.”
“It’s not like I have much competition in the magus-for-hire business,” I countered.
“Yes and no,” Puzzle countered. “True, you are the only mercenary in Freeport who can claim the title of Equestrian Magus. However, you are far from the only magically knowledgeable and skilled individual in the city. There are shamans, runecasters, and a few blood mages available, not to mention a few unicorns who lack your skills but whose aid comes cheaper. Yet of all the available magical professionals, this village chooses you? No, this is more of a coincidence than this one likes.” Puzzle grimaced and shook his head. “It might be best if you avoided this job. It has too much potential for complications.”
“Yeah, I get what you’re saying.” I sighed and ran a hoof through my mane. “But the village is being attacked by zombies and skeletons. That’s not something I can ignore.”
“Which might well be what they intended when setting this trap,” Puzzle pointed out. “A village in peril, waiting desperately for the hero to come galloping to the rescue. Precisely the sort of scenario that would draw out a young mercenary magus whose heart sometimes does more thinking than her head. Need this one remind you of the time you were asked to come to Sweetash Isle with little concrete information given before hoof?”
“I haven't forgotten,” I growled. The hospital stay had made sure of that. If I ever ran into Chrysalis again... “Why do you think I'm here? I know something’s not right about this job, but I don’t want to leave the farmers defenseless.”
“This one could point out once more that there are several others the village could turn to for aid.” The changeling was silent for a long moment, then sighed and shook his head. “But likely none as good as you, especially since this one imagines the Shimmer-mare did not attempt to make them pay beyond their means. Others would use their desperate situation to take them for everything they have.” Puzzle shot me a long, unreadable look before continuing. “Since it seems we must save these poor unfortunates, this one should state that it does have an informant in Starlight's little commune.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“The out-islands are a known haven for all sorts who want to keep their business secret.” Puzzle’s eyes flicked towards a rather large filing cabinet. “Pirates, slavers, smugglers, warlocks, and of course small communes that wish to live in relative isolation.”
“Slavers?” I frowned and shook my head. “I thought the Council hated slavers.”
“They do,” Puzzle confirmed. “If the commune wanted the Council’s help, they should have claimed they were being attacked by slavers, not undead. In truth, that focus on slavers is part of why such threats are not acted upon as quickly. The Council can only devote so many resources to such marginal territory, and slavers have always been their primary focus. Not to mention that after the incident with the Old Mind, they have been searching to ensure there are no hidden changeling hives.”
“Right, right...” I grimaced and ran a hoof through my mane. “So where does this village fit into all this? Are they up to anything shady?”
“Not as such.” Puzzle got up and pulled a couple files out of his cabinet. “From what this one can tell, it seems to be a community with beliefs somewhat similar to those espoused by Starlight when we last met her, though a bit more ... seasoned. There is no formal hierarchy, and resources are shared equally among all members of the community. Likely her father sent her there in hopes of tempering her beliefs.”
“Or just sticking her somewhere out of sight, but nice enough that she wouldn’t mind being locked up.” A gilded cage is still a cage, even if Starlight’s idea of gilding was a small communal village in the middle of nowhere. I conjured up a quick ice mirror to read a bit of the report over Puzzle’s shoulder. “So you had a spy on Starlight?”
“It seemed prudent.” Puzzle glanced up at the mirror, then sighed and directed a rather pointed look my way until I dismissed it. “She strikes this one as the sort who might bear a grudge against those who foiled her schemes. Those sorts always bear watching. This one will remind you that the Glimmer-mare is inclined to think in straight lines. She might be thinking she's being clever by having one of her minions ask you to come to her island.”
I couldn’t exactly refute that point. “What does your source say about undead showing up?”
“Nothing, but this one has not heard from its source for a week, and does not expect to do so for another week yet. Normally the commune only sends a ship to Freeport twice a month to trade for whatever they can’t produce themselves. Which might mean this one will receive a message regarding the undead shortly, though there is no guarantee of that. The trip to beg for aid was not part of the regular schedule, so this one’s source might not have been able to send a message. Even this one’s network has its limits.”
“Right.” Which meant I would probably have to make a decision blind. Super. “In that case, I definitely want some backup for this job.”
“This one would not suggest acting alone, no.” He put up the files and pulled out a large, heavy tome. “Did the villager you spoke with say what type of undead were attacking?”
“The description didn’t match anything I’d expect to see running wild in Freeport. He also mentioned green fire and metal bits in the skeletons and zombies.” I shrugged. “Nothing I’ve ever heard of before, so my best guess is that there’s a necromancer doing some experimenting, and either his projects got loose or he decided to test them on the nearest easy target.”
One of Puzzle’s eyebrows quirked up. “That's new for this one, too.” He flipped through his book for a bit, then shook his head. “As this one thought, no known undead variant. As the Shimmer-mare said, most like the result of a warlock experimenting. The out-islands have several of those.”
“The out-islands do sound like the exactly the sort of place a warlock would set up shop,” I agreed. “As for the undead, I’ll probably be able to figure something out once I actually get a look at them. Hard to get any concrete answers when all I have is a vague description from a farmer who can’t tell a draug from a revenant.”
Puzzle frowned and closed his book. “Quite so. Well then, who else is going to be coming along on this expedition?”
“Kukri wants to come, but that’s obviously not happening.” She was a good kid, but still just a kid. No way I could justify dragging her into what would almost certainly be a dangerous combat situation. “So ... I guess we could ask Strumming, then hire some mercs?”
“That would seem wise.” Puzzle shot me a flat look. “This one can't help but note that according to its agent this commune isn't exactly going to have much money to pay us. Mercenaries cost money. Supplies cost money. And our time is valuable as well. What opportunities will we miss because we are off gallivanting about in the out-islands?”
I grimaced, because much as I didn’t want to admit it, he was right. “What else can I do? Leave them on their own?”
Puzzle sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Shimmer-mare, mercenaries need to make a profit in order to continue being mercenaries. Your standard of living will decline considerably if you make a habit of taking jobs for clients who cannot pay you. Consider that very carefully before deciding you want to play hero.”
My eyes narrowed and I clenched my teeth. “Are you suggesting I just leave them all to die?”
“This one is merely pointing out that excessive altruism is a good way to get yourself killed.” Puzzle shook his head. “This one cannot reccomend that you undertake a job which will likely end up costing you an order of magnitude more than you will earn from it.”
“I’m sure you’ve done jobs where you didn’t make more bits than you spent,” I countered.
“That is true,” Puzzle conceded. “However, in such cases this one still derived something of value for its time and resources: the favor of the Council, eliminating or weakening a rival, gaining a powerful new ally. This one can count its profits in more than bits. The Shimmer-mare has no such concerns—this one suspects you simply wish to play the hero.”
“Think of it as a public relations exercise,” I shot back with a smirk. “Everyone loves a hero. Not to mention that if there is some crazy necromancer attacking people with his creations, he’s probably not going to stop after wiping a single small farming commune. Like I said, he might be testing them out on the villagers—which would indicate that he plans on doing something a lot bigger at some point in the future. And on top of that, our necromancer probably has a lair, presumably full of valuable magical equipment.”
“This one suspects that the Shimmer-mare would object to selling much of what we could loot from a necromancer’s hideout.” Puzzle frowned. “For that matter, there would likely be some things that even this one would not want put on the open market. However, the Shimmer-mare’s point is not wholly lacking in merit—one’s reputation is a valuable resource indeed. And in any case, it is clear the Shimmer-mare intends to do as she will regardless of this one’s advice. Did you think this one would let you go into danger without it?”
I grinned and nudged him. “I was hoping you’d be there to watch my back.”
“But of course.” Puzzle grinned disarmingly. “This one likes you too much to let anything happen to you. Not to mention the Heartstrings-mare would be upset.”
I smirked and hoofed him in the shoulder. “Feeling's mutual, bug boy. So does that mean Strumming’s getting involved too?”
Puzzle nodded. “The Heartstrings-mare became a bit upset the last time this one went on a job with you, only for you to return home injured. This one believes that it's probably best if she comes along so that she can't get quite as cranky with this one.”
“And we can’t have your girlfriend getting cranky with you,” I poked him in the side. “Imagine if you get exiled to the couch.”
“A fate this one would much rather avoid,” Puzzle deadpanned. “And the Equestrians will likely be glad to contribute some resources to a necromancer-hunt, given their policy of regarding warlocks as hostis equinus generis. Along with her, we should get some mercs to back us up. Reliable ones that can deal with the undead and any magic users. From there, we hire a ship to go to the Glimmer-mare's island, where this one will stealthily contact its agent to get a first hoof account of what's going on. From that point we'll figure out the best course of action.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “This one will also have Merry check its records to see if there are any warlocks operating on nearby out-islands. Having a few obvious suspects would certainly help our investigation. It does vaguely recall hearing of a bokor operating on a small island somewhere near the commune.”
“Bokor ... that’s like the zebra shaman version of a warlock, right?” I was still filling out my knowledge of non-unicorn magical traditions
“Essentially,” Puzzle agreed. “The term carries a number of different connotations, but bokors are known to practice what most Equestrians would consider black magic—including the creation of zombies.”
“Sounds like someone worth checking out, then,” I concluded. “If he’s our bad guy, problem solved. If he isn’t, then he’s still a necromancer who needs to be taken out. So, unless there’s anything else, I think we're good.”
It didn’t take too long to finalize our arrangements and take to the seas. Kukri wasn’t happy about being left behind, but there was no way I’d be taking her into a fight with a bunch of zombies—she was way too young to be doing fieldwork. Between everything that happened when I first arrived in Freeport and the run-in with the primal changeling, Kukri’d already gone through way too much for a kid her age.
We wound up taking two separate ships out to the commune, mostly because Puzzle wanted to be able to check in with a few of his contacts on the way out. I couldn’t exactly complain about that when half the reason I wanted him around was his information network, but it did mean I was stuck on the other ship—which in turn meant I was stuck with Strumming and a couple of the embassy guards she’d apparently talked into coming along for our undead-and-warlock hunt. Considering this was the first time I’d seen some of those ponies since I broke out of the embassy, things were just a bit awkward.
Strumming did her best to break the ice in her usual manner. “I made cheese dip.” She pulled out one of the many bags of chips she always seemed to have access to and immediately got to work on decimating the dip. “Don’t worry, I almost certainly didn’t poison it.”
I rolled my eyes, but tried some of it anyway. Credit where it’s due, Strumming is good at junk food. “Thanks.”
Strumming nodded and swallowed before she spoke again. “Been thinking. Bug boy said there’s some zebrican necromancer about half a day away from where these farmers are set up, right? And since he’s gotta go check with all his spies, we’d be waiting a while before he could join up with us at the commune.”
“Right.” I frowned warily at her. I knew she was building up to something, and I had a pretty good idea what it was.
“Well, here’s the thing: I don’t love the idea of heading to the commune that could be a big nasty trap without maximum intel, which means waiting for Puzzle to get back. I also don’t like the idea of just sitting around and doing nothing while we wait for Puzzle, so how about we go check out this necromancer?”
I thought it over. I had been planning to start the investigation with him once we checked in at the village anyway. I would’ve preferred to do that with Puzzle backing me up, but I couldn’t spend my whole life sitting around waiting for Puzzle’s approval before I did anything. Nothing wrong with taking the initiative every once in awhile. “Yeah, why not?”
As it turned out, the zebra necromancer—I think the term Puzzle had used was a bokor—had his own little walled-off compound on an otherwise deserted island. I suppose that was one advantage to the out-islands: plenty of free real estate as long as you didn’t mind being far from civilization. The walls certainly looked like they belonged to an evil necromancer’s secret base of operations—while the actual walls were stone, the main decorative theme was skulls and bones, and I could feel the magical defenses thrumming with power. “Looks like we found it.”
Strumming’s eyes pointedly lingered at all the bones. “Gee, you’d never think this place belonged to some crazy necromancer shaman. It just looks so homey.”
“He’s rolled out the welcome mat and everything.” I concentrated and scanned the wall’s magical defenses. Pretty standard, from what I’d seen of zebra work. Several strong stone spirits bound to the walls, and a lot of weaker but more numerous air spirits covering the skies. However, there was one weak point to it: the gate. There was only a single wood spirit on it, and aside from the gate itself there wasn’t too much wood around. I hadn’t quite picked up all the rules about how shaman magic worked, but I did know that elemental spirits were generally bound to their element. The wood spirit couldn’t move through air, earth, fire, water, or metal. Maybe some other things too. I was still picking up all the rules.
So, all I had to do to neutralize the spirit was destroy the entire gate before the spirit could get off a warning. Admittedly not at easy task for most spellcasters, but most spellcasters weren’t Alpha-level unicorns with a mastery of pyromancy. I took several moments to gather my energy, then tossed out a solid sheet of fire. For once, everything went according to plan, and the entire gate was encased before the spirit could warn anyone we were there.
“Subtle,” Strumming deadpanned. “You see, this is why pyromancers never get invited to any of the nice parties. You keep on burning things.”
“I had to burn the whole gate at once to keep the spirits from setting off any alarms,” I explained patiently. “I could’ve tried it with ice, but have you noticed how hot it is? Ice doesn’t exactly last a long time in a tropical climate.”
“Yeah, great job stopping the spirit from setting off any alarms.” Strumming sighed and rolled her eyes. “But there is the slight problem of the fact that you lit up the entire gate like a torch. I think someone just might noticed that.”
“Well we had to get past the defenses somehow.” The argument probably would’ve kept on going for a while, if not the gate suddenly and noisily collapsing into a pile of burning rubble. I couldn’t resist using that to score one last point. “See? It’s not huge and standing out anymore. Happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” Strumming deadpanned. “What do you plan to do about them?”
I followed her pointing hoof to the cluster of creatures on the other side of the gate. Creatures with wet, slimy skin and vacant blue eyes. “Great, looks like there were draug around after all.” The undead started shambling towards us, threateningly brandishing a collection of pitchforks, hoes, and scythes.
So the necromancer had guard zombies. What a shock.
“Think you could fry those too, bacon-mane?” Strumming shot out. “You know, what with your direct approach to problems?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah...” Throwing a fireball out at the zombies was simple enough, but there was a bit of a snag—draug are wet. Not so wet I couldn’t burn them, but the fireball didn’t cause nearly as much damage as it should’ve, and it left behind a huge cloud of steam.
I was nothing if not adaptable, though. I snatched all the moisture out of that steam cloud and formed it into a wave of ice darts I hurled at the oncoming draug, then followed that up by freezing a couple of them solid—all the water on those zombies might protect against fire, but it just gave me more to work when I was using ice instead.
As a couple frozen draug toppled over and shattered, I smirked at Strumming. “How’s that for direct? Besides, didn’t we come here to send a message to this necromancer guy? Messages work a lot better when they’re big and dramatic.”
“So far the only message I think anyone’s getting is that wherever you go, insurance rates go up.” Strumming sighed and shook her head. “I bet pretty soon companies are gonna add a special coverage category just for you.” She tossed a look at the shattered zombies. “Then again, I probably shouldn’t be complaining too much. Sure, you cause mass devastation, but so far you haven’t pointed it my way or caused any collateral damage to someone or something I care about.”
“Even that time I punched you in the face?”
Strumming shrugged. “I can’t entirely blame you for that, considering the circumstances. I’m just glad you didn’t set me on fire.” She pointed to one of the shambling zombies slowly staggering away as the flames consumed it. “Just saying, that would be a lot harder to heal than the bruise you left on my jaw. Plus it’d ruin my good looks.”
“Can’t ruin something that doesn’t exist,” I quipped. “So are you gonna help, or sit in the back being a smartflank?”
Strumming smirked and stepped up to my side. “I didn’t see any reason to get in the way when you were doing a perfectly good job blasting them all to bits. Besides, I figured the great and mighty Magus Sunset Shimmer wouldn’t need any help from a few lowly spies and soldiers to handle a couple weak little zombies.”
I rolled my eyes and blasted a couple more draug that were getting a little too close. “I haven’t come up with a spell to put eyes in the back of my head, and even I have trouble casting more than two spells at the same time. Someone needs to watch my back.”
Strumming’s eyes lingered on me for several seconds, then she slowly nodded. “What do you know? Looks like you’re actually learning from your mistakes.”
“I was the best student Celestia ever had,” I shot back. “Now make yourself useful, and keep me alive while I clear these things out!”
As Strumming and the guards formed a circle around me, I closed my eyes and spent several seconds concentrating on my next spell. It was a bit outside my usual field, but it was only useful against undead and I’d never faced off against a horde of zombies before. Instead of the usual fire, ice, light, or darkness I tapped into the raw power of the sun itself. Technically the sun belonged to Celestia alone, but there were one or two spells that borrowed just a tiny bit of that power with her permission.
Thankfully Celestia didn’t do anything to shut down my spell. The spell’s radiance hammered down on the zombies, smiting the undead with the divine might of the sun itself.
Or at least, that’s what the spell was supposed to do.
Strumming poked me in the side. “Did you just spend half a minute charging up a spell to make the sun a bit brighter?” She paused for a moment to sink a throwing dart into the head of one of the oncoming draug. “Because if that’s all you were doing, it seems like a huge waste. I was expecting you to set half the island on fire or something.”
“Why didn't that work?” I growled under my breath.
“I could probably answer that question if I had any idea what you were trying to do,” Strumming called out while casually taking out a draug’s knees with two more darts. “Though I think I’d probably also need a couple advanced degrees in high-level magic.”
I scowled and shook my head. “Must be because they're made differently.” I didn’t know too much about all the different ways of creating undead—I’d kind of avoided the topic after that one incident in the graveyard. It was entirely possible that the zebra method of creating undead meant they weren’t quite as vulnerable to the sun.
Thankfully, my usual bag of tricks seemed to work just fine. One nice thing about zombies, whether they were zebra-made draug or the type made by unicorns, is that they aren’t exactly known for their brainpower. The draug mindlessly shambled forward, and I unleashed fire, ice, and cutting beams of light against them. I probably could’ve handled them all on my own, but I let the guards and Strumming mop up the occasional stragglers so I could focus on the big groups. Plus that way I conserved my strength and let them feel like they were contributing.
We were just about done carving our way through all the draug when a zebra stepped out of one of the larger buildings within the compound, his jaw hanging open in shock as he viewed the scene. Judging by the black robes with dozens of fetishes hanging off of them, I was willing to bet that was the bokor we’d come here to deal with. After staring at us for several seconds he shook his head and shouted, “Knock it off, you damn berserkers! What are you doing to all my workers?!”
Workers? I took another look at one of the draug as I skewered it on a spear of ice. Come to think of it, scythes and pitchforks were more along the lines of farming equipment than weapons of war. Then I noticed the large field of plants—jute, I think—and the clusters of carefully cultivated palm and rubber trees.
Oh. So it wasn’t an army of attack zombies so much as a bunch of free farm labor. Oops. I tried to think of a way to apologize for blasting our way into his compound and destroying most of his workers, not to mention the rapidly spreading fire I’d started in his crop field. Somehow ‘sorry’ just didn’t quite cover that.
The bokor snarled furiously and dug into his cloak, pulling out a pouch and dumping out its contents. After several seconds the earth itself shifted, forming four large rocky pillars that slowly grew and connected until they were in a vaguely equine shape.
Great, now that I’d killed his zombies he was calling up spirits. Guess that meant diplomacy was a bust.
I might not be an expert on zebrican magic, but I knew that the first rule of handling elemental spirits was to separate them from their element. As the earth spirit started lumbering forward I created an ice spike beneath it, then rammed it straight up into its rocky body. At first there was almost no reaction to the damage, but eventually I made the spike thick and tall enough to break the spirit’s contact with the ground. The instant that happened, the rock monster fell apart, returning to the soil.
I didn’t have much time to feel good about my victory, because I could already feel more of the spirits coming in. Presumably, all the ones he’d put in charge of watching the gates I’d smashed through. Well, except for that wood spirit—pretty sure I’d already gotten that one. Either way, I wasn’t eager to take on that many at once. “I don’t suppose we could talk this out?”
“You didn't even tell me what you want!” the bokor snarled through a heavy accent. “You have some nerve attacking my home, you upstart c—”
Before he could finish that particular rhyme I threw a fireball his way, sending him scrambling. One thing I knew for sure about both necromancers and spirit binders, the best way to deal with them was to ignore their minions and go after them directly. After all, if this bokor was any good in a straight one-on-one fight, he wouldn’t have a skillset that was all about getting other creatures to do all the fighting for him.
One of the air spirits caught Strumming in midair, tossing the pegasus through the sky. I tried to help her out, but the fighting was fast and close, and air spirits are as fast and nimble as earth spirits are slow and ponderous, not to mention hard to spot. Hitting one with a spell at anything less than point blank range would require more luck than skill, and considering the circumstances I was likely to end up accidently hitting Strumming instead.
Thankfully, she was capable of taking care of herself. The next time the air spirit came after her she faked a dodge to the left, then, spun in a quick dive-roll down and to the right, hurling a throwing dart as she fell. The cold iron weapon struck the spirit dead on, and the anti-magical material did enough damage to make the air spirit let out a shriek that sounded like a small tornado as it plummeted to the ground. Once it hit, one of the guards followed up with a finishing blow, which dispersed just like the earth spirit had once I cut its connection with terra firma.
As more spirits closed in, I kept my attention on the bokor. He was scrambling back to one of the buildings that could provide him some cover while his spirits fought it out, so I set the building on fire before he could get to it, then followed up with a wave of razor sharp ice shards.
The bokor dropped and rolled, managing the avoid the worst of my attack. “What are you doing here?! I've never given others cause to fear!”
“You're a necromancer,” I countered.
“Oh, save your breath!” he snapped. “I didn't do anything to cause someone's death! My servants were nothing but lowly draug and barren bones, fished from bogs and watery homes. I merely acquired bodies already present, and only used them as a labor supplement.”
“Tell that to the village getting attacked by undead!” I snapped, throwing out a bright flash of light to try and blind him.
“That was not me!” the bokor protested. “I had no reason to do that if they left me be! I have even traded them some of my jute in exchange for baskets of fresh fruit.”
I’m not an expert, but pretty much every instinct I had was telling me that this guy was being honest with me. The undead didn’t look anything like the description we’d gotten from Equal Share, and all appearances were that he’d been using them for nothing more nefarious than free manual labor. Sure, it was still necromancy, but it wasn’t like he was a moustache-twirling villain plotting mass chaos and destruction.
I was trying to come up with some way to de-escalate the conflict when when one of the guards let out a startled yelp. “What the fea—” I whirled around just in time to see him get dragged down into the earth, and I could hear his muffled shouts echoing up from under the ground.
Damn, another earth spirit must’ve grabbed him. I took my attention off the bokor for a moment to try and figure out where the guard was so I could rescue him. However, earth spirits were about as good at moving through the earth as air spirits were in their domain, and unlike the air I couldn’t rely on my eyes to find anything. Even if I could find the guard, there was his captor to consider. While I was more than competent when it came to earth magic, I didn’t like my chances of taking on an earth spirit on its home turf.
“Stop this!” the bokor snarled at me. “I haven't killed him and I don't want to—but that depends on what you do.” He glared hatefully at me and pulled several more fetishes off his robes. “I did not want to start this fight, but I do believe my cause is right. You will leave my home and lands, or your soldier will remain buried in the sands.”
“I don’t like blackmailers,” Strumming cut in, glaring at the zebra. “Tell you what, though. You surrender to us, and we’ll work this out peacefully. When it comes to your trial and sentencing, I’ll make sure your behavior here is noted. If you really haven’t killed anyone, they’ll go a lot easier on you.”
“My trial and sentencing?” he repeated incredulously. “Surely it is you who should face a reckoning. You offer to end this peacefully.” He pointedly looked at all the out-of-control fires slowly consuming his compound. “Like how you came to greet me?”
“You are a necromancer with a secret base of undead monsters,” Strumming countered. “In an area where innocent communities are being attacked by undead. Not to mention that your undead acted aggressively towards us.”
“You set them on fire!” the warlock’s voice came out as a strained shout. “How did you expect them to react to something so dire? Anyone who actually came in peace would knock at the gate, at the least.” He scowled and shook his head. “And speaking of the gate, I suggest you leave without further wait. Your companion remains trapped under the earth, where of fresh air there is a dearth.”
“I’ll make you a counter-offer.” I lit my horn threateningly. “How about you give me my soldier back before I make you?”
The bokor snarled and slashed a hoof through the air. “If I meant you harm, you would already be dead—what do I need to do to get this through your head?!”Another muffled cry from underground made his case all the clearer. “Do you think my spirits are limited to grabbing one? I could hide you all away from the sun.” He took a threatening step forward, and two more earth spirits emerged to flank him. “My answer is the same—I didn't attack your town, and this all started with your flame.”
“Right now I don’t care who started it.” My eyes narrowed and my teeth clenched. “Give me back my soldier now or I'll show you just how much flame I can produce.”
“And then where will you be?” he countered. “Dead soldier, and no information from me.”
“That’s true,” I admitted. “But you'll be burnt to a crisp. I’d say you’re still getting the worse end of that deal.” I decided to push my bluff a step further—it was too late to back off without looking weak and indecisive. I conjured up several fireballs and kept hovering around me, advancing menacingly. “Ten. Nine...”
I got to five before an equine muzzle poked out of the ground and took a deep gasp of breath. Enough of the soldier emerged from the earth to let him breathe and for us to identify him, but his legs and wings remained encased in solid stone. “I will allow him air in good grace. But until you're gone, he stays in place. Once you’re safely back on your ship I’ll have a water spirit take him on a little trip.”
I wasn’t wild about giving in to what was essentially blackmail, but I didn’t want him killing one of our embassy guards either. That left me with very limited options. “Prove you didn't attack the village and we’ll walk.”
“You would demand that I prove a negative?” he remarked incredulously. “I think perhaps I should suggest an alternative. What would it take to satisfy you that the attack on the village is something I didn’t do?”
Strumming thought it over for a second. “Aside from letting our guy go, how about you let us study your undead?”
I couldn’t resist muttering, “What's left of them,” under my breath.
The bokor grunted and nodded, so I stepped over the nearest reasonably intact draug. I’d already confirmed as much, but I double and triple checked, plus did a scan for any more intact undead in the area and came up empty. It was possible the zebra had some hidden away in a magically sealed room my spells couldn’t find, but that would be an awful lot of trouble to go to. Plus I rather doubted he’d let us spend a couple weeks thoroughly searching the entire island for any hidden hiding spots.
I announced my final verdict. “They look like pretty standard draug. Certainly nothing like the green fire and metal bits Equal Share mentioned.”
The bokor’s eyes widened slightly. “Green fire is not something I can do. And a metal undead ... that is new. Perhaps a spirit of metal bound to the fleshly frame? But that still would not explain the presence of green flame...”
Strumming stepped up to my side, dropping her voice to a careful whisper. “What do you think, Sunset? Is it him?”
I sighed and shook my head. “Doesn't look like he's our guy. Not unless he had an incredibly well-prepared cover-up and had all the incriminating evidence already hidden away when we launched our surprise attack.”
Her eyes narrowed and she nodded sharply. “Sounds to me like there’s not much left for us to do here. You got anything else?”
“No.” The investigation on this island had done nothing but rule out a suspect and result in a lot of pointless property damage. “Let’s just get our guy and get out before this gets worse.”
Strumming shifted her attention back to the bokor. “We’re done here. Give us back the hostage, and you’ll never see us again.”
The bokor nodded grimly. “Head through of what's left of my gate; once you're out, you won't have long to wait.” He hesitated, staring at us piercingly. “But one quick question before you do: who exactly are you?”
I decided to keep it simple. “Ponies who don’t like necromancers.”
The zebra rolled his eyes. “Do you know how little that narrows it down? Equestria’s hate for warlocks has no small renown. Hostis Equinus Generis they call us, and would happily leave us hanging from the nearest truss.” He looked us over, slowly rubbing his chin. “You aren't from that commune, so why are you serving as their goon? That armor isn't Striker or Doo...” His eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh! The Equestrian magus—that's you!”
I didn’t see any point in denying the obvious. “Yeah, I am.”
“Interesting.” The earth itself spat out the guard he’d been holding captive. “Now get out. I have a lot of work to do to replace this destructive bout.”
“Fine.” I set my hooves and delivered my best death glare. “Just make sure you don't cause trouble, or I'll be back.”
The bokor didn’t even dignify me with an answer, turning his back on me and looking over the burning wreck I’d made of his compound. I didn’t know enough zebrican to make out what he was grumbling under his breath, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t anything friendly about me.
Strumming gave me a quick pat on the shoulder. “Come on, time to regroup and rethink.”
I grunted and nodded. “Looks like this was a bust.”
Strumming pulled out one of her ever-present candy bars and bit into it. “Next time let’s try knocking first,” she suggested.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I grumbled.
Strumming grinned. “Good move.” She took another bite of her candy bar, and then without any change of expression flicked a wing out to the side. A second later I heard the deep, meaty thunk of one of her throwing darts hitting flesh.
I whirled to the side, and found the bokor’s body slumped in the dirt, one of Strumming’s darts buried in his skull. “Why did you do that?”
Strumming shrugged and finished off her candy bar. “He was a threat.”
I growled and shook my head. "He'd already agreed to let us go!"
Strumming quirked an eyebrow. “Did he? Or was he just playing for time until he was ready to deal with us later?”
“So what, you killed him just in case?” I demanded, stomping towards her.
“Tell me.” Her eyes locked onto mine, and the normal humorous gleam in her them and the flippant smile on her lips were suddenly gone. “What would you have done if someone had attacked your tower, destroyed your things, and threatened your life?”
I opened my mouth. I closed it again without saying anything. I knew exactly what I would do in that situation, and Strumming did too. I’d chase down whoever attacked my tower and make them pay for it. If they’d put Kukri in danger I wouldn’t be pulling any punches either. And that was coming from someone who wasn’t a warlock. Suddenly, his decision to let us go seemed less altruistic and more like he just wanted to buy time to build up a new army of draug before coming after us for revenge.
I sighed and shook my head. “Sometimes I hate Freeport.”
“There's a free ship back to Equestria anytime you want it,” Strumming offered.
I’d be lying if I said I’d never found the idea of going back to Equestria tempting, but... “I’ve got a job to do here. There’s a village full of innocent people getting attacked by zombies, and if I don’t help them...”
“There’s always tomorrow,” she prompted.
“No, tomorrow there’ll be someone else.” I nodded, more to myself than her. “I came out here to make a difference. Going back to Equestria would mean giving up.”
Strumming grinned and used a wing to clap me on the back. “Then let’s go make a difference.”
We made the rest of the trip to the commune in relative silence. I didn’t particularly want to talk to Strumming, and she seemed fine snacking and chatting with her soldiers.
The whole thing with that bokor was just ... ugh. I knew she was right that he probably would’ve come after me for revenge at some point. Probably once he’d replenished his undead horde and summoned up a lot more spirits. Making sure he couldn’t do that was logical, but the way Strumming had killed him just didn’t sit right with me.
It was a relief when the ship finally pulled into the commune’s simple wooden dock. The commune itself looked about as drab and unimpressive as I’d expected. Lots of simple cabins made out of local logs, attached to crop fields. It didn’t look all that defensible: there wasn’t anything like a wall around the village and they’d stuck the town in a wide open area so they’d be living right next to their farmland. Big surprise, the farmers had been more concerned with convenience in everyday life than they had been with securing themselves against a potential invasion.
Apparently the detour had take longer than we’d expected, since Puzzle was standing on the dock waiting for us. After being stuck on a ship with Strumming for the last several days, the chance to talk to anyone other than her was welcome.
While the ship was still a ways out from the dock Strumming grinned and spread her wings, flying over the water and landing next to him. Her voice carried over the water well enough for me to make out the words. “Hey, bug boy.”
“Strumming.” Puzzle smiled politely. “This one trusts you are all well?
Huh. Strumming. Not Heartstrings-mare. That definitely meant ... something.
Strumming grinned and nodded. “Yeah, I'm just dandy.” She pecked him on the cheek. “What’s new with you?”
I was getting a bit tired of being left out the conversation, so I decided to stop waiting for the ship and just teleported onto the dock. Puzzle didn’t seem the least bit surprised by my arrival. “Shimmer-mare.” He looked the two of us over, frowning faintly. “This one suspects that something happened it was not privy to. It does not like being denied information.”
“I was getting to it,” Strumming declared with a careless shrug. “Anyway, we got into a fight with a necromancer.”
Puzzle quirked an eyebrow. “And which necromancer would that be?”
“The zebra one you told me about back at your office,” I supplied. “Since you were busy checking in with your contacts, Strumming and I decided to take a detour to check him out.”
Puzzle frowned at both of us. “This one was meeting with its contacts so that we would know what we were dealing with. For example, this one could have informed you both that according to the information it has gathered, it seems highly unlikely the bokor had any involvement with the current undead incursions. However, it seems you two decided to act before this one could inform you of such, resulting in a great deal of wasted effort.”
Strumming brushed off his displeasure with a wave of her wing. “He was a necromancer. Now he's dead, and the world's a better place.”
Puzzle scowled at her. “You know what you were doing. You must have known this one would not approve of your decision to pursue the bokor, and so you acted during a time and place when this one couldn't object.”
Strumming’s eyes widened, and she drew herself up. “Excuse me? Since when do I need your permission to deal with the bad guys? Or do anything else, for that matter?”
“This one was under the impression we were part of a team.” Puzzle answered frostily. “How would the Heartstrings-mare feel if this one went off and did something it knew she would not approve of, and did so without her knowledge?”
Oh, she was back to being ‘the Heartstrings-mare’ now. Such a shame...
“What, are you saying you don’t want me dealing with warlocks?” Strumming demanded. “Last I checked, they’re still hostis equinus generis, so it can’t be a legal issue. And if you were worried about our safety, Sunset and I killed him off with no serious problems.”
I had to cut in at that point. “You killed him, not me.”
“Ah.” Puzzle pointedly looked between the two us. “So, that is how it is then...”
“How what is?” Strumming demanded.
Puzzle fixed his eyes on her. “You went in with the intention of killing the necromancer, whether he had anything to do with this or not. This one is not surprised that the Heartstrings-mare would do such a thing, considering what happened with—”
Strumming cut him off with a hoof over his mouth, her teeth clenched furiously. “You do not want to finish that sentence,” she growled out. “Either you have no idea what you’re talking about, and you’re about to make yourself look like a total idiot, or you pried into something that’s none of your business. Either way, shut the hay up right now.”
Huh. Well someone sure touched a nerve. I don’t think I’d ever seen Strumming so worked up. Her reaction to me bringing up the time I’d punched her in the face was a nonchalant shrug, but a couple words from Puzzle had her absolutely livid. It made me a bit curious about just what it was Puzzle knew about, though if it got Strumming that worked up maybe it was better if I didn’t know after all.
Puzzle weathered the storm impassively, his face an unreadable mask. “This one only wishes to point out that it is unwise to allow one’s personal feelings to compromise one’s judgement. It can lead to errors, like needless killing.”
“Nothing needless about it,” Strumming shot back, her fury seemingly replaced with her usual flippancy as she tore into a fresh bag of chips. “He was a necromancer.”
Considering I’d once briefly experimented with necromancy before instantly regretting it, I wasn’t entirely sure I liked her tone. “You think you can just kill anyone who's a necromancer, regardless of whether they’re guilty or not?” Once I’d started getting pissed, I just kept on going. “And you were planning to kill him from the start, weren’t you? You lied to me!”
Strumming cut me off with an upraised hoof before I could get any further. “I know the difference between a kid who made a couple mistakes and the real bad guys. But yeah, don’t forget necromancy is against the laws of magic. The same laws of magic you’re supposed to uphold, Magus Shimmer. I would’ve been fine with taking the guy alive if that was an option, but the risks didn’t justify it.”
“Horseapples,” I snarled. “You used me to bust through his magical defenses so you could kill him off. If you think I’m gonna let you get away with that...”
Puzzle quickly placed himself between the two of us before things could get any worse. “Maybe we should concentrate on the matter that actually brought us here?”
“Sure.” Strumming finished off what was left of her chips. “But for the record, whatever warlock's summoning up the creepies attacking this town isn't getting a forgiving hug after he apologizes and promises to never do it again.”
“This one didn't think that was part of the agenda,” Puzzle answered dryly.
“But we’re not killing anyone unless we absolutely have to.” I had a sinking feeling we wouldn’t have any choice in the matter if this guy was as bad as it seemed, but I certainly didn’t want Strumming thinking I’d just go along with her plans to kill anyone who used dark magic.
“We’ll figure that part out when we get to it.” Strumming opened up her seemingly bottomless saddlebag to grab a candy bar. “Anyone else feeling snacky?” When Puzzle and I shook our heads, she grinned and winked at the changeling. “Oh, and seeing as we had a fight I’m already looking forward to the makeup sex tonight.”
I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Seriously? I’m right here!”
“Which is why we’re waiting until tonight,” Strumming shot back with a smirk. “No peeking.”
While I struggled with the urge to start vomiting uncontrollably, Puzzle chuckled and nuzzled Strumming. “At least this one has that to look forward to. But returning to the matter at hoof, this one has put its time to good use. It has learned a few useful things about the commune, and it has confirmed the presence of undead.” He nodded to a small cart waiting on the shore. “And this one got a specimen for you to look at.”
“You got one of the zombies?” I asked, and Puzzle confirmed it with a nod. “Great, I should be able to work out something about what we’re dealing with. Is there somewhere I can study it without everyone making a fuss?”
Puzzle nodded and pointed. “There's an empty stretch of beach over there. We might be able to requisition a building, but this one would prefer not to go to the trouble when a beach will serve just as well.”
“Yeah, that should work.” A sterile environment would be better if I wanted to do a really in-depth analysis, but that would require a lot of tools and books that I’d left back at my tower, and would probably take weeks of research. For a quick and dirty field inspection, an empty beach was as good as anywhere.
Strumming looked back and forth between the two of us, then smirked at Puzzle. “Should I be worried you're giving presents to other mares, or grateful that it's just an icky corpse?”
Puzzle answered her with a dry smile. “This one hopes you will not be too disappointed when it decides to gift you with random corpses for our anniversary.”
“I’ve gotten worse presents,” Strumming deadpanned. “But seriously, stick with flowers and chocolate. Jewelry is good, too. Can’t go wrong with the classics.”
Puzzle chuckled and nodded. “This one will bear that in mind, Strumming.”
Ugh, she was back to ‘Strumming’ with him. I rolled my eyes and turned my back on the two of them. “I'm gonna go do something useful.” I grabbed the cart and headed for that deserted stretch of beach, leaving the lovebirds behind to do ... whatever it was they were doing. I certainly didn’t care nor wanted to know.
Puzzle caught up with me when I was about halfway down the beach. “Shimmer-mare.”
I glanced back over my shoulder at him. “Hey, Puzzle. Just gonna check this thing out.”
“This one might be able to help with that.” He nodded towards the ship, which was finally docking. “Strumming will be busy having her guards see to the village’s defenses, and this one knows quite a bit about the necromantic arts.” I was briefly curious about just how Puzzle had learned anything about forbidden dark magic, but considering his profession I probably shouldn’t have been surprised. “At least from what this one is told, the Glimmer-mare managed to disable this specific zombie.”
Oh. Right. In all the excitement of arriving I’d almost forgotten that she was here. Running into Starlight Glimmer again was sure to be fun. “So I'm guessing what's in the bag is not so much a zombie as it is several hundred parts of something that was once a zombie?” Starlight certainly hadn’t been a subtle spellcaster when I’d taken her on.
“Only three parts of a zombie,” Puzzle clarified. “This one suspects the Glimmer-mare actually sold this one three different zombies, and claimed that she was giving this one a complete specimen.”
I scoffed. “You actually gave her money? I thought you were smart.”
Puzzle shrugged nonchalantly. “This one only parted with a few ducats. It was the simplest way for this one to get one of these new forms of undead for study.”
“Yeah, yeah...” I pulled the bag out the cart and opened it up, only to immediately regret it when the smell hit my nose. Zombies who’ve been completely blasted to bits, then left in an enclosed space to ferment for several hours in the Freeport sun had a bit of an odor.
I averted my nose in the hopes that the smell wouldn’t be quite as bad after the initial burst of it. That gave me a chance to notice several hoofprints in the sand that hadn’t been left behind by me or Puzzle, but still looked very fresh. I decided to play a hunch and turned to Puzzle. “You said you got it from Starlight? So where is the nag queen of hypocrisy, anyway?”
I rolled my eyes. Seriously, how melodramatic could you get? “Cute. How long were you sitting around invisible, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal yourself?”
“Long enough,” she announced with an arrogant smirk. “So, are you ready for round two, Sun-butt?”
So far, the biggest threat she’d posed to me was that my eyeballs might fall out of their sockets from how often she was making me roll them. “Why would I want a rematch? I won, so I don’t have anything to prove.” I pointed at the remnants of the undead. “How about we drop all the posturing and you make yourself useful. I need an assistant who isn't completely incompetent.” I let that remark hang for just a moment before following up with, “Go find someone like that and tell them I need them.”
One of Starlight’s hooves slammed down on the sand as she snorted angrily. “Get off my island. I don't want you here.”
“Your island?” I repeated incredulously. “Last I heard it belonged to the commune, not you.”
“And I’m part of that commune,” she shot back without missing a beat. “It certainly belongs to me more than you.”
“And here I thought the whole point of a commune was that everyone was working together as equals without any personal property or possessions.” I shook my head. “And you obviously aren’t in charge, because the guy who does run things asked for my help.”
Starlight scoffed. “Oh please. Equal’s just our current community manager. He doesn’t have any right to bring in some outsider to come stomping around and ruin all our hard work at making a fair society. If you make half as much of a mess of this as I think you will, he’ll be voted out within a month and the commune will pick someone who actually knows how to run things. Someone who can keep them safe and create a fair, equitable society.”
I had a pretty good idea who Starlight had in mind for the position, but to be honest I couldn’t care less who was running this place a month from now. Small farm town politics weren’t why I was here. “That’s assuming your commune doesn't get eaten by zombies first.”
I snorted and turned my back on her—mentioning the zombies just reminded me that she really wasn’t worth the time and trouble. Instead I took a close look at what was left of the zombie Puzzle had acquired. “Huh. Well none of the green fire Equal was talking about. I guess that goes away when you take them out?”
After several seconds, Starlight surprised me by actually saying something useful. “Yeah, seems to die out with their magic. There's still some aetherial aura left afterwards, but the real power seems to fade away once you take them out.”
“No surprise. Once the vessel’s not in good enough shape to contain the animating power it fades away.” There were some types of undead that would keep moving despite getting torn to bits, but they were incredibly rare—from what I remembered of my lessons with Celestia, they only showed up when a necromancer wanted to experiment and didn’t mind the ridiculous amount of time and energy it took to make a zombie that could keep moving after it was ripped apart. You could make dozens of normal zombies for the same amount of effort as one tough one, and having the detached limbs move on their own really wasn’t good for much.
“Yeah, best way I found was to just blast them to bits,” Starlight supplied. “Taking out the head works too, but it’s easier to just shred them.”
“This one will bear the value of targeting the head in mind for those of us who cannot destroy dozens of them with a single spell,” Puzzle murmured dryly.
Meanwhile, I’d turned my attention to checking over the rest of the undead now that we’d dealt with the matter of the green fire. There didn’t seem to be much in the way of flesh left on this one, though I couldn’t be sure if that was how they were made or on account of Starlight’s destructive casting. In either case, that did leave its metallic bones exposed, not to mention massive coverings over all four of its hooves. I tried to tug one of those coverings off and got a nasty surprise. “This isn't equipment, it’s been fully integrated into the body.”
“I think it might be some sort of augmentation,” Starlight suggested, which made for three actually worthwhile remarks in a row. Credit where it’s due: when she wasn’t spouting off about her politics or being a total nag, she had a halfway decent understanding of magic. If she kept this up, she might actually be worth something. “It’s hard to say for sure, I didn't have any intact versions to study or a bunch of unmodified zombies to use as a control group to test them against.”
“Seems likely, though,” I conceded. “Can’t see any reason to stick all this metal on them unless it’s doing something useful. Having steel-plated bones would make them a lot harder to kill and increase the stresses they could sustain while attacking.”
“Especially when they’ve got plenty of raw magical power backing that up,” Starlight agreed. “I went to go see that crazy zebra guy once. His zombies weren’t even close to these. Whoever was putting these together must have done a lot of work just for some zombies.”
“Yeah.” I grimaced as a particularly unpleasant thought sprang to mind. “That makes me wonder if these are just practice for what he's really working on.”
Puzzle frowned thoughtfully. “If that is the case, then it seems your theory that this is some sort of test has a bit more credence. Someone capable of producing such an advanced form of zombie should be able to produce higher forms of undead.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “At least if they had the resources to do so. This type of thing doesn't come cheap.”
Starlight started pacing back and forth, kicking up little clouds of sand as she went. “Yeah, but that just raises more questions. Why is someone sending a bunch of powerful advanced zombies after us? We haven’t done anything!”
“It's unlikely to be about land.” Puzzle tapped one of the undead’s metallic bones. “There are better and easier ways to get everyone in this commune out of the way. This one expects the creature’s creator could make enough profit to buy this island a dozen times over by displaying its techniques in the proper circles.”
“Not to mention this island isn't all that great in the first place.” I noticed Starlight bristling a bit at my remark, and clarified it to avoid another stupid, pointless argument. I pointed at the horizon, where several other landmasses were visible. “We’re in the middle of the out-islands, and as far as I know there’s nothing that makes this island better than any of the dozens of uninhabited ones.” I gave the zombie a half-hearted kick. “I can't imagine you have anything else worth all the trouble of making these guys.”
Thankfully Starlight just nodded instead of throwing a hissy fit. “And it's not like whoever is doing this has told us what their problem is, and I can’t imagine anyone else out here hating us that much. We had a gang come by to try and shake us down for protection money, but between what I could do to them and the fact that we didn’t have anything worth taking, they backed off. I know some of the people here are like m—er, they’ve got some stuff in their past, but I can’t imagine anything this big.”
“Yeah, none of this makes sense,” I agreed. Which had to mean we didn’t have the full story, because I couldn’t imagine anyone intelligent enough to create these sorts of creatures was also so utterly bonkers they just did things for no rational reason. As Puzzle had warned me more than once, what you don’t know can still kill you.
“That's what's been driving me up the wall,” Starlight grumbled. “It’s like one of those puzzles where you know there’s a piece missing, and until you find it you can’t figure out what you’re dealing with.” I shot a quick grin at Puzzle, since I couldn’t help but be amused by the reference to his name. Meanwhile, Starlight sighed and shook her head. “Dammit, it’s not fair. I was finally settling in and starting to build a good thing here...”
That remark brought an interesting possibility to mind. “Anyone new in the group? Any other major changes lately?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s a pretty tight-knit group, and things stay pretty quiet out here. Aside from the undead, the only excitement we’ve had was that one gang that tried to shake us down for some ducats. Nobody new’s shown up since I got here either.”
I tapped my chin thoughtfully as my theory got a bit firmer. “So the attacks started after you showed up. Nobody else new in the area, no other major changes...”
Starlight scowled at me, pawing at the ground. “What are you getting at?”
“You made plenty of enemies back in Freeport,” I pointed out. “Robbing the richest, most powerful bank in the city and then starting a riot will do that. Maybe the World's Port Bank put out a hit on you?”
Puzzle frowned and shook his head. “Unlikely. If the World’s Port Bank wanted her dead, they would have done it before she was exiled, not while she’s on an isolated out-island. They would want her death to make a statement.” He tapped his hooves together, as it he were counting off points on a list. “Not to mention the bank is old money: if they were going to hire someone to attack Starlight, they're going to hire an established assassin to make sure the job gets done professionally. If this is them, then they handed a revenge job to some rookie in their organization who doesn't know what they're doing. That would be highly unusual.”
“Can’t argue with that,” I agreed with a shrug. “I’m no expert, but unleashing a zombie horde isn't how assassins usually do things.”
“It's too big and flashy,” Puzzle agreed. “And messy. Not something an established business would like.”
“Well, I haven't ticked anyone else off lately.” Starlight paused, then whirled on me, glaring suspiciously. “Unless you’re involved somehow.”
“Oh please.” I think that was the new winner for ‘stupidest things Starlight Glimmer has said in the course of this conversation.’
“You ruined my life!” Starlight shrieked, storming towards me. “Before you showed up I was living in a mansion!”
“You ruined your life all by yourself,” I answered calmly, though I did mentally prepare myself for the possibility that she was about to do something exceptionally stupid.
“Everything would have been fine if it wasn’t for you mucking everything up!” She jabbed me in the chest. “It’s all. Your. Fault!”
“Yeah, I’m sure that if not for me you would’ve been just fine after robbing a powerful bank that had put a big price on your head and wasn’t picky about whether you were captured dead or alive.” I glanced up at her horn, noting the small, circular discoloration where I’d burned a hole through it last time I’d dealt with her. “Looks like that healed up just like I said it would.”
Starlight’s horn lit up, and I could feel her drawing together energy for one of her ridiculously overcharged spells. However, she wasn’t shaping it into anything just yet—she wasn’t getting ready to attack, just thumping her chest. “You want to thrown down, nag?! Because I’d be happy to show you how much I’ve learned since you got lucky last time!”
In response I turned to Puzzle, not quite leaving my back exposed to Starlight but only barely watching her out of the corner of my eye. “I know I’ve got a bit of pride and temper, but I’m not that bad, right?”
Puzzle chuckled and grinned. “This one was always under the impression that the Shimmer-mare is quite good, for the most part.”
“Thanks.” I glanced back towards the village. “So, maybe we can get Strumming’s guards to set up a quick palisade around the town? I doubt we can make anything too strong with the time we’ve got, but anything’s better than nothing.”
“Hey!” Starlight tried to cut in. “That’s my village you’re talking about!”
Puzzle continued as if she hadn’t even spoken. “This one thinks it would be best to set up our defenses near the townhall. It’s the largest building in the commune, and the best built. It would give us a shorter line to defend and concentrate our forces. Not to mention we could build a short wall much more quickly, and there likely isn’t enough wood on the island to completely surround the entire village.”
“But the farmers won’t want to abandon their homes,” I pointed out.
Puzzle shrugged. “This one expects they will understand once the stakes are made clear. Homes can be rebuilt, and crops replanted. Replacing the dead is far more difficult.”
“And a bunch of zombies wouldn’t be looting everything in sight the way a living army would,” I pointed out. “Honestly, the biggest threat to everyone’s property would be collateral damage from our own defense efforts.” I shot a rather pointed look at the mare who’d leveled her own home trying to stop me from arresting her.
Unfortunately, acknowledging that she still existed seemed to encourage Starlight to try and get involved in the conversation again. “Hey, who said you could make decisions about my home?! You don't get to make decisions for us. I didn't ask you to come, and I don't want you around. You don’t live here! You don’t know anything about what our lives are like!”
As amusing as ignoring her had been, I wasn’t going to let her latest remarks pass. “So sorry I hurt your feelings by trying to save everyone in this commune. If you're gonna contribute something useful, go right ahead. If you just want to keep acting like a worthless whiny little pile of horseapples, you can stay outside the palisade when the zombies come again.”
“That does it!” Starlight stomped over and got in my face. “You and me! Right here, right now! I’ll kick your sorry plot so hard you’ll be running all the way back to Freeport! You already stole everything else from me. There’s no way I’ll let you take away my village too! It’s mine!”
Ugh. Maybe I should just go ahead and fight her already. She was obviously going to keep causing problems until I put her in her place. Managing any sort of defence plan was going to be close to impossible if Starlight kept pitching a fit about everything and trying to turn everyone in the commune against us. If the undead really were after her, maybe I could just knock her out, then toss her over the wall and solve all my problems at once.
Puzzle must’ve had some idea of what was going through my head, because he pointedly cleared his throat and stepped between the two of us. “Let’s not do anything hasty we might regret later.” He set his attention firmly on Starlight. “Think of it this way: we know that whoever is behind this is most likely going to attack again, and next time it will be with something worse.” He waved towards the dock, where Strumming was going over plans with her soldiers. “You will need help if your commune is going to survive, and attacking Sunset will only weaken yourself when they attack later, and deprive you of our help. You might be able to fight a bunch of zombies, but how well will things go if you have to fight Sunset, then more zombies, whatever abomination comes after them, and then this necromancer that has it out for your village?”
Starlight opened her mouth to retort, but nothing came out. I guess even her skull wasn’t so dense she couldn’t follow Puzzle’s reasoning. She glared hatefully at the changeling, then shifted it to me for a bit, then back to him. “Fine then. You can help. But only because I don't want my new home to get smashed to pieces like my last one.”
“Works for me.” I turned my back on her, and muttered under my breath. “As long as you control your spells, we'll be fine.”
“Yeah, buck you too,” Starlight snapped, turning her back on me as well.
Puzzle and I walked off, glad to be done with the least interesting mare in the world. Once she was safely out of earshot, I smirked at Puzzle. “That went better than expected.”
“This one likes to think it can be very persuasive,” Puzzle answered immodestly.
“And I didn't set her on fire,” I chimed in. “You have been telling me to work on my diplomatic skills. I think that shows real progress.”
“Yes,” Puzzle agreed dryly. “You showed a great deal of self control. This one is proud of you.” He grinned and nudged me. “Which reminds this one, it does actually have another present waiting for you...”
I grinned and looked myself over the mirror once more. I liked what I saw.
I was covered in scales. Not literal ones—Puzzle hadn’t skinned a dragon, but for the protection it offered, he might as well have. Half-oval mithril scales covered me from neck to flank and shoulder to under my belly, with matching scale-like greaves both above and below my knee. The joints themselves were covered by ligaments padded with some kind of shape-moulding fabric that didn’t feel like it would chafe against my knees. A matching hood rolled up and rested in a bun against the back of my neck, and didn’t even dig into my neck after a few quick adjustments. There wasn’t much in the way of ornamentation just yet, but I figured I could add a clasp or something around the neck later on.
The entire suit was tinted bronze that was a few shades darker than my coat, and even though Strumming would’ve probably cracked some stupid joke about it shimmering in the light … well, she would’ve been right. I’d have to find a way to dull that if I ever needed to sneak around, but stealth didn’t really fit my style anyway.
The suit was half as light as I expected it to be, given how much metal I was wearing, and the first time I turned in it I almost tripped from overcompensation. I turned a circle around the room, holding up a couple mirrors to check how I looked from different angles. I wasn’t vain about my looks, but that didn’t mean I didn’t appreciate looking good. “I like it.” I grinned at Puzzle. “So what brought this on?”
Puzzle looked me over, then adjusted the armor so it rested a bit better on my shoulders. “There is the little fact that we’ve made a habit of going into life-threatening danger, and will shortly be doing so again. This one thought it best to make sure you were well protected.”
“Well I can't fault that reasoning.” Some armor definitely would’ve saved me a few injuries on some past jobs that had gone horribly wrong. Which happened far too often. Granted, nearly ending up dead once was too many times, as far as I was concerned.
Strumming tugged on the armor, then smirked. “This is nice custom work. Which makes me wonder how he got your measurements for the blacksmith, since this stuff is a perfect fit. Considering this was a surprise present, he obviously didn’t call you in for a bunch of adjustments.”
Puzzle smirked. “This one is an information broker. What type of spy would this one be if it couldn't find out a little detail like what size to make the Shimmer-mare’s armor?”
Now I had to wonder if Puzzle had gone over me with a measuring tape while I was napping. Or paid Kukri to do so. Or something else entirely. Regardless of the details in how he pulled it off... “Well that's slightly creepy.”
“This one does a great many things some might consider creepy,” Puzzle announced dryly. “Its stock and trade is learning others’ secrets, then selling that information to interested parties.” He blinked, then held up a hoof. “Though this one feels that, for the sake of its health and happiness, it should state that it would never sell information regarding the Shimmer-mare’s body.”
“Good idea.” My eyes narrowed. “Now that we’re such good friends, I’d hate to have to set you on fire.”
“This one would much prefer that it not be set on fire as well,” Puzzle deadpanned. “It has no first-hoof experience, but judging by the reactions of those who have suffered such a fate it sounds extremely painful.”
“It didn't look fun,” I agreed. “Plus once you were done burning I’d have to find someone to replace you. That would be really inconvenient.”
Strumming slowly circled around me, giving my new armor a few more pokes. “This stuff looks expensive.” She grinned and elbowed Puzzle in the ribs. “It better not cost more than the presents you buy me, or we're gonna have words.”
The changeling rolled his eyes. “This one was considering taking the cost of this armor out of the Shimmer-mare’s pay for this job.”
That caught my attention. “We're getting paid that much? I thought you were grumping about us losing money on this job.”
“We would be if we had stuck to the Shimmer-mare’s plan,” Puzzle groused.
Strumming smirked and wrapped a wing across his shoulders. “Lucky for you and your wallet, bug boy worked something out.”
“This one is very clever like that,” Puzzle agreed with a confident smirk. “This one’s ability to make a profit on a foolishly sentimental endeavour is one of the reasons you come to this one for jobs such as these.”
“He’s a sneaky one,” Strumming agreed, ruffling Puzzle’s head-crest. “He’s the one who set it up so me and my buddies can run around in Freeport territory without causing any diplomatic incidents. This is technically a joint Freeport/Equestrian police operation. You guys wanna arrest Necro McWarlock for attacking this village, and we want him for being ... well, Necro McWarlock.”
“Much cheaper than hiring the Doos,” Puzzle murmured to me. “This one doubts Glaive would grant it a squad of clanponies in exchange for a bottle of springwine and a hoof massage.” Puzzle cleared his throat and raised his voice for Strumming’s benefit. “This one finds that the jobs where everyone gets something they want are the best. Well, except for the warlocks, in this case. But this one doesn't think we're particularly concerned about that issue in this instance.”
“Nah,” Strumming agreed. “Orders are to capture him alive for trial if possible, but I'm pretty sure the Council would prefer for us corpsify him. Makes for much less paperwork, and spares us the long argument over who prosecutes him first.”
“Probably,” Puzzle agreed nonchalantly. “However, this one thinks that we’ll just have to see how dangerous this necromancer is when he shows himself. No sense locking down which one we'll go for before we know for certain how powerful he is, and what he’s capable of.” He shrugged. “Some targets are easy to capture, while some are far too dangerous to even consider capturing. Not to mention that when you’re dealing with necromancers, death does not always have the degree of permanency one would expect.”
I hoped Puzzle was wrong about that. Knowing the bad guy we were up against probably had something really big and nasty waiting in the wings was worrying enough. If he’d also gone and made himself hard to kill, I might be in over my head. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, and we could just knock him out and be done with all this. “Let's not get all fired up for murder unless there's no choice.”
“This one would like to play it by ear,” Puzzle confirmed. “Unfortunately, we just don't know much about this warlock yet. Which is very annoying. This one hates not knowing things, especially such fundamental facts as what its opponent can do and what its goals are.”
“Makes it hard for us to hammer out much in the way of strategy, beyond building the wall. Still hoping I'm right with my theory that he’s after Starlight. It would explain a lot, plus maybe we could just hoof her over and solve the whole problem.” Okay, I was mostly joking about letting the crazy evil necromancer take Starlight. Mostly.
“She is the newest element in the commune,” Puzzle agreed. “Though this one wonders what she might have done to make a necromancer come after her. Unless she is lying to us, she has no idea why she is a target.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, then added. “This one could look into whether she is concealing anything from us.”
“I’ll help,” Strumming chimed in. “Not much else for me to do. When it comes to building a palisade, my contributions are pretty much limited to ‘Sergeant, have your soldiers build a palisade.’ Sneaking around and digging up other ponies secrets? That’s much more my speed.”
“It seems we have a plan, then.” Puzzle turned to me, grinning. “Shimmer-mare, this one would suggest you remain active and in the open. The Glimmer-mare seems fixated on you, and would likely pay far too much attention to your activities to notice us.”
“Sounds good to me.” I sighed and rolled my shoulders, already feeling pretty comfortable with my new armor. I tossed my black magus cloak on over it. Hopefully the temperature-regulating spells I’d worked into it would keep me from roasting once I was out in the tropical sun. “Try to make it fast. If she keeps getting on my nerves...”
“Yeah, yeah, set her on fire,” Strumming acknowledged with a bored hoofwave. “We got it.”
When I followed through with the plan to distract Starlight while Strumming and Puzzle did a little digging, I found Starlight ... digging. Strumming’s guards were hard at work getting everyone in the commune to throw up a simple log palisade around the town hall, and Starlight was using her magic to dig out holes for all the logs. Fortunately, it looked like we would have enough trees to get the job done.
I stepped up and grabbed one of the logs, grunting with effort as I lifted it up and slotted it into place. Starlight glanced my way and blinked in surprise, then scowled. However, before she could say anything else her eyes flicked left and right, taking note of the villagers all around around us. She took a breath, then spoke with forced neutrality. “Sunset.”
“Starlight.” I silently picked up another shovel and got to work. I didn’t particularly want to start another shouting match with her, especially not where the entire village could see and hear everything. It would cause problems we didn’t need, and even if I wasn’t worried about that, Starlight just wasn’t worth the effort.
Once I’d finished with my hole, Starlight set a log into it. She stared at me for several seconds, then cleared her throat. “So...”
I set aside my shovel for a moment to make eye contact. “Yeah?”
Starlight frowned and turned away from me, packing the dirt in around the log. “Why'd you come to my commune?”
I picked the shovel back up and got to work next to her. “Equal said you needed help.”
For a second I thought she’d start growling about how they didn’t need my help and she had everything under control, but she surprised me by taking a different direction. “Yeah, but why'd you come?” She glanced over at the Equestrian guards, frowning. “You don't exactly have the most ... altruistic companions.”
I shrugged and threw a bit of fire at the base of the log to harden the dirt and hold it in place. “Puzzle found a way to turn a profit on it, and Strumming seems to be more interested in taking out the necromancer than helping your village. Me...” I thought it over for a bit then shrugged. “There were a bunch of crazy zombies coming after this place. You needed help.”
Starlight finished up her side of the log, then scowled at me. “Oh, please. Do you really expect me to buy that you're a bleeding heart?”
I’m not sure what I’d expected her to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. Out of all the words I could think of describe myself, ‘bleeding heart’ was nowhere on the list. I mean, maybe someone might think that from me rushing in to save this place without worrying about if I would make a good profit on it, but that wasn’t bleeding heart. More ... not being a total jerk. “To be honest, Starlight, I don't care if you believe me or not.” I shifted my attention to the next log we had to work on, using a burst of fire to clear away all the twigs and limbs.
Starlight grunted and picked the log up, moving it into place. “You must have known I was here.”
“It came up,” I acknowledged.
The log slipped into its hole with a heavy thunk. “So you actually came despite knowing that?”
“Yeah.” I filled in the rest of the hole, then baked the ground. “Believe it or not, I don't want to see an entire village wiped out just because you live there. Besides, I am Freeport's magus. Dealing with stuff like crazy necromancers is part of the job.”
“Even if it means you’re losing money?” Starlight asked skeptically.
I shrugged. “My bank account's secure enough to survive a bit of altruism.” To be honest, I really didn’t even pay that much attention to the money, beyond making sure I had enough of it for what I needed. The World’s Port Bank had given me a very nice account as thanks for dealing with Starlight, and one of their financial guys made sure my money all stayed together and earned a decent interest rate.
Starlight snorted skeptically. “Oh come on. Do you really expect me to believe you're a mare of the people? You live in that big, fancy, obsidian tower that sticks out of the middle of Freeport like a huge black eyesore.”
My tower wasn’t an eyesore. Yeah, it was big and unique, but those are good things for a mage’s tower. And honestly, compared to some of the crazy architecture you could run into in the richer sections of Freeport, my smooth black tower was downright tame by comparison. And as far as ‘mare of the people’ credentials went... “That’s pretty rich from someone who was living in a mansion last time we met.”
“That's different,” Starlight answered primly.
Oh boy, this should be a fun chance to hear some hypocritical ranting. “Alright, I’ll humor you. Explain it to me.”
Starlight scoffed and planted her hooves, proudly thrusting out her chest. “My dad won some money in a lottery. He didn't hurt anyone to get all those ducats. It's not like he was some dockmaster who stole his fortune off the backs of a bunch of dockside laborers who barely get enough pay to feed themselves, or a merchant who buys up all the grain, then sells it back for five times that when everyone starts starving. We earned our money honestly.”
I rolled my eyes. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t oppressing anyone for a living.”
Starlight defiantly met my eyes. “Yeah, but you've accepted money from those that do. That’s just as bad.”
“Didn't your father win a government-run lottery?” I countered. “Because I’m pretty sure you’d classify the Freeport government as one of those oppressors you’re railing against.”
She scoffed and shook her head. “Yeah, the government uses those lotteries to trick a bunch of scared, desperate ponies with the dream that maybe some day they’ll get lucky if they keep giving away their money. They pocket half of it for themselves, then randomly dump the rest onto someone to convince the masses that one day that could be them if they just keep feeding into the cycle of repression.”
“Which was exactly my point.” I dug out another hole for the next log. “Wasn’t your father just perpetuating and propping up the corrupt system you’re always complaining about?”
Starlight sighed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, whatever.” She moved the log into place. “How my dad got his ducats isn’t what matters. The important thing is that I want to help people without having to play by the rules of others.”
I was a bit surprised to hear myself say, “That's actually something I can agree with.” I snorted and shook my head. “Who would've thought?”
“It was bound to happen sooner or later.” Starlight agreed with a wry grin. “I mean, we're both exiles stuck a long way from home.”
My ears drooped at the reminder. “Yeah, I guess we are, aren't we?” Whenever I was almost used to thinking of Freeport as home, something new would come up to remind me that it wasn’t.
“Twice for me,” Starlight confirmed. “Well, more or less. Celestia’s school was never home, but I was there for long enough to get kinda comfortable. Even if Canterlot was full of snooty, upper-class snobs who are more concerned about their image than anything important, I still wasn’t wild about getting kicked out.”
“Most of the nobles aren’t that bad if you just know how to deal with them,” I pointed out. “Namely, by not jumping on them for being snooty upper-class snobs.”
“That’s real rich coming from you,” Starlight snapped. “I did a little research after our fight. Wanted to know who I was dealing with. Yeah, your family might not have any noble titles, but you can’t pretend you weren’t part of the elite. Both your parents were archmagi, for pony’s sake! Not to mention being Princess Celestia’s protegé.”
“Just because someone’s born into privilege doesn’t make them automatically a stuck-up snob,” I countered. “Just look at you.”
“That’s different,” Starlight insisted. “My family didn’t have centuries of fame and fortune. We might’ve gotten lucky and struck it rich, but we remembered our roots as common ponies.”
“And yet, despite all my family history, here I am helping you and all the other common ponies.” I concentrated on lifting the next log into place, but this one was particularly thick and difficult to move. After a second Starlight chipped in to help me get it into place.
“Yeah, I guess you are,” Starlight conceded once we were done, frowning as she stared at me. “What, is it some sort of noblesse oblige thing?”
“Nah, I wouldn’t call it that.” I scorched the sand to hold the log in place. “More like ... well just having some basic decency.” I shrugged. “First Puzzle, now you. Why’s everyone making such a big deal out of me helping? What, do you think I want a medal or something? ‘Congratulations, you’re not a horrible pony who let an entire village be wiped out!’”
Starlight scoffed and shook her head. “Well at least you’re honest. The fact that you expect to get paid once you’re done does kill any effort to set yourself up as a hero of the common pony.”
“I do like having a place to live and food to eat,” I countered. “Not to mention supplies, research materials, hospital bills; being a magus isn’t cheap.” My eyes narrowed as a fresh thought sprang to mind. “Though while we’re on that subject, need I mention how you kept most of the money you stole 'for the common ponies' for yourself?”
“I had good intentions for that money,” Starlight shot back. “Just because I hadn’t given most of it away within a few hours of stealing it all doesn’t mean I planned to keep it all for myself.”
That all sounded good, but she’d left out one key fact. “And that fancy dress you were buying?”
Her ears dropped, and her gaze shot to the side, then she said something that really surprised me. “That ... was a mistake.” She sighed and shook her head. “I guess I let the money get to my head. Told myself I was doing so much good for the common pony that I’d earned a few rewards for myself as well. Thankfully, I learned from it. Now I wouldn’t waste valuable money on something as frivolous as fancy clothes.” Her eyes rather pointedly dropped to very nice set of armor I had on.
I tapped my armored chest, causing the scales to clink off each other. “Not frivolous in my case. It’s an entirely practical investment: I can’t help anyone if I’m dead.”
Starlight shrugged. “We’ll see how well it holds up in battle. Anyway, what I was saying is that I've learned a lot about what's important since then. Silly dresses and what a bunch of stuck-up jerks think of me aren’t things that really matter. What would I even do with a nice dress out here? Not like it would stay nice for long. We're a little more concerned with keeping all our tools in good shape, and not being hungry.” She scoffed and shook her head. “Fancy dresses. Most ponies would love to have that kinda thing be their biggest problem.”
I lifted up a couple more logs and put them into place. “Sounds like you actually don’t mind being exiled off to live with the common pony.”
She frowned to herself as she packed sand in around the log. “You know, I really don’t. In a weird way, a part of me is glad that things worked out the way they did.” She looked up at and her eyes narrowed. “I’m not saying I forgive you for destroying my home and attacking me, but coming out here was a nice silver lining to the cloud.” She waved a hoof, encompassing the entire commune. “This is how ponies should live. A community where everyone is perfectly equal. We all work together and support each other without letting status, titles, or wealth get in the way. Equestria likes to talk about harmony, but what we have is far more harmonious than anything they’ve ever produced.”
“But there's always going to be some who stand above the rest,” I argued. “Think about it. You’ve got all differences between species: a pony and a gryphon will never be exactly the same. And even if you stick with just ponies, some ponies are naturally smarter, stronger, or faster than others. I've still got more magical talent than anypony who doesn't have wings, and you're ... above average.”
Starlight scowled to herself “Well maybe that's something that should get fixed someday. It’s not like you did anything to earn being born with more magical talent than anyone else.”
My eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You’re above average too. Would you wanna give up your magic just to be equal with those who don’t have it?”
She hesitated, and her eyes flicked down to the side. She took a deep breath, then slowly nodded. “If it meant an equal society, sure. Though I’d rather bring ponies up to our level than drag everyone down to the lowest common denominator. And just because we have a society of equals doesn’t mean everyone has to be utterly identical.” She waved a hoof, encompassing the commune. “Look at what we have here. The fact that I have so much magical power doesn’t make me special. I’m just as equal as everyone else.”
Something about the way she said it was almost ... believable. Something about the eager glow in her eyes and genuine enthusiasm in her voice told me that she was a true believer. The harsh dose of reality she’d gotten hadn’t shaken her out of her ideals, it had brought them into focus and changed her from a spoiled young mare with a few ideas into ... something else. “Huh. You've changed.”
Starlight sniffed haughtily. “Ponies do that sometimes. I’m sure you’re not the exact same as when you first came to Freeport?”
“Okay, you've got a point there.” I’d certainly gone through a lot since I first set sail for Freeport. I hadn’t been planning on staying. For that matter, I hadn’t been planning on much of anything. I’d only hopped on a ship to Freeport because I’d been on the run, and that ship was the first one I found that was leaving immediately and seemed safe enough to sail on. Instead I’d found a place that was starting to feel a bit like home, despite its flaws. And while I’m not quite sure I could really call Puzzle or Strumming friends, they were certainly the closest I’d ever had to that. And Kukri ... I loved the little bug, and really enjoyed teaching her.
Yeah. I’d changed a lot. Should it really be that surprising that Starlight could change to?
I thought it over for a bit longer, then slowly extended a hoof. “I know you don’t like me, and I still find you pretty annoying, but there’s a lot more at stake here than our pride. What do you say we drop the rivalry, and focus on working together to save everyone here?”
She thought it over for a long moment, then sighed. “Yeah, hate to say it, but you’re right. We've got enough troubles that I can’t afford to be picky about who’s offering help.” She took my hoof, shaking it. “So, what’s your plan?”
“With any luck, we have until nightfall to finish the palisade.” I took a quick look at our current rate of progress, and felt reasonably optimistic we could make it. “Of course, that’s assuming they attack tonight. From what you’ve said, they don’t show up all the time.”
Starlight shook her head. “It’s been off-and-on. Though with us building up a wall and your soldiers coming in, I’d bet they try something tonight.” Starlight grimaced. “I only know what I’ve read in history books, but if I was in charge of the zombie army that’s what I would do. Waiting just gives us more time to build up defenses, and maybe get more help from the outside. Think the necromancer will show himself?”
“Seems likely.” I frowned, thinking back to my examination of the zombie we’d recovered. “Mindless undead need to be controlled, and the more you have the more work it is. He’d have to be pretty close to a zombie army to keep it together and pointed in the right direction. If they launch a full-out attack, he’ll be there.”
Starlight grimaced, then leaned in close and carefully whispered. “Can we win?”
I shrugged and whispered back. “Depends. I still don’t know enough about what we’re up against. Honest opinion, how good are your farmers in a fight?”
“They’re farmers,” she answered bluntly. “They’ll fight for their homes, and most of them are pretty brave and hardworking, but ... they’re farmers. We don’t have proper weapons or armor, and those metal zombies are pretty tough. I took out a couple with spells, but pitchforks and hoes aren’t designed for fighting, and definitely not for breaking armor.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” Much as storytellers love tales of plucky underdogs, in the real world training and equipment make a huge difference. “I think we need a backup plan.”
Starlight nodded. “Something better than running for the boats with everything we can carry.” She grimaced. “That was our ... well actually our only plan if they showed up and launched a big attack.”
“We can do better than that.” I looked out over the surrounding area, searching for anything we could use. Alas, the commune had cleared most of the nearby land to make room for their farms, and our own wall-building efforts had stripped the island of much of its remaining trees. Terrain and natural resources were ... lacking. All we had was a bunch of crop fields, a log wall, and a growing pile of scrap wood from the construction of said wall.
I turned to Starlight, grinning. “I have an idea. It’s gonna take a while to set up, so we need to get started right now.”
There was just one problem with my plan: it required a lot of preparatory spellwork. Hours of it. Days would have been better, but I had to agree with Starlight’s assessment: if there was any intelligence controlling these undead, it wouldn’t give us that much time. I doubted I’d be able to get things anywhere close to ideal with my limited time and resources, but I was doing the best I could with what I had available.
That’s where another problem with the plan came up. Extended spellcasting takes a lot of concentration over an extended period of time. When I was in my tower, I was reasonably certain nothing would interrupt me, especially since I usually told Kukri to keep anyone out unless it was an emergency. Out in the middle of a farming village, getting that level of isolated serenity was ... not happening.
Puzzle trotted over and took a seat at my side. “Shimmer-mare, this one hopes it is not interrupting anything important...”
It was a little late to worry about that after the damage was already done. “I'm—I was concentrating on a spell.”
“Ah.” Despite his almost perfectly unreadable face, I could pick up just a tiny hint of embarrassment in Puzzle’s voice. “Concentration this one just interrupted, no doubt.”
“Little bit, yeah.” I sighed and shook my head. There was no point in getting snappy with him. It’s not like he’d meant to mess up my spellcasting, and I’d been at it for long enough that taking a little break was probably a good idea. “In case you wondered, I’m working on a big spell to deal with the zombies if they show up.”
Puzzle cocked his head to the side. “And what spell is that, if this one may ask?”
I really didn’t want to run him through the whole plan, but I didn’t think I could get away with denying information to a guy who’s entire job was getting information. Better to just tell him outright, rather than try to stonewall him and risk being pestered for hours. “Right now, it's a dehydration spell on that barley field. There's a whole lot more to do after that.”
Puzzle frowned skeptically. “A barley field? This one doesn't think the farmers will like you destroying their crops.”
I shrugged. “I talked it over with Starlight. They’re not wild about it, but if it saves the village, they can live with one less barley field.” I waved back at the rest of the village. “It’s just leaving their houses outside the wall—surviving is more important.”
Puzzle nodded. “This one is glad to hear the villagers are being so sensible about this. It just wanted to make sure there wasn't going to be an issue.”
“Always thinking ahead.” That was the main reason I worked with Puzzle, after all. That and his uncanny ability to make sure I made enough money to stay in business. “I guess you didn't turn up anything on Starlight being a target?”
Puzzle sighed and shook his head. “Nothing more than the zombies seem to make her their primary target every time they show up. Or at least they seem to focus on her once she shows herself. Though most of the villagers just think it's because she is responsible for almost all of their losses thus far. It has raised her profile in the community considerably.”
I grunted and nodded. “Yeah, can't exactly fault that logic. She's the main threat, so they focus everything on taking her out first.”
“Just so,” Puzzle agreed. “So while it could support your theory that she is the primary target, that's hardly anything conclusive.”
Great, just what I was hoping for. Nothing conclusive. “Well, if this works I’ll be dealing with the zombies. Maybe that’ll show us something.”
“Perhaps,” Puzzle agreed. “Though even if your spell works, we will still have to face whatever comes after the zombies. This one hopes you don’t mind if this one stays hidden for most of the action.”
There’d been a time when I might have gotten grumpy with him over that decision, but I’d learned a lot from working with him for most of a year. “Actually, I’d recommend it.” Sticking Puzzle on the front line would be a waste of his talents.
Puzzle grinned, showing off his fangs. “As long as we both agree that this one is not a coward, but merely prudent.”
I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “Relax, your reputation is safe with me. If anyone asks, you were standing right next to me with weapons in both hooves. Now shoo, busy casting spells.”
The changeling chuckled and nodded, getting up. “Alright, alright, this one will leave you to your work.”
He trotted off, leaving me in peace ... for about five minutes.
I was torn out of my spellcasting trance by a sharp jab on the shoulder. “Hey, Sunset! I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last minute.”
I opened my eyes and glowered at Starlight, though I didn’t care enough to do anything worse. “Working on the plan. Need to concentrate.”
Starlight shot me a token glare for getting a bit snappish, but didn’t push things past that. “Right, right, the plan. Though that’s kinda one of the things I needed to talk to you about. I think we might need to make a couple changes.”
My teeth clenched, but I valiantly resisted the urge to say or do something I’d regret. “What sort of changes did you have in mind?”
“Well, first things first, could you maybe go to that sorghum field over there?” She pointed off to a slightly different area from where I’d been working. “It's not doing as well as the barley, plus the market price has been down lately and it's farther from the village. So it would be less of a loss if you destroy it.”
“You want to change where we’re setting up?” I scowled, and a bit of petulance slipped into my voice. “You do know I’ve been working on getting the barley field ready, don’t you? Maybe you should’ve figured this kind of thing out before I started working?”
Starlight glared and let out an annoyed huff. “Things are a bit chaotic right now, and I didn't think of it while we were talking.”
I groaned a ran a hoof through my mane. “Fine, fine. The far sorghum field. Got it. You can still get your end of things set up over there, right?”
“Of course,” Starlight sniffed haughtily. “It’ll be easy. Though I’m not exactly wild about what you had in mind for me...”
“We’re setting up a trap,” I answered simply. “Traps need bait.”
“Yeah, but why do I have to be the bait?” she demanded.
“Because the zombies are more interested in you than anyone else,” I answered simply. “The whole point of bait is that it has to pull the bad guys in. Besides, I thought you’d be willing to put your life on the line to protect your community.”
“Oh don’t give me that horseapples,” Starlight snapped at me. “There’s a big difference between defending my home and what you’re asking me to do. You do realize that if the plan goes wrong you could end up burning me to a crisp along with all those zombies.”
I smirked at her. “What, are you saying you’re not confident in your shield spell’s ability to resist a bit of fire?”
“Go buck yourself,” Starlight shot back. However, my remark must’ve worked, because she dropped the issue. “Okay, one last thing: did you want stew for lunch?”
I shrugged. “I'm not picky.”
“Good, because stew is all we've got.”
I spared a faintly annoyed glare at her. “Then why did you ask me?”
“Going hungry is also an option,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Plus, I didn’t know if you’d brought your own food. I know that one pegasus leading the Guards seems to have her saddlebags stuffed to the brim with snacks. Anyway, it’s a fish and seaweed stew. You picky about the fish part of that?”
“You can save the fish for someone who wants it.” I’d made a lot of adjustments since moving to Freeport, but an omnivorous diet wasn’t one of them. It’s not like I hated eating fish or shrimp, but they just ... didn’t appeal to me. Maybe it was an acquired taste. “Just bring the stew when it’s ready. I already have to redo everything I’ve done in the last half hour.”
“I’ll have someone take care of it.” Starlight got up and finally left me in peace.
“Now if I can just finish this up without any more distractions...” In hindsight, I really should’ve known better than to tempt fate like that.
Sure enough, I’d just about finished catching up with my work on the sorghum field when Equal Share trotted over. “I brought your stew, Magus.”
I clenched my teeth and slowly took a deep breath. “Thank you, Equal. Just set it down, and I'll eat it in a bit.”
“Of course.” He set it down in front of me. “And may I just say, Magus, how much I and everyone else in the commune appreciate how you’ve come here to help us?”
“You’re welcome,” I grunted out.
Equal cleared his throat. “If there is anything you need, anything at all—”
“I’ll let you know,” I finished for him. “If you don’t mind, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now.”
Equal blinked, then hastily stood. “Oh! Yes, of course. I didn’t mean to—I’ll leave you to ... uh ... whatever it is you’re doing.”
He left me in peace, but by this point I wasn’t even surprised when another irritant came rushing in to fill the vacuum he’d left behind. Strumming trotted over, noisily chewing on some of the loudest potato chips I’d ever heard in my life. To make matters worse, they were one of the brands that came in a bag that made a ridiculous amount of noise every time she reached in for a another chip. “Hey, bacon-mane, how's it coming along? Want some crisps?”
Okay, that did it. No more Miss Nice Sunset. “Trying to concentrate, keep getting interrupted. You. Gone. Now. Or else fire.”
Strumming rolled her eyes. “Sheesh, maybe you are a real magus after all. You don’t quite have the subtle part of it down, but you’re definitely grumpy and quick to anger.”
“Hair ignites at 233 degrees,” I answered conversationally.
“Okay, okay...” Strumming slipped out, taking her noisy bag of chips with her.
I groaned and ran a hoof down my face. “I swear, if anything else interrupts me, I’m just encasing myself in a solid dome of ice.” I closed my eyes and got back to work.
“One thing I gotta ask,” Strumming whispered from her hiding place. “Why’s everyone so sure the zombies are gonna come at night? Is it, like, a tradition thing? ‘Cause I’m also pretty sure traditional undead don’t come with steel-plated bones.”
I groaned and shifted about as best I could without giving away my hiding place in the positively arid sorghum field. “Is it really that important, Strumming?”
“Could be.” She somehow managed to turn around to face me without making a ton of noise in the process. “Just saying: if I was a sneaky necromancer guy who knew everyone was expecting me to attack in the dead of the night, I’d let everyone stay up all night waiting for me to make my move, then attack about two hours after sunrise. Catch everyone while they’re tired from being up all night.”
“Every attack so far has been at night,” Starlight hissed in reply.
“Which could just be the bad guy establishing a pattern so he can break it later,” Strumming countered. “You’d be surprised how much you can throw someone off by giving them an incorrect first impression.”
From the grin on her lips, I got the feeling she was trying to send some kind of message with that remark. Maybe some sort of commentary on our first meeting. In hindsight, a part of me had to wonder if her cover ‘accidently’ being blown was really an accident at all. She’d been a bit too ready to give me a nice long talking-to about how my current lack-of-a-plan wasn’t working, but at the time I was taken in by the goofball antics. Hay, I’d still been blindsided by her killing off the bokor even though I knewStrumming was a lot more dangerous than she looked.
I didn’t particularly like being reminded of that again, but it did bring one or two worthwhile facts to mind. “There’s a reason undead usually stick to nighttime: direct sunlight weakens necromantic energy. Some types of undead are outright destroyed by it, but almost all of them will be weakened by it.” I held up a hoof to forestall the inevitable objection. “Almost all of them. There are ways to get around that, though it comes at a price. That’s why we carved through the bokor’s zombies without any trouble. I don’t think these crazy metal and fire zombies can have that and be shielded against the sun too. They won’t melt or catch on fire or anything, but if they attack while the sun’s up they’ll be way weaker.”
Starlight grimaced suspiciously. “How do you know so much about undead, anyway?”
I was tempted to not even dignify her remark with a response, but there was a simple enough answer. “I knew we were coming to an island under attack by a bunch of freaky zombies. Are you really surprised I did some research on the ship ride over?”
Strumming nodded along thoughtfully. “So he wouldn’t gain much of an advantage from attacking us at a different time then? Not unless he’s got more than zombies and other things that ought to be dead to throw at us, anyways.”
“Pretty much, yeah,” I confirmed. “Unless he really caught us by surprise, attacking during the day wouldn't be worth weakening his own guys. As far as living minions go, we haven’t seen any sign of them, and it seems pretty unlikely since Puzzle didn’t mention anything about someone hiring up mercs.” I frowned and shook my head. “If we assume he has everything we can’t prove he doesn’t have, then he's got so many nasty tricks up his sleeve that our best move would be to load up on boats and get out.”
Starlight frowned at me. “You make that sound like getting everyone onto ships in an emergency would be easy.”
I sighed and shook my head. “Puzzle’s been making a couple subtle preparations for just in case we have to do that, but I’m not planning to back down unless that’s the only sane choice.” Everypony seemed to think I had some sort of hero complex, but I definitely had no interest in carrying out a heroic last stand. I like living, and being alive. Especially since the necromancer we were up against would probably try to animate my corpse after I died.
Starlight scowled at me. “Good, because abandoning the commune would pretty much ruin most of the ponies here. Everything they have is on this island, and without it most of them would probably end up being indentured servants.”
I grunted and nodded. “Which is why we only do that if the alternative is everyone dying. Poor is better than dead.” Or undead, considering we were up against a necromancer who would need to replenish his ranks after the fighting.
Starlight’s eyes flicked back to the freshly walled village. “Can't say I feel particularly good about leaving our backup plan to the greedy merc.”
Strumming huffed softly. “Well if you’re going to be talking that way about my boyfriend, I'm not sharing my chips with you.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “No badmouthing one of our buddies. Let’s just focus on winning so it doesn’t become—”
Strumming planted a hoof over my mouth, cutting off the rest of my sentence. Considering her hoof was covered in farm dirt, I wasn’t especially happy about that. “Hush.” One of her ears twitched to the side. “Heard something.”
Starlight and I didn’t argue the point, staying quiet and listening. After several seconds I made out the sounds of rustling in the distance, though that could’ve just been the wind. Then I spotted a brief flicker of green light.
“That's them alright, ”Starlight whispered.
While I normally wouldn’t want to follow Starlight’s lead, she did have far more experience in dealing with these particular nasties. I nodded and dropped my voice as low as I could. “Remember the plan: hit them hard enough to convince them we’re serious about it, then a fighting retreat to the sorghum field. Then we make our move.”
“Right,” Starlight grumbled under her breath. “The part of the plan where I convince them all to come after me, and hope you’re in time to save my butt. How did I let you talk me into serving as bait again?”
“I have a very trustworthy face,” I deadpanned. “And at least you’ll have me and Strumming backing you up for first stage of the plan.”
“That makes me feel sooo much better.” She took a deep breath, then started slowly trotting towards the flickering green lights, which were slowly getting closer and more numerous.
Strumming and I followed along behind her. As we walked, the pegasus slipped over to my side and whispered. “You know, if I was Puzzle, I would suggest that now might be a good time to eliminate a potential future problem.”
I might not have her completely figured out, but even I knew that suggestion was far more Strumming than Puzzle. Especially in light of what she’d done with the bokor earlier. I frowned and shook my head. “We might regret not having her around if things get too rough. She's got brute force and passable skill, and everything we’ve seen so far indicates this necromancer is bad news.” I shot a rather pointed glare Strumming’s way and added, “And as far as I know she’s not a warlock, so don’t get any ideas.”
Strumming held up her hooves in surrender, hovering off the ground. “Okay, okay, gotcha. No happy-fun-murder-time for her. Sheesh, you give me no joy...”
I scoffed and ignored her. Pushing her would just lead to more deflections and weird whimsical comments, and now really wasn’t the time for this conversation anyway. Not with dozens of gleaming metallic zombies slowly shambling towards us, eldritch green fire shining out of their mouths, eyes, and exposed ribs.
Starlight took the lead, lashing out with one of her completely unsophisticated blasts of pure kinetic force. It got the job done, albeit rather crudely, as it tore one of the approaching zombies to pieces.
Well, time to show her how an actual magus does things. Fire was out for the moment—we were outside of the area I’d prepared, but it still might spread to the rest of commune’s crops or accidently set off my trap early. Why risk having a freak accident ruin all my hard work?
Thankfully, unlike a certain dropout from Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns who only used brute force spells, I had range. I opened up with a thin sheet of ice that cleanly bisected one of the oncoming zombies, then went outside my usual element with some electromagnetism. It took a lot more effort and concentration than my usual repertoire, but the results were worth it.
It started with a trio of zombies slowly leaning closer to each other. Once I’d confirmed that the spell would actually work, I upped the charge. That sent the two zombies flying through the air to collide with the one I’d magnetized, turning all three into one huge tangled cluster of limbs. Starlight surprised me by actually recognizing the opportunity I’d created, and blasting all three of them to pieces with her next attack.
Unfortunately, there were more where those three came from. A lot more. There were dozens of eerie green lights advancing towards us, and those were just the ones we could see. Starlight shot a nervous look my way. “That’s a lot more than we’ve seen before. I think we need to start falling back now.”
Considering the numbers, I was inclined to agree. There was a fine line between drawing them into the trap and letting them swarm all over us. If we let ourselves get cut off and surrounded, the plan would go out the window to the point that we’d be lucky to make it out alive. “Yeah, fall back. Not too quick, or whoever’s the brains behind these guys might get suspicious. We need to make it look like we’re actually trying.” I suited action to words by bisecting another zombie with a concentrated light blast. Starlight flinched just a little bit, since that was the same spell I’d used to put a hole through her horn when we’d fought.
Strumming threw out several darts, only to let out a frustrated grumble when none of them accomplished anything. “Blarg, it’s hard to get one of my darts through those steel skulls. Managed to get one of them through the eye socket, but otherwise...”
“Forget it,” Starlight snapped, lashing out with another kinetic blast. “We have this, you just watch our backs.”
Strumming shot off a cheeky salute. “Can do!” She spread her wings and took off. A couple seconds later she called down. “Move your butts! They’re trying to flank you!”
She certainly didn’t need to tell me twice. Starlight and I both fast-trotted back towards the field we’d set up, alternating with one of us pulling back while the other fired off a couple spells to keep the horde from closing in on us too quickly. Pretty soon we were back amongst the dried out sorghum stalks. They weren’t quite as dry as I would’ve liked, but considering the time limit I’d done a pretty good job.
We quickly fell back to the middle of the field, watching as the zombies slowly converged on our position. My eyes flicked back to Starlight. “Well, looks like part one of our plan worked. You ready for us to do something completely crazy?”
“I’m still not convinced that this is a good idea,” Starlight grumbled.
“Too late to back out now!” I grinned madly from the sheer adrenaline rush of what I was about to do. “Good luck!” I teleported away, leaving her all on her own to face the horde of zombies slowly closing the circle around her.
Starlight played her part to perfection, lashing out several more kinetic blasts. “Hey! You all looking for me?! Well here I am!” As the zombies closed in too thick for her blasts to do any good, she hastily threw up a shield spell to protect herself.
I looked up, and confirmed that Strumming had already started her part of the plan. A single pegasus couldn’t whip up nearly as much of a windstorm as I would’ve liked, but it’s not like I had a full team of weather ponies at my disposal. And even if I did, they’d probably stand out too much and give away what I was planning.
“I hope this works...” I closed my eyes and unleashed the fire.
The dried out sorghum field provided ample fuel, especially since I’d also scattered all the scrap wood and any other flammable trash through it. With the wind Strumming was whipping up to power the flames forward, it didn’t take long for the fire to escalate far beyond anything even I could hope to control.
The entire field lit up painfully bright, and got brighter and brighter for a few seconds as everything caught and flared at once, the shockwave of hot air hitting me like a gust in the middle of a thunderstorm. The zombies were just a jumble of dots in the great menagerie, and didn’t really stand out until the initial blaze died down. Unlike sapient beings, who would (vainly) try to stop, drop, and roll or else run for water when they felt themselves ignite, the undead horde kept trotting towards us until they collapsed on themselves like so many sticks of incense in a fireplace.
The fire burned so hot that it used its fuel pretty quickly, and before long the flames started dying down. Starlight’s shield dome was still in place, but I couldn’t see any zombies around it. Or much of anything, beyond fire, ash, and smoke.
I signalled Strumming, and she stopped stirring up the wind and grabbed a couple rain clouds we’d left on standby. She gave them a quick kick, and they started pouring down over the blasted remnants of the crop field. The fire wasn’t burning hot enough to be a threat to the zombies anymore, and there was no sense letting it spread and do more damage to the commune’s crops.
Once the fires died down to the point where I didn’t feel like I was standing next to an open oven, I allowed myself a little cautious optimism. “I think we're clear for the moment. You can drop the shield, Starlight.”
The dome slowly faded away, revealing a sweat-soaked and haggard-looking Starlight Glimmer. She warily looked around, her eyes resting on the half-melted, twisted remnant of the zombies that had surrounded her shield. “Looks like we got them.”
“Most of them, at least.” If the necromancer we were up against had half a brain, they would’ve kept some back as a reserve, not to mention there were probably a few stragglers. Still, we’d put a big dent in the enemy forces, and the bad guy would probably play it cautious for a bit to make sure we didn’t have any more nasty surprises. Which, unfortunately, we didn’t. “We’ve used up our ace in the hole, so I sure hope it was worth it.”
“We'll find out soon enough,” Starlight grunted out. “And if you made me go through that for nothing, we’re going to have a conversation you won’t enjoy. Assuming we’re in any condition to have a conversation about anything.”
“Yeah, all things considered if my biggest problem is listening to you whine about how hot it was inside your shield bubble, I’m gonna count this as a win.” I rather doubted thing were going to be that easy. It couldn’t be as simple as leading the zombies into a nice big fire pit, then burning them all to bits with a single spell.
We trudged through rain, making our way back towards the village proper. It was a pretty long walk, since a certain equality-obsessed unicorn insisted I burn the far field instead of something a bit closer. It didn’t help that now everything smelled like burned, wet zombie. Unsurprisingly, that was the sort of smell that made me glad I hadn’t had anything to eat since the stew Equal had given me for lunch.
We’d almost made it back to safety when we heard something come shrieking through the air. I whirled to face whatever was coming for us. A multicolored blur shot through the night sky, passing over our heads.
Starlight blinked in shock. “What in the world is—”
The blur slammed into the earth in front of us, cutting off our route to the wall. Now that it had stopped moving, I could finally get a good look at what we were dealing with: the dust settled to reveal a shining silver skeleton that had just enough strips of shriveled flesh attached to it to set my stomach turning. The few blue scraps of coat were mostly hidden by the tattered remains of some make of armor I didn’t recognize, and gleaming metal wings flared out its back, looking a bit like somepony had glued a set of chicken wings to a pony’s skeleton—though the joints at the shoulders showed that this … thing, whatever it was, used to be a pegasus. Fuchsia pinpricks glared back and forth between both of us through the vestiges of a prismatic mane. The revenant turned to my temporary ally, her eyes narrowing as a raspy growl echoed out of her shriveled throat. “You're gonna die, Starlight Glimmer.”
Starlight glowered at the beast, planting her hooves defiantly. “Sorry, I don’t have time to die tonight. I'm too busy.”
The revenant rushed forward with a snarl. I hurled a fireball at it, but the monster easily rolled to the side to dodge my attack, closing in on Starlight. She fared a bit better, quickly reestablishing her dome shield to hold the revenant off. The monster’s hooves slammed into the barrier with a sound like somepony dragging their hooves down a chalkboard, making me wince and throwing off my aim for my next attack.
With the revenant’s forward momentum gone lost for the moment, Starlight dropped her shield with a triumphant grin. “Hah! Dodge this!”
Starlight fired off a kinetic blast at point blank range. For a moment I was sure it would hit, until the revenant somehow managed to make a perfect ninety degree turn and accelerate away far faster than should’ve been physically possible. After the attack shot by the revenant, it paused for a moment, and while the shrivelled lips made it hard to tell, I could swear the thing was grinning cockily. “Okay. What else you got?”
The thing rushed forward again before Starlight could get her shield back up, slamming into her and wrapping its forelegs around her. Then its metallic wings began pumping furiously, hauling both of them up into the air.
With an extra pony weighing it down the creature was slow enough that I should be able to land a hit. The problem was that with her hanging onto Starlight there was no way to be sure I’d only hit the revenant. While Starlight wasn’t my favorite pony in the world, I didn’t hate her enough to be okay with turning her into collateral damage.
Starlight yelped out in shock as the revenant hauled her skywards. She squirmed and struggled against the revenant’s unnatural strength, and while she couldn’t get herself free, she did manage to line her horn up with the thing’s face. Then she did something more than a little insane, unleashing a point-blank kinetic blast.
The revenant had been ridiculously fast, but even it couldn’t dodge a shot from that close, it lost its grip on Starlight, spiralling away through the air.
That just left Starlight with the slight problem of being way too high up in the air. If I’d been up in the air I could’ve conjured up some ice wings, but as far as I knew Starlight didn’t have any spells like that. For all her raw power, I hadn’t seen much in the way of magical range from her; just shields, kinetic blasts, and basic spells like telekinesis.
Starlight’s horn lit up, and a second later she started glowing. It didn’t stop her from falling, but it did reduce her momentum a bit. I threw together a quick ice ramp to try and help her out. That should let her bleed off enough momentum so that she wouldn’t turn into a pony-shaped pancake when she reached the ground.
By the time Starlight arrived more-or-less intact on the ground, the revenant was coming for another pass. Starlight’s blast had ripped most of the skin off its face, leaving nothing but a grinning metal skull. Nasty as the injury looked, it didn’t seem to have slowed the monster down at all. “You’re going down, Starlight!”
“Oh, buzz off already!” Starlight shouted up at the creature. Next thing I knew she was tearing my ice ramp to pieces, setting the chunks of ice whirling around her in an improvised shield. As the revenant closed in on her she fired off a blast, shattering the block of ice into thousands of razor-sharp shards and hurtling them towards the monster.
It was a good idea, but the undead pegasus was just too quick. It must have been using its undead anatomy to its advantage, because no living pony could make such sharp turns without blacking out from the g-forces involved. Undead don’t really need to worry about things like cerebral hypoxia, considering their blood usually doesn’t flow at all.
The revenant shot through Starlight’s defenses with another couple quick turns, closing in on her. “You killed my friends!” the monster roared. “They’re all gone because of you!” It slammed a hoof right between Starlight’s eyes, and the unicorn collapsed bonelessly to the ground.
The revenant's momentum carried it past Starlight, but it quickly swung around for another pass. I quickly jumped in before it could finish her off, conjuring up a dome of ice over the downed mare. The monster whirled to face me, glaring with a mix of fury and incredulity. “Hey! You stay outta this!”
It came charging towards me, but I was ready for it. I threw up a huge sheet of fire around myself, leaving no way for the revenant to get through unscathed.
What I didn’t expect was for the revenant to just come charging straight through the wall of fire I’d set up. Once again, I hadn’t accounted for just how fast the thing was. The revenant’s mane and tail burned away and several patches of it’s withered skin melted, but it got through without any major structural damage. It lowered a shoulder and slammed right into my armored chest, bowling me over onto my back.
I tried to get back up, only to feel its hooves grab my shoulders and force me back down. The revenant glared at me, its fuschia eyes shining with eldritch light. “I said stay outta my way! You’re not Starlight, but if you get between her and me I’ll make you pay.”
I was about to try teleporting away to buy some space and time when the revenant just let me go and flew away. I suppose it shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did: revenants were usually out for revenge against a specific target. Considering the way the revenant kept going on about how Starlight had killed her friends, it wasn’t hard to guess who the target was. Since I wasn’t on the target list, it pretty much didn’t care about me.
Well, that at least confirmed what I’d suspected: Starlight was the target. Or at the very least, whoever was controlling all these undead had cut a deal with this revenant that had a grudge against Starlight. I definitely wanted to know more about how Starlight had supposedly killed the revenant’s friends, since Puzzle hadn’t mentioned Starlight going on a killing spree. Unfortunately, the revenge-crazed undead monster probably wouldn’t be willing to stop fighting and explain its reasons.
This did prompt my inner Puzzle Piece to point out a couple facts. If the revenant was that focused on Starlight, it probably wouldn’t care about what I did as long as I didn’t interfere with its goal. I could easily get back behind the town walls and support the rest of the defenders. Yeah, that would mean leaving Starlight all on her own, but ... well it’s not like I had any compelling reason to put my life on the line to protect her. For all I knew, the revenant might have a completely legitimate reason to want her dead. Maybe Starlight really had killed it and all its friends, and it was out for righteous revenge.
On the other hoof, that was a pretty big ‘maybe’. If Puzzle really was keeping a close eye on Starlight, there was no way he’d miss something like her going on a murder spree. Maybe the revenant was just a crazy undead monster with an irrational fixation on Starlight. It’s not like a necromancer putting together an army of undead minions would have any qualms about lying to a revenant to secure its loyalty.
Bottom line, I wasn’t going to throw Starlight to a bunch of creepy undead monsters. Not unless I got something a lot more convincing than one revenant doing a little insane ranting. Though I probably should time my next move carefully—if the revenant was willing to ignore me so long as I wasn’t a threat to its goal, then I should use that to make sure that my next move counted. No sense wasting time and energy throwing out more fireballs that almost certainly wouldn’t hit considering how fast that thing could dodge.
I shook my head and got my mind back in the game. Starlight was blasting away at the revenant, which was easily dodging her attacks. I was a little surprised the creature wasn’t pressing the offensive, but maybe it wanted to let her wear herself out for a bit. After all, undead don’t get tired like living ponies.
After several more failed attacks, Starlight screamed in frustration. “Okay, that’s it! I’ve had bucking enough of you!” She threw another shield over herself, then grunted with effort as her horn started blazing. After a couple seconds one of the nearby houses let out a groan of protest, then slowly ripped itself apart, the chunks of debris flying over to circle around Starlight in deadly whirling shield. She grinned savagely, speeding up the debris so that not even the revenant’s unnatural speed would be enough to get through. “Bring it!”
The revenant scoffed. “Consider it brought.” It zipped down at her, but instead of trying to break through the barrier it started circling around her in a prismatic blur. The thing had a lot more wingpower than Strumming, and pretty soon it had whipped up a windstorm that put the one Strumming produced to shame.
Starlight blinked as she realized she was about to be in the center of a tornado and quickly shifted tactics. Instead of keeping the debris around herself, she hurled it all into the tornado, blasting several of the larger chunks to turn them into deadly shrapnel.
Even the revenant’s speed and reflexes weren’t enough to handle that, and a particularly large chunk of log smacked it out of the air. The impact left one of its hind legs bent at an unnatural angle, but considering the thing hadn’t touched the ground once since the fight started I wasn’t going to count that as much of an advantage. Starlight seemed to enjoy her little victory though, laughing mockingly. “What’s the matter, was that too much for you? ‘Cause I can go a little easier on you if you can’t handle it.”
“You’d already be dead if Sunset hadn’t butted in!” the revenant snapped back. I was briefly curious about how it knew my name, but it had probably just heard someone say it during the battle. The creature shot up into the sky, grabbing several of the clouds Strumming had left behind. “Eat this!” It slammed its hooves into the clouds, firing off a pair of lightning bolts.
Starlight still had her shield up to catch the lightning bolts, but she let out a grunt when they hit and I noticed sweat on her brow. I was also willing to bet that she was hurting from the hits the revenant had landed on her, even if she was trying not to show it. She snarled and glared furiously up at the undead pegasus. “I knew you'd chicken out!” With an enraged scream, she hurled the remains of the house up at the revenant, but none of the big, slow-moving chunks even came close to hitting.
I frowned and carefully approached as close as I could without putting myself in danger. “Starlight, I think we need something it can’t dodge.”
“What do you think I've been trying?!” Starlight snapped at me. “I just tossed a house at her! If you’ve got any bright ideas, do something!”
I grunted and nodded, since she had a point. I thought back to the fight with the zombies, and took advantage of the fact that the revenant wasn’t focused on me to pull together another electromagnetism spell. If I could stick its wings together magnetically, the thing would be a lot less dangerous.
That plan ran into a snag pretty quickly—unlike the zombies, the revenant’s metal bits didn’t have any iron or other magnetic metals in them. I guess the necromancer had the resources to buy something a bit fancier for his elite heavy hitter. Probably mithril, considering how fast the thing was moving.
The revenant didn’t even notice my attempt to attack it, staying completely focused on Starlight. Instead it dodged past Starlight’s attempts to swat it out of the sky, pausing between dives to let out a loud yawn. “Face it, you're just too slow.” It stopped toying with her, rushing forward with a metallic shriek from its wings as it zoomed in for the kill.
Starlight eyes flicked down to the ground, and she ripped up a wall of dirt to block the revenant’s attack. The instant I realized what she was doing I knew she’d messed up, and unfortunately the revenant spotted it too. It easily zipped over and around the physical barrier, then slammed into Starlight from behind, sending her flying back into the very wall she’d built. I heard something crack when she hit, and Starlight shrieked in pain. The revenant chuckled and shook its head. “Wow, lame. Are you even trying, or did you just decide to give up?”
I’d been hoping to hold back until I could land a decisive hit, but that plan was obviously out the window. Instead, I threw another shield over Starlight to buy her a bit of time to recover. As expected, the revenant immediately whirled around to face me again. “I said stay outta this! I swear, you interfere again and I’m gonna give you the same treatment she’s getting. Got it?” The undead shot up into the air, gathering up more lightning clouds.
Starlight groaned and struggled back to her hooves, wincing when she put weight on one of her forelegs. I dropped the shield I’d been holding over her to hopefully keep myself off the revenant’s list, and she quickly replaced it with one of her own. Sweat was pouring down her face, and she was keeping her wounded leg up in the air. “So, if you’ve got any brilliant plans, I’m all ears.”
I did have one plan, but I was pretty sure she wouldn’t like it. “You know how you managed to land a solid hit when she grabbed you?”
Starlight grunted and nodded. “Yeah, because she couldn't dodge at that range.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “She's too fast to hold off at long range; she’ll have enough time to dodge whatever you throw her way. But if you can get her point blank again...”
Starlight grimaced. “Easier said than done.”
I didn’t quite agree with her on that point, considering the revenant seemed to like getting in close to hit her. “You'll probably have to let her get close enough to land a couple hits,” I conceded. Considering how hard the monster could hit that wasn’t the best plan, but it’s not like what Starlight had been doing so far was working all that well. Trading punches with the revenant might be her best option, especially since Starlight could hit pretty hard.
Before we could put that plan into action, the revenant zipped across all the clouds it had gathered, unleashing a torrent of lightning bolts that came crashing down on Starlight. I quickly jumped into the air and grabbed some wooden debris to land on; I did not want to have my hooves in the rainwater from Strumming’s clouds when all that lightning hit.
Starlight’s shield held up against the assault, but I could see it buckling and crackling under the pressure. As the acrid stench of ozone hung in the air, Starlight sighed and nodded to me. “Right, your plan sucks, but I guess I’m going to have to give it a try.” She glared up defiantly at the revenant and shouted as loud as she could. “Come on! Is that all you got?! Just gonna sit back and let the clouds do all the hard work for you? Fight me like a mare, face-to-face!”
“Fine!” The revenant bellowed out, barreling down towards her at a speed that probably would’ve made any living pegasus black out. As she closed in Starlight tried to grab the incoming creature with her telekinesis. The spell was doomed to fail—using telekinesis against an unwilling pony never works due to our natural magical resistance—but it did break the momentum of her charge for a critical second. Not enough to stop her, but enough to ensure that she didn’t hit Starlight with bone-shattering force.
Instead, the revenant decided to repeat the same move it had used at the opening of the fight, grabbing her and hauling her skyward. This time, instead of trying to break loose Starlight grabbed onto the creature with her good leg. The revenant snorted when it realized what she was doing. “Guess you're tired of living, murderer.”
“First off, I really don’t know what you’re talking about, ‘cause I haven’t killed anyone,” Starlight replied. Then she grinned, lighting up her horn. “And second, there's a method to my madness.” She leveled her horn at the revenant’s chest.
With its face blasted away I couldn’t have seen any expression on the undead creature, but I definitely heard the panic in its voice. “Oh, horseapples!” It reversed course, dive-bombing towards the ground at maximum speed.
Whatever its plan was, it didn’t pull it off in time. Starlight unleashed her kinetic blast right into the revenant’s chest, ripping it to pieces. The point-blank blast sent her flying back, and this time I didn’t see her horn lighting up to try and stop her fall. I threw together another ice ramp to catch her, but this time she was falling a lot faster and wasn’t helping me out. When she hit the ground, it was hard enough to make me wince. She didn’t get back up.
I rushed over, throwing a basic diagnostic spell her way. I was a long way from an expert in medical magic, but I knew enough to do basic first aid. The spell at least confirmed that she’d survived, though the list of abrasions, contusions, cracked or broken bones, and other miscellaneous injuries was long enough to tell me she had a long hospital stay to look forward to. Assuming shock or some other complication from her numerous injuries didn’t kill her before we got her to a hospital.
I was still checking her injuries when I felt it. Some sixth sense I must have acquired during all the battles I’d been in since moving to Freeport made my muscles tense up, and a second later I saw the flicker of green light approaching. This wasn’t another one of the zombies, though.
For starters, it was big. Celestia-sized, maybe even bigger. The comparison to Celestia was pretty apt, because the thing had both a horn and a huge set of membranous wings with exposed metal where the bones would normally be. Its ribcage was completely open, showing a mass of eldritch green light where the organs ought to be, and its face was a similarly exposed skull with green fire pouring out of its eye sockets and mouth. I couldn’t tell if it was wearing armor, or if the metal was all part of its skeletal structure.
I squared my shoulders and turned to face what could only be the necromancer behind the undead army. “I am Magus Sunset Shimmer. In the name of Freeport and Council, you are under arrest for necromancy, attempted murder, and a whole bunch of other crimes.”
The necromancer chuckled, its jaw bobbing up and down. “Is that so? Well, in that case introductions are in order: I am Magus Rising Fire of Equestria’s Sombra Resistance Army. In the name of a murdered world and millions of innocents annihilated by her actions, I am placing Starlight Glimmer under arrest.”
“What?” I asked dully, trying to process what the necromancer had just said. Sombra Resistance Army? Murdered world? Millions dead? Not to mention that a necromancer was running around claiming to be an Equestrian magus. There was only one logical conclusion. “You’re nuts.”
Rising Fire chuckled. “Oh, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you would think so. How could you not? But no, if there’s any madness to be found, it’s in the world itself, not me. But is it really insanity to see the world clearly and act upon that knowledge? Because if there’s any madness at all, it’s in the world I come from. The world Starlight Glimmer destroyed.”
Oh good, this bad guy (or girl, it was hard to tell) was a talkative maniacal necromancer. Might as well let him/her/it keep on talking, then. Maybe Rising would give away something useful, and even if it didn’t, that would buy me time to catch my breath after the fight with the revenant, and maybe get a little backup from Puzzle and Strumming. “Again with the destroyed world stuff. I’m not going to say I’ve had my friends watching Starlight every moment of the day, but I think they’d have a hard time missing her going on a huge killing spree.”
“She didn’t do it on her own,” Rising answered, the lich’s voice surprisingly calm. I guess crazy undead lunatics appreciate having someone who’s at least willing to hear out their delusions. “Twilight Sparkle helped her.”
Twilight Sparkle? Never heard of her. “Still doesn’t answer the whole ‘how did we miss millions of deaths?’ question.”
Rising lifted one of its hooves, idly inspecting it. “Well I suppose that would be that because, from your perspective, they haven’t happened yet.”
“What, is it some kind of prophecy?” That didn’t really line up with the way revenant was on a vengeance rampage against Starlight, but I couldn’t see any other explanation. “You do know how incredibly unreliable prophecies can be, right? Ninety nine percent of the time they lack some important context information, or they’re ambiguous enough to mean the exact opposite of what you think they do. Odds are Starlight isn’t going to do whatever it is you think she’s going to do, and whatever you’re afraid of will never happen.”
The subdued green fire wreathing Rising’s body flared up, almost engulfing the necromancer. Its voice came out as a deep-throated roar. “No! Don’t tell me it won’t happen! I was there! I saw it happen!” Rising stomped forward, and I nearly threw a spell at it in self-defense before it stopped. However, the lich paused, and after several seconds eldritch flames faded back behind its steel bones. When it spoke, its voice was once more cold and almost subdued. “You have no idea what we suffered. The war against Sombra consumed all of Equestria. You cannot conceive of the scale of it. The Lunar Rebellion, the Morning Wars, they were skirmishes compared to the great war against the revived Crystal Empire.”
Rising started pacing back and forth, its voice rising as it hooves gestured grandly. “You have no idea what sacrifices we made to hold back the Crystal Empire. Sombra would stop at nothing to see us all subjugated, turned into nothing but more mindless slaves to serve his boundless ambitions. Any sacrifice was worthwhile in pursuit of victory. When Sombra unleashed his crystal golems and shadow demons on Vanhoover, the 17th Trottingham Company was all that stood between them and the city. It took three days to get all the civilians out, and for three days the Trottinghammers halted the enemy at Galloping Gorge. None of them made it back, and nobody but the enemy witnessed their sacrifice, but they held the line.”
One of Rising’s hooves slammed down on the ground. “But that was nothing compared to the Battle of Fillydelphia. Sombra’s brought the full might of his army down upon the city. The battle itself lasted over five months, and our army suffered over a million casualties. But in the end the city was ours, and Sombra lost as much as we had. Which is more than I can say for the siege of Manehattan. The city held out for over two years, but by the time we relieved them only twenty percent of the population was left. Some of them got away on boats, or snuck out. Some of them. Can you even conceive of warfare conducted upon such a grand scale?”
I had to admit, the numbers Rising was coming up with sounded ... insane. Maybe theoretically possible if Equestria was in an all-out war for survival, but it was right—I just couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of a war that huge. He was talking about more ponies dying in a single battle than had died in entire wars in the past. Those kind of numbers just couldn’t happen.
But still, the way Rising was talking about it all sounded too earnest to be made up. Not that it made it any less likely the lich was just a crazy pony who believed their own insanity. After all, one of the defining traits of a lunatic was that they couldn’t tell the difference between fantasy and reality.
“Now...” Rising lifted its forelegs to the sky. “Let us imagine an outsider comes to our Equestria. They see all that we have built, everything we’ve sacrificed to preserve. The cities and ponies countless heroes laid down their lives to protect. And this pony who knows almost nothing of us and our lives decides ... that our world is unworthy of existence. That it is a failed timeline, suited only to be destroyed so she that might make one that she preferred.”
“Failed timeline...” The pieces came together. “Wait, are you saying there was some sort of time travel involved? That Starlight Glimmer changed the past? That’s impossible. Starswirl’s third law of temporal mechanics states that—”
“Starswirl,” Rising growled, “did not have all the facts. Apparently Starlight and her co-conspirator found some means of breaking that law. I’m afraid I don’t know the details—I was somewhat preoccupied trying to save Equestria from enslavement. We didn’t even know what happened until our whole world started ... breaking.”
“Breaking?” I didn’t buy a word of his explanation, but I’d read enough fiction to guess what direction his story was going in. “So what, after Starlight and Twinkle went back in time and changed your past, your whole world just ... vanished?”
“Not overnight, and nowhere near so cleanly as that.” Rising took a threatening step towards Starlight, but stopped when I deliberately put myself in its path. “The annihilation of an entire world is a slow process. Time itself shatters slowly. It began with little things. Clocks always seemed to be off, one pony would say something had taken five minutes, another fifteen. The sort of things one could dismiss as the usual accidents of perception.”
Rising shook its head. “Eventually, the truth became plain. The anomalies grew too great to ignore. Instead of a few lost minutes it became hours or days. It could be day in one part of Canterlot and night in another. And then it grew worse. Dinner could spoil in the time it took to move it from the kitchen to the table. Children could age a year in the course of night’s sleep. Or time could move in the other direction. Sometimes children would vanish completely their parents would forget they existed. They were the lucky ones. Ponies long dead returned to life, as well as some that had never existed. And now, they will never exist. Their future was destroyed before it was even born.”
Rising turned its back on me, staring up at the stars. “We tried to fix it, of course. How could we not? Princess Celestia herself lead the effort. However, the scope of the problem was beyond anything we could hope to understand or control. You could say that we saved our world, in a manner of speaking. It still physically exists. I have walked across the Dead Sea, where the waves themselves remain locked in place, frozen in time for all eternity. Seen the wastelands that were once the Crystal Empire, stood and watched as millions of years passed in an instant, grinding the mountains themselves to dust.”
“Doesn’t exactly sound like the healthiest environment,” I pointed out, seeing a potential hole in the story. “How did you survive?”
Rising held up one of its metallic limbs and chuckled bitterly. “Did you think I looked like this before the world went mad? No, once I was an ordinary pony, much like you. When we tried to avert the catastrophe and the spell turned against us, Celestia protected me against the spell’s backlash. She too passed, but not before helping me find what I needed to preserve my own existence. I, naturally, expanded upon that work. When time itself is meaningless and one’s body no longer requires rest or sustenance, you would be surprised just how much you can learn. Eventually I even restored a few of the lost. Most were nothing but empty shells, but a special few lingered on more strongly.” Rising’s eyes flicked to the revenant’s remains, and in a flash of green flame they vanished. “I will restore Rainbow once our business here is finished.”
I had a pretty good guess what that business was. “So, you want to arrest Starlight for time traveling.” I frowned, thought over exactly what Rising had said, the corrected myself. “Because she will time travel in the future. You said she hadn’t done it yet.”
Rising shrugged. “Considering the difficulty of finding my way to your plane of existence, I think I did rather well arriving at a point in time where she was alive at all. If arresting her before she commits the crime can undo the damage she caused, then I will happily do so despite the fact that one could argue this particular Starlight is technically innocent. And if not ... a world has died. There must be justice for that.”
I frowned and planted my hooves. “You know I’m not letting you take her.” For starters, the story was way too crazy for me to take it at face value. And even if I did believe it, I didn’t exactly like the idea of letting him arrest and presumably execute someone even he admitted hadn’t done anything wrong. Maybe Starlight would do all that stuff at some point in the future, but that was a pretty big maybe. Especially since having an alleged time traveller show up and go on about the horrible things that happened you did in the future would be the kind of thing that might make somepony rethink their life choices. Though if that happened, then would Rising still time travel back here to...?
Ugh. No wonder Starswirl’s third law of temporal mechanics was so entrenched. If you threw it out and opened up the possibility that ponies actually could change the past, then everything started getting crazy and terrifying. If Rising was telling the truth, then ponies were capable of screwing around with time and doing so could set off an unimaginably horrible apocalypse. Compared to that, I much prefered to believe that Starswirl’s third law still functioned, any attempt at time travel created a neat little closed time loop, and Rising was just insane.
Rising sighed and shook its head. “I had hoped you would stand aside ... but in all honesty, I’m not surprised you won’t. I should’ve expected it, all things considered. So be it. Though be warned: getting Starlight means everything to me. How much does she mean to you?”
I frowned and shook my head. “It's not just about that. This is also about doing the right thing. Even if I believed that what you're saying is true, you admitted that hurting Starlight might not even fix anything.” I glared up at Rising, pawing at the ground. “And if all you wanted to do was arrest Starlight, then you sure picked a strange way to go about it. You’ve attacked a bunch of innocent ponies who didn’t have anything to do with this, and don’t even know why you sicced a bunch of zombies on them. How is that right?”
Rising drew itself up to its full and rather intimidating height. “They stood between me and my goal. Much like you are now. Move, or you will be moved. Last chance.”
I grinned, already planning out the first moves of the fight. “Sorry, but I’ve never liked it when people try to threaten me. And honestly, your attitude’s kinda pissing me off now.”
Rising sighed, its head hanging. “Then it seems you leave me no choice.”
An instant later Rising’s eyes fixed on mine and its horn lit up with a sickly green glow that matched the flames within its body. Those flames flared up and then hurtled towards me, withering the grass beneath them as they came.
I could’ve blocked the attack, but there was no reason to resort to a brute force slugging match when there were better options. Instead I teleported out of the attack’s path—a far better use of energy, and it put me in a good position to counterattack. For lack of any better idea, I decided to fight fire with fire. I was a pyromancer, after all.
Rising’s response caught me by surprise. I would’ve expected a shield spell of some sort, either outright blocking or at least deflecting my spell. Instead, he met my fireball with a huge chunk of black ice, cancelling it out.
I blinked in surprise—it was pretty rare to see anyone skilled with both pyromancy and cryomancy. However, I still had an advantage in both fields—mastery of the unique combat style invented by Sunbeam Sparkle which fully integrated the two types of magic with near perfect efficiency. I created a fireball by concentrating a bunch of heat into a single point, then used the absence of heat to fuel an ice spell. Done right, I could pretty much cast two spells for the price of one. Less than a dozen ponies had mastered the style since Sunbeam invented it, and as far as I knew, I was the only living practitioner.
Which was why it came as an immense surprise when Rising met my blast of ice shards with a wave of green flame, perfectly blocking and countering my spell. I opened up full bore, hurling fire and ice in successive waves at the necromancer, but every spell was perfectly met and countered by the opposing element. Which was supposed to be impossible—there was really only one explanation for how Rising could match the speed and efficiency of my spellcasting. “How the hay did you learn Sunbeam’s style?!”
“I could ask you the same question,” Rising shot back calmly as my latest fireball met a shield of black ice, which led smoothly into a column of green flame headed straight for my face, which I just as easily blocked with an ice spell of my own. “Sunbeam Sparkle guarded her secrets as much as any magus, and that style was how she became the greatest pyromancer Equestria has ever known.”
“It’s been more than eight hundred years since she was around,” I shot back. “With all the magical developments since then it was inevitable somepony like me would eclipse her.”
“You arrogant little child,” Rising scoffed, drawing itself up to its full height as it hurled a particularly large and nasty fireball my way. “Your claim to being a magus at all is dubious at best, and yet you claim to be better than the likes of Star Swirl the Bearded and Sunbeam Sparkle? The foolishness of youth.”
While I would never admit it, I was starting to get worried about the evocation slugging match I’d gotten myself into. Dual-element evocation might be magically efficient, but it was mentally exhausting. Considering the duel was at a complete stalemate and the undead lich would have an advantage in pure contest of endurance, I needed to change tactics if I actually wanted to win this thing. I reached down into the earth, pulling up a thick wall of solid rock between the two of us. That should buy me a little breathing room, and with my defenses taken care of for now I could shift back to full offense once I’d decided on a new angle of attack.
“Earth magic?” Rising rumbled out. “An interesting choice. It seems you haven’t fully mastered Sunbeam’s style after all.” I could practically hear the malicious grin on the lich’s skull as it announced, “Fortunately, I have.”
Rising’s horn lit up, and I saw something I’d only read a few vague descriptions of in the memoirs of long-dead ponies. Rising tapped into the roiling mass of hot and cold air our spells had created, stirring around and exciting it until a new sort of energy started building up. Electricity. That particular little trick was something only Sunbeam Sparkle had ever mastered; the one time I’d tried it all I got for my trouble was my mane standing on end and Celestia joking about how much she loved my new hairstyle.
Rising, on the other hoof, knew exactly what it was doing. I managed to expand the rock wall into a dome just before the first lightning bolt hit, but the effort left me with a nasty headache. Not to mention I hadn’t exactly improved my situation: I was trapped inside my rock dome like a tortoise that had pulled everything into its shell. I might be alive for now, but I didn’t have much in the way of options as long as I stayed in here. I certainly wasn’t going to win a magic duel by hiding away from my opponent.
Rising wasted no time pointing out another flaw in my choice of tactic. “Does that mean you forfeit? In that case, I thank you for standing aside and ending this pointless battle. I will collect Starlight and be on my way.”
Dammit. I knew he was probably saying that to bait me out, but it was good bait. If my goal was to keep Starlight away from the crazy lich, I had to jump out and fight him. And, unfortunately, I was kinda committed to the battle now. I concentrated and teleported out of my safe little rock shell, placing myself between Rising and Starlight. “Sorry, not out of this yet.”
I knew just slugging away at Rising with evocation wasn’t going to work, so it was time for a change of pace. I threw a large wave of ice shards at the necromancer as much to block its vision for a moment as anything, then followed it up by pulling out some fire gems from my saddlebag. I threw the gems in right behind my shards: with any luck Rising wouldn’t expect the attack since it wouldn’t detect a second spell coming from me, and I could catch it off guard.
Sure enough, Rising went with a fire shield that nicely intercepted the ice shards, but was just about useless against a bunch of fire gems. For a second I thought I had the warlock dead to rights, but then Rising pulled out another surprise and teleported away. Not some sort of medium-based trick like shadow-jumping, pure teleportation.
What the hay?! I was the only one Celestia had ever taught that spell to! That didn’t make any sense at all unless Rising was...
I shook my head and put the question aside. I did not have time to worry about how Rising could possibly know certain spells when we were in the middle of a fight. Just had to adapt and deal with it. I quickly spun around, keeping my eyes open and a shield spell ready to cast—I’d certainly used teleportation to strike from an unexpected angle before, and if Rising knew how to do it, the lich would probably think of the same thing.
I didn’t spot the lich before the area was suddenly engulfed in total darkness. I knew that could only mean a spell, and probably Rising setting up something nasty for me. Whatever it was, I didn’t want any part of it. I quickly teleported out of the area before I could get hit with whatever Rising was planning.
Once I landed in a rather unpleasantly soggy section of farmland, I finally spotted the warlock. Rising’s freakish wings were apparently functional, since the lich was hovering over the battlefield. More worryingly, the reason I spotted it so quickly was the the necromancer had a small but blindingly bright ball of light in its hooves. I recognized another trick I’d used before—it was a variant on the spell I’d used to beat Starlight when we’d fought. Had Rising been watching that battle? The thing did have some sort of weird fixation on Starlight, and if it had seen me fight that might explain a few things.
Rising’s hooves snapped forwards, and the ball shot out towards its target. Not me this time, but Starlight, who was in no condition to dodge or shield herself.
That left me with only one option: I teleported over to Starlight’s side and threw up a large shield spell to keep both of us safe. A second later the light blast hit, hammering my defences as I instinctively shut my eyes. The last thing I needed was to go blind.
I managed to block the attack, but my knees trembled and I felt a nasty twinge at the base of my horn. Before I could prepare a counterattack another spell slammed into my shield. Then another, and another.
Oh horseapples. Rising had broken out one of my favorite tricks to use in a magic battle, using the efficiency of the pyro/cryo combat style to just hammer through an opponent’s defenses. It took less energy for Rising to keep up the offensive than for me to block every single attack, so it was just a matter of time before Rising smashed through.
My first instinct was to teleport away, but I was standing right over Starlight. If I moved, she’d be fried by Rising’s next attack. I could take her with me, but I’d never tandem teleported with another pony under combat conditions. I knew the theory behind it and I’d done it a couple times with Celestia watching to make sure I got it right, but even that practice had been with inanimate test objects, not a living pony. Trying to port myself and Starlight away while also keeping a shield up was ... maybe not impossible, but I didn’t like our odds. Even if I pulled it off, there was a nasty risk of some sort of error with the spell. I did not want to accidently leave one of my legs behind. Or Starlight’s, I guess.
Of course, the alternative was to just sit here helplessly and wait for death, which wasn’t exactly an improvement. A high risk of death or injury for one of us was still a step up from the certainty of death we both faced if I didn’t take a chance on teleporting.
Just when I was really hoping a good distraction might come along, Strumming delivered. A cold-iron dart shot out of one of the rainclouds, clanging off Rising’s metal-covered horn. “Hey! Big, ugly, and flaming! Why don’t you pick on someone even uglier than you are? You might have to spend a couple years looking. I can’t even tell if you’re a boy or a girl.”
The dart didn’t do any actual damage to Rising’s horn, but it did thoroughly break up the lich’s spellcasting momentum. I took advantage of the opening to grab Starlight and teleport both of us into one of the nearby homes. I would’ve preferred somewhere a bit further away from the battlefield, but I didn’t want to push my luck too much considering just how far out of my comfort zone tandem teleporting was. A quick check said that we’d arrived with all our body parts where they belonged, so at least I’d gotten that right.
I galloped back outside, just in time to spot some of Strumming’s throwing spikes clanging harmlessly off Rising’s metal bones and a fire gem briefly engulfing the lich in flames. When the fire faded, Rising seemed completely unharmed despite Strumming’s efforts. “That was a mistake,” it announced calmly.
The warlock’s horn lit up, and the air itself let out a nearly deafening shriek. Strumming let out a scream that the wind carried away almost before I could hear it, and the pegasus herself went hurtling away along with every cloud in the sky. I was just glad that Rising kept the spell off ground level, or it would be flattening trees and houses too.
I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity Strumming had put herself in danger to provide, so I quickly teleported to directly underneath the warlock. Rising didn’t seem to be aware of me, so I launched a spear of ice directly into the warlock’s belly. The attack struck with a nasty metallic wail, and the warlock jerked violently from the force of the impact.
For a second I hoped I’d actually managed to land a decisive blow. Then the warlock melted away my ice and twisted around a bit, getting everything lined back up. Rising’s body still didn’t look quite right. I couldn’t get a good enough look to say for sure what I’d done, but I was reasonably certain my attack had accomplished something more than just wasting time and energy.
Rising fluttered down and landed across from me, its hooves not quite resting properly on the ground. “You should have taken the chance to run,” the necromancer rumbled. “In the time your friend bought for you, you could have taken Starlight far enough away that I would need quite a while to find the both of you.”
I grinned, lowering my head to level my horn at the lich. “Sorry, but I don’t give in that easily.”
Rising chuckled and shook its head. “I really shouldn't be surprised.” There was a flash of green, and suddenly the warlock was entirely too close to me and swinging a steel-covered hoof at my face. I managed to duck low, but that left me vulnerable to a follow-up strike that thudded into my ribs. The armor took the worst of the blow, but it still knocked me off my hooves and knocked the breath out of my lungs.
I wanted to just lie down on the ground and try to catch my breath, but I knew Rising wouldn’t give me time for that. I rolled to the side just in time to avoid getting my chest stomped on, then quickly teleported away to the rock dome I’d abandoned earlier. I lay in the mud, gasping and groaning until my lungs remembered how to work. Judging by the dull ache that twinged a bit sharper when I took a deep breath, nothing was broken. Thank goodness for small favors.
The earth trembled, and with a low groan my rock dome tore itself apart. Rising strode forward, towering over me as I slowly picked myself up from the muddy hole I’d been hiding in. “Where did you hide Starlight?”
I scoffed. “You really think I'm just going to tell you that?”
“I like to believe in second chances,” the warlock quipped. “And I was hoping that if I asked, you might do something to give it away. One of the downsides of a mortal body is all those little quirks of body language that you can’t quite control.” The lich paused a moment, then added with deceptive calm. “Oh, and if you don't tell me I might just have to destroy the entire island to be safe.”
I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. “Horesapples. If you had enough power to blow up an entire island, we wouldn’t even be having this fight.”
Rising shrugged. “I wanted to spare the innocent if at all possible. Though I think you’re imagining things the wrong way. I wouldn’t destroy it outright with a single spell, but I could easily scourge the entire village, animate the inhabitants, and then set them all to tearing this island to pieces until I find the murderer you’re hiding from justice.”
“So you’ll murder an entire village of innocents just to get some cannon fodder?” I picked myself up, defiantly standing against the necromancer. “You have a pretty twisted idea of sparing innocent lives.”
Rising drew itself up to its full height. “Starlight’s crimes are too monstrous to be ignored. I do not wish to harm anyone other than her, but I cannot allow a few misguided souls to stand between me and justice. If a few innocents must die to avenge the murder of millions, then I will bear the burden of paying that price.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, and I'm pretty sure that once you start talking about how you’ll nobly sacrifice other people’s lives in the name of your cause, it means you’re off your rocker. You wanna go around believing you’re some kinda hero, then sacrifice your own damn life!”
Rising stared at me for several seconds, then flatly answered. “I'm sorry you feel that way.” A second later a massive column of green fire as thick as my leg shot out of the necromancer’s horn, headed straight for my chest.
Instead of trying to block the attack I teleported out of the way. The last thing I wanted to do was get into another evocation slugging match with a lich who could actually match—no, exceed my power and skill. Especially when I was still feeling light-headed and out of breath, either from the hit to my ribs or all the spells I’d been slinging. Probably both.
I had a lot more luck when I managed to hit Rising from an unexpected angle, so I tried that again. I teleported a couple more times to throw the lich off, then finally stopped right behind the warlock and launched dozens of razor-thin ice shards at its unprotected back.
The theory was good, but Rising must have guessed what I was up to, because at the last second the lich conjured a shield to deflect my attack. Without even turning around. “Predictable. Answer something for me, Sunset. Why? Why do you want to lay down your life to protect Starlight Glimmer?”
“Who said anything about laying down my life?” I started charging up a light spell, trying to hide it behind what was left of the rock dome I’d used for cover. A brief isolated little breeze ruffled my mane as I glared at the lich. “Personally, I plan to kick your butt, then go home and enjoy a well-deserved vacation.”
“Do you really think that’s likely?” Rising turned to face me, slowly stalking forward. “Spare me the bravado, Sunset. We both know who’s winning this fight.”
“You never know,” I shot back. “I might have a couple tricks up my sleeve.”
That’s when Puzzle made his move. The changeling must have been using one of his little trinkets to stay invisible, because Rising had no idea he was there until he dropped about a dozen of my fire gems onto the warlock’s head. Rising had naturally been focused on the threat in front of it at the time, and didn’t see Puzzle’s attack coming in until it hit.
I grinned savagely and silently thanked the sneaky bug for his help as the lich was absolutely engulfed in flames. I wasn’t under any illusion that Puzzle had killed the thing, but if fire had no chance of hurting Rising, it wouldn’t have blocked all my fire attacks while we were slugging it out. Plus it gave me a nice opening to start my own counteroffensive.
“Die already!” I opened up with the light spell I’d been preparing, sending it shearing through the flaming mass. I couldn’t tell exactly what I hit when everything was on fire, but I saw something get cut off of the warlock and tumble to the ground. I followed that up with a lightning bolt that blasted the lich away, then stole one of Starlight’s favorites by slamming the necromancer with a blast of pure kinetic energy that sent it sailing off into the distance. Considering what I was up against, I decided there was no such thing as overkill, and conjured up a huge block of ice to drop on top of the lich. It slammed on top of the necromancer with a massive thud of finality, and I felt the earth tremble beneath my hooves.
I waited a while to make sure no nasty surprises were coming, then let out a relieved sigh, my shoulders slumping wearily. “Looks like that handled it. Thanks for the assist, Puzzle.”
“This one needed to protect its investment in the Shimmer-mare,” Puzzle answered dryly. “It cannot afford to lose her after it has invested so much time and resources into making her Freeport’s magus and a valued ally.”
“Horseapples.” I trotted over and hoofed him in the shoulder. “That wasn’t about protecting an investment, it was about helping out a friend.”
Puzzle grinned at me, showing off his fangs. “There are times when both of those goals can be accomplished with a single action. In this one’s experience, others often have more than one reason for acting as they do.”
I chuckled and nodded. “Fine, fine, you can keep pretending you’re a cold merc instead of as a big old softie.” I stretched out my sore limbs. “So, check for a body to make sure Rising’s dead, then go celebrate?”
“This one thinks that is an exce—”
Something slammed into my back, knocking me into the mud. My vision swam, and when I turned my head I saw Puzzle staring down at me in shock right before a fireball engulfed him, blasting him away.
Rising Fire stalked towards me. One of its wings was missing and its metallic body and skull were battered and broken in a few places, but it was still up and moving. “You are beginning to annoy me.”
I tried to get back up, but a sudden lance of pain from one of my hind legs sent me back down to the ground. When I looked back, I saw a shard of ice impaled clean through the muscle of my leg. Some distant part of my brain felt the need to remark that I was really going to feel that injury once the adrenaline and shock wore off.
Puzzle leapt back into the fray, no longer on fire but without the battle cloak I knew he’d lined with protective trinkets that were meant to help him survive stuff like getting set on fire by crazy warlocks. He hurled a bag of tanglehoof at the necromancer, who easily blocked the attack with a simple shield spell. Then the necromancer sent the shield hurtling forward with a wave of its hoof, blasting my friend back and sending him tumbling.
“Leave him alone!” I hurled a fireball at the necromancer, but between pain, exhaustion, and my injuries it was a pathetic display.
Rising didn’t even bother with dodging or putting up a shield spell, instead contemptuously batting the attack aside with a foreleg. “It's over, Sunset.”
I gasped in another breath, trying to find some hidden reserve of strength that would be enough for one last attack. But when I dug down deep I came up empty; I guess that weak little fireball had been my last gasp. “I—I'm not ... done yet,” I groaned out, refusing to give up.
“Yes, you are,” Rising answered calmly. “It was an impressive fight, but it’s over. Just tell me where Starlight is, and I’ll even spare a few moments to treat you and your friends before I leave. Under the circumstances, I think that’s a more than fair offer.”
For a moment, I was tempted to accept. I’d lost the fight, and it wouldn’t take Rising long to find Starlight. Why not just accept the inevitable, and spare myself and my friends a whole lot of needless pain? It was the smart, rational thing to do.
I felt warmth on my cheek, and looked over to see the very beginning of dawn on the horizon. The sun. Celestia’s sun.
There was only one answer I could give him. “No.”
“Why not?” Rising demanded.
“Because buck you.”
“Stubborn to the last,” Rising sighed, shaking its head like a disappointed parent. The necromancer stalked off heading towards the village where I’d hidden Starlight. I spotted something out of the corner of my eye, and decided to play for a bit of time.
“Hey, Rising. I know something you don’t know.” I must have been a bit delirious from the pain, because I was almost mocking sing-songing.
The necromancer paused, then turned to me. “What?”
“Strumming’s pretty good with herbs and low-level alchemy,” I answered. “Kind of an outgrowth of knowing how to poison and drug ponies, plus Puzzle taught her a few things. You know, spy stuff. She’s got this one mix that’s real good at getting an injured pony back on their hooves for a little bit before they pass back out again.” I paused for a moment, then added. “I just thought I’d mention that since she probably gave some to Starlight. Would explain why she’s about to shoot you in the back.”
Rising whirled around, just in time to catch one of Starlight’s kinetic blasts in the chest. As the warlock went sailing, I saw Starlight once more. The mare was bracing herself up against the doorframe with one hoof, while Strumming was supporting her other side. Starlight was gasping and panting, sweat pouring down a face that was pale with pain, but she’d managed the spell.
“STARLIGHT GLIMMER!” The air practically shook from Rising’s roar. “At last you will face justice for your crimes!”
Starlight groaned, stumbling against Strumming, but she didn’t fall. “Yeah ... buck you ... too.”
I had one last chance to turn this fight around. Just like the earlier fight with the revenant, Rising wasn’t going to be paying as much attention to me now that the real target was in sight. And while I was still completely tapped out, the rising sun gave me one last option. Sure, the spell hadn’t worked the last time I’d tried it, but I was running pretty low on options. I reached out towards the sun, begging for any help it or the pony behind it could give me. It was just a little trickle of energy, but that was more than I had before.
I turned to face Rising, trying to ignore the pain in my injured leg as I concentrated my borrowed power into one last spell. The warlock was still focused on Starlight, ranting about how justice had finally caught up to her and she would pay for her crimes. Which probably would’ve been a lot more effective if Starlight wasn’t delirious from pain and whatever Strumming had dosed her with to get her up on her hooves for even a couple seconds. I closed my eyes and tried to get the spell exactly right. “Celestia ... please...”
The spell that erupted out of my horn was completely unlike what I’d cast in the fight with the bokor. Instead of just a bright flash of golden light, it was a massive wave of multi-colored radiance. Rising whirled around in time to see it and throw up a shield, but the lich’s defenses were no match for me. Not now.
“Take your crazy somewhere else you damned lich!” I felt my second wind coming on now that I had the necromancer on the ropes, and poured everything I had into the spell.
“NO!” Rising writhed and moaned as its shield shattered and my spell struck home. “No! There will be justice for your crimes Starliiight!” The light grew to blinding radiance, forcing me to shut my eyes. When I opened them again the light was gone, along with Rising Fire.
The instant the spell was done my forelegs gave out, leaving me lying flat on my belly in the mud. Under the circumstances, I was just fine with that. Moving at all sounded like way too much effort right now.
Strumming staggered over, looking far too uninjured considering how bad I felt. I bet she didn’t have anything worse than a couple nasty bruises. Nag. “Did we get the bad guy?”
“I ... I think ... so.” I tried to focus on a detection spell, but I had such a nasty splitting headache that I couldn’t really get anything useful out of it. “I’m not really feeling its magic anymore.”
Puzzle slowly limped over, frowning at the shard of ice sticking out of my leg. “This one suspects that it is done, at least for now.” He sat down next to me with a grunt of pain, slowly pulling out a small medical kit. “Rising Fire seemed convinced it had lost. In this one's experience, when one’s enemies start screaming about how they will get their revenge eventually, it means they will not be getting it today. And Rising seemed quite distressed by the prospect of destruction. Necromancers that are certain they will not die are usually far more blasé in the face of death.”
“Oh. Good.” I knew I probably should’ve asked a few more questions, but keeping my eyes open was just far too much trouble. I vaguely remembered Puzzle giving me something for the pain, and after that the next couple hours were a blur.
Our adventure ended the way most of my crazier enterprises did: with everyone in the hospital getting patched up and checked out. We’d gotten some basic first aid back in the village, but that was no substitute for proper medical care.
Once the best doctors Puzzle could buy were done poking and prodding at me, I was more than ready to get a little fresh air. I trotted out onto a nice little balcony, only to be reminded that Freeport’s idea of fresh air was a lovely combination of wet fishy stink from the sea mixed with all the usual smells of a tightly-packed city. At least the hospital Puzzle had us at was in one of the better parts of the city; poor areas like Sandy Shores tended to smell far worse on account of all the locals dumping their trash into the water.
Strumming was already stretched out on one of the benches, munching away on a bag of chips. She greeted with a casual wing-wave. “Hey, Bacon-mane, how you holding up?
“Three bruised ribs and twenty four stitches.” I answered. I didn’t bother with all the lesser injuries—if I listed out every little cut and bruise I’d be there all day. “You?”
“Sprained wing and ankle,” Strumming answered, which sounded like she’d gotten off pretty lightly to me. “I also lost a couple too many pinions, so I have to stay on the ground until they grow back in.”
I was tempted to growl at her about how she was probably the least injured out of all of us, but restrained the urge. It wasn’t like she’d failed to pull her weight, and honestly I was too tired and sore to be mad at anyone right now. “Any idea how Puzzle’s doing?”
“Yeah, I saw him poking around the hospital gift shop on my way out here.” She smirked and winked at me. “I think he’s buying me something nice, so I pretended not to see him.”
“I saved his buggy butt, so he better buy me something too.” Okay, technically Puzzle and I had done some mutual life-saving, but that was beside the point. I stretched out, wincing when I pulled a bit too far on my bad side; even the best painkillers money could buy only did so much. “Might as well see how he's doing.”
“Yeah,” Strumming agreed. “I was gonna wait and let him surprise me, but I’ve never been good about letting anyone do that. I was one of those kids who spent every Hearthwarming finding all the hiding places for my presents and sneakily working out what was hidden inside the boxes.”
Sure enough, Puzzle was in the hospital’s shop, picking up a few things. Most notably flowers, which were probably for Strumming. I didn’t see anything for me. One of his legs was wrapped up and he had several smaller bandages all over his body, but he seemed to be and moving around reasonably well. I trotted on in. “Hey, bug boy.”
Strumming poked me, thankfully on the side that didn’t have three bruised ribs. “You can’t call him that. That’s my name for him.”
Puzzle grinned at both of us. “This one hopes you two won’t start fighting over it. That would be slightly undignified. Though it supposes that if such a battle must happen, then at least a hospital is a good place for it. You can get any new wounds treated immediately.”
Strumming chuckled and trotted over, giving Puzzle a peck on the cheek. “Relax, just teasing. I’ve been known to do that.”
“This one has noticed such tendencies,” Puzzle agreed dryly.
I scoffed and rolled my eyes at them getting all couple-y again. Seriously, did they have to do that right in front of me? I decided to change the subject before things got out of hoof. “Looks like you survived more-or-less intact.”
Puzzle took a moment to pass the flowers over to Strumming, who promptly went after them with her usual enthusiasm for anything edible. Then he turned to me. “For being set on fire and batted around like a toy, this one feels it is doing remarkably well. It must remember to thank its talismonger for such excellent work.”
“I bet you’ll thank him with some repeat business.” I’d seen what was left of Puzzle’s protective talismans after taking a couple hits from Rising. The results weren’t pretty, but better to have that happen to a couple bits of enchanted gear than Puzzle himself.
“This one does have quite a few protections to replace,” Puzzle agreed. “Considering the quality of the work, it sees no reason not to be a repeat customer. Though the best talismans do not come cheaply—the Shimmer-mare is a very expensive pony to be around.” Puzzle turned and grinned at Strumming. “Between the Shimmer-mare’s habit of dragging this one into expensive danger and Strumming’s snack budget, this one fears it will soon be bankrupt.”
I snorted skeptically. “I'm sure your contract with the Council covers medical expenses and lost equipment. Though when it comes to feeding Strumming ... yeah, you’re on your own.”
Strumming took a moment to finish chewing, then halfheartedly glared at both of us. “I’d fight back, but I’m too busy eating right now.” She chomped down on another one of the roses, which pretty much just proved our point.
Puzzle decided he’d had enough fun for the moment, and answered me instead. “This one is experienced enough to make sure operating expenses are part of any contract it signs. Otherwise this one’s fees would have to be high enough to account for the risk of such expenses, and any of the Shimmer-mare’s heroic impulses would be prohibitively expensive.”
“And I do give you a nice chunk of my pay to make sure everything stays profitable.” Come to think of it, I probably should be keeping a closer eye on my own money instead of trusting Puzzle to handle all of it. Though really, he’d probably done a far better job of managing my accounts than I could’ve. Though that brought another issue to mind. “Gonna guess Starlight's medical bills aren't part of of your contract, are they?”
“This one didn’t think to add a potential enemy to the list of individuals to be covered by the contract, no,” Puzzle conceded. “However, this one would not be overly concerned on that account. The Glimmer-mare does have a wealthy father, and this one did inform the Council of her injuries and arrange a temporary suspension of her banishment. It only seemed decent to allow her access to proper medical care.”
I frowned, a bit surprised to find I actually cared a little bit. I still didn’t like her, but Starlight did help me out during the fight against Rising and its minions. That counted for something. “How bad off is she?”
Puzzle sighed and shook his head. “She was very severely injured during the fight. Broken bones, sprains, cuts, the works. Happens when a revenant pummels you and then you suffer a fall like the one she did. Not to mention a bit of damage from whatever concoction Strumming used to get her back on her hooves for a while.”
“The stuff I used on her comes with a long list of fun side effects, not to mention it’s a little addictive and semi-illegal,” Strumming agreed. “But under the circumstances, I figured getting her body a bit more messed up was the lesser of two evils. Rising certainly would’ve done a lot worse to her.”
“That does seem likely,” Puzzle conceded. “As it stands, Starlight should make a full recovery barring any unknown complications.”
I nodded and headed back out to the balcony, the others following behind me. Once I was out there I did a quick check to make sure nobody else was around, then tossed up a privacy spell just to be safe. “I've been thinking about Rising. That whole crazy story about time travel and...” I trailed off, shaking my head.
“It was pretty nuts,” Strumming agreed, flopping down on a bench and slowly stretching out her wounded wing, wincing a bit when it went too far. “A dimension-hopping, time-traveling lich-thing was not what I was expecting to find when we went to the commune. Honestly, I was expecting it all to be some elaborate revenge scheme by Starlight. You know, stir up some trouble to lure you there, then wham!”
“The thought had occurred to this one as well,” Puzzle agreed, frowning thoughtfully. “This one can imagine a great many upsetting things about Rising, so what precisely was it about the lich that bothered you?”
I sighed and shook my head. “The story Rising gave me was totally nuts and violates one of the fundamental rules of temporal mechanics ... but the alternative is that there was a crazy, ridiculously powerful lich who knew a bunch of highly advanced magic and nobody heard about it until we ran into it. I’m the first pony in more than a century to master Sunbeam’s evocation style, and that teleportation spell is one that Celestia has taught even fewer ponies. I mean, the only other explanation I could see for Rising is something like Sunbeam Sparkle being a lich, going into a coma for centuries, and then waking up completely insane with elaborate delusions and an obsession with a random unicorn.”
“Compared to that, this one thinks time travel might actually be more plausible.” Puzzle shrugged helplessly. “At the very least, Rising seemed convinced that it was speaking the truth. And who knows, maybe it did accomplish what it said it did. Unless this one has heard wrong, isn’t even researching time magic illegal in Equestria?”
I nodded. “The rules are a little more complicated than a flat-out ban, but most of the exceptions are for magi who have special permission to do carefully controlled and supervised research in very narrow fields. So yeah, it’s illegal unless you have a royal dispensation.” I sighed and shook my head. “I'm not saying I believe Rising, but maybe we should warn Starlight not to screw around with time travel.”
Strumming shrugged. “Better safe than sorry and all that rot. I’d really prefer not to get into another slugout with Rising, let alone going through all that crazy stuff the lich talked about.”
Puzzle tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Taking precautions would seem prudent, unless telling the Glimmer-mare that she caused some kind of disaster with time travel ends up making her research time travel to try and fix it, and she ends up causing the problem in the first place. This one can recall no shortage of fictional stories where somepony tries to change the future, only to bring about the very catastrophe they were hoping to prevent.”
I grunted and nodded. “Yeah, good old self-fulfilling prophecies and predestination paradoxes.” Sure, that sort of thing was confined to fiction, but until recently I’d believed much the same about time travel being able to change history. “Let’s ... just keep an eye on her for now. If she starts messing around with any sort of time travel on her own, then we’ll deal with it.” I thought it over for a moment, then added. “Oh, and see if you can find out anything about somepony named Twinkle Sparkle. Rising said she was Starlight’s accomplice.” I grimaced and shook my head. “Not saying I believe Rising, but let's check anyway just to be safe.”
“This one was already planning on doing both of those things,” Puzzle agreed. “Though it feels that it should point out that the name Rising provided was Twilight, not Twinkle.”
“Whatever.” I grinned and nudged him in the chest. “Always thinking one step ahead.”
“It is what keeps this one ahead of the competition,” Puzzle shot back with a smirk.
“That's what you say.” I paused, one last issue nagging at my mind. “Any idea who Rising was? I mean, if we assume the story’s true. There aren't many ponies who could match that spell list.”
Puzzle and Strumming exchanged a cryptic look before he answered me. “This one cannot think of many ponies that could manage it, assuming Rising’s time was relatively similar to our own before the war she spoke of began. With Equestria being dragged into a long, desperate conflict with a dangerous foe who can say what might have changed? The war had clearly left some marks on Rising, even before we account for the destruction of her world.”
I frowned at the sudden shift in pronouns. Maybe Puzzle knew more than he was telling me? Or maybe he just didn’t want to come out and say what he suspected. It wasn’t all that hard to guess what his theory must have been; I was the only living pony who could both copy Sunbeam’s style and use Celestia’s teleportation spells. I didn’t like where that train of thought lead, so it’s no surprise Puzzle didn’t want to come out and say it.
I sighed and ran a hoof through my mane. “Not to mention Rising said time was getting weird towards the end. Makes it even harder to nail down who it could’ve been.”
Puzzle nodded along. “For all we know, the lich had centuries to perfect any number of skills. And considering how driven by revenge it was, it might have been killing Glimmer-mares across multiple timelines.”
I frowned skeptically. “Multiverse theory? That's supposed to be impossible according to the fifth law of...” I trailed off, throwing up my hooves in frustration. “Never mind! This whole conversation assumes Star Swirl’s rules of temporal mechanics are bunk, so citing them is pointless.”
“If we accept Rising’s story as true, it would mean accepting that our current knowledge of time travel is inaccurate.” Puzzle agreed. “Either we accept that she was speaking the truth, or we dismiss her claims and assume she was utterly insane and trying to kill the Glimmer-mare for reasons that were entirely in her head.”
“I think I’ll stick with believing the crazy pony story for now,” I grumbled. The alternative was just way too scary to even consider. I was much happier living in a world where nobody could screw with the timeline. “At least we got the lich.”
“Hope it sticks,” Strumming murmured. “Necromancers are kinda famous for cheating death.”
Puzzle frowned, staring out over the city. “This one suspects that if Rising did somehow survive, we will be hearing from it again. Or at the very least, the Glimmer-mare will. If Rising lives, it is only a matter of time before it seeks out its target once more.”
“Time.” I dropped the privacy spell, since we’d pretty well covered everything worth keeping secret. “I really don't want to think about time for a while. Or much of anything related to this mess. I dunno about you two, but I think we’ve earned a break.”
“Definitely taking a couple vacation days,” Strumming agreed. “Oh, and heads up, Bacon-mane. You might wanna do something to protect your ribs.”
I was about to ask what she meant when I spotted a little black blur headed my way. “Shimmer-mare!” Kukri called out. “This one came as soon as it heard you were hurt!” The little changeling leapt up and hugged me. Right around my injured ribs.
“I warned you...” Strumming murmured as I tried very hard not to whimper.
