When Octavia's priceless cello is stolen by a greedy dragon, it's up to a ragtag crew of musicians, scoundrels, and special agents to get it back. But things are never that easy, especially once a certain princess gets involved.
When Octavia's priceless cello is stolen by a greedy dragon, it's up to Flash Sentry, along with a ragtag crew of musicians, scoundrels, and special agents to get it back! Just another day's work for Flash Sentry, "Hero" of Equestria-- that is, until a certain princess gets involved ...
Under normal circumstances, a summons to the court of Princess Twilight Sparkle would be the highlight of any academic's career. Her reputation as a patron for all branches of scholarship is widely known-- not to mention her reputation for friendliness and a generally sweet disposition.
However.
I am loath to admit that, as I looked over the invitation, I was reminded of a time I was called into the principal's office when I was a little colt. Or, given the subject of the summons, I felt the same sense of impending dread that Flash Sentry so often describes so often in his memoirs. Still, the letter was worded just sternly enough that I didn't dare decline. And thus, I bought a ticket for the next train to Ponyville.
Princess Twilight Sparkle met with me in her library-- a monument to scholarship, if there ever was one. I could have spent hours perusing the rows upon rows of shelves, poring over the texts there, but the presence of the Princess of Friendship and Magic distracted me. Princess Twilight Sparkle sat in an old chair, worn to the point of maximum comfort. She wore no crown or other sign of her station-- in fact, if one ignored her wings, it'd be easy to mistake her for just another unicorn (albeit one slightly taller and more serene looking than the usual).
“George-- can I call you George?” Princess Twilight set a steaming cup of tea on the table in front of me, then poured one for herself.
“Of course, Princess.”
“You don't have to be so formal.”
“Oh, er, yes. Anything you like Pri-- Twilight.”
Princess Twilight smiled, as if reminded of some long-running joke. “I've been following your work for quite some time, you know.”
“You have?” My voice may have cracked.
Princess Twilight nodded. “Your paper on Clover the Clever's political maneuverings to preserve the peace during the first few years of the United Three Kingdoms was fascinating.”
“That was my graduate thesis.” I said, stunned. “I didn't think anypony outside of the university even knew it existed. You read that?”
“I did!” Princess Twilight beamed with girlish enthusiasm, enough to make one forget she was an ageless being of untold magical power. “A lot of ponies only know Clover the Clever from Hearth's Warming Eve plays. They don't know the real Clover was a talented-- but complicated individual. History has a tendency to overlook a pony's flaws-- especially when those flaws don't fit the story that a particular historian wants to tell. And sometimes the reverse is true, when someone's talents and achievements are all forgotten just because they wind up playing the villain.”
I swallowed, nervous. “This ... is about Flash Sentry, isn't it?”
Princess Twilight's smile faltered, if just a little. “It is.”
“I promise you, everything I've published is exactly what Sentry wrote, without the slightest embellishment.”
“That's the problem.” Princess Twilight blew on her tea to cool it. “I've done some research of my own-- and from everything I've gathered, the memoirs you found are the genuine article.”
I trembled, just slightly. “You're ... you're not going to blacklist me, are you, Princess?”
“Of course not. I don't believe in censorship.” Princess Twilight sipped her tea and set her cup back on her saucer. The little clink of porcelain was as loud as a judge's gavel. “But.”
“But?” I winced.
“Regarding your last letter, on the most recent installment you're preparing for publication ... “
“Ah, yes.” I shrank down in my chair. “I, er, thought it might be prudent to contact you, given the subject matter. Even if my lawyer says that there's no real grounds for a libel case.”
Princess Twilight arched a brow, and went back to her tea again. “That's correct.” She said, primly. “And I will admit, I've learned a great deal from Flash Sentry's memoirs myself. And, given the subject of the latest installment, I think it's important to provide some ... context.”
“Context?” I blurted. “You mean--”
Twilight Sparkle just smiled again, dazzlingly so. “I'm going to help you annotate the next volume of the Flash Sentry Papers.”
Thank you for reading! It's always warmed my heart to see a pony with his or her nose stuck in a book. Whether it's a volume of mathemagical theory, or just a tawdry romance novel, every book has the potential to educate and inspire in countless ways.
Every book, including this one.
To tell the truth, I did not know Flash Sentry very well. At least, I didn't know him nearly as well as I thought I did. I certainly didn't know Flash Sentry as the cowardly rake he describes himself as over the course of his memoirs. It's also worth noting that while I was acquainted with Carrot Top, I was completely unaware of her career as Special Agent Golden Harvest. Which, I suppose, is a testament to her skills as a secret operative, and certainly not an indication of any sort of obliviousness on my part, much less Princess Celestia keeping secrets from me on a “need to know” basis.
With this in mind, I have refrained from comment on the previous installments of The Flash Sentry Papers. Professor Fresian's scholarship has been nothing but impeccable, and I cannot fault his methodology in the publication of Flash's memoirs. This said, given the events of this volume (and my personal involvement thereof, however tangential), I feel the need to contribute certain commentary for the sake of clarification.
To this end, Professor Fresian has graciously allowed me offer my own thoughts and recollections on the affair, helpfully delineated from his own notes by this differing font (which I hope you have noticed by now). It is my hope and intention to provide valuable context to this volume of the Flash Sentry Papers, and thus enhance your educational experience.
This wasn't the delicate, “pretty-crying” you see so often in cheap melodramas, in which the heroine sheds a few silent tears and looks off into the distance wistfully. No, the poor mare's normally lovely face was twisted into an ugly mask as her tears poured down her gray cheeks. Every so often, she would stop her sobbing in a vain attempt to compose herself, only to launch into a fresh bout of waterworks.
It was a good thing the donut shop* was relatively empty, or else ponies would have started to stare (or, even worse, somehow put me to blame for the lady's emotional distress). As it was, I could only stare across the table in awkward silence. I would've made some excuse to slip out of the booth, but Carrot Top sat at my side, blocking me in (no doubt intentional, on her part).
*Likely Joe's Donut Shop, a hidden-in-plain-sight safehouse used by the Equestrian Intelligence Office. See also: Sentry at the Charge.**
Silent and unbidden, the mare's friend, a white unicorn in too-trendy sunglasses, floated a handkerchief over. The gray mare blew her nose with a foghorn's volume.
“It's okay, Octavia.” Carrot Top reached across the table to pat the crying mare's hoof. “Take your time.”
“I'm sorry.” Octavia sniffled, and started to adjust her bow tie, which had been knocked slightly askew in her lamentations. “It's just ... it's ... it's gone!” It looked like she was about to start bawling again, but the unicorn sitting beside her touched her shoulder and calmed her down. Octavia put her hoof over the unicorn's, and smiled wanly. “Thank you, Vinyl. I don't know what I'd do without you.”
**At the time, I had no idea about Joe's affiliation with the Equestrian Intelligence Office. I thought Princess Celestia just kept visiting for the chocolate cake donuts. They were that good.
“Er.” I said, as the little moment of emotional vulnerability seemed even more private and awkward than the crying from moments before. “Forgive me for asking, but just ... what's gone, exactly?”
“My Stal.”
“Your what?”
“Sorry-- musician slang. I ... had a Stallionvarius cello-- the Phoenix Stal, to be precise. One of sixty-three surviving cellos crafted by Stallionvarius, the greatest builder of instruments who ever lived. It's centuries old, priceless-- and ... and ... gone.” Octavia shuddered.
“It was stolen?” Carrot Top said.
“Yes. No. It's ... complicated.” Octavia sniffled. “The Phoenix Stal, like many Stallionvarii, is technically owned by a holding corporation. The corporation entrusted the cello to me, to ensure that it would be played as it should.”
“And they've given it to another musician?” I said.
“No.” Octavia shook her head. “I would be more than happy to hand the Phoenix Stal over to a musician more skilled than I am. That's ... not what happened.”
“Then what did happen?”
Octavia's composure wavered, but she kept her voice steady. “As I said, the Phoenix Stal was owned by a holding corporation. The problem is, corporations can be bought and sold. I ... I don't know the exact business details, but the holding corporation was bought out by a much larger business, and they ... they took it from me.” Octavia's lower lip began to quiver. “And the worst part is, they're not even going to play it! They just told me that it was the now the property of some 'collector'--” Octavia spat the c-word. “They don't care about the instrument-- they just want it as a trophy!” At that, the poor mare's resolve finally broke, and she went back to crying inconsolably.
I winced. “That's ... a tragic story, but if you'll excuse my asking, just what do we have to do with it?” No sooner had I asked the question, Carrot Top elbowed me in the side. I winced, but kept myself together. “It's a valid question.”
Octavia blew her nose again, and blinked a fresh set of tears from her eyes. “When my friend Lyra found out about the Stal, she said that she ... knew some ponies who might be able to help. Which is why I asked you to come here.”
“Who's Lyra?” I said, blinking. I'd used the 'I know a guy who knows a guy' routine more than a few times myself, but I'd never been on the other end of the chain.
“That's, um, me.” A minty-green unicorn waked through the door, with a blue & pink haired earth pony close at her side, both wearing saddlebags. The two trotted up to our table, and Lyra smiled, awkwardly. “Octavia and I used to play together in the Canterlot Fillyharmonic.” She scratched at the back of her neck. “But really, this was all Bon Bon's idea.”
“Harvest.” The cream-colored pony nodded to Carrot Top with professional (if not friendly) courtesy.
“Drops.” Carrot Top mirrored the expression and the gesture.
“I'm calling in that favor.” 'Bon Bon' said.
At those words, an all too familiar prickling set into my feathers. I'd long since learned that anyone who knew Carrot Top's nom du guerre was dangerous company. Invariably, ponies who knew Special Agent Golden Harvest's true identity were either terribly dangerous themselves, or (even worse), the kinds of ponies who invariably sent me straight into the jaws of danger “for the good of Equestria.” What good Equestria got from my typically panicked flailing, I couldn't tell you, but damn if that stopped anypony.
“This is a terrible idea.” Carrot Top spoke up while I was still trying to think of a way to weasel my way out of the fiasco before it even began.
“I know.” Bon Bon pulled up a chair, and Lyra did the same. “But you've seen how important this is to her. She needs help. Professional help.”
“I'll say.” I murmured, only to catch another elbow from Carrot Top.
“You've got a plan?” Carrot Top said, not missing a beat.
“The start of one.” Bon Bon pulled an intimidatingly unmarked envelope from her saddlebag and tossed it onto the table. Carrot Top scooped it up before anypony else could, opened it up, and immediately started scanning the documents and dossiers within. I craned my neck to get a look, but all I could really see was an eclectic collection of maps and photographs. It must have meant more to Carrot Top than it did to my untrained eye, as she soon slid everything back into the envelope, and placed it flat on the table.
“So you're really going to do it.” Carrot Top closed her eyes. “You're going to steal the most valuable cello in the world.”
“Steal?” I said.
“Yep.” Bon Bon nodded.
“You do know who's got it right now, don't you?”
“Yep.”
“And where he's probably keeping it?”
“Yep. You in, or are you out?” Bon Bon said.
“We're in.” Carrot Top nodded. “But after this, we're even.”
“Square.” Bon Bon nodded, and the two of them shook hooves.
“We?” I said.
“Yes. We are going to help.” Carrot Top said, levelly. “For better or worse, you're a key part of the plan. Besides, I'd think that the great and noble Flash Sentry would be more than happy to help out a lady in need.”
“But--” My wings fluttered a bit, desperate to escape. But, even if Carrot Top hadn't trapped me in the corner of the booth, I knew I couldn't show myself to be a craven coward in front of such an audience. Carrot Top already had my number, of course, and Bon Bon likely sized me up in just the same way-- but the three musicians just looked at me with renewed hope in their eyes as they realized that Flash Sentry, Hero of Equestria, Slayer of Changelings, and Otherwise Dashing Fellow was going to help them. Desperate, I played the only card I could: my already overblown reputation. “I ... I simply can't. I'm not a criminal.” I tried to make myself sound properly heroic.
“Uh huh.” Carrot Top rolled her eyes. “I know you better than that, Sentry.”
“Well, er--” I fidgeted slightly. “I'm not a professional criminal.”
“That's fine.” Carrot Top said. “You don't need to be one-- everyone's got a role to play in Bon Bon's plan, and from what I've seen, you've got the easy job.” If more dire words have ever been spoken, I'm unaware of it.
“And just what am I supposed to do, exactly?”
“Simple.” Carrot Top said, as casually as if she were sending me off to get a fresh round of coffees. “You're going to seduce Princess Twilight Sparkle.”
“Let's start from the top.” Bon Bon said, and pushed the 'next slide' button on the projector. We'd relocated to the secret safehouse basement below the donut shop. It was a lot less crowded than the last time I'd been down there (what, with the changeling invasion and all), but that just meant I didn't have anyone to hide behind. And so, I could do little but watch as Bon Bon laid out her mad scheme.
“The target is the Phoenix Stallionvarius.” A photo of a red-laquered cello popped up. “They call it the 'Phoenix' because of the red finish. It's centuries old, absolutely irreplaceable, and valued around six million bits. At least, that's what he paid for it.”
Another slide, and I nearly jumped out of my chair as I stared at the reptilian monstrosity pictured. Saurian and serpentine, the ruby-red dragon on the slide smiled at the camera, no doubt to show off his rows of chef-knife sized teeth. Almost as an afterthought, I noticed the piles of gold and jewels in the background.
“This is Drake Diamondback.” Bon Bon said. “He's not a Dragon Lord ... but he's close. He's somewhat unique among dragons in that he's got a mind for business. He made his fortune-- and his reputation –as a mercenary, to the point where kingdoms started paying him not to fight. From there, he went into more ... legitimate ventures, at least on paper, and he's been raking in money ever since. He keeps it all here, at the Spitespire..”
Bon Bon cycled to the next slide, showing a jagged granite peak that certainly put the 'spite' in its name. “It's on the very southernmost border of the Dragon Lands-- nominally under the Dragon Lord's control, but Drake runs the spire more or less as an independent mini-kingdom. He hasn't left Spitespire in years-- he's got other, less powerful dragons on his payroll to bring the treasure in. They're probably delivering the Phoenix Stal, along with whatever other treasures they've been able to put their claws on, as we speak. Drake prides himself on his collection-- if it's one of a kind, he's got to have it. In addition to the Phoenix Stal, Drake's hoard contains a large number of other unique artworks and artifacts.”
“I'm sorry.” I raised a hoof. “But ... are you insane? I mean, I thought it was bad enough when we were just taking the cello from some rich and powerful pony-- but a dragon? How do you expect to even get to Spitespire? It's not like dragons are known for their hospitality.”
Bon Bon hit me with the same annoyed glare Carrot Top had used on me countless times (I wonder if they taught that at special agent school) and cleared her throat. “They aren't, no. But, by ancient tradition, Spitespire is open to all dragons. So, to get access to Spitespire, we'll need one of our own.”
“And where, exactly, do you propose to find a dragon?” I grumbled.
“Ponyville.” Bon Bon cycled to the next slide, this one a picture of a far smaller, far less intimidating dragon. There was nothing sharp about him at all: no fangs, no claws, not even the batlike wings. The term 'roly poly' came to mind. “This is Spike, Princess Twilight Sparkle's, uh ... assistant? He's also kind of her little brother.”
“I bet that led to some awkward conversations around the dinner table.” I murmured.
“Adoptive little brother.” Bon Bon added on. She briefly looked to Carrot Top with a 'how do you put up with him?' sort of expression, to which Carrot Top could only reply with a shrug.
Bon Bon sighed, and continued explaining. “So if Spike's involved, Princess Twilight Sparkle will be as well. There's no way we'll be able to recruit Spike if Princess Twilight knows what we're up to. Which is where you come in, Sentry. We're going to get you assigned to Ponyville to act as Princess Twilight Sparkle's bodyguard. From there, it'll be up to you to distract her while the rest of us do the dirty work.”
“Distract her.” I said, deadpan.
“I'm sure you'll think of something.” Bon Bon said. “Now, if you're done interrupting, I've got seventy-two more slides to go through.”
I slumped in my chair as Bon Bon went on (and on, and on). From what I could tell, the beginning and end of my part of the scheme was to just stand around Princess Twilight Sparkle and look handsome. And so, I tuned out the rest of Bon Bon's briefing. This, of course, was a terrible mistake, though I wouldn't realize it until much, much later.
Finally, Bon Bon dismissed us-- she went off with Lyra, and Vinyl Scratch took a still-sniffling Octavia off somewhere, the lot of them no doubt all with their own parts to play in Bon Bon's overcomplicated scheme. At least Carrot Top had time enough for a drink, because damn if I didn't need one.
“I don't get it.” I said, over a mug of sweet cider (not my typical fare, but Carrot Top had ordered a pitcher). “Just why are you going along with this? And this time you can't even bother with the usual nonsense about crown and country because I'm fairly certain Princess Celestia would frown on outright theft.”
“Bon--” Carrot Top blinked, and then warily looked over her shoulder on watch for eavesdroppers (there weren't any-- it was a slow night, and we'd picked the farthest, darkest booth). “Special Agent Sweetie Drops saved my life once.”
“So?” I said. “I've saved your life before, and I'm not dragging you off on suicidal ventures like this. In fact, it's usually the other way around. Some thanks I get.” I took a swig of cider.
“That's different.” Carrot Top said, curtly. “I've saved your life, too. Multiple times. We're even.”
“And you haven't gotten the chance to repay her? Fine. Save her life by stopping her. That mare's going to get the lot of us killed, all over an oversized violin.”
“It's not that easy, Sentry.” Carrot Top sighed, and rubbed at her eyes.
“Well, maybe I should just save your life again by stopping you.”
Carrot Top set her mug down with a heavy thump, and eyed me. “We both know you couldn't stop me if you tried.” She was right, too-- her line of business as Special Agent Golden Harvest was hoof to hoof combat. If she put her mind to something, it'd take a whole platoon of royal guardponies to even slow her down.
“Not physically, no. But your friend Bon Bon isn't the mastermind she thinks she is. Any plan that hinges on me is, by definition, a bad plan. If I don't seduce the princess, you don't get your dragon, and then nobody gets to go to the Dragon Lands to get themselves roasted and eaten. I'll just tell Miss Octavia 'I'm terribly sorry, dear, but I quite simply cannot play with the princess' delicate emotions,' and that'll be that. I stay the noble hero, and we all stay here.”
“Before you say no, let me ask you a question.” Carrot Top drained her cider, wiped the foam from her lips, and poured herself another. “Did you see the list of places Diamondback sent his agents?”
“I'm afraid I dozed off after the thirty sixth slide or so.”
Carrot Top leaned forward, and tapped the tabletop with one hoof. “It's not just instruments Diamondback is after-- he's contacted art galleries, museums ... and wineries.”
“Wait.” I frowned. “What use would a dragon have for wine?”
“The same as a priceless cello. Nothing. Diamondback just wants to say he's got the best and rarest of everything.”
“The best and rarest?” The taste of sweet cider on my tongue turned ashy as I realized just what Carrot Top was implying. “You mean ... he's got a Chateau de Cheval?” I'd only had to raid the royal cellars and kill a few dozen changelings* the last time I had a taste of the finest (and, most expensive) vintage in Equestria. My mouth began to water at the prospect, but I shook my head. “No. I'm not going to risk my life on this insane scheme, even with a bottle of de Cheval on the line.”
*Again, see: Sentry at the Charge.
“Not a bottle.” Carrot Top said, smugly. “A cask.”
I bit the inside of my lip, and whimpered softly. “And you're saying we could get it--”
“--as long as you seduce Princess Twilight.” Carrot Top said.
“Hold on.” I held up a hoof. “That last part doesn't bother you?”
“Why would it? It's part of the job.”
“Part of the job? Is this some sort of special agent thing?” A horrid thought struck me. “You haven't, uh ... distracted anypony like that before, have you?” And another horrid thought struck me. “Damnation, that's not what you're doing to me, is it?”
Carrot Top stared at me across the table for a long, long moment-- only to break into laughter. She had quite a lovely laugh, though I preferred listening to it when it wasn't directed at me.
“Oh! I'm sorry, I needed that.” Carrot Top wiped a mirthful tear from the corner of her eye. “But no. It's like you said, any plan that depends on you, Sentry, is by definition a bad plan. So you can rest easy, knowing that the reasons I put up with you are purely, uh ... recreational.” She clinked her mug against mine and chugged down a good half-quart of cider in one go, which likely explained the faint blush on her cheeks. “Besides, I'm not worried about you and the Princess. She's not your type. Too innocent. Too optimistic.”
“Then what's the point of sending me off to woo her?”
“Because you're her type. At least, that's what she thinks. Don't you remember the way she acted around you back in the Crystal Empire?”
“Maybe?” I scratched my head. “I mean, I only bumped into her the one time. I just said something glib and pretended everything was fine. To be honest I completely forgot about her once those cultists dragged me off and tied me to that big rock. And, uh, thank you again or getting me out of that, by the way.**”
**As mentioned before, Flash Sentry's memoirs are woefully unorganized and incomplete. But, from what I have gathered, Sentry's posting in the Crystal Empire took place in the indeterminate period of time between Volume 2 (Carrot and Stick) and Volume 3 (Sentry at the Charge).
“Whatever you said, it made an impression. Which is exactly what we need to get Bon Bon's plan rolling. So are you in?”
“Damn it, I suppose I am.” I sat back in the booth, my palate already tingling in anticipation. “You could have at least bribed me right off the bat, though. Would have kept me from complaining as much.”
“I didn't know Diamondback had a cask until Bon Bon made her full presentation.” Carrot Top finished the last of her cider, and turned her mug upside-down on the table. “Plus, I figured it'd be better for your reputation if Octavia and the other civilians didn't see me bribing you outright.”
“How noble of you.” I drained my own mug and mirrored Carrot Top's gesture. “So I'm in. Now what?”
“It'll take a few days to get you transferred to Ponyville. Until then, we just wait. Although ... “ Carrot Top's smile took on a familiar slyness. “It might help if you ... practiced a little before meeting the Princess.”
“Practice?” I said. “Miss Top, I can be devastatingly charming when I put my mind to it.”
Carrot Top put a hoof over mine, and winked. “Prove it.”
The next few days were quiet enough, allowing me to get back into my standard routine. Which is to say, I spent most of my on-duty hours avoiding anything that looked like actual work. Every now and again Carrot Top would brief me on the progress of Sweetie Drops' mad plan-- typically over dinner, and typically courtesy of an Equestrian Intelligence Office expense account.
And typically, I didn't pay too much attention to the scheming bits-- Carrot Top just dropped little tidbits like “the professionals from Las Pegasus are on their way,” or “Lyra's finally found enough fancy rats,” or something even more nonsensical. At which point I'd feign understanding and order another round of drinks. Had I paid attention during the initial plotting back in the donut shop, it might have made sense, but I wouldn't put money on it.
One fact, however, did manage to get through my thick skull.
“The orders assigning you to be Princess Twilight's bodyguard are coming in tomorrow.” Carrot Top told me. “Try to act surprised when they come in.”
I didn't have to act surprised, let me tell you. As it's not very often when Captain Shining Armor himself is the one delivering the orders. Getting called up before the Captain of the Royal Guard is one thing, but when said Captain comes all the way down from the Crystal Empire, that's something else entirely. And, despite my reflexively-guilty conscience, I reminded myself that I technically hadn't done anything illegal yet, so it's not as if Captain Armor was about to start a court martial. And so, I put on a stony, vaguely heroic expression, and marched up to meet my fate.
“Lieutenant.” He said, sizing me up from behind the large desk of the large office he'd commandeered for his visit.
“Sir.” I stood at attention and snapped off a parade-worthy salute.
“At ease.” Captain Armor returned the salute, and gestured to the single chair in front of his desk. “Make yourself comfortable, Lieutenant Sentry. “You may want to be sitting down for this.”
“Sir?” I sat down, but the hardwood chair was hardly comfortable, let me tell you.
“Just ... read this.” Captain Armor slid an envelope across the table. The paper was sealed shut with a blob of red wax-- bearing nothing less than the royal seal. I opened it up, and scanned the tersely worded orders accordingly. Sure enough, I was being ordered to Ponyville, post haste, to act as Princess Twilight Sparkle's bodyguard. On the one hoof, I'd been expecting this-- on the other, I hadn't been expecting the orders to come in from so far up the chain of command. What strings had Carrot Top and Bon Bon pulled?
Captain Armor must have seen my stunned expression. “I know this is ... unprecedented, especially since Princess Twilight has saved Equestria several times already without a military escort.”
“You're right, Captain.” I nodded gravely. Tactically applied humility had always been a foundation of my overblown reputation. “Are you sure there hasn't been some kind of mistake?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Captain Armor sighed. “It's politics, like everything else. Somepony, somewhere, has got the idea that Twily-- sorry, that Twilight is a Princess in name only, without the proper ... accoutrements.”
“If you'll forgive my saying so, Captain, hasn't she already got the wings? Seems pretty open and shut there.”
“You'd think so, but here we are anyway. Some of the more conservative elements at court are insisting that Twilight should have her own regiment of royal guardsponies-- something we simply haven't the numbers or budget to field. Which is why it's come to you.”
“Me, sir?”
“Somepony got the bright idea that if we didn't have the means to train and recruit a regiment from scratch, the least we could do is send one of our most notable, most decorated guardsponies. Your name was one of the ones put forward, and so ... here we are.” Captain Armor gave a long-suffering sigh, and sat back in his chair. “Once Cadance found out, she couldn't stop laughing.”
“Laughing, sir?” I said, the politest echo you'd ever meet.
“She told me it was a long story.” Captain Armor looked up, and met my eyes with a surprisingly steely gaze. “But. Off the record, I want you to know, Lieutenant ... I know your reputation.”
My heart skipped a beat (probably more than one), but I kept my face blank. “Reputation, sir?”
“I know what you did at my wedding. And I know you've worked as a 'liaison' with the Equestrian Intelligence Office on more than one occasion.”
“That's ... correct, sir. Though I thought that sort of thing was, ah ... classified?”
“My wife sits on the throne of the Crystal Empire.”
“Point.”
“If I were a more paranoid pony, I'd start wondering why the E.I.O. had suddenly taken interest in my sister. But, I'm better than that.” Shining Armor said. “So all I'm going to say is this: if my sister gets hurt-- physically or emotionally –I'll have you assigned to the coldest, remotest weather station in Yakyakistan I can find.”
I swallowed, feeling my mouth go dry as I squirmed beneath Captain Armor's parade-ground glare. “Y-yakyakistan, sir?”
“North Yakyakistan. And you will thank me for it, because if you're all the way out there, there's a slim chance that Cadance and Celestia will forget that it was Lieutenant Flash Sentry who was responsible for something happening to Twilight.”
“Understood, sir.” I rasped.
“Good!” Captain Armor's glare melted away, and he just grinned. “It's a good thing I'm not a paranoid pony, isn't it? I'm sure this is just another trivial political matter that everypony will forget about in a couple of weeks. Something else will come along to distract the nobles, and then it'll be easy to transfer you back to Canterlot. So long as there aren't any ... incidents.”
“I promise you, Captain, that there won't be.” It should come as no surprise to you, dear reader, that I was (and still am) an adept liar.
Captain Armor, chivalrous git he was, took me at face value, and nodded. “Very well, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”
I snapped off another salute, and marched straight out of the office. I made it just out of sight, around the corner, until the shakes set in.
“So how did it go?” Carrot Top asked, materializing next to me. The only reason her sudden appearance wasn't startling was because I was already too preoccupied with visions of Celestia's wrath and/or freezing my pinions off on some forsaken Yakyakistan peak.
“I'm doomed.” I murmured, staring out a window.
“So the usual, then.”
“I'm sorry,” I shook my head, “it's not your tail on the line here. Captain Armor is going to pay close attention to everything I get up to-- there's no way we'll be able to bamboozle Princess Twilight Sparkle without him noticing something's amiss. And then it's off to a Yakyakistan gulag-- if I'm lucky.”
“Captain Armor won't notice.” Carrot Top said. “Remember, his own fiance was replaced by a changeling for who knows how long. Whereas you have seen through multiple changeling disguises on multiple occasions.”
“Mostly through dumb luck.”
“Still counts.” Carrot Top patted me on the shoulder. “But think-- if Shining Armor was too dense to notice when the one pony he loved more than anyone else in the world had been kidnapped, what makes you think he'll do any better when some of Equestria's most skilled special agents are involved?”*
*At this point, I should note a key piece of information (since Carrot Top neglects to). Namely, during the First Battle of Canterlot, my brother was under the influence of Queen Chrysalis' dark and powerful powers of mesmerism. In fact, that Queen Chrysalis had to resort to such extreme measures when her typical shapechanging would not suffice is only a testament to the strength of my brother's love for Princess Cadance. That Carrot Top would describe such a traumatic episode in such a reductive matter is a sign of ignorance at best, or crass manipulation of Flash Sentry at worst.
“You ... might have a point there.” I had to admit.
“Of course I do.” Carrot Top nudged me in the side. “Now come on. You'd better get packed if you're going to make the morning train to Ponyville.”
I've played the spy game enough over the years to know that coincidence-- while not impossible –is very, very improbable.
And so, when one particular car of the seven-fifteen to Ponyville happened to seat no less than three musicians, two special agents, and one so-called Hero of Equestria, I couldn't help but notice. Though what really caught my attention were the three ponies who I didn't recognize from our conspiracy: two unicorn brothers in boater hats, and a blond-maned pegasus with a lazy eye (she had rather nice plumage, though). The former sat at the back of the car, playing an idle hand of cards between them, while the latter chatted enthusiastically with Carrot Top, catching up in the way that old friends do. I wondered if the poor mare's eye was an old war wound, but she prattled on with no small degree of enthusiasm.
Once the train was well under way, Bon Bon got out of her seat (leaving Lyra sprawled in a strangely bent position) and made a brief circuit of the train car, first checking the door at one end, and then the other, making sure nopony was coming. She peeked out the windows on either side for good measure, and then nodded.
“Right. We're clear.”
At that signal, everypony in the car turned their attention to Bon Bon. She looked over the motley bunch of ponies, and nodded. “We don't have much time, so I'll make this quick. For a job this big, we needed some extra help, which is why I've recruited--”
“Flim Flimflam!” Said one of the boater-wearing unicorns.
“And Flam Flimflam!” Said the other. To this day, I forget which one had the moustache.
“--them.” Bon Bon grumbled, glaring at the pair with a look that I thought she'd reserved only for me. “They'll be covering some of the ... social engineering aspects of the operation.”
“Which is a polite way of calling us grifters.” Flim said, adjusting his bow-tie.
“Hucksters,” said Flam.
“Hustlers,” said Flim.
“Swindlers,” said Flam.
“Confidence ponies,” said Flim.
“And while calling us such things might be hurtful--” Flam held his boater over his heart.
“-that doesn't mean they're not accurate.” Flam mirrored his brother's gesture, and winked.
“As, in fact, my brother and I are the best in the business! And, given how your esteemable mastermind has been so gracious as to offer us a generous percentage in your little venture, it is our pleasure to offer our services.” Flim spun his hat on his hoof, and deposited it back onto his head.
“Thank you, gentlecolts.” Bon Bon facehooved. “And, for added air support, Carrot Top has brought in her friend, Ditzy Do.”
“Hi!” Ditzy Do waved a hoof to the crowd.
“So, we all know what we have to do. Consider phase one the ... practice run, I guess. Work the kinks out of the plan. So, is everyone ready?”We nodded our agreement (or, at least, they nodded agreement, and I just nodded along to look like I knew what I was doing) and Bon Bon smiled. “Good. Now rest up-- it's only getting harder from here.”
Once Bon Bon had given her 'inspirational' speech, we all settled in for an uneventful ride to Ponyville. The train lumbered into the station, and we all went our separate ways, on our seperate business. I did, however, take a few moments to flit over to Carrot Top's side before she could disappear into the crowd.
“Forgive my asking, but ... are you certain it's a good idea to bring in more ponies?”
“It's Bon Bon's operation-- so it's her call. And she's right-- if we're going to pull one over on Diamondback, we'll need as much help as we can get.”
“And you trust the Flimflams?”
“Of course not.” Carrot Top said. “But that means we just have to keep an eye on them.”
I bit back a comment about eyes, and glanced over my shoulder to where Ditzy Do was making a beeline for a breakfast cart. “What about your friend? What's her story? Let me guess ... another Special Agent? Ex Wonderbolt? Storm-chaser?”
“She's a mailpony.”
“A mailpony.” I blinked. “We're not going to ... mail the cello to Equestria, are we?”
“Look, Sentry.” Carrot Top said. “Ponyville is sandwiched right between a gate to Tartarus, and the edge of the Everfree forest. It's been attacked from everything from parasprites to full-on dragons-- and that's before you start counting the chaos gods and evil sorcerers Princess Twilight has to deal with.”
“And?” I said.
“And,” Carrot Top went on, “Ponyville has never had a lapse in its postal service. Ever. Delays, sure, but there's not a single letter or package that goes undelivered in this town. All because of her.” Carrot Top gestured towards her friend, who had closed her eyes in bliss as she scarfed down a blueberry muffin. (Not that I blamed her-- the refreshments on the train from Canterlot weren't particularly palatable). “She's the most reliable pony I know. Plus, I need somepony in the crew besides you I can trust.”
“You don't trust Bon Bon?”
“Special Agent Sweetie Drops always put the mission before everything. Before herself, before other ponies on her team, and certainly before ... extenuating circumstances. But that was then. She's lightened up a lot since she met Lyra, but then there was the bugbear incident ... “ Carrot Top shook her head. “I'm just hedging my bets, that's all.”
“You'll forgive me if I find that more than a little terrifying.”
“You'll get used to it.” Carrot Top said.
“I haven't yet.”
“Better get started, then.” Carrot Top held a hoof above her eyes against the glimmering crystals of Twilight's tree-palace at the center of town. “Because Princess Twilight's new bodyguard is about to report for duty.”
It wasn't a valet or a butler who met me at the door, but rather, the little dragon we'd come here to recruit in the first place. Looking down at Spike, yet another twist of uneasiness wracked my belly-- this was our ticket into the Dragon Lands?
“Er, hello.” I said, smiling. “I'm Lieutenant Flash Sentry-- I need to speak with the Princess.”
“Lieutenant?” Spike's looked over my dress uniform (which was far more comfortable to travel in than full armor), eyes already gleaming with boyish anticipation. “Are you in the Royal Guard? Are you here for some kind of super cool adventure?”
“Yes to the first, no to the second.” I said. “But I do need to see Princess Twilight, if she's in. State business, you know.”
“Oh! State business!” Spike opened the door all the way. “I know how that is! Sometimes I belch out a letter from Princess Celestia and the next thing you know Twilight's freaking out and getting out the emergency checklist.”
“Here's to hoping this won't be checklist worthy.” I said.
“It's Twilight. Everything is checklist worthy.” Spike said, good naturedly, and led me on. I'd been to the Palace of Friendship once before-- though it had been during a victory ball, and I'd spent most of the party hanging around near the exits in case King Thorax and his changelings suddenly turned evil and started trying to eat everypony's brains. Without the decorations and shoulder-to-shoulder guests, the Palace of Friendship was almost quaint in its lack of pretention. You'd think Princess Twilight would've started putting up some paintings or sculptures of herself by that point, but in their place there were assorted photos of the Princess (both pre and post wings) laughing and cavorting with various other ponies.
We found Twilight in a humble sitting room, enjoying a late breakfast with two of her hoofmaidens: a chubby pink earth pony, and a scrappy-looking pegasus with an obviously dyed mane.*
*For the record, Rainbow Dash's unique hair color was perfectly natural. Pinkie Pie did have a little bit of a sweet tooth, though. It goes without saying that they were both my friends, not hoofmaidens.
“Hey Twilight!” Spike said, without much in the way of ceremony. “You've got a visitor!”
“Mmf?” Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship and Magic, looked over in mid-bite of her scone. Her eyes went wide at seeing me (no doubt due to a combination of my inherent dashing handsomeness and Princess Twilight's likely cloistered upbringing). She choked down her mouthful of pastry, and managed a polite smile. “Oh, hello! I, uh. Wasn't expecting company.”
“It's a boy.” The pink pony murmured to the pegasus, at which point the two started sniggering amongst themselves.
“Lieutenant Flash Sentry, at your service.” I sketched a quick bow, and then presented Princess Twilight with the envelope bearing my orders. “Quite literally, in fact.”
The princess levitated the letter over and read it-- two, three times –and finally set it on the table. “But ... this doesn't make any sense! I don't need a bodyguard!”
“Yeah! You don't look that tough.” The pegasus said. “What's one dude going to do the next time Tirek starts throwing fireballs around, huh?”
“To be honest, you're absolutely right. I'm just one pony. But, orders are orders-- and politics are politics.” I focused my attention on Princess Twilight. “Now that you've earned your wings, you've got to look the part.”
“I don't look like a princess?” She said, and self-consciously wiped scone crumbs from the corner of her mouth.
“But she's got the wings and everything!” The pink pony tugged at one of Twilight's wings, stretching it out to its full length. I had to admit, the Princess had a quite ... impressive wingspan.*
*For the two thirds of the audience who cannot fly, it's worth noting that wings and plumage have long been used as benchmarks for physical beauty (and sometimes fertility) in traditional pegasus culture.**
“Yes.” I looked away from the Princess' pinions before it would be impolite. “She certainly does. But where are the courtiers? The advisors? The staff? For better or worse, there are some ponies who simply won't follow princess who isn't, well, princessy enough. My assignment here is meant to assuage those more conservative sorts-- you're just lucky it's only me they've sent, and not a full regiment.”
**There is, Professor Fresian, such a thing as too much context.
“I-I- guess you're right.” Princess Twilight fidgeted a little bit. “It's just that I don't know what to do with a bodyguard.”
I waved a hoof, idly. “You're not supposed to do anything-- at least, nothing that you wouldn't be doing anyway. It just falls on my shoulders to keep you safe while you're doing it. Though to be honest, with what you've accomplished on your own so far, I imagine I'll mostly be standing around just for show.”
“Oh! Oh! Oh! I know what we should do!” The pink pony said. “We should have a party! Everypony who comes to Ponyville should get a 'Welcome to Ponyville' Party! Especially when we've got a big fancy hero who's here to help out!” She began to vibrate with excitement at the prospect of an impromptu celebration.
“Please. There's no need to trouble yourself on my account.” I said.
“Yes. Yes there is.” The pink pony said with eye-narrowed vehemence.
“It'll be easier if you just let Pinkie Pie throw you a party.” Princess Twilight said with a wry grin. “Don't worry, it won't be any trouble at all. Not to mention it'll give you a chance to meet, well ... everybody, I guess. Can't really bodyguard me if you don't know the ponies in town, right?”
Ah, I realized, there it was. The ol' Flashy charm was working its wonders already, and Princess Twilight was already making excuses to spend time with me. Apparently, Bon Bon's intelligence on Princess Twilight's predilections was correct. For the first time since Carrot Top dragged me into the mad scheme, I found myself thinking that it just might work. All I had to do was stand around and look handsome for the Princess, distracting her long enough for the others to pull off their parts of the plan. And once I had my hooves on a cask of Chateau de Cheval, I'd just let Princess Twilight down easy with some noble nonsense about being torn between love and duty, and I could quietly get myself reassigned somewhere other than North Yakyakistan. Easy.
Or so I thought.
While the Palace of Friendship was sorely lacking in both staff and guards, it at least had a well-stocked larder. Within a matter of hours, Pinkie Pie laid out a frankly stunning array of snacks, not to mention a surprisingly well stocked bar. And that's before one gets into the decorations, the invitations, the sound system-- I'd seen military operations pulled off with less precision.
Though as Pinkie Pie laid out her plans, I could see Bon Bon's influence as well. None other than Vinyl Scratch was there to provide musical entertainment (through a frankly ridiculous battery of sound equipment), and somewhere in all the commotion I heard Ditzy Do chirp “Special delivery!” before Twilight waved her off to set her package somewhere out of the way.
By nightfall, the entire population of Ponyville had crowded into the Palace of Friendship's central ballroom, laughing and drinking and dancing. Ponyville was such a quiet little hamlet that the residents no doubt took any excuse they could to have a party and distract themselves from their otherwise dreary agrarian lives. Apart from some small talk and polite hoofshakes, most of Ponyville paid me no heed. While perhaps not the most flattering of circumstances for my ego, at least it gave me enough room to carry out my 'mission.' Even someone as charming and handsome as I wouldn't be able to woo Princess Twilight with a gaggle of toadies and hangers-on surrounding me.
Which isn't to say it was easy. Princess Twilight was understandably more popular than I was, which meant she was nearly constantly surrounded by at least two or three of her hoofmaidens, ranging from an elegant-looking unicorn with perfectly coiffed mane, to a burly earth pony in a cowboy hat who probably would've been a better pick for Twilight's bodyguard than I was. But I was patient, and soon enough, Princess Twilight's friends left her alone for just a moment, and that's when I swooped in. Literally.
I took to the air, and scooped up two flutes of champagne from the bar before alighting in front of Princess Twilight.
“Flash!” She blurted, and then covered her mouth with one hoof. “I mean, um, it's a pleasure to see you, Lieutenant.” The Princess wore a plain, yellow dress of conservative cut-- honestly something more suitable for a schoolteacher than royalty.*
*There's no reason one cannot be both.
“And it's a pleasure to be here.” I foisted a glass of bubbly onto the princess. “Ponyville's just such an interesting place.” I lied.
“Isn't it? When Princess Celestia first sent me here, I thought it would be super boring, compared to Canterlot, but since I got here, I've met the best friends I've ever had! Plus, you know, the whole 'saving the world' thing. And, uh, becoming a princess, too.” She fluttered her wings for a moment, and then pulled them closer against her sides.
“Sounds like you've been busy.”
“Oh, definitely! Like the saying goes, idle hooves are Discord's playthings. Which, uh, may have some literal truth to it, because there was this one time where Discord-- well, um, it's actually kind of gruesome –but it's okay because that was in the past and Discord is our friend now. Ostensibly. But apart from that one time he brought an ooze monster to the Grand Galloping Gala he's actually been pretty good. Mostly good. Ish.”
“Of course.” I paused, and looked over my shoulder. “You, er, didn't invite Discord, did you?”
“Nope.” Twilight said, giving a relieved sigh of her own. “He's on vacation, so things should be nice and quiet. Or, well, as quiet as things get around Ponyville. Sometimes it seems that there's some new problem every week-- some new monster crawls out of the Everfree, or a rogue sorcerer rolls through town, or somepony starts messing around with ancient and unpredictable magic ... I, uh, may have done that last one once or twice myself. Like the time I experimented with time travel but it worked out in the end because I managed to create a closed-causality loop, instead of branching off an entirely new timeline and--” her ears splayed back for a moment as the realization hit her. “I'm just babbling at this point, aren't I?”
“It's fine.” I lied again. Only through my years of experience at bluffing did I keep a straight face. As Princess Twilight listed the strange and arcane horrors that the quiet little town of Ponyville had to offer, my guts twisted in uneager anticipation. No wonder Princess Celestia had sent her favorite student here-- the town was a deathtrap, and the only thing keeping it standing was a little purple mare of untold arcane power.
And now, her 'bodyguard.'
Right then, I reached the logical conclusion. I needed to woo Princess Twilight as quickly as possible, allowing Bon Bon's plan to continue as quickly as possible, which meant I could get out of Ponyville as quickly as possible. With any luck, the whole affair could be wrapped up before the next disaster struck, and I'd be expected to protect Princess Twilight from a rampaging demigorgon or what have you. It was time for decisive action.
“Princess Twilight, may I have this dance?”
The Princess' cheeks went scarlet, sure as if someone had flipped a switch. She looked down at her hooves for a moment, and then back up at me. “I- I'd like that very much, Lieutenant.”
I offered a gallant hoof, and the two of us trotted over to the dance floor. We passed a clump of Princess Twilight's friends along the way-- the five of them watched us with rapt attention, and murmured amongst themselves. I ignored them, and kept my attention focused on Princess Twilight Sparkle.
Vinyl Scratch waved to me from atop her sound-system fortress, and put on a fresh record. Immediately, the speakers started blaring out a fast-paced track that sounded like nothing so much as an electric keyboard being flung down a flight of stairs.
“Oh, I love this song!” Princess Twilight's initial shyness gave way to girlish enthusiasm as the eardrum-punishing beat throbbed through the ballroom.
That's when she tried to kill me.
Not on purpose, mind you. But the arrhythmic flailing that Princess Twilight launched into definitely ranks as one of the more harrowing experiences I've endured. For a moment, I thought she was having a seizure as she threw her legs out in all directions. The Princess kept her eyes shut as she 'danced,' forcing me to duck and dodge with a prizefighter's footwork to avoid getting kicked in the head. The worst part was, I couldn't face Princess Twilight in the same way I would deal with 'normal' combatant (i.e: running away). The entire dance floor had cleared out within moments, and the crowd watched the two of us from a theoretically safe distance. Even in a backwater like Ponyville, I knew the reputation-sinking rumors would start flowing if I were to do something so crass as run out on Princess Twilight Sparkle. On top of that, I didn't fancy explaining to Carrot Top how I'd screwed up the 'easy' part of the plan. After an excruciatingly indeterminable length of time, the pounding beat of the song subsided, and Princess Twilight's nigh epileptic gyrations followed suit.*
*While this passage is certainly unflattering, I insisted it be left in the text. To censor an academic work would be a crime against the greater truth, and more a stain on my reputation than anything Flash Sentry could reveal. In fact, I welcome Flash Sentry's viewpoint, as it is a good reminder that, despite Princesshood, I'm not perfect. I'm just another pony with the same quirks and foibles as anypony else. Though I'm not that bad of a dancer.
Anymore.
“Wow!” Princess Twilight's sides heaved. “That was exhilarating.”
“I'll say.” I wiped a sheen of cold sweat from my forehead.
To her credit, Vinyl Scratch must have seen my harried expression, as she soon swapped records, and put on a far slower, far more civilized string instrumental. I perked my ears, and picked up a familiar few bars-- ah, that was more like it.
“Princess,” I said, “you don't happen to know the Winged Waltz, do you?”
And there was the shy, girlish blush again. “No.” She said, voice small.
“Well.” I favored the Princess with another rakish grin. “I can teach you, if you'd like?”
“I- I'd like that.”
“Just follow my lead.”
There's an old saying about the waltz: four became three, so two could become one. The waltz is easily the most romantic of dances, and when one or the other of the dancers has wings (usually the one taking lead), it allows the opportunity to literally dance on air. On top of that, not only does a proper waltz (airborne or otherwise) offer a couple an excuse to remain in close contact, but it's also got enough of a high-class veneer to make one look past the occasional wandering hoof. Not that my hooves were wandering, mind you. With the whole of Ponyville watching, I was the perfect gentlecolt.
Even still, Princess Twilight held me tighter.
The waltz wound down, and I eased Princess Twilight back down to the floor. The Princess fluttered her wings, and took a step back, suddenly realizing just how close we were.
“So ... that was the Winged Waltz?” Princess Twilight's voice quavered, just slightly.
“It was.” I said. Our eyes met for a moment, lingering in one of those magical little moments--
“WOO TWILIGHT! GETCHA SOME!” The pink party planner pony yelled from the other side of the dance floor.
“Pinkie!” Princess Twilight said, aghast. She facehooved, and looked back to me, expression pleading and apologetic. “I'm sorry, Flash-- my friends can be a little too supportive, sometimes.”
“It's fine.” I said. At the edge of the dance floor, one of Princess Twilight's friends fainted dead away in embarrassment, while the other three piled onto the pink one and dragged her away before she could offer any more 'encouragement.' “But maybe we should continue this conversation somewhere a little quieter?”
“Quiet. Right.” Princess Twilight nodded decisively. “I know just the place.”
Her horn began to glow, and before I could get a word in edgewise, the whole world blinked away. I instinctively held a hoof up against the magical glare, and by the time my vision cleared, the dance floor (and everypony on it) was gone. Princess Twilight was still there, though, smiling. “This was the quietest place I can think of.”
I looked over Princess Twilight's shoulder, and picked out the bookshelves behind her. At least, I presumed they were bookshelves-- it was hard to tell with the room spinning and all.
“A library?” I said, more than a little dazed.
“My Library.” Princess Twilight said with no small degree of pride. “It's the most comprehensive collection of magical texts outside of Canterlot, and it's not too shabby in most other subjects, too. Can I show you around?”
“If you like?” I took a step to follow her, and promptly fell over.
“Oh!” Princess Twilight immediately started fretting and fussing over me. “I'm sorry! I forget how disorienting a point to point teleport can be for someone who's never done one before. Passing through a pinhole-fold in spacetime can really do a number on your inner ear if you're not expecting it.”
“I've had worse.” I said, in what was probably the most truthful thing I've ever said to Princess Twilight.
“I'm sorry!” Princess Twilight nervously bounced from hoof to hoof. “It's my fault-- I shouldn't have teleported you without asking! It's ... it's not presumptuous to teleport on a first date, is it?”
“I wouldn't know.” I said, and finally got back to my feet.
“Oh.” Princess Twilight said. “You ... you've never been on a date before either?”
“I- what?”
“It's okay! I know what it's like to be so busy that you don't get the opportunity to hit certain social benchmarks at commonly accepted times. I mean, who's got the time to go out on dates when the world needs saving, right? Though, uh, technically I may have been on a date before but then there was this thing with a misguided sorceress who turned herself into a demon but everything worked out in the end. Except for the date. But now we're here! And, uh ... that kind of reminds me of something.”
“Oh?” I said, having mostly cleared my head of its post-teleporation fog.
“Flash, can I ask you a question? Or, uh, I just did, ha-ha, but can I ask you another question? Or really, uh, several questions?”
“Feel free.”
“Don't worry! I won't ask anything too personal. I mean, we just met! Well, except for the times we literally bumped into each other in the Crystal Empire and that's not a big deal because I bump into ponies all the time. Guess I should watch where I'm going, right?”
“Right.” I said.
“But, um. The question! That is, uh-- Flash, you don't play guitar, do you?”
I blinked, and shook my head. “Can't say that I do.”
“Oh, okay. And, uh, I'm guessing you don't have a car, either.”
“A car? As in part of a train? Not on a royal guard's salary.”
“Oh!” Twilight facehooved. “Of course, the techno-linguistic context here is completely different, and--” she pulled in a bracing breath, and looked up at me. “How much do you know about dimensional physics?” She inched closer to me, and I realized that the academic question was the closest thing she could manage to a pick up line.
“I honestly haven't given much thought to it. Never had much of a head for magic.”
“Oooo-kay.” Princess Twilight scratched the back of her neck. “So, uh ... what if I told you there was another world with another you in it and I went to that world and kinda-sorta dated other-you but then I had to come back only to meet you-you? I mean, you're a completely different person, but you're still Flash Sentry, just a little ... different, you know?”
“Princess,” I said, slowly. “Just how much champagne have you had tonight?”
“Only a little bit!” Princess Twilight blurted. “But all of this makes sense in context, I promise!”
“I'll take your word for it?”
“I never should have told you.” Princess Twilight's whole body drooped in dejection. “I mean ... you're obviously not Flash Sentry-- or, uh, the Flash Sentry I met and danced with and technically dated in another dimension. But you look like him, and you sound like him, and, and ... this is going to require further research.”
Princess Twilight turned for the bookshelves, but I stopped her with a gentle hoof on her shoulder.
“Wait.” I said, soft but stern. “I know I'm not the ... other pony, in this other dimension.” And a good thing, too-- as if there was another Flash Sentry out there, I knew he'd be as much of a cad and a bounder as I was. “But who cares? I mean, you're here, I'm here ... why don't we just take things slowly? Just get aquainted, enjoy each others' company, that sort of thing?”
Princess Twilight turned back to me, and her lips curled into a nervous but genuine smile. “You're right. It's not fair to compare you to a version of yourself you didn't even know existed until now. But ... I'd like to get to know this dimension's Flash better, if that's alright?”
“I'd like nothing more than that, Princess.”
“Please. Call me Twilight.” The Princess smiled, and then, in what was no doubt a monumental feat of courage for the poor filly, she closed her eyes, puckered her lips, and planted a fleeting, chaste kiss upon my cheek. The smooch was so quick, so light that I barely even noticed the contact.
“Yes!” Princess Twilight said, and took a step back-- only to glance at me with a shocked and apologetic expression. “I mean- no! I mean-- ugh, it's complicated, but can you help me get out of this dress?”
“P-pardon?” Under normal circumstances, those were the sort of words were the sort of thing I'd hope (nay, expect) to hear from a lovely mare so justifiably smitten by my dashing good looks. But, standing there in Princess Twilight's library, I could already feel an icy Yakyakistan winter gnawing at my bones. So I did the first thing that I could think of: I lied. Outrageously. “Forgive me, Princess, but I was raised in a somewhat ... conservative family. And while you're an absolutely lovely mare, perhaps we should take things a little more slowly?”
“There's no time!” Princess Twilight said-- and, without further ado, she hiked up her skirts to a scandalous degree, at which point she turned her head to look at her own rump. Which, I should add, was glowing, as her cutie mark blinked in little patterns like those fancy lights ponies put on Hearth's Warming trees nowadays. “It's the cutie map! I knew it!”
“The what?” I said, blinking in perplexion.
“I'll show you!” Princess Twilight's horn glowed again, and before I could get in a word of protest, there was another blinding strobe of magic, and the stomach-churning sensation of being zapped from one place to another. The second teleport was worse than the first-- I staggered as my physical form returned to reality, and blundered into a high-backed chair with apples etched into it for some reason. When my vision cleared, I thought Princess Twilight brought us to Cloudsdale, as I could see nearly all of Equestria laid out in miniature below me. It took me a moment, but I eventually realized that we weren't in Cloudsdale (the warmer temperature and lack of other pegusai being key indicators). Instead, the large circular table in the center of the room held an impossibly detailed rendering of Equestria in miniature.
And, on the opposite side of the table, a glowing emblem of Princess Twilight's cutie mark blinked insistently above a small (but still intimidatingly jagged) black mountain. A crude rendering of a dragon's head in green and purple soon flickered to life beside Princess Twilight's cutie mark, and the Princess herself gasped.
“Spike!” she said-- and as if on cue, the little baby dragon came pattering in on his stubby little legs. And, sure enough, his scales were blinking in the same rhythm that Princess Twilight's bum did. As soon as the little dragon burst in, I immediately began to concoct a perfectly reasonable and not at all scandalous explanation as to why Princess Twilight's dress was in disarray, and why I had a rather bewildered look on my face. Thankfully, Spike was entirely too distracted by the blinking of the map to realize just how indecent Princess Twilight and I looked.
“I ran here as fast as I could!” Spike said, breathless. He put his little claws on the edge of the table and stood on his tiptoes to get a better look at the map. “Are we going to where I think we're going?”
“That's right, Spike! We're going to the Dragon Lands! Go ahead and get our hot air balloon ready, and I'll grab some books from the library that might help.” Gone was the blushing, lovestruck filly who'd kissed me moments before-- this was a young but decisive Princess, quite literally in her element. “I'll meet you in the main hall!”
“Got it!” Spike said, and zipped off the way he came.
“Ah, Princess?” I ventured. “Just ... what's happening?”
“Flash! Ah!” Princess Twilight spun around to face me. “I'm sorry, I almost forgot about you.The dancing and talking was really fun, and I'd like to do it again sometime, but But, you know what they say 'Friendship Emergencies wait for no pony.' Or, well, they don't say it, but I do. Still, there's something really important going in on the Dragon Lands, and it's my responsibility as Princess of Friendship to see what it is. You can stick around for the rest of the party, if you like? But, um, excuse me-- I'd better get to the library. Time's wasting!”
And with that, Princess Twilight disappeared in another burst of magic-- one that she thankfully didn't drag me along for. I stood there for a few seconds, mildly bewildered at the latest turn of events. Even in the short time I'd spent with Princess Twilight Sparkle, I'd learned one key thing: just standing around her was exhausting. No wonder she didn't have any palace staff-- it'd be impossible to keep a proper routine going when it was constantly being interrupted by destinies or monster attacks or what have you. With the scent of singed ozone still lingering in the air, I reached an obvious conclusion.
I needed a drink.
I left the library, and headed back towards the ballroom. I didn't know the layout of the palace very well, but it was easy enough to follow the sounds of music and laughter. Apparently, the party had continued in my (and in Princess', I suppose) absence. Not like there was much else to do in Ponyville, anyway.
“How did it go?” Carrot Top emerged from a lurking spot behind a pillar and fell into step beside me.
I bit back a yelp of alarm, and forced a smile. “Oh, uh. Well enough?”
Carrot Top arched a brow.
“I mean, the Princess seems ... fond of me. But, ah, you should know, things didn't have the time to, er, progress, if you get my meaning. Princess Twilight, proper lady she is, prefers to take things slow, you know. And then she started glowing and going on about something called a 'Friendship Emergency' and here we are.”
“Glowing.” Carrot Top said.
“You know that I know better than to lie to you.” I said.
Carrot Top's laughed, softly, and patted me on the shoulder. “No, I believe you. If Princess Twilight's glowing, that just means everything's going to plan.”
“What? How?”
“It's simple. Princess Twilight, as Princess of Friendship, is obligated to fix friendship problems. The Cutie Map, in turn, tells Twilight Sparkle where friendship problems are.”
“So what, you've used your espionage expertise to get two best friends to go to Spitespire and start yelling at each other hard enough to make Princess Twilight's flank start glowing?”
“It came to mind, but no. We went for a more ... direct approach, instead.”
“Direct? Are you saying--”
“That's right.” Carrot Top said, smirking. “We hacked the Cutie Map.”
By this point, I'm certain that you, dear reader, have gotten a good feel for Flash Sentry's penchant for exaggeration, if not hyperbole (his passage regarding my dancing skills, for example). Really, the term 'reliably unreliable' is a good fit for Flash's memoirs. Even with this in mind, I feel the need to provide some valuable context.
The Cutie Map is an incredibly complex and potent font of magic-- I won't go into the inner workings here (though interested readers can turn to my many texts on the subject, starting with On Friendship) but it goes without saying that one cannot trivially 'hack' the Cutie Map. Given Flash's own complete lack of knowledge (or interest) in high magics, it's unsurprising that he does not go into the exact arcane details necessary for a proper scientific analysis.
Still, based on the scant information provided here, the most logical conclusion is that Carrot Top & Co. did not 'hack' the Cutie Map at all, but instead replicated the surface effects of the Cutie Map through carefully timed uses of illusion magic.*
*Alternately, is it possible that the events Sentry describes were meant to happen? If the Cutie Map is such an advanced and un-hack-able artifact, it stands to reason that it was operating exactly as intended. **
**On second thought, Lyra did attend Canterlot University (my own alma mater), so such a feat might not be entirely impossible, however difficult it might be.
“Oh, that's good.” I said. “Now what?”
“Now, we just watch. Come on.” Carrot Top said, and led me to the main ballroom.
By the time we got there, Vinyl Scratch had switched to a softer, lower-key soundtrack, allowing the celebration to wind down. Ponies began to slink off-- either in pairs, or singly (no doubt wishing they were part of a pair), or sometimes in larger groups, depending on how many ponies it took to carry their nigh-comatose friend out. Thankfully, nopony seemed to notice me returning to the ballroom in the company of a completely different mare.
The generally sedate atmosphere was interrupted, of course, by Princess Twilight Sparkle. While I'd barely known her for a few hours, I'd already realized the term 'high strung' was something of an understatement.
Princess Twilight materialized in the center of the ballroom-- my stomach in turn did its best to turn itself inside-out as I was reminded that teleportation magic existed. Nobody saw me turn a shade of green, however, as all eyes were on the Princess.
“Everypony, I have an important announcement to make!” Princess Twilight took a moment to adjust her book-stuffed saddlebags, and turned to the thinning crowd. “I hate to run out on you guys so soon, but I just found out that Spike and I have a very important Friendship Problem to take care of.”
And you know, the ponies left in the ballroom applauded. Ponyville is a strange place, let me tell you.
“Unfortunately, the Friendship Problem is all the way in the Dragon Lands, even, so it may take us just a little bit to get everything squared away.”
“Twilight!” Spike came pattering back in, looking more nervous than usual.
“Ready to go, Spike?” Princess Twilight beamed.
“No! We're not! It's the balloon!” Spike began to run literal circles around the Princess, flailing his arms in the air. “A bunch of rats or mice or something got into it and chewed our balloon to pieces! The basket, the canvas, the lines-- everything!”
“What?” Princess Twilight gasped. “But ... how? Wait, no, it doesn't matter-- I ... agh, Fluttershy!” Princess Twilight said with something approaching regal authority. A pink-haired pegasus in turn glided over on unsteady wings.
“Yes?” Fluttershy said.
“Can you take care of this rodent thing while I'm gone?”
“Oh, of course! The poor teensy rats probably didn't know what they were doing-- they've just got to chew on things to keep their widdle little incisors sharp, and I bet your balloon basket just tasted really good and they couldn't help themselves.”
“Just, uh, keep them away from the library, please?”
“Now, Spike, we're going to have to find another way to get to the Dragon Lands-- it's too far to fly-- and even then, I wouldn't be able to carry you and the books I'll need.” She fretted from hoof to hoof, impatient. “Alright, so, we'll just write a letter to Princess Celestia and ask her to send us an airship-- or at least a pegasus-chariot to meet us at a designated rendezvous point. Which may be a little tricky, timing-wise, especially on such short notice, but I'm sure Princess Celestia will understand, given the circumstances.”
“Right!” Spike said, “Lemme get a pen!”
“Perhaps, Princess, there's another alternative to your particularly perplexing predicament?” Flim Flimflam emerged from a small throng of ponies, as smoothly as if he were on roller skates.
“Why, if only there were a pair or recently reformed raconteurs ready to render relief to royalty!” Flam Flimflam slid in from the opposite side, in the sort of precise maneuver that the average military officer (which is to say: somepony who took their job more seriously than I did) could only dream of.
“Flam? Flim?” Princess Twilight looked inbetween the pair. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, you invited the whole town to your schindig here!”
“And we, while not residents of Ponyville, happened to be passing through.”
“Ipso-facto, my brother and I were invited!”
“And a good thing, too, as the Flimflam brothers are here to solve your problem, just as good friends do!”
To her credit, Princess Twilight eyed the two be-boatered unicorns with slight suspicion. “Unless you two have an airship hidden somewhere, I'm not sure what you can do.”
“An airship, she says!” said Flim.
“Hidden somewhere!” said Flam.
“Well Princess, I'm afraid I have to tell you you're only half right. As my brother and I do happen to have an airship in our possession, though it's certainly not hidden!”
“Why would we even want to hide it, anyway? The good ship Interlocutor is the finest airship to ever spin a propeller!”
“Indeed-- she sails as fast as the wind, and as smooth as the clouds!”
“And she's parked right outside!” Flam's horn glowed, and he pulled back some curtains-- all the better to reveal the sleek (and freshly painted) air-cutter anchored outside.
“That's destiny for you, Princess!” Flam chimed in. “You see, my brother Flim and I were about to set off on our newest creative endeavor-- 'Strings Across Equestria.'” He threw one hoof around the Princess' shoulders, and made a sweeping gesture with the other.
Flam mirrored his brother, draping himself over Princess Twilight's other shoulder. “It's simple! We're taking some of Equestria's finest musicians-- such as Ponyville's very own Lyra and Octavia –and going on tour to lands far and wide, all the better to spread ideas of friendship and magic and other feel-good whatnots.”
“And, as it would just so happen, our planned tour takes us rather close to the Dragon Lands.” Flim said. “It won't be any trouble at all to get you to where you want to go!”
“And, as it would just so happen, there's just enough room on the Interlocutor for you and your dragon and your bodyguard.” Flam noted.
Princess Twilight blinked, and then wriggled out from between the Flimflam brothers. “Oh! Uh, while that's very kind of the both of you, I'm not sure if any of this is necessary ... “ Whether she was talking about the airship or my presence on it, I couldn't say.
Still, Carrot Top none-too-subtly pushed me forward, and I snapped to attention, realizing the role I had to play. I cleared my throat, put on a soldierly face, and stepped forward. “I'm afraid it is, Princess. I simply cannot allow you to go to the Dragon Lands unescorted.” Under normal circumstances, the thought of visiting the Dragon Lands would have set my hooves to shaking, but the alternative of not escorting Princess Twilight was even more terrifying.
“Unescorted?” Princess Twilight shook her head. “I can handle myself, thank you very much.”
“I don't doubt that, Princess Twilight-- but just as you have your duty to the Cutie Map, I've got my own oaths to uphold.” A load of nonsense, that, but I'd had plenty of experience in puffing myself up and acting noble. And then, just to cap it off, I allowed myself faintly roguish smile. “Besides, I'd rather fly along with you on the airship than have to follow along behind. I'd probably pull a wing by the time we got to Dragonland.”
“The Dragon Lands.” Princess Twilight blushed even as she corrected me-- the ol' Flashy charm worked its magic once again.
“Wherever.” I said.
“Alright, fine. It's not like I have the time to argue anyway.” Princess Twilight shook her head. “Flim--”
“I'm Flam.”
“Sorry, Flam-- how long will it take to get the Interlocutor up and running?”
“We can have her airworthy in just under an hour, Princess!”
“Which should give us just enough time to load up the rest of our musicians and their gear!” Flim chimed in. This done, he put a hoof to his mouth and whistled shrilly. At the signal, Vinyl Scratch nodded from her little tower of sound equipment, and immediately set about unplugging cables and packing up turntables in a final indicator of the party's conclusion. “So, whaddya say, Princess? You ready to fly with the Flimflams, or have we got to sing a song about it, first?”
“No-- no time for a song.” Princess Twilight said, and Flam gave a disappointed grumble as he put away the banjo he'd produced from somewhere. “You've convinced me-- so go ahead and get packed, everypony-- we're going to the Dragon Lands!” With her unbridled enthusiasm (no doubt helped along by a flute or two of champagne), Princess Twilight made a magically mandated trip to a potentially active volcano full of greedy dragons sound almost like something fun.
The Interlocutor had room for all eleven of us (which is to say, myself, Carrot Top, Bon Bon, Lyra, Octavia, Vinyl Scratch, Flim, Flam, Ditzy Do, Princess Twilight Sparkle, and Spike), if just barely. The airship chugged along at a decent pace, and once Princess Twilight realized there was nothing we could do to get to the Dragon Lands any faster, she retired to her cabin to study the piles of books and maps she'd brought along with her. At least her rump had stopped glowing, which I assumed was a good thing.
I spent most of my time at the bow of the Interlocutor, partly for the breeze in my feathers, and partly because it was the only place aboard I didn't have to worry about someone tripping over me. Carrot Top must have had the same idea, as she came to visit me at my perch on a semi regular basis. I imagine she just brought the bottle of apple brandy to be polite.
“Remind me,” I took a moment to look down the deck of the Interlocutor to make sure neither Princess Twilight nor her little dragon weren't within listening distance (they weren't). “What's your cover story, again? I mean, it's not like you're a musician.”
Carrot Top took a swig of brandy, and leaned against the airship's railing. “I am a musician, actually. Or, well, I at least know a little bit about violin, and I can fake the rest.”
“Why, Miss Top, that sounds suspiciously like something I would say. Have I been a bad influence?” I took the bottle and had a sip of the sweet stuff.
“Don't flatter yourself, Sentry.” Carrot Top smiled as she said it.
“Someone's got to. Flatter me, that is.”
“We both have better things to worry about.”
“Don't remind me.” I groaned. “I'm sure any minute now, we'll have to deal with--”
“Dragons!” Ditzy Do swooped in from where she'd been sitting atop the Interlocutor's airbag. I wondered if having her eyes skewed in different directions made her a better lookout. “Coming in at ten o'clock!”
“And here it's not even noon yet.” Oh sure, I knew the proper military terminology, but some jokes simply must be told.
Carrot Top showed her appreciation with a roll of her eyes, and got to her hooves. “I'd better get the Princess.” With that, she ran across the deck and disappeared through the doorway to Princess Twilight's cabin.
It was only once Carrot Top left that the reality (and subsequent terror) of the situation set in. A great gust of wind rocked the Interlocutor, forcing me to flap my own wings a few times to keep myself standing. The early-afternoon sun suddenly went dark, as a reptile easily half-again as long as the Interlocutor passed overhead. The blue scaled beast beat its wings again and came to a hover in front of our airship. There were a few faint cries of dismay from elsewhere on the ship, but at that moment all I could hear was my own suddenly racing heartbeat as I found myself literally nose to nose with a peeved looking dragon.
“Ponies?” The dragon's upper lip curled back to reveal row upon row of dagger-sharp fangs. “Good. I'm hungry.” The dragon had a laugh like a cement mixer full of gravel. A forked tongue flickered over scaly lips, and those jaws opened terribly, terribly wide.
Over the course of my career, nearly every apex carnivore you can think of has tried to eat me-- everything from manticores to sea serpents to the kinds of extradimensional abominations with more punctuation in their proper names than vowels. But of all of those harrowing experiences, I have to say staring down the gullet of an angry dragon was easily the worst. There's the flesh-rending teeth, of course, and the slimy gobbets of saliva dripping down from them. The worst part, though, is the hellish, fiery glow at the back of their throat, lighting the dragon's whole mouth up like the world's angriest fireplace. Dragons must be the only creatures in all creation that cook their food after eating it.
Such a terrible sight would be enough to unnerve even the stoutest-hearted pony, so it goes without saying that I was reduced to a terrified trembling. In fact, my whole body shook so hard that I soon lost my grip on the bottle of apple brandy Carrot Top had left me. The bottle sailed through the air-- and into the dragon's mouth. The glass shattered on the dragon's dentistry, at which point the highly-alcoholic liquid touched the flame at the back of the dragon's throat and ignited.*
The dragon's eyes went wide in surprise, and the overgrown salamander started hacking and coughing and clutching at its neck. It was certainly an improvement on its 'ready to eat me' status before.
*While dragons are known for their fire breathing, the act itself requires no small degree of effort to align the more fireproof parts of their mouth to protect more vulnerable areas such as the tongue. A sudden, unexpected burst of flame (much less that provided by an accelerant such as highly flammable brandy) could be quite painful to a dragon, as my friend and assistant Spike can attest. Dragon hiccups are no laughing matter.
“Don't hurt him!” Princess Twilight swooped in alongside me.
“I'm fine, Princess.” I got my shakes under control just in time to look the proper hero.
“I was talking to you.” Princess Twilight snapped, hard enough to make me flinch. “How are we going to solve this Friendship Emergency if you start fighting with every Dragon you see?”
“I-- what?” I sputtered.
Princess Twilight sighed. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't be mad. You're just trying to protect me ... whether I need it or not. But we're not going to get anywhere like this. According to the Codex Draconica, the Bluescale clan has traditionally protected the borders of the Dragon Lands for thousands of years.”
“According to the whatnow?” I said, bewildered. Here an enormous reptile was readying itself to eat me, and Princess Twilight's first instinct was to quote her bibliography. It was the sort of thing that made hanging around Special Agent Golden Harvest seem safe in comparison. At least she brought me liquor.
“What. Do. You. Want.” The Bluescale dragon, still with smoke wafting up from the corners of its mouth, loomed up in front of the bow again.
“Oh, hello!” Princess Twilight waved a blithe hoof at the dragon. “My name is Twilight Sparkle, and my friends and I are on a very important Friendship Mission. I'm sorry for the misunderstanding-- and, the, uh, molotov-ing, but the important thing is that we all just settle down and talk it out like civilized beings.”
“Talk.” The dragon rumbled.
“I know it's rather unprecedented,” Princess Twilight went on, either appealingly brave or astoundingly clueless, “but ancient Draconian law dictates that any dragon may enter the Dragon Lands, in the company of their, uh ... entourage. And as it would just so happen, there's a dragon on this Friendship Mission too!”
“Hi! I'm Spike!” The little dragon stepped up beside Princess Twilight (making the bowspirit increasingly crowded) and puffed his chest out. “You might have heard of me? I'm friends with Dragon Lord Ember, you know. Kind of a big deal.”
“Ember?” snorted the Bluescale, and there went another rumbling laugh. “If you think that name means anything here, you're on your own, whelp. Spitespire's that way.” With one last, derisive snort of smoke, the dragon turned about in midair and flew off.
“See?” Princess Twilight said, turning to me with a too-proud smile. “We're making progress already! Never underestimate the power of diplomacy.”
As we approached Spitespire, more dragons, each more hideous than the last, came to investigate us. They kept their distance, despite (or perhaps because of) Spike and Princess Twilight's enthusiastic greetings.
The Spitespire itself was remarkably similar to any small city in Equestria-- only with dragons in lieu of ponies, and a slightly more acrid smell. As the Interlocutor came in for a landing, one could make out the sight of shops and houses (or at least the draconian equivalents thereof). Between them, dragons of every shape and size went about their business, with only slightly more snapping and growling than a typical Manehattan rush hour. And, sure enough, a jagged mass of black granite was at the center of it all, complete with thin columns of smoke wafting up from cracks in the rock.
The Interlocutor touched down at the edge of the city, at which point Bon Bon and Carrot Top hopped over the side, bringing anchor lines with them to secure the airship in place. By the time everything was in order, several dragons had circled around to peer at us with varying expressions of curiosity and wariness.
I briefly wondered what you were supposed to call a bunch of dragons: a flock? A mayhem? A conflagration?*
*The proper term is 'A Flight of Dragons.'
Whatever the official term was, I decided I didn't like it. Just one dragon had been enough to rattle me, and the sight of so many of them hissing and snorting and swaying their serpentine necks had every muscle in my body just twitching in desire to flee. Not that I did-- or could, for that matter. Sure, Carrot Top might've known how overinflated my heroic reputation was, but the other ponies (particularly Princess Twilight) didn't, so all I could do was stand and look grim as a few dozen tons of firebreathing reptiles glared at us.
“Hello!” Princess Twilight walked down the boarding ramp, friendly and regal and otherwise too pleasant for her surroundings. “I am Princess Twilight Sparkle, and I'm honored to visit the Spitespire. My friends and I have been sent here on a very important Friendship Mission, so I'm looking forward to making friends with each and every one of you.”
The dragons didn't say anything.
“If I may, Princess--” Flim clattered down the boarding ramp and put a hoof on Princess Twilight's shoulder. “Might my brother and I offer a slightly ... different approach?”
“What do you have in mind?” Princess Twilight said.
Flim winked to the Princess. “Just sit back and enjoy the show. We'll take care of the rest.
“Ladies and Gentledrakes!” Flam's voice boomed through a megaphone he'd acquired from somewhere. “May we have your attention, please!”
Flim pulled an identical megaphone out from under his hat. “We have come all the way from Equestria--”
“Braving storms!”
“And monsters!”
“And airline food!”
“And even more indignities and hardships that we dare not mention for the sake of good taste!”
“All to come here, to your ... lovely city, for the sake of your entertainment!”
“Consider yourselves lucky, my scaly friends, as some of the finest musicians in all of Equestria are here to perform for you! Behold!” Flim hauled back on a lever, and the side of the Interlocutor unfolded, revealing a portable stage, complete with a battery of amplifiers on either side.
“First up,” Flim said, “she's sweet, she's petite, and the way she plays her violin is exquis-eet! It's Carrot Top!”
Before I could contest any of Flim's statements (as honestly, I'd hardly call any pony who could snap a changeling's neck with her bare hooves 'petite'), Carrot Top walked out on the stage, carrying a violin. In a characteristically smooth movement, she put the instrument to her shoulder and sawed out a few bars. I'm no musician, but I have to admit she played decently enough.
I saw Vinyl Scratch push a few buttons on her soundboard at the side of the stage right before and Carrot Top put bow to string, and right afterward. Not a bad trick, that. But, despite the debatable authenticity of Carrot Top's performance, she at least looked the part, as the lights struck her frizzy mane at just the right angle to make it glow as brightly as any dragon's respiration. A little while later, Carrot Top stopped playing, and sketched a jaunty bow to the otherwise unimpressed crowd of dragons.
“But that's not all!” Flam took up megaphone again. “Because we've also brought Miss Lyra Heartstrings-- and the sound of her harp is sure to pull on yours!”
The green unicorn just smiled, and plucked out a trilling few notes on her harp (with far less 'technical assistance' from Vinyl Scratch, I might add). Her song was was oddly soothing, but her performance, being genuine, was far less interesting to watch. There was no sniffling or other sudden displays of emotion from the dragons-- in fact, they took the quieter interlude as an opportunity to murmur amongst themselves.
“And there's more!” Flim said, perhaps sensing the waning attention of the crowd. “As, in our headline act, we are proud and privileged to present, the greatest cellist-- nay, the greatest musician of our generation, the one, the only Octavia Philharmonic!”
The cellist herself trotted onto the stage-- some thoughtful unicorn (probably Lyra) at least telekinese'd a chair out for her to sit on. And with that, Octavia sat down and began to play. She kept her eyes closed, playing entirely by feel as her hooves danced across her cello. If I were a better sort, I'd start rhapsodizing on Octavia's transcendent skill and talent at musicianship-- but to be honest, the songs I most remember now in my old age tend to have bawdy lyrics. Even still, whatever Octavia did to her cello, it was enough to even impress the dragons.
“Did you hear that, brother of mine?” Flam said. Despite the ostensible 'conversation' between the two brothers, the two were still bellowing into their megaphones.
“Why yes, I certainly did!”
“Is it just me, or was that amazing?”
“Astounding!”
“Inspiring!”
“You know what the secret is, though?” Flim said, entirely ignoring the plausibility of any secrets discussed through maximum-volume yelling.
“What's that?”
“Not only is Miss Octavia the finest cellist in all of Equestria-- she's playing the finest instrument in all of Equestria!”
“Gasp!” Flam said the full word. “You don't mean--”
“I do! Mean, that is. As there is no instrument worthy of Miss Octavia than the best-- which is to say, a Stallionvarious! And not just any Stallionvarious, friend-- as Miss Octavia graces our eardrums with the sounds of the Secret Stallionvarious! For years, it was thought lost-- but now, this invaluable instrument has found its proper place in Miss Octavia's capable hooves!”
If Octavia's music hadn't gotten the dragons' attention, that certainly did. By the time she finished her song, the dragons were all watching with rapt attention-- though something told me they were more interested in the instrument than the pony holding it. There was even some brief, awkward applause as Octavia bowed and made her way off the stage.
“And that, friends, is just a taste of the entertainment to come!” Flim launched into his pitch.
“The real show starts at eight-o'clock sharp tonight!” Flam said.
“Come one, come all-- for just the low, low price of thirty bits--”
“--or an equivalent amount in raw gold or gems or what have you--”
“You shall be treated to an evening of excellent Equestrian entertainment!”
“Tickets are limited, so make sure you don't miss out!”
“We'll see you at the show!”
With that, the Flimflams doffed their hats and bowed, and damn if I didn't feel like applauding. The two were the most shameless charlatans I'd ever met, which I couldn't help but appreciate. Kindred spirits, and all that.
Princess Twilight, on the other hoof, was far less impressed, as she soon pulled one of the be-boatered unicorns aside.
“Flam--”
“I'm Flim.”
“Oh, sorry.” Princess Twilight said, apologetic one moment, only to launch back into her righteous annoyance. “Flim, I can't believe you! We've come all this way on an important Friendship Mission, and the first thing you and your brother do is try to sell tickets?”
“Try? No, we're not trying to sell tickets. There's already a line!” He nodded to the bottom of the gangplank, where, sure enough, Bon Bon and Ditzy Do had set up with table and cashbox, dispensing tickets to that evening's performance. “Semantics aside, Princess, we're just doing our part to help your Friendship Mission. If we gather a bunch of dragons in one place, it should be easy for you and your scaly little compatriot to find your Friendship Problem and take care of it!”
“That's ... almost a good idea, but we shouldn't be charging for it.”
“Ah, I respectfully disagree! For while you and I come from Equestria, where everypony knows that the best things in life are free, I'm afraid these Dragon Lands are much less enlightened. Why, I've heard that greed is wired into their very biology!”
“The hoarding instinct is something of a ... unique factor, yes.” Princess Twilight mused.
“Exactly! Which is why we have to charge admission, or else the dragons wouldn't be interested! In fact, we might even have to charge more for tickets to keep the dragons' attention!”
I kept my mouth shut and listened, admiring a master dissembler at work. It's a good thing the Flimflams never enlisted, as then I'd only be the Royal Guard's third most decorated scoundrel.
“That ... kind of makes sense?” Princess Twilight said. “But you'd better not get up to any funny business, or else I'll ... “ Princess Twilight trailed off, obviously unaccustomed to delivering threats (I supposed she just had her brother for that). Lucky for the Princess, she didn't have to complete her thought, as Ditzy Do zipped over from the ticket table.
“Princess?” The mailpony looked over her shoulder at the crowd of dragons, and then back to Princess Twilight. “A dragon came to deliver a message. He says that someone named Drake Diamondback wants to meet you.”
“See?” Flim chimed in. “We just got here, and you're already making friends. I told you this plan would work!”
Drake Diamondback's messenger was the most terrifying dragon I'd ever seen, which is saying something. Wicked scars from untold battles covered his green scales, the most notable of which was the stump where his left arm should have been. He made up for it with his hugely muscled right arm, the tendons shifting beneath the scales like steel cables. The other dragons kept out of his way, no doubt on account of his angry, brow-furrowed glares and occasional snorts of flame. Diamondback's messenger carried his long, serpentine body in a loose 's' shaped curve, like a cobra poised to strike.
“Follow me.” The one-armed dragon growled, and stalked off down the street. Princess Twilight followed him, with Spike and myself following. The rest of the crew stayed with the Interlocutor, doing a booming business in ticket sales.
I tried (with some success) not to gawp too much at the bizarre sights Spitespire had to offer. It's one thing to find oneself in a new city, but it's another thing entirely when that city is populated by irate-looking saurians, some smaller than Spike himself, others as huge as houses. The vast discrepancies in size between the dragons led to some rather odd turns in architecture, with smaller dragons taking up residence in birdhouse-like structures attached to larger houses. I use the term 'house' loosely, of course-- most citizens of Spitespire lived in rough-hewn tunnels carved into the volcanic rock.
The largest of the tunnels was set into the base of the Spitespire itself. The one armed dragon led us through a cavernous tunnel, which finally led to a palace-sized chamber, lit hazily from a cratered hole in the ceiling. And in the center of it all was the second most terrifying dragon I'd ever seen.
Drake Diamondback was aptly named-- countless white gems were embedded into the scales along his back, twinkling away like he'd decided to start wearing a constellation. He sat atop the obligatory heap of gold and riches, his long body coiled around it, keeping every little coin and bauble in place.
“Hi! I'm Twilight Sparkle!” Princess Twilight said. “These are my friends Spike and Flash Sentry-- It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Diamondback!”
“It is.” Diamondback said in a cool and cultured baritone. “I trust The Burninator* has treated you well?”
Princess Twilight blinked. “The what?”
“My assistant.” Diamondback rumbled, and nodded his long head over at the one-armed dragon who showed us in. “He doesn't come cheap, but there's no dragon who gets things done like he does. Even if he likes to get a little ... rough, from time to time.” Diamondback's lips pulled back, showing off his savagely sharp smile.
“Oh, uh. No. Everything went fine.” Princess Twilight said.
*Until now, The Burninator, a famed one-armed dragon warrior, had been thought to be legend, the sort of thing reserved for old dragon ballads and the like. Sentry's account here is the only confirmed non-fictional appearance of The Burninator figure. It's entirely possible that The Burninator seen here only modeled himself after previous legends, but Sentry's physical description (particularly the mention of only one arm) matches up with the surviving songs and graffiti doodles from the period.
“I see.” Diamondback drummed his claws upon a pile of gold ingots. “So tell me, what brings you all the way to Equestria?”
“I'm glad you asked!” Princess Twilight said. “Spike and I have actually come to the Dragon Lands on a Friendship Mission! We're just here to help!”
“Friendship.” Diamondback said. “I've heard of it. It's rather ... quaint.”
“Quaint?” Princess Twilight said, indignant.
“It's a very ... mammalian concept.” Diamondback grinned. “I'm afraid I can't see the appeal. I do not have friends, Princess. I have vassals.”
Behind us, the Burninator made a vaguely affirmative snort.
“That's terrible!” Princess Twilight said. “There's nothing 'mammalian' about friendship-- Spike here is living proof!”
“Yeah!” Spike said. “I'm friends with everybody! Even dragons! I was even Dragon Lord for like five minutes before I gave it to Princess Ember!”
And that set Diamondback to laughing, loud enough I could feel it reverberating through the rock floor of the cavern. “Oh. Oh. Thank you.” Diamondback wiped crocodile (dragon?) tears from the corner of his eye. “I haven't laughed that hard in a century.”
“Hey!” Spike said. “I was being serious!”
“Which is why it was so amusing.” Diamondback's neck stretched out like the swinging of a crane as he moved to peer at Spike and Princess Twilight (myself, I made it a point to stay at the fringes of his field of vision, in case I needed to make a speedy retreat). “I heard about the Gauntlet of Fire. But didn't you notice all the dragons who answered Torch's call were mere whelps like you?”
“I ... thought it was always like that?” Spike murmured, and fell back a step.
“You poor thing. Raised by mammals.” Diamondback said. Princess Twilight bristled at the derisive statement, but Drake ingored her. “You really don't understand. A Dragon Lord's rule is based on strength, not 'tradition.' Torch claimed to be Dragon Lord, but he's honestly a laughingstock to any dragon older than a few centuries. I could have crushed Torch ages ago-- or even Ember, now –and seized the title of Dragon Lord for myself. But.” Diamondback held up a pointed claw for emphasis. “I don't want to. I don't need to. Here, I have carved out a kingdom of my own-- and better yet, I've got plenty of vassal dragons to serve me, and to make me even richer.”
“There's more to life than gold and jewels.” Princess Twilight said, full of her characteristically determined naivite.
“You're exactly right.” Diamondback said with a fangy grin. “It took me a long time to realize it, but eventually, realized that any idiot can dig gems out of the ground. That's when I started ... collecting. Eventually, I started enlisting the other dragons around the Spitespire to serve me. I give them gold, and they bring me treasures.”
With that, Diamondback slithered to the side, circling around the edge of the cavern. I couldn't help but notice maneuver put him neatly between me (and Spike and Princess Twilight, I suppose) and the exit. No doubt intentional on Diamondback's part-- though he looked more interested in showing off his loot instead of eating us.
Several cubbyholes had been cut into the wall opposite the doorway-- they'd been hidden by Diamondback's bulk when we first came in. Like an exhibit at a museum, each indent held some priceless treasure: as an ornate, pony-scaled crown of platinum wire, or Octavia's famed cello, or (most attention-grabbing to me), a sizable oak barrel bearing the Chateau de Cheval insignia painted on its side.
With a sinking sensation in my belly, I realized the hot, arid atmosphere of Drake Diamondback's volcanic lair must have been hell on the wine's aging (with all the tunneling the dragons did, you'd think someone would have the sense to build a proper wine cellar). Just another footnote on Diamondback's long list of crimes, I decided.
Princess Twilight, however, fixated on one of the less impressive looking items on display. She floated across the room, finally coming to hover in front of a battered and tarnished antique shield: the sort of thing you'd see hanging on the wall in some country squire's house. But Princess Twilight gawped at the old thing with the sort of fascination that she typically reserved for books (and occasionally yours truly).
She reached out a hoof to touch the shield, only to pull it back at the last moment. “Is that--”
“Netius, yes.” Diamondback said, smug. “It's held up quite well over the centuries, don't you think?”
“But ... how? I thought it was lost for years!”
“It was.” Diamondback's tail uncoiled, all the better to run its very tip across the pitted and tarnished surface of the shield. “It was lost in a shipwreck, some ages ago. But a sea searpent owed me a favor, and now it is mine.”
Even Princess Twilight was able to get the hint there, and she backed away from the shield. “Well, uh, you do have a very impressive collection, Mister Diamondback, but ... what if you didn't hide them here? I mean, if you put your collection in a museum, then everyone could see how impressive your treasures are? We could even put your name on a plaque somewhere for posterity?”
“Posterity.” Diamondback snorted, and the briefest puff of smoke wafted from his nostrils. “Another ... mammalian concept. 'Posterity' is just another of those vaguely useful concepts invented by shorter-lived creatures to make themselves feel better before they die. When you can measure your lifespan in centuries, it's much easier to be known in the present tense, instead of a name on a plaque somewhere. But you're of Celestia's ilk, aren't you?” The enormous dragon leaned his neck to the side in order to get a better look at Princess Twilight's wings. “You'll know what I'm talking about after the first century or two. If you last that long.”
“If I--” Princess Twilight sputtered. “Is that a threat?” She planted her hooves, and there was the faintest glimmer of her horn. How I didn't soil myself in panic, I couldn't say. Getting caught in a brawl between an ancient dragon and a dangerously brave demigoddess was one of the more terrifying scenarios that even my abundant cowardice couldn't have thought of until I found myself facing the possibility.
And yet, instead of spitting out flame or putting his serrated teeth to their intended use, Drake Diamondback just laughed.
This may have been worse.
“You're braver than I thought!” Diamondback said in a jovial bellow. “Good! You'll need it in the years ahead. But, you don't need to get yourself worked up, Princess.” The dragon waved one of his wagon-sized claws in an airy gesture. “Now that I've talked to you face to face, I can see you are entirely earnest about this thing you call 'friendship.' It's refreshing, really-- I had expected it was just a ruse to insert mammal spies into my domain, but it seems you really are here just to 'make friends,' and not using such trivial things as a pretext to spy on me. So you may go-- sing a song, give some 'hugs,' or whatever it is warmbloods do to amuse themselves. As long as it doesn't interfere with my ... ongoing concerns, I don't care what you say or do.”
Drake Diamondback slithered back into his preferred place around his hoard-- blocking access to the most valuable of his treasures, but opening the way to the exit.
“You know what, fine!” Princess Twilight sputtered. “Laugh it up now, but before you know it, I'm going to befriend you so hard you won't even know what hit you!”
“I quaver at the thought.” Diamondback settled his head down on his front claws and closed his eyes. “But for now, you may go. I'm sure you've got preparations to make before your little concert tonight. I'll look forward to seeing you there.”
“Seeing me-- what?” Princess Twilight sputtered. Before she could voice any more questions or protests, The Burninator pointedly cleared his throught behind us. I, being the most cowardly (and therefore most sensible) pony there, picked up on the cue and immediately started nudging Princess Twilight and Spike towards the exit. The two of them went along with it, at least, and a short bit later The Burninator showed us out.
“So, that went well?” I said, once we were some distance away from Diamondback's lair.
“How?” Princess Twilight hung her head low. “Diamondback just laughed at us!”
“But he didn't eat us. And you didn't cause an international incident, either.” I said.
“He's got a point.” Spike chimed in.
Princess Twilight sighed dejectedly, but she at least turned to offer me a weak smile. “Thanks for looking at the silver lining. But it's going to be impossible to get the dragons to be, well, friendly. Especially if Drake Diamondback is any indication.”
“Maybe that's why your glowy table sent you?” I said. “I mean, in my experience, whenever somepony sends you off to do something impossible, it's only because they have a high opinion of you.”
“We kinda do impossible stuff a lot.” Spike said.
“You're right.” And Princess Twilight's smile grew more genuine-- dazzling, even. “When something is really hard, that just means you've got to buckle down and try even harder! Thanks for reminding me! Now, come on, we've got some friends to make!”
A surprisingly large crowd of surprisingly large dragons gathered around the Interlocutor's stage for the sake of the concert. After talking to Diamondback, I figured they were more interested in Octavia's Stal than in the music coming out of it. Princess Twilight tried to make small talk with the various reptiles, with little success. At least, there were no sudden teary embraces or confessions of friendship. Personally, I was just happy none of the dragons tried to eat us. That's about as close as I get to optimism. Even still, I steered the good Princess clear of the larger and meaner-looking reptiles-- Drake Diamondback chief among them.
Princess Twilight gave up on trying to connect with the audience once the curtains parted. The two of us flew back to the Interlocutor and found a spot to watch from the upper deck. The shadow of the Interlocutor's airbag concealed us from view, and we were positioned at just the right angle to see little glimpses of goings-on backstage.
Three spotlights flared to life, one each for Lyra, Octavia, and Carrot Top. Bearing instruments and bow-ties, they looked more prepared for Carneighy Hall than for the Dragon Lands. There was a little grumbling and muttering from the dragons themselves, but they shut up after the first couple of notes.
Music soothes the savage beast, as the saying goes. But, having faced far, far too many savage beasts over the years, I'd much rather have a loaded crossbow or at least a heavy rock in lieu of an instrument. (Unless, I suppose, it was something solid enough to be used as an impromptu club-- a bassoon, perhaps?).
And yet, Octavia and Lyra (and whatever recording Vinyl Scratch used to 'help' Carrot Top perform) were able to keep the very definition of a 'tough crowd' interested as they went through one classical Equestrian song after another. And, perhaps more impressively, they got my attention to boot.
As a proper gentlecolt, I'd visited any number of operas and symphonies back in Canterlot. Of course, as a proper gentlecolt, I was usually more interested in partaking of the open bar and/or canoodling with whatever particular sweetheart I'd brought along with me. But, there on the Interlocutor, there wasn't any liquor immediately at hoof (throwing the brandy into a dragon's mouth likely didn't help), and I certainly didn't have any intention to canoodle Princess Twilight Sparkle, lest I find myself freezing my pinfeathers off in Yakyakistan.
And so, I leaned against the railing, and watched Carrot Top play.
Carrot Top's musicianship was about as authentic as my heroism, which made it all the more impressive. I mean, any fool can practice for years and years to master a skill, but it takes a particular kind of talent to just brazenly fake it. I smiled to myself, and added the performance to an increasingly lengthy list of secrets that only Carrot Top and I were privy to. And, of course, on a purely aesthetic level, her performance was quite a lovely thing to watch.
The spotlights turned Carrot Top's frizzy orange mane to a blazing gold, and, even at a distance I could see the subtle curvature of her tense muscles as she worked her bow back and forth across the strings of her violin. I let my gaze travel down the length of Carrot Top's side, noting just how statuesque her figure was, so long as one was paying attention ...
“Flash?” Princess Twilight nudged my shoulder, snapping me out of my reverie. “Are you even listening?”
“Oh! Er, yes?” I lied, by reflex. “But ... only partly. I was distracted. By the music. You know.”
“Well, as I was saying--” Princess Twilight drew herself up with all the gravity of an indignant teenager. “I noticed you were staring at Carrot Top.”
“You did?” My mouth went instantly dry.
“It was kind of obvious.”
“It was?”
“I just thought you should know I'm thinking the same thing.”
“You are?” I said in a very, very small voice. The baser, more creative parts of my brain immediately launched into any number of indecent (and unlikely) scenarios. Thankfully, my well-developed sense of self preservation kept me from mentioning any of them.
“I am.” Princess Twilight nodded, and turned to look down at Carrot Top. “She's not really playing violin. Look-- Vinyl Scratch turns a knob or flicks a switch every time Carrot Top starts a solo. Don't you think that's suspicious?”
“Oh.” I said. “Yes. That.” I pulled my wings close against my sides before Princess Twilight could figure out what I was actually thinking about. “I ... had some suspicions, but I didn't want to say anything.”
“Mmmhm.” Princess Twilight rubbed at her chin. “You're not from Ponyville, so you don't know Carrot Top as well as I do, Flash.” I managed not to break into laughter. Barely. The Princess went on. “I've never seen her play violin-- much less on the level of Lyra or Octavia-- something doesn't quite add up here ... “
“Maybe it's ... stage fright?” I offered, and forced a smile despite the sinking sensation in my stomach. “I mean, she probably didn't expect her first big gig to be for a bunch of angry dragons, and ... well, there you go. Better to fake a performance than to get eaten, right?”
“Maaaaybe.” Princess Twilight said. “I just wish Carrot Top would have told us, maybe there's something we could do to help? I should talk to her once this is done.”
“Honestly, I think talking to her might make things worse.” I said, just a hair too quickly. But then, serendipity; I picked out a few choice notes from the stage below. “Whether or not Carrot Top's a master musician ... she's playing our song, Princess.”
“She's-- oh!” Princess Twilight said. “Is that the Winged Waltz?”
“It is.” I hit Princess Twilight with my most charming, most practiced smile. She didn't stand a chance. And that was before I held out a gallant hoof. “Shall we?”
“I ... I guess it couldn't hurt.” Princess Twilight blushed and looked away coyly, all of her sleuthing forgotten.
“It certainly couldn't.” I said, and swept Princess Twilight off her hooves. Literally.
Wings extended, the two of us wafted upon the warm air, more or less in time with the music below. I made it a point to keep the both of us hidden behind the shadow of the Interlocutor's balloon-- last thing I needed was the whole of the Dragon Lands gossiping about which pony Princess Twilight was smitten with. Hell, with my luck, some overly ambitious dragon would kidnap Princess Twilight (dragons did like to abscond with various princesses back to their castles, I vaguely remembered from somewhere) and then I'd be expected to rescue her. And so, in the shadows, it was just the two of us-- one of my front hooves at the small of Princess Twilight's back, the other entwined with hers. Her body was pressed close enough to mine that I could feel her racing heartbeat-- which grew even faster as she slid of hoof of her own over my shoulder--
“Wait! Stop!” Princess Twilight said.
Quick as a crossbow bolt, I flapped my wings and disentangled myself from Princess Twilight. Coward, scoundrel, and cad I may be, I'll be damned if I've ever overstepped my bounds with a lady. Much less a royal lady with a long, long line of big brothers and immortal mentors who'd have my hide if I so much as thought of anything untoward.
“Sorry!” I blurted. “I didn't mean to get, ah, familiar--”
“Not that!” Princess Twilight said. “Look!” And with that, she seized me in a somewhat familiar fashion, and whirled me about. She pointed downward with one hoof-- where, sure enough, in a shadowy alleyway, Flim and Flam were having a clandestine conversation with a dragon. And not just any dragon, mind you: even in the shadows, the one-armed silhouette of The Burninator was unmistakable. With everyone else distracted by the performance, it was the perfect place for a secretive meeting-- so long as there weren't any ponies with wings and vague notions of romance about.
“Shh!” Princess Twilight said into my ear, and yanked me along as she went to investigate. I kept quiet, and soon the two of us alighted on a chunk of rock within listening distance of the pair.
“I'm sure you'll find our offer more than reasonable.” Flim (or was it Flam?) said. I peeked over the edge of our boulder, just enough to see one of the unicorns pull an envelope from beneath his boater hat and pass it over to The Burninator.
The one armed dragon somehow got the envelope open with just his one hand-- and, after a moment to read the note, he incinerated it with a single snort of flame. As ash tumbled to the ground, Flam (or was it Flim?) held out a hoof.
“I'll take that as a yes, then?”
The Burninator just grunted.
“Wonderful! Send your employer our regards.”
And with that, the two unicorns turned and headed in one direction, while The Burninator stalked off in the other.
Princess, Twilight, in the meanwhile, could only watch in rapt horror.
“I knew it!” She gasped, and pulled me closer against her side. “The Flimflams are up to something! I don't know just what they're after yet, but I'm sure it isn't any good. If those two are left to their own devices in the Dragon Lands, it could mean an international incident ... or worse.” She shook her head, and then turned to look me dead in the eye. “We've got to stop them, Flash-- even if it's the last thing we do!”
Carrot Top glowered at me, keeping her voice just low enough so we wouldn't be overheard in our little corner in the cargo hold of the Interlocutor. She prodded me in the chest with one hoof, but I stood my ground. Mostly. “All you had to do was distract Princess Twilight, and let the professionals do the rest.”
“Professionals.” I said, deadpan. “You're counting on the mailmare to watch your back.”
“A professional mailmare. Which is apparently more than I can say about you.” Her eyes went wide for a moment as a sudden, terrible realization hit her. “Wait. Where's the Princess right now?”
“She went to go get Spike-- I told her I'd stick around and keep an eye out for any more skullduggery. Which ... I suppose I've found, now that I think of it. But the important thing is it gave me a chance to warn you that the Princess is onto your plan.”
“Our plan.” Carrot Top noted. “You're in this as thick as the rest of us, Sentry. If the Princess leans on the Flimflams at all, they're going to put the blame on each and every one of us in order to save their own hides.”
“Point.” I said, realizing that's just what I would do. Well, almost-- I'd probably include Carrot Top in whatever alibi I was able to concoct. Having two ponies to set the story straight would make the excuses more believable, so long as we kept our stories corroborated.
“Which is why it's so important you keep Princess Twilight ... occupied.”
“Easier said than done.” I said. “I mean, have you even met her? Princess Twilight is a pathological do-gooder. I could bloody well propose to her and she'd still keep hounding the Flimflams until she found out what happened.”
“You'd better not propose.” Carrot Top said, perhaps a little too quickly. “You barely even know the Princess.”
“Exactly!” I threw my hooves up in the air. “I told you this was a terrible idea.”
“It wouldn't be a terrible plan if you did what you were supposed to.” Carrot Top snapped. “All you had to do was stand around and look handsome, and you couldn't get that right. I know how you chased skirts back in Canterlot-- how is Princess Twilight any different?”
“Because I'm not in love with her, that's why!” I shot back.
One of the wonderful, terrible things about the Equestrian language (and one of the hardest things to convey in the written word alone), is how the entire meaning of a sentence can be changed through simple verbal emphasis on one word as opposed to another. And at that moment, a simple, almost unconscious slip of the tongue was enough to render both Carrot Top and I utterly silent, struck dumb by the implications of that single syllable.
“Oh, Sentry.” Carrot Top's eyes began to water (no doubt due to the dust floating around the Interlocutor's hold). She smiled, anyway, and shook her head. “You idiot. We don't have time to--”
“Flash?” Princess Twilight's hooves clattered against the deck above. “Where'd you go?”
“Damn.” I muttered, looking upward for a moment, and then back down to Carrot Top--
--who had already vanished, ghost-quiet. I saw a fleeting glimpse of an orange tail disappearing behind a row of crates. I followed her a step-- but then thought the better of it.
After all, I only had one job.
“Down here!” I said, and flapped my wings enough so I could get to the hatch in the ceiling. After a bit of pushing and grunting, I got the hatch open and clambered out into the fresh night air above. I found myself looking up at Princess Twilight and her little dragon, who peered down at me curiously. “I was just ... searching for contraband.” I nodded, grimly. “Didn't find anything, though. Probably nothing there at all.”
“You had the right idea, Flash, but I bet the Flimflams have a secret compartment hidden somewhere. You'll never be able to find it if you don't know what you're looking for. Spike, you stay here and keep an eye on things, make sure nothing suspicious is going on.”
“Got it!” Spike snapped off a quick salute.
“Now, c'mon Flash-- we've got to get moving.”
“Get moving ... where, exactly?” I said, and clambered all the way out of the hold.
“You'll see!” Princess Twilight said-- and, again, the telltale glow of her horn was all the warning I had before she bent the laws of physics to her whim. I stumbled a few steps, rendered dizzy and nauseous from the teleport. Princess Twilight wordlessly provided a surprisingly sturdy shoulder to lean on, and smiled at me. I briefly wondered if she teleported us on purpose, just to have an excuse to sidle up to Yours Truly.*
*I most certainly did not. Teleportation was simply the most efficient means of travel in that situation, even considering Flash's brief disorientation. To use such potent (and frankly dangerous) magic for personal gratification would be the height of irresponsibility.
The blurs and whirls in my field of vision coalesced into a familiar but not entirely welcome sight: the cavernous entrance leading to Drake Diamondback's lair.
“I would've teleported us closer, but the inside's warded against it.” Princess Twilight said, academically apologetic. “I just hope the rest of the security is enough to keep the Flimflams occupied long enough for us to warn Drake Diamondback!”
“Warn him about ... what, exactly?” I said. “I mean, your heart's in the right place, Princess, but wouldn't it be more prudent to figure out just what the Flimflams are allegedly up to before slinging accusations about?”
“That's ... a good point.” Princess Twilight conceded. “Sorry, I've just been a little on edge recently, so I got a little, um ... enthusiastic.”
Which would have been something nice to know before Princess Twilight started treating the laws of physics more like suggestions, but I didn't tell her that.
“Quite alright.” I said.
“Now we--” Princess Twilight blinked, and looked at something over my shoulder. “Hide!”
I turned my head and saw the Flimflams walking up the winding path to Diamondback's lair.
They pulled a cart behind them, loaded up with a single oblong crate.
“We can't let the Flimflams know we're onto them-- not yet!” And with that, Princess Twilight ducked behind a handy boulder. I followed suit, but given the size of the boulder, it made for rather tight quarters. It was an odd sensation, let me tell you, with one side of my body wedged against the rough, volcanic rock, while Princess Twilight's damnably soft feathers tickled my ribs on the other.
Before long, Flim and Flam passed by our hiding place. Either they didn't notice us, or were polite enough not to mention it. As they walked by, the two's voices could
“I'm telling you, Flim, of all the jobs we've done over the years, this one's gotta take the cake.”
“Not just the cake, Flam, but the tablecloth and silverware, too!”
The two of them laughed cheerily, only to cut their celebration off once they neared the cavern.
“Right! Game face, brother of mine.” Flim (or possibly Flam) said. “Don't wanna let the cat out of the bag.”
“That goes without saying, brother of mine. We are professionals, after all.”
Verbal fencing forgotten, the Flimflams went uncharacteristically quiet as they entered the Spitespire.
“We've got them now.” Princess Twilight said, and neatly stepped on my head as she clumsily clambered over the rock we'd been hiding behind. “We can catch them red-hooved!”
“Wait!” I hissed, and lunged upwards, wrapping my front legs around the Princess' midsection to yank her back into hiding. “We can't just barge in there-- they'll ... they'll bolt if they know we've found them out, and then we'll never find out what they're up to.”
“But I don't have the spell components necessary for an invisibility charm--” Princess Twilight protested.
“Then we'll just have to do this the old fashioned way.” I flashed the sort of practiced grin that seemed to make ponies think I knew what I was doing, and set Princess Twilight back on her hooves. “Just follow my lead.”
As a born coward, I've had a lifetime's experience of sneaking and skulking, and the terrible luck that forced me to put it to use over and over again. Of course, I would've preferred to be creeping away from Drake Diamondback's lair than into it, but, again, terrible luck. That, and I knew there'd be no stopping Princess Twilight anyway, and abandoning her to her own devices would be even worse.
It's a good thing I knew how to keep my steps light and my mouth shut, because Princess Twilight certainly didn't. Of all the myriad adjectives that could be used to describe her (friendly, intellectual, enthusiastic, open-hearted, and so on), 'stealthy' was not one of them. Nor was 'subtle.'*
*There is absolutely nothing wrong with a direct and honest approach, I should note.
Princess Twilight must have stumbled over every loose rock and patch of loose gravel on the cavern floor. I winced every time, and braced myself for the inevitable burst of flame to end it all, but nothing came.
Our salvation, as I soon learned, was none other than the Flimflams. Their patter soon started echoing through the tunnels, drowning the click of hooves on loose rock. Ever careful, I chanced a peek around the doorway to Drake Diamondback's horde. The unicorn brothers stood in front of Diamondback, fearlessly smiling up at the enormous dragon.
“Now, let me present the goods!” Flim levitated a crowbar out from somewhere and pried the lid off the crate he'd been hauling around, revealing a humble, slightly battered cello case. A flicker of unicorn magic undid the latches, and there it was: Octavia's cello. The one she played for the dragons, that is. “Voila! The Secret Stallionvarious! And it could be yours, at the right price.”
“As your letter said.” Diamondback swung his neck over to peer at the instrument, though he was at least polite enough to keep his distance, so any errant bursts of flame from his nostrils wouldn't singe the cello's finish. “Your courier was ... insistent. But where did you get this?”
“I assure you, Mister Diamondback, that we came into possession of this instrument perfectly legally.” Flam said.
“Extra legally, you might even say!” said Flim, and the two of them shared a knowing laugh.
“And it's genuine?”
“You heard it yourself-- along with all the rest of Spitespire! Do you think any other instrument could sound nearly as sweet?”
“Indeed. But I already have a Stallionvarious.”
“Why have just a Stallionvarious--” Flim (or possibly Flam) said, as brazen and fearless as a used cart salescolt.
“When you can have the Stallionvarious?” Flam (or possibly flim) continued.
“The Secret Stallionvarious-- cello number sixty four!” Flim said.
“After all, you specialize in previously lost treasures, don't you?”
“And it doesn't get any more lost than this!”
“Of course, we know you don't have much use for two Stals, which is why we are graciously willing to accept the Phoenix Stal in trade.”
“Well, not an even trade, as the Secret Stal is worth considerably more than the Phoenix Stal, given its unique nature, but we're more than willing to negotiate on how you pay the difference. Gold ingots, gems, or whatever other hard currency you happen to have laying about.”
“It's good to see that at least some ponies have a proper sense of greed.” Diamondback smiled, showing off an armory's worth of sword-sized teeth. “Your ... friend, the Princess, had me thinking that your entire species was soft.”
Princess Twilight made an indignant squeak of protest, but I held a hoof to her lips before she could protest further. Even still, her eyes began to simmer with repressed anger.
“To be honest, 'friend' is a little strong of a word,” Flim said.
“More of an acquaintance, really,” said Flam.
“Though if we were really feeling uncharitable, the term 'mark' would come to mind.”
“Rube.”
“Gull.”
“Sucker.”
“It could be quite a long list, honestly.”
Diamondback laughed with the raspy sound of a rockslide, while Princess Twilight veritably quivered with righteous indignation. I braced my shoulders against Twilight's side and pushed her away from the edge of the doorway, imploring her to keep quiet with a pointed look.
“You've made your point. Here.” Gold clinked on gold as Diamondback shoveled a clawful (which, considering the size of his claws, was saying something) of bullion onto Flim and Flam's cart. Upon doing so, Diamondback delicately took the 'secret' cello out of its case, turning to set it on a pedestal-- at which point he tossed the Phoenix Stal aside, carelessly. Thankfully, Flim caught the cello in mid-air with his telekinesis, and eased it gently into the cello case.
“Ah, one more thing, Mister Diamondback!” Flam said, trotting forward.
“Hm?” Diamondback looked away from his newest acquisition, if reluctantly.
“Well, you see, back in Equestria, we've got to worry about another silly little concept that you don't have here. Kind of like Friendship, really.”
“And that is?”
“Provenance. You dragons have a very solid 'finders keepers' tradition here, but unfortunately, there are some ponies who tend to ask pointed questions whenever certain items show up.” Flam said.
Flim nodded, grave. “And there are some ponies who don't ask questions, only to turn around and offer a mere fraction of that item's fair market value.”
“It's shameful, is what it is.” Flam said.
“So! Just as a matter of convenience, my brother and I would appreciate it if we could get your signature on a little bit of documentation to prove that our little exchange was done legally.” Flim pulled an envelope from his vest, and with a flick of his hoof, unfolded a document that rivaled one of Princess Twilight's checklists in length.
“You have amused me, so I shall indulge you.” And with that, Drake Diamondback held one claw in front of his face and blew a short burst of flame onto it. This done, he used the very tip of his claw, now smoking-hot, to sear a stylized 'D' upon the dotted line. “Of course, if you try to cheat me, I will roast you alive until the flesh sloughs from your charred bones.”
Flim and Flam paled. I did too.
“You make a very, very valid point, Mister Diamondback.” The faintest of quavers shook Flim's voice, which only went to show his professionalism. Were I in his horseshoes, such a threat would no doubt turn me to a gibbering wreck. “Which is why I will remind you of the fact that my brother and I are indeed crooked-- but we're not stupid, either.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“Now, if you'll excuse us, we'd better get back to our airship before Princess Twilight starts asking inconvenient questions.”
Too late for that part, I mused.
“Yes, yes. Go. I am done with you.” Diamondback said, and shifted his enormous bulk.
Not ones to waste an opportunity, Flim and Flam made their exit far faster than they'd made their entrance. Princess Twilight and I flattened ourselves against the cavern wall-- the Flimflams didn't so much as spare us a second glance as they made off with their ill-gotten gains. I could only hope that the likes of Carrot Top and Spike (but, to be honest, mostly Carrot Top) would keep them from hijacking the Interlocutor and making their escape, because damn if that isn't what I would have done, given the kind of threats Drake Diamondback liked to bandy about.
In fact, I was already desperately trying to think of a way to slink out of Diamondback's lair with the Princess when the dragon spoke.
“You can come out now, Princess.”
And she did.
“You knew we were here all along?” Princess Twilight pushed her way past me and stepped around the corner. She planted her hooves and flared her wings in what would've been an intimidating posture if she wasn't so completely dwarfed by Diamondback's scaly bulk.
“I could smell you and your ... friend.” The dragon turned his terrible glare on me, and my body tensed up in fear. This had the unintentional side effect of making me stand up parade-straight-- hardly enough to impress Diamondback, but Princess Twilight seemed to appreciate it.
“I do not 'bully,' Princess. Such things are for children. I merely ... state facts. If someone crosses me, I kill them. Painfully. On the inverse, if someone pleases me, I reward them. The two brothers picked that part up fairly quickly. But please, come in. I wish to speak with you. Would you like something to drink?”
And with that, Drake Diamondback slithered to the far side of the chamber, and picked up a blackened, bathtub-sized goblet that had been resting behind a pile of gold bricks. He reached out with his free claw and carved a great rent in the side of his chamber-- a moment later, red-hot magma began to ooze out, like blood from a wound.
“Spitespire has a very active geology.” Diamondback said as he filled his goblet with molten rock, and sprinkled a clawful of assorted gems over it. “Terribly dangerous, but worth it.” The dragon took a long pull from his fuming cocktail, and paused. “Oh, that's right. You mammals would die horribly if you tried to drink lava like a proper dragon. Pity.”
I almost, almost mentioned the cask of Chateau de Cheval, but Princess Twilight spoke before I could.
“We get it, you're big and ... more than a little terrifying. Did you invite us in just so you could be rude?”
“Rude? As if you're one to talk. Unless eavesdropping is the latest new thing in Canterlot?”
Princess Twilight opened her mouth to protest further, but Diamondback went on.
“No matter. I wanted you to see them, Princess-- a reminder that you mammals aren't as ... pure as you think you are.”
“Ha!” Princess Twilight pointed an accusatory hoof, and launched into full-academic debate mode. “That's where you're wrong! Because Flim and Flam are outliers-- sure, they're greedy and opportunistic and not all that honest ... and now I'm wondering why I took them up on their offer to fly here but that's beside the point. The important thing is, if you've studied enough statistics and/or sociology like I have, you'd know that the actions of just two ponies aren't indicative of the whole culture! Most ponies are friendly and selfless and always ready to help. Like me! Or even Flash, here!”
Well, I thought, at least my cover was still safe.
“Perhaps. Though trying to convince me that two ponies aren't exemplars of your species with just a different set of two ponies presents a logical fallacy of it's own, don't you think? Especially when one of those ponies has wings and a horn. I understand it's a rather rare phenomenon. Which is why I wanted to speak with you.”
“It is?”
“When the Flimflams offered to sell me the Secret Stal, it made me ... reconsider things. Those two charlatans have got more draconian greed in them than some of the whelps being hatched these days. And perhaps there could be ... opportunity here.”
“What are you talking about?” Princess Twilight said, suspicious.
“You're young, Princess. You can barely count your years in decades, much less centuries. But your very existence upsets the balance of things in ways you can't even comprehend yet. If you could think less like a pony, and more like a dragon, just think what you could accomplish. Think of the power you could wield. All with a little ... guidance, of course.”
Princess Twilight stared up at Drake Diamondback, her mouth slightly open in shock as the great monster's words sank in.
And then she started laughing.
I started looking for a hiding spot.
“Oh!” Princess Twilight dabbed a tear from the corner of her eye. “I ... wow. I just wasn't expecting the old 'follow me and you can rule the world' line. You ... really don't know ponies very well, do you? Or, more importantly, you don't know me very well. I mean, I had to deal with Discord before I even had wings. And you, sir, are no Discord.”
“Very well.” Diamondback drained his lava-drink, and tossed the empty vessel to the side. As the cauldron tumbled to a halt entirely too close for my liking, I was able to make out various telltale ridges and sockets in what I had formerly thought was stone; the enormous goblet had been fashioned not from stone, but from the upturned skull of some long-dead reptile.
“I was afraid you'd reject me. No matter.” Quicker than any creature his size had any right to be, Drake Diamondback slithered around the edge of the chamber again, neatly blocking the exit. “If you won't be my ally, then you'll at least make a good bargaining chip. How much do you think Celestia will barter for your release?”
“What-- no!” Princess Twilight flapped her wings, and her horn began to glow bright enough to hurt my eyes. “If you think you can keep me hostage, you've got another thing coming. I don't want to fight you, but I will if I have to.”
“Will you, now?” Diamondback reared up above the two of us and smiled his terrible, fanged smile. “Are you sure that's a good idea? As we are inside an active volcano. If you start blasting away, things could get unpleasant for anyone who doesn't have scales.”
For most of Princess Twilight and Drake Diamondback's banter, I was left to gawp in silent terror-- that is, until Diamondback moved his head directly over us, briefly silhouetting himself in the faint sunlight coming in directly from the top of the crater. With a sudden, giddy twist in my guts, I knew what I had to do.
I launched hard enough to send coinage scattering in all directions. I had just enough room to build up speed before I slammed into Princess Twilight's side. She let out a dismayed gasp, and an errant beam of magic shot out from her horn to gouge a trench in the cavern wall. Lava started burbling out, and the whole chamber rumbled ominously.
I ignored the rumbling (along with Diamondback's infuriated roars) and beat my wings faster and harder than I'd ever done before, steadily climbing my way upwards, towards the circular crater at the top of the volcano. Diamondback either didn't know how fast a properly motivated pegasus could fly, or he dismissed the crater as an escape route due to his own size. As for Princess Twilight, I knew I was a stronger flyer than she was-- if I took the time to get her airborne and fleeing under her own volition, Diamondback would have roasted us both.
Dry air hissed through my mane and feathers as I carried Princess Twilight up and onward. The day-lit crater grew larger and larger-- easily room enough for two ponies to fly through. I laughed, the giddy laugh of a colt who was going to live to see another day--
--which is when Drake Diamondback hit me.
The dragon's tail sailed through the air fast enough to make the air crack in its wake. He only grazed me, so the blow only broke a few bones instead of smearing me against the wall. Princess Twilight tumbled out of my front legs-- and over the edge of the crater. We locked eyes for a single, terrible moment-- and Twilight let out a pleading “Flash!” As if yelling my name would do any good. But then she was out of sight, and I was plummeting downward.
I had just enough strength left in my wings to manage a shaky glide-- enough to keep me out of Diamondback's jaws. I crashed into one of Diamondback's displays, swearing and crying the whole time. A princess' ransom in ancient artifacts clattered all around my hooves as I forced myself back to my hooves. I moved mostly by reflex-- left wing hung at an unhealthy angle, making flight impossible.
Drake Diamondback loomed over me again-- poised to strike like a cobra. “You've wasted enough of my time, mammal.” He sneered-- and then he opened his jaws, spitting a hellish conflagration down on me.
I faced my inevitable death the way I always did: which is to say I whimpered like a little filly and tried to hide. And again, it was that act of craven, desperate cowardice that saved my life. I yanked something solid and metal from Diamondback's pile of treasures, curling up behind it in a tight little ball. Flame coursed all around me, hot enough to singe the tips of my feathers ... but that was it.
The fire eventually stopped, at which point I peered warily out from behind my impromptu barricade. Drake Diamondback was still there, looking down at me with an expression equal parts puzzlement and rage.
“Netius?!” He snarled. I chanced a peek at the bit of antiquity that had saved me-- somehow, the pitted and dented old shield was enough to protect me from Diamondback's fire breath, however temporarily. He didn't sound too surprised about it, at least. “I should have known! That trinket might have saved you, but I shall take things into my own claws--”
Another rumble shook the Spitespire, sending rock dust wafting down all around us. The quake was loud and forceful enough to give even the massive dragon pause. He turned (and I looked over his shoulder) to where Princess Twilight's magic blast had carved a line in the volcano wall. More lava spewed from the crack, coming in alarmingly erratic bursts, punctuated by bursts of hyper-heated steam. It was clear enough that even a dolt like me could see what was about to happen.
All the mares were crying, and it was all my fault.
I'd always joked that there would be a long line of heartbroken mares at my funeral, but to actually see such a sight was far less gratifying than I had originally thought it'd be. Princess Twilight tried to keep it together, to look strong in front of the other ponies, but she wasn't doing a very good job of it. Carrot Top was a little more composed, though she leaned heavily on the shoulder of her friend the mailmare. The rest of the crew wore varying expressions of shock and/or despair-- even Bon-Bon shed a silent tear or two, and she never liked me much to begin with.
Not that I could blame them-- the Spitespire exploded with a bone-jarring thoroughness, venting untold tons of pressure in a single, catastrophic instant. While the eruption was 'small' enough that the lava hadn't reached the Interlocutor, nor the ponies aboard, it was still the sort of hellish catastrophe that nopony could have survived.
Nopony but me, at least.
I limped up behind the mourning mares, dragging the antique shield against the gravel behind me. Somehow, the racket of rocks on metal didn't get their attention, so I cleared my throat to get their attention. “What's the matter, ladies? Somebody didn't get hurt, did they?” It would have sounded more heroic if I hadn't coughed up a few lungfuls of soot right afterward.
“Flash?!” Princess Twilight moved faster than the other ponies, dashing up to my side in an instant. Eyes wide in stunned disbelief, she scooped me up in her front hooves. “You're here! You're alive! You're--” Princess Twilight's royal nostrils twitched slightly, now that she was close enough to smell my particular 'cologne' of acrid smoke and sweet wine. “You're drunk?”
“Not yet.” I tried not to wince as Princess Twilight hugged me tight enough to jar my already cracked bones. “But it's still early.”
“But ... but ... I saw you die!”
“Not exactly.” I weakly pushed Princess Twilight's hooves away. “You saw me fall into the volcano. I just, ah, improvised with a few choice items from Diamondback's collection.” I shook my foreleg free of the shield's straps, and let the heavy thing clatter to the ground.
Princess Twilight stared down at the thing, and gasped. “Netitus! Of course! But even its protective magic can only go so far ... “
“Which is why I hid inside the cask of Chateau de Cheval. Between the thick oak and the shield, I was thrown free in the explosion.” I nodded towards the shattered wreckage of the barrel a little ways behind me.* It was a tragic thing, to see so much fine wine lost upon the volcanic rock of the Dragon Lands, but I'd at least guzzled down a good couple quarts once I smashed the head of the cask open and hid inside. This, of course, left me wondering if the blurring of my vision was from the booze or from the concussion.
I neglected to tell the Princess about that part.
*Flash's account of surviving Spitespire's eruption is remarkably similar to the infamous 'refrigerator chapter' of one of the later, post-reboot Daring Do novels. While surviving a volcanic explosion by hiding inside a barrel seems ludicrous on the surface (though perhaps no more ludicrous than some of Flash's other exploits), it's entirely possible that Netitus' protective aura was able to extend to the barrel by using its metal bandings as a sort of accidental etheric circuit. Such a thing, while improbable, is not impossible. If I hadn't witnessed Flash's survival myself, I probably wouldn't have believed the story either.
“Oh, Flash.” Princess Twilight sniffled. “I'm so glad you--”
“SIEZE THEM!” Drake Diamondback shouted, loud enough to be mistaken for an aftershock of the volcano's eruption. Snarling and gnashing his teeth, Drake Diamondback pulled himself from the collapsed rubble of the volcano. Or he tried to, at least-- several thousand tons of volcanic rock was enough to slow even a dragon of his size down. As it was, he only had one arm and his serpentine neck free. “KILL THEM ALL! I'LL PAY DOUBLE THE WEIGHT IN GOLD OF ANY PONY BROUGHT TO ME!” Diamondback's claws dug parallel trenches through the rock as he clawed his way out. “NO, TRIPLE!”
At that, the other dragons (who had mostly been treating the volcano's eruption like a pleasant spring shower) stopped whatever they had been doing, and started prowling towards us. With bared teeth and stoked flames, the dragons surrounded the Interlocutor. From the corner of my eye, I saw Carrot Top brace herself, muscles tensing to leap into action. To be honest, I would've given even odds on a fight between Special Agent Golden Harvest and any single dragon you could find, but I knew even she couldn't fight the whole damn horde of them.
Thanks to Princess Twilight, Carrot Top didn't have to. Without a moment's hesitation, the Princess set her horn to glowing, and a thick pink dome materialized over us, keeping the dragons at bay.
“That should buy us some time.” Princess Twilight said, panting. A few of the bolder dragons battered and roasted the force-dome, but the shimmering barrier held.
“That's it!” I said, perhaps a little louder than I should have. Then again, I was half concussed and half drunk, so it was really impressive that I was capable of speech or thought at all. “You said buy us some time!”
“What are you talking about, Flash?” Princess Twilight blinked and tilted her head to the side.
“Watch.” I said, and walked up to the edge of the barrier, picking out the largest, angriest one (which was damned difficult, let me tell you). I rapped on the forcefield, and cleared my throat.
“You there! With the bad dentistry!” I said, and sure enough the beast brought his head down my way. He immediately spewed up a long band of flame, but it slid harmlessly from the Princess' barrier.
“Sentry, you idiot, you're just making them mad!” Carrot Top yelled from somewhere behind me. Somehow, her frantic tone was reassuring-- a reminder of the strangeness that I'd come to accept as 'normal.' Still, I ignored her, and continued my chat with the dragon on the other side of the barrier.
“So, Diamondback says he'll pay you three times the weight of any pony you bring him. In gold, yes?”
The dragon nodded.
“Did you ever consider just where he's getting that gold? I mean, right now, his entire hoard is underneath the better part of a mountain.” I pointed over towards where Diamondback still struggled and clawed at the rocky earth to get free. “Honestly, you'd be better off just going down into your holes and digging the gold out from under him while he's still stuck.”
The dragon blinked and stopped hammering on the dome. It took a step back, waved its fellow reptiles over, and started up a hushed, growly-voiced discussion. Soon enough, the dragons wordlessly left, scrambling down into their various tunnels and burrows.
“I can't believe that worked.” Carrot Top muttered as she walked up beside me.
“Neither can I.” And, with nothing actively trying to kill me, the last of my strength leaked away, and I promptly passed out.
“Flash.” Somepony said. “Flash, are you awake?”
“Unfortunately.” I cracked an eye open, and there was Princess Twilight, looking lovely and worried and more than a little haggard. At the sight of royalty, I instinctively tried to stand parade-straight-- only for a fresh wave of pain wash over me, my many wounds making up for all the time I'd been able to ignore them.
“Stay still.” Princess Twilight said, resting a hoof on my chest. “You really went through the wringer back there.”
“All in a day's work.” I said, with depressing familiarity. I managed to get both my eyes open, and realized I was back on the Interlocutor, holed away on a bed in one of the cabins. The faint thrum of the engine rumbled through the airship-- I could feel it even through the dozen or so yards of gauze I was wrapped up in. Certainly a step up from the Dragon Lands, at least. Though this in turn made me realize something. “Wait. What happened to Diamondback?” As the last thing I needed was an angry dragon to come howling for my blood, especially with me in such a sorry, wounded state.
“Don't worry. We're safe.” Princess Twilight said, “I had a ... chat with Drake Diamondback after you passed out. Seems that he didn't have any friends to dig him out of his hole, and, like you said, he didn't have the gold to pay anyone to do it. So, out of the niceness of my own heart, I offered to help him out. Though I maaaay have made him swear not to hurt any pony ever again in exchange.”
“You did?”
“It was Carrot Top's idea, actually.”
I almost said 'of course it was,' but bit back the comment at the last moment. To judge by Princess Twilight's guileless nature, she thought it was just a spur of the moment suggestion, and damn if I was going to give away Special Agent Golden Harvest's secret identity.
“But ... that's not why I came to visit.” Princess Twilight scratched at the back of her neck, suddenly nervous. Even in the faint light of the cabin, I could see her blushing. “Flash, I ... I wanted to thank you for everything you've done. You really are one of the bravest, most selfless ponies I've ever met. But ... you're too brave.”
“I am?” I said, momentarily bewildered.
“You were ready to die for me, back at Spitespire ... and ... I just can't have that on my conscience. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful, but you've made me think about a lot of things that I hadn't considered before. At least, not before I got these.” She puffed out her wings and wiggled the ends of her feathers. “So, once we get back to Canterlot, I'm going to transfer you back to your old unit. And then I will explain to Princess Celestia that I don't need a bodyguard*, no matter what some stodgy old traditionalists think.”
*Astute students of history may note that Princess Twilight Sparkle did eventually have a unit of the Royal Guard (the 5th Cloudsdale Air Hussars, to be specific) assigned to her. However, she has never used these ponies in any sort of military capacity. **
“It's good to be a Princess, I suppose.”
“Not as good as you might think.” Princess Twilight said with a wan little smile. She closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. “Flash, these last couple of days have been wonderful ... except for the part where Drake Diamondback tried to kill us, but that's not your fault. But ... I have responsibilities, as you do. As much as I'd like it, I don't think there can be an 'us,' Flash.”
“Ah.” I said, and tried not to sound too relieved about it. Instead, I splayed my ears back and did my best to look emotionally wounded (as opposed to physically wounded, which I already had down pat). “I understand.”
**However, I should note the 5th Cloudsdale Air Hussars have been instrumental in several disaster-relief efforts over the years, and should be commended for their loyal service.
“You're not mad at me?”
“Not at all. You're absolutely right-- it'd never work out between the two of us. It may hurt now, but it'll be for the best if we go our separate ways.”
“Oh, Flash!” Princess Twilight pulled me into a hug, teary-eyed. I cried a little too, on account of the jolt of pain the squeezing sent through my bruised and battered body. “Maybe if things were different ... no, no use thinking about that now.“ She sniffled a little, and leaned back, looking into my eyes. “Thank you, Flash. For everything.”
And with that, Princess Twilight kissed me gently on the brow, then left.
I settled back onto the bed, wincing as I put a little too much weight onto my left wing. By the time the pain settled into more of an ambient ache, my second visitor arrived. At the sound of hooves on the deck, I looked over, and cracked a grin. “Took you long enough. I was wondering when you'd show up.”
“Some of us still have to keep up appearances, Sentry.” Carrot Top said. She laid down the little picnic basket she'd brought with her, and pulled up a chair next to my bed. She took a pair of tin mugs out and filled them with ostensibly medicinal brandy. We clinked them together, and I gulped mine down in a single, much-needed gulp. The warmth of the sweet apple liquor was a welcome distraction from my multitude of burns, bruises, and broken bones. Wordlessly, Carrot Top refilled my mug, and I set to sipping that one.
“You know,” I mused, swishing my brandy around, “I've been thinking.”
“For once.” Carrot Top said with a playful grin.
“I get it that Octavia's cello was priceless, and that she would do nearly anything to get it back. But ... well, getting no less than two of Equestria's most skilled Secret Agents involved? Not to mention the Princess of Friendship, along with the most handsome and heroic and generally likeable royal guard in all of Canterlot? Seems a bit ... overkill, don't you think?”
“We recruited who we needed to.” Carrot Top said.
“Oh, yes. All part of Secret Agent Sweetie Drops' master plan. And it worked. Too well, I think. I mean, not only did we recover the Phoenix Stal, but we also came out with an ancient magical artifact on top of that. Not to mention however much gold the Flimflams got away with.”
“Actually, Princess Twilight's invoked the royal right of marque on that-- she claimed the majority share of the loot for the crown, and is planning to donate it to charity once we get back to Canterlot.”
“Another suggestion of yours?”
“I may have mentioned it in passing.” Carrot Top said.
“I suppos that's coincidental enough, so long as you ignore the part where we happened to humiliate and depose a ruler who opposed to Dragonlord Ember's rule. Seems a bit ... convenient, don't you think? Not to mention plausibly deniable.”
“Sounds like you've been hanging out with me too long.” Carrot Top kicked her brandy back, and then winked. “As a Special Agent, I can neither confirm nor deny any theories or allegations.”
“So that's a 'yes,' then.” I said. “Damnation, I have been hanging out with you too long.”
“Are you complaining?”
“A little?” I said. “But ... and I'm just throwing this out here, wouldn't it be nice if we could spend any amount of time together without deposing tyrants or saving Equestria from certain doom?”
Carrot Top smiled roguishly. “Where's the fun in that?”
“You're right.” I said, and let my head flop back down onto the pile of pillows behind me. “I bet Fancy Pants is just waiting back in Canterlot with another 'important mission' for us. Joke's on him, though-- state I'm in, I'll be out of commission for weeks. If Fancy Pants thinks I'm in any condition to go haring off for crown and country, he's got another thing coming.”
“I'll have a word with Fancy Pants when we get back. Make sure you have enough time to recover. Although ... “ She trailed off.
“Although?” I leaned forward.
“I'm not sure if it's a good idea to leave a 'hero' like you alone, especially in the state you're in. Maybe you'd need a bodyguard of your own? Somepony who could keep an eye on you without raising any suspicion.”
“Somepony like Special Agent Golden Harvest?”
Carrot Top set her mug of brandy aside, and put a surprisingly gentle hoof upon mine. “I can't confirm or deny that either.”
So ends the fourth volume of the Flash Sentry Papers.
“So, after all these years, you don't have any hard feelings for Flash Sentry or Carrot Top? Knowing they kept so many secrets from you? That they might have even used you?"
“Hard feelings? No. Of course not. They ... had their reasons, which were mostly good ones. I'm just surprised, that's all.” Princess Twilight took a sip of her tea, mulling the situation over. “Though honestly, the Flash Sentry Papers do explain a lot.”
“Did you ever see Sentry or Top after Spitespire?”
“Of course! Mostly just in passing, or maybe some polite conversation at some royal ball or another. Oh, there was also the time I presided over Flash and Carrot's wedding--”
My teacup hit its saucer hard enough to chip both. I gulped down a scalding mouthful of tea, and stared, dumbfounded, at the Princess. “I'm sorry ... did you say wedding?”
“Mmmhmm. It was a couple years after Spitespire, if I recall correctly. Small ceremony. Very pleasant. Rarity even designed Carrot's dress.”
“But ... but ... Sentry doesn't mention it anywhere! At least, not in any of the journals I've reviewed so far.”
“No?” Princess Twilight arched one eyebrow, and took a delicate sip of her tea. “I guess Flash's memoirs aren't quite as comprehensive as you thought.”
