> Clockwork City
>  by achu
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> A Day to Remember
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It’s pointless! I’ll never get off the ground!”

“I’m sure you will. Just be patient and practice.”

“How do you know? I’m worthless; I can’t even hover properly!”

“You will fly higher and farther than you could ever imagine. I promise.”




A grey pegasus stallion with a dark-purple mane walked the long hallway leading to the royal chambers of the Canterlot palace. Earlier that morning, a courier had woken him with an urgent message. Princess Luna requested his presence, before noon. He had been given a few days off after his last assignment, so it  probably wouldn't be about work. But on the other hoof, if Luna wanted just a casual, non work-related meeting (which happened sometimes), she wouldn’t have sent him a wake-up call. They would usually meet in the evening, right after she’d raise the moon. So apparently, something big was happening this time.

“Hey Blackwing,” one of Luna’s guards and Blackwing’s friend, Comet, greeted him at the door to princess' private quarters. Like everypony in Luna’s “Night Guard,” he had bat-like wings and a dark coat. Comet was rather slim for a guard, with eyes that were gold-colored and whose irises reminded those of a cat. He was wearing a regular Night Guard armor, in various shades of purple and deep blue.

“Morning Comet,” Blackwing answered as he stopped by the door. When he was younger, the princess would make him practice and train with the guards. Blackwing had made some friends in the Night Guard back then and Comet was the closest  to him. However, with their duties, they really didn't have the time to hang out as often as they had in the past. Blackwing preferred hanging out with them, rather than with the youth of the Canterlot aristocracy.

“Well it’s hardly morning anymore. You should probably hurry up, you know how Luna hates delays and latecomers. The clock is ticking Blackwing, clock is ticking...” The characteristic Canterlot accent both stallions had was making some of the hard consonants nearly inaudible.

“Stop that, you’re creeping me out. I’m not late yet and technically I’m still on vacation. By the way, where’s Fullmoon?” It was unusual for a guard, to keep watch by doors (especially important ones like this one) on his own and Blackwing couldn’t spot Comet’s usual partner anywhere.

“Chubby’s gone down to the lower levels; Luna sent him for some important ancient stuff that you should be discussing with her right now.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Comet opened the door and Blackwing entered. Luna was waiting for him in what could be called her living room, a large, but rather cozy chamber with three big windows and a balcony. Inside was a set of comfortable armchairs, a coffee table, a desk, and most importantly lots and lots of shelves by the walls. The shelves, the desk, and the table were all covered with books, scrolls and notes.

“Finally Crescent! I have been waiting for ages!” The Princess of the night looked intrigued, excited, and worried all at the same time.

Blackwing sighed at being referred to by his first name. “And good day to you too, Luna.” Over the years of their acquaintance (which had lasted for most of his life by this time) all of the formalities had vanished from their relationship. The princess never actually liked the official, excessively polite ways of the palace etiquette. It had no real functionality and made social interactions even more difficult than they already were for her. 

“Yes, yes, good day. Now that we have passed the pleasantries, let us get to work,” Luna responded impatiently.

“But I’m on vacation...” Blackwing started.

“I know you are, but this is an emergency. It may be crucial for everypony in Equestria,” Luna firmly stated while in the midst of browsing through  a large pile of notes on her desk.

“If I had a donut for every time you say that...”

“Do not get me started on donuts. I have not even had the time to have one myself all night.” She had been introduced to donuts by her sister years ago and by now everypony in the palace knew about her love of them. “We will eat something later.  By the way, do you remember that book you retrieved for me a few weeks ago? ‘The Arcane Arts Academy Chronicles, Volume 74’?”

“That old tome? Yeah, I remember.” Tracing that long lost manuscript had been next to impossible. It was the original of the 74th volume of a great chronicle of the greatest magic school in the history of Equestria. This chronicle became a great source of information and a base for modern publications, especially about obscure unicorn history. It was special not only because it was a five hundred years old manuscript, but also because it contained personal notes and commentary on described events by the academy’s chronicler himself. After weeks of research and traveling across Equestria, Blackwing had managed to trace it to an abandoned mansion just a few clicks outside Trottingham. The locals had considered the residence haunted. “Took some effort to find, even more to get it back home. It was literally turning to dust under my touch.”

“That is why I copied the notes from the manuscript,” Luna said, putting a hoof on the big pile of papers she’d been browsing through earlier.

“That’s rather fast,” Blackwing admitted. It actually was fast, even for her. Usually when the princess acquired something relevant to her interests, she would be restless in exhausting the source of information. “But what about it? I don’t suppose you called me here just to show it.”

“Bah, of course not! You see...” Luna was interrupted by the loud noise of doors being opened, or rather, rammed open with a steel trolley pushed by a quite chubby guardpony. On the trolley, there was a large glass case. “Careful!” the princess exclaimed.

“Y-Yes your highness! I-I’m sorry y-your highness!” the Night-guardian stuttered, a look of terror beginning to cross his face.

“It is ok, just leave it here. Dismissed.” Luna sighed as the guard left. “I thought I managed to somewhat befriend most of my Night Guard, even the younger guards do not seem to be intimidated by my presence anymore. Except that one.”

“Fullmoon? Just try sharing some donuts with him,” Blackwing advised her as he examined the glass case. It contained the tome that had caused him so much trouble to find.

“What did I tell you about mentioning don... oh, never mind.” Luna decided to keep his idea in mind. “We’ve got more important tasks at hand. First tell me, what do you know about machine-magic? Or about the ‘ghost in the machine’ concept?”

“Machine-magic is quite old. It is used to make machines work faster, better, or sometimes to fuel them,” Blackwing replied. “But only a unicorn with really strong magic and an understanding of machines can pull it off. I recall it’s somewhat limited by the law, isn’t it?” Though Luna wasn’t an actual teacher, Blackwing had learned a lot from her. It was conversations like this that made him feel like being back at school.

“That is correct. Hundreds of years ago, Celestia decreed that any magic used on machines was to be limited to basic spells and simple mechanisms,” Luna confirmed “There is a reason why, but we will get to that later.”

“About the latter, the ‘ghost in the machine’ concept,” Blackwing continued. “I’ve heard the term before, but I don’t know much about it. Was that something about mechanisms doing unwanted or unexpected things? Like they had their own will.”

“Well, it is a wider, more philosophic concept than that, but it will suffice. For now at least.” Luna got lost in her thoughts for a minute before she recalled something (probably a title of some publication) and smiled to herself. “I will send you some literature on it later.” Blackwing scowled at her upon hearing that, as some literature usually meant about a dozen of books from her, but luckily, she didn’t notice. “As you mentioned, the idea of connecting magic and machine is probably as old as the first machines ever used by ponies. But it became more developed about five hundred years ago, with the development of technology, primitive engines, the first turbines, et cetera.”

“And the chronicle is dated back to that historic period,” Blackwing said, more to himself than to Luna.

“Exactly. I find that period most intriguing.” The Princess of the Night nodded as a grin crossed her face. “Unfortunately, the regular version of the chronicle starts a lot of plots, but leaves most of them unfinished. I hoped that this manuscript would hold some answers to the questions I’ve had after reading the reprinted copy from our library.”

“And, judging from your excitement, it does. Right?” There was still some hope that the princess found out about something interesting and simply wanted to share it. Then Blackwing could have his week off. 

“Well, to some extent yes. But let me start from the beginning.”

“I thought that’s what you’ve been doing for the past 30 minutes...” Blackwing sighed, but Luna ignored that.

“Founded nearly one thousand years ago, the Arcane Arts Academy was the most important school of magic in Equestria,” she continued. “Every pony wizard wanted to learn there. All great wizards of that period worked in that school.”

“Where was it? I mean, I would guess, that a school of such renown would probably be in the capital, but if it was in Canterlot, I’d probably know about it. I know this town and its history quite well.” The grey stallion found himself a comfy place in an old armchair. It seemed, that the princess was just getting warmed up and this piece of furniture had become his favorite place in Luna’s chambers, especially for long hours of listening to her stories. 

“No, it was not situated in Canterlot, or any other town,” Luna answered. “This mysterious place was purposely built in a remote location, far in the western parts of Equestria. And only those unicorns confirmed to posses a magical special talent were permitted to enter the Academy.”

“How elite. Wizards just enjoy being mysterious, don’t they?” Blackwing commented. “And that would be the reason why we know so little about the Academy, right Princess?”

“Exactly. Ponies from outside the Academy had no idea what was going on inside,” she nodded. “But let us move four hundred years ahead. The idea of using magic to enhance machines was getting popular. Some wizards took it to a whole new level when they started to use magic to create machines that normally would not have work without spells cast on them. They were ahead of their time, creating devices that were amazing even by today's standards. Then Celestia prohibited it – and that’s basically were my copy of the ‘Chronicle’ ended.”

“You mentioned she had a reason to limit the magic-enhanced machines to simple devices and weak spells.”

“I talked to my sister about it. Back then, the decree was perceived as a way to control the wizards. Of course there’s more to it than that, but my throat is getting dry. Would you like something to drink as well?” 

“Coffee please.” The story was really interesting, but the armchair Blackwing sat in was getting too comfy and he had been struggling against his falling eyelids for the past few minutes. 

Luna called for a guard’s assistance, and Fullmoon appeared in the room again. “Go to the palace kitchen and get us a pot of tea, a cup of coffee, and a plateful of donuts please,” Princess Luna asked. 

Blackwing stretched out his legs a bit as Luna opened the window to let some fresh air in. It was quite windy outside, but the sun was shining, making it a warm early afternoon. She then returned to her desk and began to look through some of her notes and a few minutes later Fullmoon returned with the ordered goods and placed them next to the pile of notes.

“Oh great, thank you,” Luna said as Fullmoon made a hasty retreat. “One more thing Fullmoon.” 

“Y-yes, your majesty?” he turned back to her, an expression of horror crossing his face.

“Take a pair of donuts for you and your partner at the door. You look... hungry.” The princess smiled at him, trying to look casually. Fullmoon carefully approached the table, grabbed a pair and mumbled his thanks as he moved backwards towards the door.

“Hungry's not the word I'd use...” Blackwing mentioned while reaching for his coffee cup as the guardpony closed the door behind him. Luna smiled again as she chewed on a donut. 

After a couple more, Luna continued her story. “Now where was I? Ah, yes. Celestia told me, that she did not know much of the situation in the Academy, but she soon began to receive anonymous reports. I have reasons to believe that they were written by the Academy’s chronicler, Silverbeard.  They stated that some of the experiments in the Academy were producing disturbing results. Some of the younger wizards were creating more complicated experiments with more complicated machines and powerful spells. The machines were somehow malfunctioning, and strange things would happen....”

“Ghosts in the machine...” Blackwing whispered. He was both terrified and excited to hear more. 

“Yes. Celestia does not know what exactly happened, but the reports stated that the situation was getting more and more critical and out of hoof. Older wizards wanted to stop the experiments with machine-magic; they considered it too dangerous. The younger wizards thought that the elders wanted to control them and continued their work in protest.”

“Whoa, a conflict of the generations. That’s a classic. Now give me some misalliance...”

“This is no laughing matter Blackwing.” Luna sent him a cold look.

“Sorry Princess. Please continue.”

“She decided to visit the Academy and talk with its leaders. They stated that the situation may become dangerous not only to the academic community, but to all of Equestria.” Luna made a dramatic pause and took a sip of her tea. “Tia decided to trust them, as she knew some of them really well and trusted their judgment. After a long discussion, she agreed to sign a decree, one that limited the machine-magic in Equestria.”

“Did it work? Sounds like a risky move...” Blackwing pondered.

“In a way. Most of the experiments stopped. But almost half of the wizards working in the Academy resigned. The school never regained its reputation.”

“Wait... ‘Most’ of the experiments?” Blackwing raised an eyebrow at that. He had been taught that ‘the devil is in the detail’ and the pegasus had learned to pay attention to those little things. And this one just gave him a slight hint, of what his role could be in this whole story.

“Some of the wizards refused to stop their experiments on machine-magic, but they had to work in secret. I needed to find out more and finding no other source, I hoped that Silverbeard’s notes will explain something. For the sake of the Academy’s reputation, he wasn’t allowed to write about some inconvenient incidents in the official chronicles. Those books were printed and sent to libraries across Equestria, to advertise the school and keep its reputation.”

“Well, don’t keep me waiting. What did you find out, and what do I have to do with it?” Blackwing was eager to find out why his first day off had been interrupted. However,  he had to admit that an afternoon spent with Luna, stories, donuts, and coffee wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was one of his favorite things since he was a young colt. Through all these years, the biggest change that happened in their little get-togethers was his cocoa being replaced with white coffee. 

“Notes about one pony in particular, skilled engineer and talented wizard known as Steamwand, were most disturbing.” Luna seemed excited as she described him. “Even though his experiments ended in the most disturbing ways and his magical machines constantly malfunctioned, he did not perceive any of it as ‘wrong’ or ‘dangerous’. It was all just a way of improvement and learning to him. The chronicler also mentions, that for Steamwand, his machines were more important than magic, or anything else for that matter. He saw magic was only a tool and even created a device – a wand – to intensify his magical powers.” 

Blackwing had to strain his memory again. Wands were not something common among ponies, even pony wizards. “I’ve heard about wands before... but I don’t think that anypony uses  them nowadays.”

Luna nodded. “They’re extremely difficult to make. And my sister’s ‘machine magic decree’ forbids such devices,” Luna explained. “Even after the decree, Steamwand refused to discontinue his work and vanished.” 

“So, you want me to find him then? Or rather, find his remains?” The usual job. Find a forgotten tomb. What could be so urgent about that?

“Not exactly. You see, before he left the Academy, Steamwand told the Academy’s elders something that disturbs me.” She levitated one page of her notes to her. “According to the chronicler it was:  ‘You won this time you old nags! But in the end, I will be triumphant; when you’re all long gone! Everypony will see. In five hundred years the power of the Steam Key will throw all of Equestria at my hooves!’”

“And what exactly is this ‘Steam Key’" Blackwing seemed intrigued and excited by this. It had been sometime since Luna had seen him this way.

“I’m not quite sure. But the chronicler added some drawings of Steamwand’s devices. I managed to copy the text, but I didn’t have enough time to copy the drawings.” Luna approached the large glass case. The tome was in it and there was enough space inside so she could turn the pages freely with her magic. She showed Blackwing the original drawings. “I will copy these as fast as I can, so you will be able to use them during your search.” Luna was keen on arts and a few hundred years of practice had made her a really skilled artist.

“So we still don’t know what it is or what it does, but you want me to look for this ‘Steam Key’ anyways?” Blackwing guessed.

“I shall remain here and try to find out more. I have already sent requests to the libraries in Fillydelphia and Manehattan for assistance on this matter. You will go to Shadington.” 

“Yeah... wait, where?” Blackwing stared at her blankly.

“A small town on the river, by the southern end of the Everfree forest.”

Blackwing sighed. “Fine, but why there?” 

“Well, I was looking for records of Steamwand throughout the Canterlot libraries and archives, and the only thing that I have found so far is that the first mayor of that little town was known by that name. I do not know if that is our wizard, his relative, or simply a coincidence, but it is in the same time frame,” Luna explained impatiently. She was eager to finish her lecture and take a nap as normally, she’d be asleep at this hour. “It is the only lead we have as of now.”

“Alright, I’ll go to Shadington and find out if it’s the same guy. But you owe me my vacation.” Blackwing finished his coffee, said goodbye to Luna, and flew away through an open window. He still had one more appointment to keep this day.

He was supposed to dine with his parents. It was a special occasion: his older brother Sky was visiting. Blackwing had taken the week off because of that visit and he hoped he could delay the trip to Shadington for a couple more days to spend some time with his sibling. Sky had become a successful businesspony in Fillydelphia. Their parents, both diplomats, were always very proud of his brother and wanted Blackwing to learn by his example. Luckily, when he had become Luna’s protégé, their parents were satisfied enough to stop mentioning Sky’s success in business all the time. Blackwing was always happy for his brother’s prosperity, even though their parents could be restless in their attempts to make him a reflection of Sky. Actually, it was Sky who was more upset about it. Sky was humble and realized that he and his brother had radically different interests. In his childhood, before Blackwing had met Luna and later the young Night Guardians, Sky was his only friend.

For Blackwing, meeting Princess Luna had been a turning point, that had set the course of his life. It had happened over a decade earlier, soon after her return to Equestria. They had met accidentally, when she had been wandering the palace gardens, where he had sneaked in. Despite the immense age difference, the little pegasus colt and the immortal princess had had more in common than one would think. They had shared love for the night, the moon, the stars, and the particular peace it offered. She had been lonely and bored, the only nocturnal in the palace, as the night guard hadn‘t been formed yet. He had been lonely too, a night owl with a set of sneaking skills, that most grown-ups usually had perceived as wrong rather than admirable. Luna had stories to share and Blackwing had been eager to listen. Stories of old days, forgotten heroes and magical artifacts. And there had been one more thing - time. Luna had had lots of it, while other grown-up ponies had had none, at least for Blackwing. They’d started to meet regularly, several nights a week. She had taught him about ancient history and astronomy. It had given her the feeling of being needed and Blackwing’s enthusiasm and curiosity had made her nights a lot more joyful. Soon Luna had officially made him her protégé, to the displeasure of most unicorns from high society.

Blackwing flew at full speed towards his parents’ home, the Blackwing family residence. He was in such a hurry to see his brother for the first time since his last visit during Hearth’s Warming Eve. Close to his destination, he spotted an open window. There was no reason bothering with the door, so he just accelerated a bit and folded his wings to fit through the window frame.

“CRESCENT MOON BLACKWING!” He stopped about an inch from a pale purple-coated pegasus stallion with a dark grey mane. He was standing in the dining room, holding a full teacup. “Just when I’m starting to think that finally both of my sons have grown up to be respectable stallions, you have to go and jump in through a window like some crazy teenage ruffian!” 

“Actually, I wouldn’t call that jumping.” Blackwing, lying on the carpet, raised a hoof at his father’s comment.

“Do not interrupt me! And the worst possible thing, I could have spilled my tea!” Featherlan Blackwing, a tall and strong pegasus could look intimidating, but when irritated, his voice sounded very theatrical, which always made his sons laugh. This time was no exception as Blackwing tried his best not to burst out laughing.

“Oh papa, stop yelling at my favorite little brother.” A light blue pegasus with a white mane entered the room. “You know  it’s not effective when you do that.” 

“Sky!” Blackwing, back to his hooves in a flash, dashed across the dining room to hug Sky. Their father could not force himself to stay angry as he saw his sons in a brotherly hug. With Sky and Crescent here, the family finally felt complete again.

“Well, since I finally managed to push my older son out of the pantry, and the younger one, for the first time, isn’t late for dinner, maybe we should benefit from this double miracle and sit down at the table.” A pale cyan-coated mare with light yellow mane, holding a tray of daffodils, entered the dining room after Sky.

“Just let me get my father to join us Northstar,” Featherlan said as he headed towards the stairs in the hall only to be stopped by an old gray pegasus.

“What, did you think I would need somepony to come and get me, huh? Dreadnaught Blackwing is never late! Besides, I was eager to see my only grandchildren together,  and when I heard them, I rushed downstairs... as fast as I could.” Grandpa Dreadnaught said, scowling at his walking stick.  

The Blackwing family, now complete, sat at the table. Both sons were really hungry but they tried very hard to eat slowly and elegantly, keeping to the aristocratic etiquette. In the past the Blackwings had been one of the greatest aristocratic families in Canterlot, especially among pegasi. But that was centuries ago, now the family had only five members left, and they weren’t as influential or rich as their ancestors. The importance of the aristocratic class in Equestria had become very reduced in the last century or two.  However, Dreadnaught and Featherlan insisted on keeping to the aristocratic traditions and customs.

“So Sky, how did you manage to escape your Fillydelphian company and visit us?” Blackwing decided that if he cannot fill his stomach as fast as he’d like to, he could at least talk with Sky. A polite conversation during a meal wasn’t forbidden by the etiquette.

“Well, I've had this cough, for about six months now. Nothing serious, though it’s been irritating,” Sky answered after he finished chewing on some hay fries. “I decided that it was the perfect excuse to take a week off. I went to the doctor, he did some tests and about an hour later I was already on the train to Canterlot.”

“Oh, I remember you coughing all the time during your Hearth’s Warming Eve visit, but you refused to see the doctor back then. When will you have the results?” Northstar was really worried.

“When I return to Fillydelphia. ,” Sky answered as he took a bite of a roasted eggplant. 

“Don’t worry mom, Sky’s unstoppable. Some silly cough is nothing to him, right?” Blackwing assured his mother while patting his brother on the back.

“Mfmf.” Sky nodded with a mouthful of eggplant.

The dinner continued as Sky described his work in Fillydelphia and grandpa Dreadnaught told interesting stories about his time as a general for the Equestrian Guard. As they finished grandpa Dreadnaught decided it was time to head to bed.

“I’ll help you upstairs father,” Featherlan offered Dreadnaught a hoof, but the elder pegasus ignored him. He started walking towards the stairs, but realized after a few steps that it would take him quite a while on his own. 

“Okay, okay, help me,” he admitted his defeat. “Not that I can’t get to my room without help! I’m just tired and I want to get there today.” Featherlan placed a hoof around his father’s shoulders and the two of them left the room.

“It’s good to be back, you know,” Sky started as his father and grandfather left. “I heard you’ve taken a few days off too Cres?”

“Yeah, but Luna told me today that it’s not gonna happen.” Blackwing sighed at that. “She needs me to do research in some remote town, so I’ll be leaving in like, two days.”

“Emergency sightseeing? Well, I never claimed to understand the royalty. But I think it’s time for dessert .” Northstar trotted off to the kitchen, leaving her two sons alone.

“Sightseeing?” Sky raised an eyebrow at his brother.

“Oh, you know what it’s like; you sneak into dragons’ caves, steal artifacts from Diamond Dogs, run from goblins. And then you get back home and your mother yells at you about all that and gives you the lectures about what’s reckless and stupid.” 

“Not that I know what it’s like, but I suppose I could try and imagine it.”

“Well, I might have told our mother that Princess Luna assigned me to some safe historic research jobs on my request.” Blackwing gave a quick nervous glance in the direction of the kitchen. “Which may, or may not, be true.”

“Okay, and what do you do when she asks about your job? Mom can be very nosy.”

“ Oh I just tell her that my work is classified. Which may —”

“Or may not.”

“—be true. But it usually is. The Princess never likes it when ponies ‘babble’ about her interests and work, as she puts it; especially when it’s about powerful or valuable artifacts. She doesn’t usually tell me that it’s ‘top secret’, but if I start talking too much about my work she’ll probably have her sister send me on a different kind of assignment – on the moon.” 

“Yeah... so what is it?” Sky asked.

“What is what?” The younger stallion raised an eyebrow.

“Your assignment of course.”

“I’m not going to tell you!”

“Oh come on! Of all the ponies in Equestria, you can tell me!”

“Tell you about what?” Northstar just returned from the kitchen, holding a tray full of cupcakes. Two brothers exchanged terrified stares.

“A mare!” Blackwing exclaimed in desperation.

“His crush!” Sky joined him, trying to help.

“Oh, Crescent, I didn’t know you had a marefriend...” Northstar felt pleasantly surprised.

“I don’t... it’s just that...” 

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me just now who it is if you don’t want to. You have a right to have some secrets sweetheart.” His mother smiled. “Here, have some cupcakes!”

-----

Blackwing trotted through the door of his apartment. It was a small flat, a loft of an old building, close to the palace and city center. It was late afternoon and like it or not, he had to start packing for his assignment. Blackwing had spent most of the day with his family. They had walked through parks, visited the newly opened music section of the Equestrian National Museum (Sky was very interested in the history of music, from Neighthoven to John Colt-rain and Nat King Colt) and had had lunch downtown. Unfortunately, Luna’s messenger found him during the meal. The princess requested his presence immediately. Two days (or rather nights) had been more than enough for her to copy the drawings. In the palace, Luna gave Blackwing the copies and a ticket for an evening train to Balefast.

“Wake up Cam!” Blackwing grabbed the saddlebags hanging on a hook by the door. Cameron, a small chameleon, was laying on a windowsill. The afternoon sun made this particular spot perfect for naps. “We’re leaving tonight. We’ve got a train to catch at 10 o’clock.” Cam let out a big yawn.

“Come on! The adventure awaits!”

The chameleon gave Blackwing a skeptical look, yawned once more and fell asleep again.

“Whatever. Into the saddlebags you go then.”

> The Locals, pt 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



The trip took quite some time. Shadington was situated on the other side of the Everfree forest  from Canterlot and the unpredictable weather eliminated the possibility of air-travel while land transports, such as trains and carriages, were forced to take a long road around the broad wilderness.

The train arrived in Balefast right before noon and Blackwing had had just enough time to get from the train station to the harbor. The city was situated by the estuary of the river Nagan and Shadington was a small inland port upriver. The only transport was a steamboat that plied from Balefast to Shadington twice a week and if missed, would cause a terrible delay for any traveler heading to Shadington. Luckily, Blackwing managed to reach the boat just before it departed.

As the steamboat plodded up the river, Blackwing observed, as mile after mile passed, the landscape was becoming less and less civilized. The river waters were calm and the sky was heavily clouded all the time, but not a single drop of rain had fallen. There were only a couple stops along the river, in small villages. The ship’s crew would unload some supplies for the local stores, passengers got off, but nopony boarded. After the last stop before Shadington, the scenery got utterly savage, just forests and meadows by the river. A land of perfect refuge for a rogue wizard, one would think.

It had long been dark by the time the steamboat reached its destination. Blackwing was the only passenger left at the Shadington stop. He trotted down the gangway with saddlebags and a cape on his back. Blackwing left the docks and started walking the empty streets of the town. It appeared that almost everypony in town was asleep (as they should be by this hour). The only exception being a small pub near the port; a sign with its name, “Rainbow’s End,” hung above the entrance, but the appearance of the building and the sounds coming out of it were some of the last things one would associate with rainbows.

Somepony here has to know where I can rent a room for the night.

Blackwing headed towards the entrance, but before he could reach it, the door was thrown open by the flying body of a chubby earth pony with a moustache. He had a black eye and some bruises all over his body. He landed before the shocked pegasus, and while he tried to get up, another figure showed up in the door. It was another earth pony, bigger than any other stallion Blackwing had ever seen. He was brown-coated, with an orange mane and tail. He looked furious, with clenched teeth and eyes escaping their orbits. 

“RUN WHILE YOU CAN!” He roared at the pony with a moustache, who got up in a hurry and limped away as fast as he could towards the docks.

Blackwing stared at the large pony, terrified. He had seen many muscular ponies in the palace guard and he wasn’t small himself, but this guy was like a mountain composed of muscles and wrath.

“What are you lookin’ at?!” The huge stallion yelled at Blackwing, looking at him with those crazy eyes.

“Nothing!” Blackwing was ready to run for his life, but the big earth pony just turned around and walked back into the bar. He hesitated for a few seconds and finally peeked through the open door.

“Call the authorities if you have to Full Glass, I’m ready to take the responsibility for my actions.” The big pony approached the barkeeper.

“Nah,” Full Glass said as he polished a glass. He was an almost completely bald unicorn with sideburns and a pale blue, nearly grey coat. He didn’t seem moved by the scene at all, he wasn’t even looking at the giant in front of him. “The guy had it comin’.”

“Damn sure, he did!” The big earth pony, still shaking with anger, said as he sat by the bar. “No matter what, nopony insults me sister!”

“Alright, enough Tank. I feel for ya, but calm down,” The barkeeper said slowly, his gaze on the dirty glass he was hustling with. “You’re scaring the customers.”

The stallion shrugged but didn’t say another word and just returned to his drink in silence. Blackwing slowly entered the pub and quietly closed the door behind him. He still wanted to ask the barkeeper a few questions, especially about accommodations, but that could wait for a moment. He sat at a table situated in a shady corner, as far as possible from the one called ‘Tank’.

Maybe he’ll leave...

Blackwing ordered a glass of cider and waited patiently. Unfortunately, after half an hour, nothing changed and he began to gather all his courage to approach the bar. But after a quarter more, the ‘Tank’ finally moved. He stood up, and started walking towards the shady corner.

Not good.

Blackwing's eyes darted about the room, looking for escape routes, but the big earth pony blocked the way to the only exit. He was clearly heading towards Blackwing’s table and nowhere else.

That’s it - I’m fried.

The Tank stopped by the table.

“Sup.”

“Hi there.” 

“Hope you wouldn’t mind if I bought ya a drink, huh?” Tank asked a bit timidly. Blackwing stared at him blankly for a second.

“Sure, why not?” 

“Full Glass! Get us two pints of cider, would ya?” The big pony shouted at the bar and sat by Blackwing’s table. “Name’s Tankard, or Tank, for short.” 

“Blackwing.” The pegasus presented himself, still shocked. Tankard appeared completely different, from before. His eyes were back to normal and Blackwing could notice that the irises were honey-colored. Tankard's voice was deep and resonating, but also calm and somewhat warm. His cutie mark reflected his name quite literally – a wooden tankard with rich foam on top. It wouldn’t have surprised Blackwing if Tank had earned it in this very local.

“Listen... I wanted to apologize for yelling at you. I was really angry at that other guy. But you probably noticed that.” Tankard smiled faintly at him.

“Yeah.” Blackwing chuckled slightly as Full Glass brought them their drinks.

“Thanks, that’s the last glass and I’m goin’ home, promise,” Tank addressed the barkeeper.

“Yeah, whatever.” Full Glass shrugged and headed towards the bar.

“Where was I?” Tank took a big sip of cider. “The tool had too many drinks and had gotten rowdy. He began taunting me, but I ignored him for about an hour or so. Then he started to say bad things about me little sis’, Coldie. That was too much.” He looked down at the table. “Just got over me head, that’s all. I apologize.”

“It’s ok,” Blackwing said. He felt sorry for the big guy.

“Really? We’re cool?” Tankard brightened up.

“We’re cool.” Blackwing gave him smile to match his words. 

“Grand!” Tankard shouted as a wide grin crossed his face. “’Cuz you know, you look like a newcomer. We don’t get many guests in Shadington, just travellin’ merchants from Balefast once in a while. I wouldn’t forgive meself if I scared you off; you seem to be pure nice lad. Say, what dragged you to this Celaystia-forsaken place anyhow?”

“I’m here on a research visit from the Royal University of Canterlot.” The academic work was the usual cover Blackwing used; he even had some legitimate papers to prove his membership in the Royal Academy of Science and Culture.

“Whoa!” Tankard seemed really impressed. “We’ve never had anypony from the capital travellin’ round these parts, can tell you that. And what are you researchin'?”

“The history of the area,” Blackwing explained.

“Well, the town sure is old...” Tank rubbed a hoof against his forehead. “I’d like to help ya somehow, but I dunno much ‘bout Shadington’s history to tell you the truth.” 

Blackwing hesitated for a second. “Hey, if you wanna help, there’s one thing–”  

“Yes?”

“Well, I’ll be staying at least a few days in Shadington and I need a place to stay. Could you point me in a direction of an inn or something like that?” Blackwing asked, hopeful that Tank could point him in the right direction. “It’s already late and I don’t want to spend the rest of the night wandering around the town in a search of a room for rent.”

“As I told ya before, we don’t get many visitors ‘round here,” Tankard answered with a concerned expression on his face. “We don’t have no inn or anythin’... hey I got an idea!” He suddenly brightened up and smiled. “You could stay at our place! We’ve got an empty room – you’re ok with camp-beds right? I’ll take one out of the basement for you.”

“Wow, that’s really nice of you,” Blackwing said, perplexed at the situation, “but I don’t want to impose.”

“Ah, come on. It’s not like you have much of a choice,” Tank said excitedly. “Let us show you that we’ve got some hospitality in Shadington.”

Tank was right, he didn’t have any other options. He smiled at the big earth pony. 

“Thanks. That’s very kind of you.”

-----

Tankard’s place wasn’t very far and soon they reached their destination. It was a small, two-storey house, built of grey granite blocks; its facade sparsely covered with ivy.

Cider made the big earth pony very talkative and they were (or rather he was) chatting all the way from “Rainbow’s End”.

“...And you’ll meet Coldie. She’s a fine young mare, I tell ya – but hey, don’t try anything!” he said as he stopped to give Blackwing a warning look. “Where was I? Ah, and she loves guests and makes class pies and mighty cider... Aye, here we are.” Tank started digging through his vest’s pockets, as the two approached the door. “Aw golly! I forgot me keys.”

He sighed and knocked shyly on the door. Nothing happened, so he tried once more, a bit louder.

“Who’s makin’ such an awful racket?! TANKARD IS THAT YOU?!” They heard an annoyed yell from inside. “For Celayshtia’s sake! If ya forgot yer keys again, I shwear, I’ll kick the hay outta ya!”

Tankard gulped loudly, while the pony behind the door hustled with the door lock. 

“Hi sis’,” he said with a nervous smile when she opened the door. A yellow-coated mare with a short, dark-red mane and tail, Coldie was about the half size of her brother. She was wearing a nightgown, her mane was ruffled, and her angry expression reminded Blackwing of Tankard when he'd seen him the first time. However, it changed when she noticed that her brother wasn’t alone.

“And who is that, if I might ask?” she asked as she pulled her nightgown closer to her body, a blush flowing across her face. That and the change in her speaking pattern appeared most amusing for Blackwing. 

“Um hello. I’m Blackwing and–” Blackwing thought it would be polite to present himself, but Tankard interrupted him.

“He’ll be our guest! Hope ya don’t mind?” He grinned at his sister.

“And I’m Cold Pint, nice to meet you,” she addressed Blackwing. “Please, come in. Both of you...” she added as she threw a scowl at her brother.

They entered a big dining room which was dark, save for a few faintly glowing pieces of coal in the fireplace. Cold Pint lit some candles on a big chandelier to provide more light. 

“Blackwing is from Canterlot! He came to Shadington just this evening and–”

“Did you ask your guest if he's had anything to eat Tank?” Coldie asked her brother who shook his head. “You should be ashamed, it’s an awfully long way from Canterlot and he must be starving. There's some broccoli soup if you want it.”

“Thank you, but I’m not hungry,” Blackwing replied. He had enough dry food rations with him to survive for a week as well as sandwiches that his mother had made him for the trip. “Besides, I don’t want to impose myself too much and it’s already very late.”

“Ok then... you can sleep in the loft. Upstairs, door to the left,” Coldie informed him as she tried to suppress a big yawn. “Tank will bring you a folded bed and some bedding. Goodnight.” 

“Thank you and goodnight.” As Blackwing walked upstairs, he heard part of the whispered conversation that continued between the siblings. 

“What are you thinking Tank?! Bringin’ guests home at such an ungodly hour?”

“T’was already late when he walked into the pub. First I was kinda rude to him and then I tried to make up for it...” 

Blackwing entered the loft. It was large, but rather empty; just filled with some boxes, crates, and dust. The loft's windows where wide, just perfect for a pegasus to fly in and out and they overlooked the backyard and the edge of the Everfree forest just beyond that. He put down his saddlebags by the door which apparently woke up Cameron, who slowly crawled out. The chameleon yawned, stretched his legs, and then took a look around. He wasn’t impressed by his surroundings, to say the least, and gave Blackwing a disappointed look.

“Well don’t get too excited,” Blackwing grumbled to his pet.

Soon, they heard a rumble on the stairs and a few seconds later Tank entered the room with a camp-bed, some blankets, and a pillow. Cameron disappeared at the noise, adapting to the floor pattern, but Tank probably wouldn’t have spotted him anyways in the dark loft.

“Here’s somethin’ for yer shakedown,” Tankard said as he placed everything on the floor. “We’re gettin’ up early, but you can sleep in all ya want. The travel must’ve been tirin’. G’night sham.” 

“Good night.”

-----

“So you’re saying that prophetic dreams exist?”

“Yes.”

“But... How is that possible? Dreams are created by our minds, our imagination. They cannot show us future events we do not anticipate.”

“There are powers in this universe that are beyond our comprehension. One such force has especially left its mark throughout the history of ponykind. It is usually referred to as ‘destiny’.” 

-----

Blackwing heard a thunderous roar and turned around to find himself face to faces with a Cerberus. Its middle head was a lot bigger than the other two and it was trying to reach him with its jaws, but luckily for him, the other two heads attacked it. The monster was fighting itself and Blackwing just stared at it, frozen in shock. As he watched the terrifying display, he heard the voice of a mare behind him.

“Come, quickly!”

He turned in the direction of the voice and saw a shadowy, translucent figure as she ran through an open door leading to some room which, he could’ve sworn, wasn’t there a few seconds before. A quick gaze back to the Cerberus showed that its middle head was winning the struggle against the other two, so Blackwing decided to follow after the shadowy mare. 

He ran through the door, but there was nopony inside. He found himself inside an empty, hexagonal room. The only things in there were five big, brass levers placed on five of the walls and a huge hexagonal chandelier lightning up the room. Blackwing gazed back out the door; the monster outside still fought amongst itself, but it was also slowly getting closer to the door. He pulled one of the levers and heard a noise outside. When he turned around Blackwing noticed that a massive brass grate appeared to the left of the monster. He pulled another lever and another grate materialized behind the Cerberus. 

However, a few seconds later the first lever started to slowly return to its former position and one of the grates slowly moved down. The monster roared louder and Blackwing started pulling the levers quickly, running from one to another as the grates appeared respectively to the left, right, behind and above the Cerberus, creating a massive cage. 

However, as he approached the last lever to complete the cage, the chandelier suddenly broke free from the ceiling and fell down to the floor right in front of him and immediately caught fire. He hesitated for a second and jumped through the flames to reach the lever. Before he could touch the handle, he woke up.

Blackwing took a look around the room as he scratched the winged crescent moon (his cutie mark) on his flank. The sun poured in through the window which showed a beautiful, sunny morning in Shadington. Cam scratched his back and yawned as he lay on the windowsill.

Blackwing rubbed his eyes and took a deep, slow breath. He still remembered the dream; exceptionally accurately, every little detail.

Oh no. Not this... 

He knew all too well what that was, the symptoms were obvious. A prophetic dream. A ‘touch’ of destiny. He'd read and heard a lot about such dreams and visions, especially from Luna, the mistress of the dream realm herself. And according to the princess, even she had no control over these kinds of dreams. 

When your daily job was finding arcane artifacts, visiting forgotten ruins and reading ancient tomes, such things are bound to happen sooner or later. He knew that, but still had foolishly hoped that maybe – just maybe – it wouldn't happen to him. 

Because history shows that when a destiny ‘touches’ somepony like that, among other things, it usually means one thing.

Trouble.

With a deep sigh, he reached for his saddlebags and grabbed a quill, an inkwell, and a rolled piece of parchment wrapped with a dark blue ribbon.

-----

It was nearly noon and Cold Pint bustled around the kitchen. Not that she had to – her brother wouldn’t be back from work for several hours – she just enjoyed it. The night before she’d been slightly upset with Tankard for bringing a guest that late, but after a good night sleep her mood had completely changed. Now the young mare was baking a cake to celebrate a visit of an important pony from Canterlot. 

She heard steps on the stairs and soon the pegasus stallion entered the kitchen.

“Oh, hello there. Did you sleep well?” Coldie asked as she smiled at him. “I’ll make you some oatmeal.”

This time, her mane and tail were neatly combed; a hair band on her head and a ribbon on her tail matched the color of her pale blue eyes. Also, in the daylight and without the nightgown, Blackwing could see that her cutie mark was a refrigerator. 

“Uh... thank you...” he stuttered. “I mean, I slept well, thank you. And please, I don’t want to impose any more than I did. I’ll be leaving in a minute...”

“Oh dear, you know I can’t allow that.” Coldie gave him a wink.

“What?”

“First off, my brother would be angry at me for letting you go like that. Second, I already baked a cake for us three. You just have to try it, it’s my special recipe!” She smiled as she placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of him.

“But... it’s not fair for me to just stay here. I know it doesn’t sound well, but how can I repay you?” And there was more to it than that. If Blackwing was really bound to get in trouble, he didn’t want it to affect other ponies. 

“Oh, you could tell me about Canterlot!” Coldie said with a wide grin and a spark shining in her eyes. “I always wanted to go there. The palace, the royalty, and that great ball hosted every year...”

“The Grand Galloping Gala?”

“Yes!” Coldie squeaked. “You must tell me all about it! I mean, if you’ll have the time that is.” She gave Blackwing a sheepish smile.

“Well... ok then,” Blackwing agreed as he took a spoonful of oatmeal. As he felt the sudden warmth in his belly caused by the hot meal and the welcoming attitude of – now – both his hosts, he made a decision. It wouldn't hurt if he stayed for a few days.

-----

It turned out that there was no library in Shadington; the only comparable source of information were the archives held in the town hall. Blackwing wanted to head there right after the late breakfast. Cold Pint had stated that the town hall was situated close to the town market, where she was going to go anyways  to pick up some things for dinner. So the two of them grabbed their saddlebags and departed together. As they walked, Blackwing noticed that the weather had changed drastically since he had eaten his breakfast. It was warm, but no longer sunny. Clouds covered all of the sky.

“Strange, I could have sworn that less than an hour ago it was the sunniest of days...” Blackwing stated.

“Oh, that happens a lot here,” Coldie answered.

“But... how?”

“Mostly because of the Everfree forest. The town’s almost inside it. It surrounds Shadington on three sides,” she explained. “Its weather affects ours and the weather ponies have a hard time fighting it.”

As they kept walking, Blackwing noticed that most of the buildings were old; made from stone blocks and bricks that bore traces of erosion, often enough houses were covered with ivy. On the other hoof, newer, technological additions and mechanic installations were visible on every corner. An automatic pump installed on a well, a big steam crane next to a gate of some warehouse, a mechanized bellows in the blacksmith’s workshop.

“For a small town like this, Shadington seems very... modernized,” Blackwing said, more to himself than his companion.

“Oh, yes, we have lots of machines here. Maybe even more than in Balefast.” Coldie turned to him, grinning. “Of course you probably have a lot more sophisticated technology in Canterlot,” she added as she looked at him.

“I’m not so sure,” he answered, again more to himself than her. Blackwing suspiciously eyed some big steam vehicle that stood in a yard they passed. “Has it always been like this? Machines everywhere?”

“More or less,” Coldie  said with a shrug. “Some are old, some are newer. Many of them were designed by the engineer.”

“The engineer?” That caused him to raise an eyebrow. “Care to explain?”

“He moved to Shadington when I was just a foal, so I’m not always sure which are his machines and which were just repaired or modernized by him. Elders say that he’s a blessing to Shadington.” Coldie stopped for a fraction of a second, as if she suddenly recalled something. “Oh, we keep calling him ‘the engineer’, but actually he’s been Shadington’s mayor for a few years now.”

“Really now?” Blackwing muttered. The name sounded somewhat familiar to him.

“Yeah. Mayor Steamhorn.”

“Steam... horn?” Blackwing stammered, dumbfounded at the development.

“Yes. Is something wrong?” Coldie asked anxiously.

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

“Errrm... no,” Blackwing said as he quickly regained his composure.

Maybe it’s just a coincidence, a part of his mind hoped. 

Yeah, right, the other part quickly retorted.

“Ok, we’re here! This is the town market.” Coldie pointed a hoof in the direction of a few tiny stands on a square. “And over there is the town hall.” An old, tall, white building towered over the town square. “I’ll buy a few things and head back home. Don’t be late for the dinner.” Coldie grinned at Blackwing and trotted off.

Blackwing eyed the big white building and took a deep breath. In theory, nothing could go wrong. Even if the mayor was some descendant of that crazy mage, what harm could it cause? Actually, in that case, he could end up as a great source of information. 

He knew he shouldn’t feel worried. Yet there was still something that nagged at the edge of his mind about the whole thing.

He entered a big hall with stone floor and gazed about. There were some pictures of the local landscapes hanging on the walls, some benches for potential applicants, and a reception desk. A tall, green-coated unicorn mare stood next to the desk as she argued with the receptionist. Soon the unicorn turned around and she stormed out of the building, throwing around furious glances. As she passed by him, she seemed to stop for a fraction of a second, but then moved along.

Something about her felt familiar, but Blackwing couldn’t place it and he didn’t have the time to reflect on it. He approached the reception desk and presented himself.

“Hello, my name is Crescent Blackwing. I’m a historic researcher from the Royal University of Canterlot.” 

The receptionist, a middle-aged mare with a tired expression stared at him blankly for a second, as she processed information.

“Oh, hello. We don’t get too many visitors from the capital in these parts. How can I help you?” The receptionist gave Blackwing a smile that said what a nice change from the quarrelsome unicorn.

“I’m here to research the history of this town. Could I...” Blackwing hesitated for a second, “... talk with the mayor about that?”

“Oh, certainly.” The receptionist answered as she looked down at some notes she had on her desk. “But not today. The mayor is currently away on business.”

“Away?”

“He took the boat to Balefast this morning. He has an important meeting with the Balefast city council. He should be back on Monday night.” It was Friday. Blackwing sighed.

“Ok. But you have town archives here, right? Could I look for something there?” Maybe it would be even better to browse some historical sources first and talk with ‘Steamhorn’ later, more prepared. 

“I’m sorry sir, but the mayor ordered that the archives are to be off limits for everypony except town hall employees and himself.” Blackwing blinked at her, a little stunned. The receptionist continued in the same indifferent manner. “The archives consist of often historic and valuable texts. Some are in extremely poor condition. If you wish to access the archives, you’re gonna need the mayor’s written permission.”

Blackwing eyed the receptionist with the deep irritation of an insulted professional. “I’ve worked with some of the oldest manuscripts in the royal library of Canterlot. And they don’t allow just anypony to do that. Especially non-unicorns.” He talked slowly, trying not to let the mare get on his nerves. “I think that even your most precious papers will be safe in my presence.”

“I’m sorry,” the receptionist cut in in a way that suggested she wasn’t sorry at all. “But you’ll need permission, just like everypony else.”

Blackwing turned and grumbled something about bureaucratic nonsense as he left the building.

-----

It was a quiet afternoon in the Shadington marketplace. There weren’t many customers and the grocer was happy to see a regular patron – a young yellow mare.

“Good day Cold Pint!” The salespony greeted her.

“G’day to ya too,” Coldie answered with the usual polite smile.

“Happy to see you. What can I get ya today?” The Merchant was eager to make at least a few bits this afternoon before he closed his stand and called it a day. 

“Oh I’m just here to get a few onions. We’ve run out, again.” She thought about something for a second. “Oh, and two packs of oat flakes. Anyways, what happened to everypony? This place looks deserted.”

“Yeah, I know,” the grocer said as he nodded sadly.

“It’s usually more crowded, especially on Fridays.”

“Personally, I blame the weather. Look at how cloudy and dark it is! The sky looks like it’s gonna start pouring any minute.”

“And I think I know who’s responsible for that.”

Cold Pint paid for her purchase, put everything in her saddlebags with her muzzle, and trotted away. She stopped under a small black cloud, floating a bit lower than the others, with a long black tail hanging from it.

“Memento. Memento! Mem! MEM!” 

“You can stop getting excited over my name. I can hear you quite well,” a cold, emotionless voice answered from above.

“I’m not getting excited, I’m yelling at you,” Coldie explained in a mockingly polite way. “Because I’ve been under an impression that you’re napping during your work hours again.”

“I’m not napping. I’m enjoying this beautiful day,” Memento responded from above, without bothering to look down.

“It’s not beautiful, it’s horrid! Aren’t you supposed to clean such heavy rain clouds? You’re the weather pony for Celayshtia’s shake!” The conversation quickly crossed the boundaries of Coldie’s patience for Memento. She chuckled involuntarily at her friend’s accent, but probably luckily for her, Coldie didn’t notice that from below.

“Why?”

Coldie stared at the hanging tail blankly. “Why what?”

“What’s the point in clearing this sky?” 

“It looks depressing and everypony thinks it’s gonna start raining cats and dogs any minute!” Cold Pint’s face, already orange because of her friend, was now slowly changing towards bright red.

“Depressing? Fits this place. This existence. Life is grey, depressing, and pointless. These clouds reflect it in a most perfect way,” Memento responded in the same emotionless manner.

“Well ya know, I couldn' care less ‘bout yer fancy philosophy! Now clear the sky so everypony can leave their homes and stop hiding from the rain that wun’ come!” 

“What’s the point in leaving your house?” Memento pondered. “They might as well continue their pointless existence indoors–”

“MEMENTO MAURY!” A loud, high pitched yell got the weather pony back to her hooves in seconds. “Stop fooling around and finish your work! Or you’ll be late for the dinner AGAIN!” It was an elder pale pink pegasus mare, fluttering right next to Memento’s cloud. 

“Yes mom,” The young, white weather pony with a cutie mark of a rain cloud responded through clenched teeth. “In a minute.” Thunderstruck at first, Memento returned to her usual emotionless face. She laid down on the cloud again, and again there was only a long black tail hanging from it. But the elder mare knew exactly what to do to get her up.

“The pancakes are not all that tasty when they’re cold, you know.“ 

Somewhere in the middle of that sentence Memento had taken off. Her mother landed next to Cold Pint and they watched the display together from the ground. Memento had dashed off with a kick that already disintegrated the cloud she had been lying on. Then she hit the thick, dark grey stratus layer above. She pierced it a dozen times, turning it into small black clouds instead of one thick stratus. Then she dashed through them, removing whole groups of small clouds together. After that, she finished off a few remaining nimbus and flew away at an incredible speed towards her home. It didn’t take more than maybe twenty seconds, and all that was left was an almost invisible, faint grey trail against the clear blue sky.

“Boy, oh boy, that filly sure does like pancakes.” Memento’s mum giggled merrily.

“Uh... well... yeah. I mean, that was kinda impressive,” Cold Pint said slowly, still stunned by the display, as her face returned to the usual color. “I knew she was skilled but...”

“Yeah, our little filly has become quite the flyer!” 

“Right... well thanks anyway Mrs. Maury! It’s nice to see the sun again.”

“Anytime sweetie,” Mrs. Maury said as she smiled at Coldie. “Oh, speaking of time, I think I should be going. Those pancakes ain’t gonna make themselves!” She flew away after her daughter, a big grin still on her face.

Coldie stood there for a few seconds more, still amazed by the display of Memento’s flying skills and her always gleeful mom. The young mare felt surprised, not because she wasn’t aware of the pegasus’ abilities, she'd just forgotten about them. Besides many differences, Cold Pint and Memento Maury were the best of friends as fillies, but since they were kind of grown up, it had changed. It had had to, she told herself. Coldie had to take care of the house and Mem, she became the youngest weather pony in the history of Shadington. And she had changed; she had begun reading some fancy philosophic books and poetry. 

“A fine gal she became, huh?” Coldie heard a familiar low voice behind her. “Ya said she was the first pegasus in yer class to fly, right sis?”

She stopped looking at the sky and sighed. “Yeah.” She quickly returned to here and now. “And what are you doing here?” she said as she gave Tankard a scrutinizing look.

“Just passing by on me way home. Finished work early today,” he explained indifferently. Then, something caught his attention. “Hey, look who’s comin’ our way.”

Coldie turned around to see the familiar grey pegasus with a dark purple mane walking towards them. As he passed by some stands, a green unicorn mare stumbled on some hole in the pavement and hit him in the side. She apologized and wandered off as Blackwing shrugged and trotted towards them.

“Hey there. Oh look, it’s sunny again. I suppose, I should get used to that right?” Both siblings nodded. “I wasn’t allowed in the archives. Need ‘the mayor’s written permission’.”

“He refused to give you one?” Coldie asked in slight disbelief.

“He wasn't there; had some meeting in Balefast.”

“Shame lad. And if he took the boat today–” Tank started.

“He won’t be back ‘till Monday night, I know. The steamboat plies from Balefast only twice a week.” Blackwing finished, slightly irritated. “Guess I’ll have to wait. Anyways, you don’t happen to know that unicorn, the one who walked into me?” 

Coldie and Tank exchanged looks.

“Why?” Coldie asked a little anxiously. “Are you hurt?”

“No, my saddlebags took most of the blow.” He chuckled slightly. “She just... reminds me of somepony. I just don’t remember who... probably somepony from Canterlot.”

“Her name’s Crystal Vial. She’s a, uh... a herbalist roun’ere.” Blackwing scrutinized Tankard as the earth pony was saying this. Tank’s expression was somewhat uneasy. Coldie was also strangely serious and quiet as well.

“Is there something wrong with her? I mean... I saw her in the town hall earlier. She was going at it quite furiously with the receptionist. And you seem a bit unhappy to be talking about her.”

“It’s just that lotsa ponies don’t like her here,” Tank explained sternly.

“For any reason in particular?” Blackwing asked, raising an eyebrow with the question.

“Some say she puts awful things in her brews, like dead frogs, spiders, or bat wings.” There was just a slightest hint of fear in Tankard’s voice. “Others even go as far as to call her a witch.”

Blackwing suppressed a chuckle. Ah, the perks of visiting the province.

“And what do you two think of her?”

“I don’t know her,” Coldie started. She sounded a bit insecure in her thoughts. “But something stinks ‘round this whole herbalism business.”

“Yeah... you know, I’m not into that ‘natural medicine’ either. When I’m feelin’ gawk, I jus’ drink buckets o’tea or hot raspberry juice. Coldie cooks me her special soup also.” Tank gave his sister a loving smile which she bashfully returned. Blackwing still felt a bit odd at the sight of such an expression on the face of this giant. The same pony, who just last night seemed to be the last one the pegasus wanted to get to know better. “I go to bed early and the next day I’m good as new. But I know a few guys that buy her potions.”

“And?” 

“They don’t complain, but ya know,” He continued, lowering his voice to a whisper,“She coulda put some spell on’em or somethin.”

Blackwing smiled mildly at his bulky, simpleton friend. Whether this Crystal Vial was a charlatan or just an unconventional medicine practitioner, this little town and its citizens seemed to gradually grow more interesting to him. And this was just after one afternoon.


> The Locals, pt 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



A scroll, wrapped in a dark blue ribbon and sealed with the simplest candle wax seal, materialized out of thin air and fell onto Princess Luna’s face, waking her unpleasantly. She grumbled as she sat up on her bed and grabbed the scroll with her magic.

“What is it now?”

The room was completely dark; thick, heavy, three-layered curtains covered all the windows. For a second, Luna hesitated, wondering if she should open the letter or just go back to sleep. It was afternoon, she still had at least a couple more hours before she needed to be awake.

“Okay...” Her curiosity won out in the end. She blinked twice and forced her eyes to switch to night vision. It was something Luna was born with, but living in the castle, surrounded by candles, chandeliers and lamps slightly crippled this ability. She broke the seal and began to read.

Dear L.

Everything is going fine. I arrived on schedule and found a place to stay for the night. The locals seem to be very physical with each other, especially when resolving misunderstandings, but they are welcoming towards the strangers nonetheless. Of course, as you’ve probably figured, that it’s not why I’m writing to you.
The first night here, I had a dream. And not the regular, run of the mill dream...

“And what dreams are regular?” She mumbled, smiling to herself. The perception of dreams was one of their few differences. For obvious reasons – nopony in Equestria quite perceived them the way Luna did.

...but one of those we talked about many times. Let’s say, a prophetic dream.

Oh, this was getting interesting. Crescent Blackwing willing to accept a dream as ‘prophetic’ – something highly unexpected. 

It featured me, in control of my body. And a cerberus, right in front of me. Its middle head was significantly bigger than the others which tried to bite it. Somepony called out to me from behind. It was a mare, but unrecognizable beyond that – she was all shadowy and translucent. I followed that pony to a big hexagonal room, but she had vanished. There were five brass levers on five walls. Pulling them caused parts of a big cage to appear around the cerberus. But before I could reach the last lever, a chandelier fell from the ceiling and suddenly the floor was on fire. I jumped through the flames to reach the last lever, and woke up. 
I turn to you, as an expert, with hope that you will be able to see through at least some of this nonsense, as I have failed to. I’ll be looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this. Of course, I’ll report if anything relevant happens, or if more such visions appear.
I hope my bat-winged colleagues are keeping you company in my absence. Be well,

Yours, C.

The princess smiled mysteriously. This was certainly becoming a lot more interesting. 	

----- 

The pastry was delicious. It looked like a simple chocolate cake, but its taste and aroma were completely unique and new to the Canterlot-native pegasus. Coldie revealed that the secrets of the recipe were almonds, cinnamon, specially selected chocolate and potatoes. Blackwing had to admit, this country baking was better than most (if not all) of the pastries he had had before.  

After a copious dinner and loads of cake, all three ponies (including Tankard) were absolutely stuffed. 

Tank leaned back in his chair and pulled a small smoking pipe out of his vest’s pocket. “All right sham, now tell me: what yer gonna do till Tuesday?” he asked as he started to fill his pipe with some pipeweed from a small pouch in another of his pockets.

Blackwing had been thinking about that since the visit at the town hall, but no actual plan seemed to have formed in his mind. “I don’t know. Guess I’ll just have to do some field research instead of browsing through written sources. Just have to find information on my own. You know, talk with ponies, examine historical places, that kind of stuff.” His expression grew a bit distant, as if he were remembering something. An inscrutable smile appeared on his face. “Actually, that’s usually the fun part.”

“Could you tell us what exactly the subject of your research is?” Coldie asked. She seemed a lot more interested in Blackwing’s assignment than her brother did. 

The Canterlot-native hesitated for a moment. These candid provincials seemed rather trustworthy. But on the other hoof, there’s no need to explain the details, a general description would hopefully satisfy their curiosity. “I need to learn as much as possible about the machines in Shadington and their origins. Especially those that are old or magical.” That last word made the siblings exchange slightly puzzled looks.

“Dunno much ‘bout magic,” Tank said as he let a nice big smoke ring from his pipe soar up to the ceiling, “but if we’re talkin' machines, there’s nopony better for the job than Mr. Gearbox. He repairs all kinds of mechanisms. And he used to be pop’s best pal, now he’s mine.”

Blackwing placed a hoof to his chin and contemplated the idea for a moment. Better than nothing I suppose, he thought. “Could you set up a meeting for tomorrow?”

A couple of unruly smoke rings escaped Tank's pipe and floated through a window in a pursuit of freedom. “Actually, I’m goin’ to pay him a visit today. He wanted to talk ‘bout somethin'. You can come with me.”

“Sounds great.” 

-----

The old facades of the buildings were painted in various shades of red, orange, and pink by the beautiful sunset as the two stallions walked down Sawyers’ Street, one of the main streets of Shadington. Soon, they approached an old workshop with a washed sign hanging over the entrance.

“The Gearbox. Not overly inventive,” Blackwing mumbled to himself.

It was a warm evening and the workshop’s doors had been left open allowing Blackwing to get a look inside as he and Tank entered the building. The interior was rather dim, lit only by the last rays of daylight as they oozed through the small, dirty windows. The main gate, used to carry in big machines and tools, was already closed. Strewn all about the workshop were tools, spare parts, broken mechanisms, and devices that were yet to be finished. 

Behind all of the junk, behind an old shabby desk, sat Mr. Gearbox; a tall brown-coated unicorn with a blond beard, moustache, tail, and completely bald head. He wore a pair of blue overalls with lots of pockets, each stuffed with screws, screwdrivers, keys, and other small metal parts. Gearbox was apparently occupied with some blueprints on his desk, but when he noticed the guests, he quickly jumped from his chair and hurried over to greet them.

“Hi there Tankard! Glad to see ya.” The unicorn's accent was as strong as Tank's, if not stronger. He also resembled the big stallion in his physique – though Gearbox was just a bit smaller. “And I see ya brought a friend.”

“Yeah, hi. This here's Blackwing,” Tank said as he slapped Blackwing on the back causing him to fight to maintain his balance. “He’s from Canterlot.”

“Sweet Celaystia… a Canterlot-native in me workshop. Gonna have ta mark this date in me calendar, I tell ya!” Gearbox shouted as he let out a deep, thunderous laugh. Blackwing noticed a small red-coated unicorn colt peeking through the open door of a room in the back of the workshop. “Long way from Canterlot. What brings ya here boy?” 

“He’s interested in the machines in Shadington,” Tank answered before Blackwing could. “And I tells him: There’s nopony who knows all the mechanic devices better than me sham, Gearbox.”

“Sure thing!” Gearbox nodded proudly at Tank's praise. Suddenly, he noticed the colt peeking through the door. “A, Sprocket! Come’ere, be polite, present ya’self. This here's me son, Sprocket.”

Sprocket entered the room and greeted the guests, smiling timidly. “G’dafternoon sirs.” His coat was dark red and his mane blond, just like his father’s beard. Apparently, the colt had yet to find his unique talent, as no cutie mark was visible on his flank.

Gearbox addressed Blackwing. “I’ll gladly answer all your questions about mechanics, in a minute though. First I need a word with Tank.” He gave Tankard a very serious look. “So, Sprocket please take care ‘bout our guest as I chat with Tank face to face.” He left the room and the big earth pony followed, closing the door to the back room behind him.

“Listen, I’ve got to ask ya a favor,” Gearbox started once they were alone, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Ok... somethin’s wrong?” Tank’s usual calm expression showed a slight hint of worry as he asked.

“No... I... Well I’m not quite sure,” he admitted as he looked at the floor. “Remember when I told ya ‘bout this swelling I have under me left foreleg? Well, it began to grow quickly and it's started to hurt. I’ve been at Sawbones’ this mornin’ and the doctor said I should go to the Balefast hospital and have it cut out.”

Tank raised an eyebrow. “To Balefast? But Sawbones is a surgeon himself, can’t he do it?”

“He said he’s not sure what it is and the doctors in Balefast should decide. I have ta leave as soon as possible. That’s why I need you. You and Coldie both.” Gearbox lifted his gaze and gave Tank a pleading look. “You know it’s just the two of us, me and Sprocket. If I go to the hospital for Celaystia knows how long, there’s nopony to look after me kid.”

Tank looked his friend deeply in the eyes. “You never let down me dad when he needed ya. And when I was a kid, you were like a big brother to me.” Tank smiled and Gearbox brightened up. “You don’t even have to ask, I'll keep and eye on Sprocket for ya.” 

Meanwhile, in the other room, Blackwing was trying not to waste time. He decided to ask Sprocket a few questions.

“So, your dad is a mechanic...”

“Yep. And the best one,” Sprocket said as he smiled proudly.

“Of course,” Blackwing said as he smiled too. The kid seemed very friendly. “He uses all these tools and sophisticated mechanic devices. He must be very smart.”

“Sure! Dad knows erythin ‘bout mechanics.” Sprocket’s admiration for his father was unusual, even for a young colt.

“But these machines are all very complicated. Does he use magic to make them work?” Blackwing wasn’t there to inspect Gearbox’s methods, but the kid could tell him more than his dad would like.

“Oh no, of course not,” Sprocket replied a bit resentfully. “Dad always says that it’s wrong to use magic on the mechanic devices. They must work naturally according to the laws of physics. Dad only uses telekinesis, for example, to turn a screwdriver. He’s not like the engineer.”

Blackwing’s ears twitched. Was this it? Was he on the right track? “Really now? And what he’s like?”

“Dad says that it’s impossible to build the machines the engineer does, without magic. He cheats. My dad would never do such thing,” Sprocket stated proudly. “And dad builds awesome machines! Wanna see? I’ll show ya!” The colt trotted to some big mechanism, partially hidden under a large canvas.

“All right...” Blackwing would much rather have talked about the engineer and his machines, but, he figured that learning about Gearbox's work could be a useful bit of information. Sprocket could only uncover a part of the machine because of his height; there, visible beneath the canvas, were four wheels and something that Blackwing recognized as an engine on a steel frame.  

“It's an automobile!” Sprocket proudly explained. “It’s gonna be so awesome! And I have a clockwork version of it too! I’ll show ya!”

The colt dove under his dad’s desk and soon he returned to Blackwing with a toy in his muzzle which he placed on the floor in front of their guest. It looked like a carriage with room for four passengers, but with no place for anypony to pull. Blackwing had heard about these ‘automobiles’ before, but there were only prototypes in Canterlot. And yet, here in the farthest corner of Equestria, somepony had built one. And apparently miniatures too.

“Nice toy.” Blackwing admitted.

“I’d show ya how it works, but I can’t find the key...” Sprocket looked around and shrugged. “Let’s try anyways.” He closed his eyes and concentrated. A surprised Blackwing observed as the colt’s horn started to glow and soon, something clicked inside the toy and it started to move. “Here we go. See? It works.” Sprocket proudly pointed a hoof towards the toy automobile which was now driving in circles slowly around the pegasus. 

Blackwing stared at the toy, stunned at what had just happened. This little colt had just cast some variation of the 'Come to life' spell on a clockwork toy. Most unicorns his age shouldn't even be able to levitate a quill, yet  here was magic at a level taught in the School for Gifted Unicorns' advanced classes. And he did it so naturally,  as if the spell was already in him. Blackwing stared at him, his mouth agape.

“D-did you just... make that toy move?” he stuttered.

Sprocket looked at him with a sudden look of terror. “Please, please don’t tell dad! He hates it when I do this kind of thing.” He stopped the toy with his hoof and hid it in some box by the wall just as the back room door opened and Tank and Gearbox returned. They both looked serious, but calm. Especially Gearbox, he had a specific, somewhat relieved expression on his face. Tank noticed that Blackwing looked like he had just seen a ghost and the earth pony gave him an inquiring glance. Blackwing shook his head, as if he were trying to wake up from some dream, and quickly regained his composure.

Gearbox didn’t notice his son standing by the wall with a guilty expression and terrified eyes; there were other things on his mind at the moment. “So... Blackwing, right? You had some questions ’bout my machines?”

-----

It was already dark when Tankard and Blackwing left the workshop and all the gas lanterns on Sawyers’ Street  had been lit. The duo had spent a good couple hours at Gearbox’s, the mechanic had eagerly talked about his work and machines. Unfortunately for Blackwing, he wasn’t able to give any real new information on what he was there for. He had learned that Shadington had always been highly mechanized for such a small town. The machines helped ponies in various areas of life and work and when they broke, Gearbox would fix them; and he could fix virtually anything. Blackwing had brought the drawings Luna had given him, but Gearbox hadn’t been able to provide any useful information about the depicted devices. As for Steamhorn – all that the mechanic could offer was his speculation. He suspected the engineer was fueling his mechanisms with spells of long duration. He also thought that Steamhorn’s devices had some kind of magical protection, as they would almost never break. It could be simple jealousy, but Gearbox’s suspicions depicted the mayor as a dishonest fraud.

“Tank?” As they were walking down the Sawyers’ Street, Blackwing decided to ask his friend about the conversation between him and Gearbox.

“Huh?”

“Care to tell me what Gearbox wanted with you?”

“Why?” 

“If it’s okay with you of course... I mean, I’m just curious. He seemed kinda worried at first...”

Tank sighed. “He’s ill and has to go to the Balefast hospital, as soon as possible,” he explained. “Gearbox wants me and Coldie to take care of his kid.” 

Blackwing looked at the pavement. He felt a little guilty about asking the question now. “Oh, I understand...”  he started as a thought struck him. “Wait. How is he supposed to get to Balefast before Tuesday?”

“His neighbor, Mr. Paddle, owns a tugboat. In the past, it was used to tow barges on the river. The boat’s old as hell, but it stays afloat somehow. Paddle offered to take him tomorrow.” After that, the two of them walked in silence for a while. The street was empty, as if everypony had gone to sleep once the sun had set. “You could go with them. Y’know, if you wanna meet the mayor sooner,” Tank proposed as they approached his house.

Blackwing had been thinking about the same thing. However, he wasn’t quite sure that he wanted to meet the mayor just yet. He had heard a lot about Steamhorn and now, something told him that he needed to be well prepared for that meeting. Also, part of him ridiculously feared the mayor might turn out to be the dangerous, rogue mage he was looking for. Of course, Steamwand would have to be over five hundred years old by now; but on the other hoof, wizards sometimes live very, very long lives. At least they did in fables.

“I’ll just wait, you know. No need to rush. I have time,” He answered hesitantly. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Blackwing spotted a motion in some dark cross street. Or he thought so. For when he glanced in that direction, there was nothing... He blamed it on shadow play and his own, silly fears. Tank just nodded.

Soon, they got back home. Cold Pint offered them supper, but they were both still full after the dinner and dessert earlier. It had been a long day, and Blackwing believed he deserved some rest. 

Luna, however, had different ideas. When he entered the room and closed the door behind him, a scroll with a familiar dark blue ribbon materialized right in front of him and fell to the floor. Cameron slowly appeared from behind some crates and gave Blackwing a curious look. It seemed that he had found the dusty loft a perfect place for hunting some delicious insects. Blackwing sighed and picked the letter off the floor and sat down as he cracked the seal in a shape of a crescent moon. He put the letter on one of the crates in the room and began to read.

Dear C.

I’m glad everything seems to be proceeding as planned and you were well received by the citizens of Shadington. You should establish good relations with some locals. It’s important; sometimes it could save your life.
As for your dream, don't expect the answers right away. Some things should become clear in time. In theory, the scene that happened in your dreams should be a symbolization of actual events, past, present or future, that are relevant to your destiny. It may be hard to decipher its meaning, especially since you are not particularly experienced with these kinds of dreams. Just be patient, perceptive, and most importantly, think. Connect the dots and the answers should come to you. 
The fact that you were in control of your body in the dream may suggest that this scene refers to the future and to some choices you are bound to make. What concerns me the most is the cerberus. It seems, to me at least, that it represents some kind of danger and I'm afraid that this could confirm my worries about Steamwand and his creations. 
I will continue my research and contact you if I find anything relevant. In the meantime, keep working, investigate, and make good relations with the locals. Contact me if you find anything, or if more visions occur. I hope I’ve given you enough parchment.
And, of course, don't get in too much trouble. Be well.

Yours, L.

Blackwing hesitated for a while, wondering if he should write back right away. He had learned a few interesting and strange things today and maybe if he shared his worries with somepony capable of understanding, it would make him feel better. He decided to check his supply of scrolls. If they were supposed to exchange letters every day, he would quickly run out of parchment. And these were special scrolls, enchanted by the princess herself. If the letter was started and finished with right words, it would send itself to the right recipient. Very handy if you’re not carrying a dragon everywhere you go.

Blackwing walked to his saddlebags, which were lying by the entrance since he had returned from the market. When he opened one of the bags, a small piece of paper flew out of it and slowly floated to the floor. Blackwing and the chameleon exchanged puzzled looks.

“Was this inside when you were sleeping there?” he asked Cam, but there was no answer. Blackwing picked it up and inspected the paper.

We met in town hall. I think I’ve seen you before and if my assumptions are correct, you have seen me before too. If I’m right, we have some things to discuss. I live in a house inside a big fallen tree, on the north-western edge of the town. Meet me there, after dark. 

Crystal Vial

> Night Owls
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



Blackwing soared across the clear night sky; the celestial bodies lit his way as he flew above the sleeping town. Remnants of smoke drifted into the sky from a few chimneys and all lights, save for the street lamps on the main streets, were turned off. He wasn’t sure why he had decided to meet this stranger. Out of curiosity? She seemed familiar, of course, but such things happened when you travel a lot. Yet there was something intriguing about it. A nagging feeling, that if he had stayed at Tank's house, he'd miss something important. He knew he wasn’t sleepy anyways; Blackwing had never been one to go to bed early and it felt good to fly in silence, accompanied only by Luna’s moon. 

Or he thought. But there was another winged silhouette in the night sky. Hiding behind chimneys, just out of his field of view, a pair of purple eyes followed him with curiosity and suspicion.

Unaware, Blackwing flew steadily towards the edge of the forest. He soon noticed a huge fallen tree; the dead, leafless branches and moss covering large parts of the bark suggested that the log had been lying there for years. A sign over the entrance with a vial of some liquid and a stem with a couple of leafs suggested that the tree was a house for somepony. Warm candle light glowed inside, just visible through the drawn curtains in the windows. Blackwing landed before the entrance and knocked. As the door opened, he saw the green-coated unicorn mare he had seen before, both in the town hall and the market.

“Oh good, you’re exactly on time. I’ve just boiled some water. Would you like some tea? Or maybe some coffee?” Crystal Vial noticed Blackwing’s puzzled impression. 

"Crystal Vial?" he asked, slightly confused.

“Yes that's me. Please, come in. I’m going to explain everything in a minute.” 

Blackwing nodded and entered the tree house. Inside was a big room, with lots of bottles and jars on shelves and a shop desk. Crystal pointed him towards a doorway that led to the living room. “Make yourself at home. What would you like to drink?” Her accent sounded radically different from the other citizens of Shadington; it sounded so Canterlotian.

“Coffee, please,” Blackwing answered and she nodded and went through a different doorway, presumably to the kitchen. He entered the large, but cozy room with a fireplace, some shelves with bottles and books, armchairs, and a round table made of oak standing in the center. Blackwing took a place in one of the armchairs and soon, Crystal Vial joined him, levitating a tray with two cups, sugar, and cream in front of her. She placed the tray on the table with a little cling and sat down.

“I’m surprised you came. My invitation must have looked rather suspicious,” Crystal started, levitating a cup of tea to her muzzle. Blackwing noticed that she was older than him, rather slim and tall; her voice was quite low for a mare and her cutie mark was identical to the sign above her shop’s entrance – a vial and some herbs. “But the fact that you're here, proves I was right.”

Blackwing nodded as he added some cream to his coffee. “Probably. The moment I met you in the town hall I knew I had seen you before. Are you from Canterlot?

Crystal smiled inscrutably. “What’s your name?”

“Blackwing. I’m from Canterlot.”

Crystal lowered her teacup and looked him deeply in the eyes. “Have you had any unusual dreams lately, Mr. Blackwing?”

He froze. “Why do you ask?”

Crystal gazed down at her cup, as if she were observing something on the surface of the tea. “When I left the town hall, I stopped and stood there in the town square for a few minutes, trying to remember where  I'd seen you before. I figured that we'd met in a dream realm.”

“What dream do you have in mind?”

“I’ve had the same dream for a few weeks now. I run somewhere and I know I have to warn somepony. And I wake up before doing it. But the last night was different. I reached my destination. I was running until I reached and warned you. Then I woke up.”

This time Blackwing really was shocked. Answers should come to you, she had said.

“And what exactly did you warn me about?” 

“Nothing specific, something like ‘Watch out!’ or ‘Run!’,” Crystal answered and took a sip of her tea. Her posture and the way she spoke seemed casual, but really she was observing her guest very closely. “But you haven’t answered my question. Have you had any strange dreams lately? Perhaps ones that relate to those of mine?”

Blackwing hesitated for a moment. This mare couldn’t be considered trustworthy, at least not yet. “I usually forget my dreams when I wake up.” He paused and took a sip from his cup. “Tell me, what made you so enraged at the town hall? I thought you’d tear the receptionist to pieces.” Blackwing decided that he should buy himself some time. Get to know her better. 

Crystal Vial was not one to be deceived easily, but she agreed to play along. “Oh, it’s that Sawbones again. I’m a herbalist and he's the local doctor. Long story short, he disapproves of my methods and hates me personally, so he tells other ponies terrible things about me.” 

A small town in a deep province, ponies with conservative views – probably the worst place to practice unconventional medicine, Blackwing thought to himself. He had always enjoyed his travels and usually found the Equestrian provinces charmingly rustic, but such situations made him appreciate Canterlot that much more.

“I always come to the mayor to ask him for help as an authority here, but he ignores me. He probably knows I don’t like him.”

Blackwing’s ears twitched. “Really? You don’t like mayor Steamhorn?”

“Well, yes… why do you ask?”

“It’s still my first day in this town, but you’re not the first pony who admits that.” 

“I know that most citizens of Shadington think that he’s great, both as an official and artificer. But to me, he's suspicious and I think his rise to power was too quick, especially for a stranger.” She was looking somewhere over Blackwings’ shoulder, giving him a hint that she wasn’t telling everything. Soon her eyes returned to him. “But you've successfully dragged me from the main subject of our little get-together and I don’t like that.” 

Blackwing sighed. “Don’t get me wrong but… to me you’re a stranger. One who puts messages in saddlebags with the skill of a pickpocket, who asks me to meet them after dark, and then talks about dreams and visions. Not sure if I trust you.”

Crystal Vial chuckled. Her laugh was strange, warm, but not happy. “Understandable, I suppose. But if you’re so suspicious, why did you take a drink from me? You know I’m an herbalist.” Blackwing looked at her with an expression of horror. She chuckled again, a bit warmer this time. “A terrible joke of me, but I couldn’t help myself. Sorry. Sawbones spreads rumors about me putting terrible things in my potions and it’s made me develop a dark sense of humor.”

Blackwing still stared at his cup of coffee despite Crystal’s reassurance. “So I’ve heard. Some even say you’re a witch.” Convinced that his drink was safe,  he resumed drinking.

Crystal smiled, but in a sad way. Blackwing guessed that there was something else upsetting the herbalist than just silly talk about witches among townsfolk. “Usually, I just try to make fun of it, but sometimes…” She paused, looking somewhere among his shoulder. “A witch, huh? Oh, never mind. You’ve eluded me again, haven’t you? You’re good at this.” Crystal smiled again, a bit more merrily.

Blackwing smiled back. “Thanks. There’s a reason I’m not sharing everything with you just yet. I’ll make up for it in a moment.” He paused, concentrating on something. “I told you I came from Canterlot, but you’re the first pony to not ask me why.”

The mare raised an eyebrow. “No, I didn’t. Should I?”

“Probably. But I couldn’t tell you everything anyways. At least not until I hear your story. For now, let’s just say I’m on official state business. That’s more than I’ve told anypony else here so far.” Crystal was observing him even more closely, obviously intrigued. “Miss Vial, you’re not from Shadington. What brought you here?”

Crystal’s sad expression returned. “My grandparents lived here. I was born in Balefast, but my parents moved to Canterlot when I was still a foal. I grew up in the capital.”

“All right, that explains the accent,” Blackwing mumbled to himself.

“I was in the school for gifted unicorns. I graduated, but not with very good results.” Crystal was looking down at her empty teacup, as if she were watching the scenes from her past in the bottom of the cup. “I always wanted to be a wizard, but my talent was nothing compared to others. Especially if you consider unicorns like, oh I don’t know, Twilight Sparkle for example.”

Blackwing managed not to drop his cup on the floor. “You were at school with Twilight Sparkle? As in the Twilight Sparkle, The Element of Magic?” He stared at her blankly.

Crystal sighed. “Yes. She’s one year younger than me. And she wasn’t the only one with talents superior to mine.” She paused, remembering something. She levitated her empty cup to the table where it landed with a quiet cling. “I had to face the fact that I was not going to be a wizard, even if my diploma suggested otherwise. I wouldn’t stand being mediocre.”

“Graduating from Princess Celestia’s school for gifted unicorns is far from mediocrity,” Blackwing pointed out, but Crystal just ignored him.

“There was one thing I was really good at. Probably the best out of all the students. Elixirs, and alchemy in general.” A spark of pride glowed in her eyes as she spoke. “I decided to hold on to that and became an herbalist. And I thought; where could an herbalist have a better chance at work than in a deep province. Few doctors, lots of useful plants everywhere. I returned to the land my family came from.” Crystal’s voice tuned in a bitter note. “Not such a great idea it seems. And now they’re calling me a witch… what a mockery.”

Silence reigned for a minute or two. For Blackwing it was obvious, that with her qualifications, Crystal had chosen the worst place to live in Equestria. Immediately he started imagining her as an alchemy teacher, or as a member of the Royal Academy of Science. He guessed that there must had been something more to it. Something that had made her move to this Celestia forsaken town.

“Is that all you wanted to know, Mr. Blackwing?” She asked, interrupting his train of thought.

“Not really. And please, just ‘Blackwing’.” He smiled as Crystal nodded. “I’d like to hear more of your opinion about the mayor.”

“Oh, him…” She remained quiet for a couple of minutes as she tried to verbalize her thoughts. “They say that his machines never break down. I have even heard that he fuels his devices with magic. And that would be against the law, wouldn’t it?”

Blackwing nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard that too,” he agreed. “And not just from anypony, but from Mr. Gearbox, the mechanic.”

“But that’s not what concerns me the most.” Crystal rose from her seat and walked to the window. She stood there for a minute in silence. The only audible sound was the fire cracking in the fireplace until she spoke again. “I’ve told you that my grandparents were from Shadington. I wanted to learn something more about the history of their hometown. Since there’s no library here…”

“You wanted access to the archives at the town hall,” Blackwing finished for her.

Crystal turned from the window to face him again. “Exactly. I was using the archives for a week, and when I came back after a weekend, the receptionist wouldn’t let me in.”

“You needed the mayor’s written permission?” He gave her a sly smile.

“Yes. Is that what you were trying to do today? Access the archives?” She asked and Blackwing nodded. “I see… well, I had been luckier than you, at least for a little while. I was given the permission, but I had to renew it every time I wanted to access the archives.” Crystal returned to her seat and continued. “It worked. I continued my studies but something was wrong. Publications were disappearing, others were censored and then, one day, they refused to renew my permission.” 

Blackwing eyed her warily. “Are you trying to say—”

“I think that there is, or was something in those archives that mayor Steamhorn wanted to keep to himself,” She interrupted, lowering her voice almost to a whisper as if somepony else was listening. “I had been reading about the town’s history, its development, former mayors, and there was something Steamhorn didn’t want me to know.”

Silence fell in the room, yet the air between the two ponies was so thick that one could slice it with a knife. For Blackwing, it was one of these moments when he didn’t know if he should be more excited or worried. Crystal Vial, on the other hoof, couldn’t fight off the joy of being taken seriously and understood. If she had shared any of this with somepony of the locals, she’d become a laughing stock. Yet she knew that the matter remained grave. After a couple of minutes Blackwing broke the silence.

“Miss Vial—”

“Just Crystal please.” She smiled sheepishly, which looked unusual on her serious, adult face.

Blackwing nodded. “Of course. Crystal, do you know who the first mayor of Shadington was?”

She tried to recall something for a moment, but soon gave up on it with no effect. “No, I’m afraid I hadn’t reached that part of the archives before my permission was revoked.”

He gave her an inscrutable smile. “Then let me tell you a little bit about history. And about dreams, too.”

- - - - - 

It was well past midnight. Crystal had made more tea and brought some snacks for them while he talked. For the last hour Blackwing had talked about his work; his mission, Steamwand, the ‘Steam Key’, and his ‘prophetic’ dream. Maybe he had been a little reckless, sharing everything like that, but it felt really good to simply trust somepony. At first Crystal had been a little dumbfounded when she had heard that the Princess of the Night herself had some interest in this little town. However, after Blackwing had shared the reasons for that with her, she became even more worried than before. 

“Well then,” Crystal lowered her voice to a confidential whisper. “If you’re such a stealth specialist, why don’t you simply sneak into the town hall and look for clues or browse through the archives.”

“Oh, I don’t know. If something really important was there, wouldn’t Steamhorn have removed it from the archives long ago,” Blackwing responded in a similar whisper, then realized. “Why are we whispering? You think somepony might be listening?”

Crystal Vial looked nervously around. “No no, of course not. I think I just got carried away.” She gave him an insecure smile.

“Well then,” Blackwing rose from his armchair, “I’ll consider it. But for now, I should go. It’s really late.”

“We only know that something’s wrong and we should stay vigilant. But we know nothing for certain,” Crystal said, with a little hint of irritation. “You need to find out more Blackwing. And you can count on my help.”

He nodded. “I appreciate your aid.” He glanced through the window at the clear night sky. “I hope that my boss will be able to share some more information. I have no real idea what we should be looking for right now.” 

Crystal Vial walked her guest to the door. Blackwing thanked her for the tea as he took off. A gentle, cool breeze was blowing and the stars shined perfectly in the cloudless night sky. It was something he always missed in Canterlot – the sky in the countryside was clearer and darker, even more beautiful. Usually flying under Luna’s moon helped him to clear his mind, but this time there were just too many questions and too few answers. Blackwing didn’t know if he would be able to fall asleep this night. It wouldn’t have helped him either if he had known that a pair of purple eyes were following him as he flew all the way home.

- - - - - 

“Blackwing really likes to sleep in, doesn’t he?” Cold Pint was busy washing the dishes, while Tankard, seated by the table, browsed through the local newspaper. “Well, he’s just missed some great pancakes.” Miss Maury’s gambit had inspired Coldie and this morning she had woken up with a strong desire for pancakes.

“U-huh.” Tank nodded, completely absorbed by some article about woodworking. Soon, the loud sound of knocking broke his concentration. “They’re here.”

Both siblings rushed to the door to greet their guests, Gearbox and Sprocket. The mechanic had walked his son to Tank and Coldie’s house while on his way to the docks where Mr. Paddle was waiting for him. Sprocket’s face was a mixture of fear, longing, anxiety, and excitement. His dad was leaving him, indefinitely in fact, but also it was his first time sleeping away from home. Tankard was huge and a bit scary for the little pony, but Gearbox had assured his son that his ‘sham’ is the best pony in Equestria to have fun with; so Sprocket hoped for a lot of good time. School was over and he had nearly two months of holidays ahead of him. The only thing he was really afraid of was spending all of it without his dad.

Coldie, unhappy with the colt’s expression, was quick to assure him that everything  was going to be okay and that he wouldn’t even notice when his father’s absence was over. Gearbox left Sprocket’s baggage, said his farewells, and started out. This day wasn’t as sunny as the afternoon the day before; clouds covered most of the sky. Gearbox wasn’t afraid of rain; he’d brought his raincoat with him. However, even though it wasn’t raining yet, his face felt a little wet already. 

Mr. Gearbox, busy with his thoughts, didn’t spot a young, white-coated pegasus soaring through the sky above him. Memento Maury was in trouble – first, she had overslept and had been very late to work. The chief of the weather team, Heavy Rain, had been very upset about it, as usual. She’d been used to Memento’s delays and this time she had prepared some extra work for the young flyer. Now Memento not only had to clear big parts of the sky, she also had to move some of the clouds above the Fields – the agricultural district of Shadington, make it rain there, and then keep out the clouds coming over from Everfree forest for the remainder of the day. 

Memento hadn’t had time for breakfast and now, in order to find some time for a lunch break, she had to work at the highest pace. With a serious case of rumble, she headed towards the western edge of town where she was supposed to start clearing the sky. It had been her favorite place around Shadington. Not far from the last buildings, slightly hidden in the woods, was an abandoned graveyard, centuries old, and Memento loved it. She enjoyed examining the tombstones (many severely eroded or covered by moss), deciphering their inscriptions, admiring the old sculptures. She even remembered the names of some of the dwellers. It was also a perfect place to have a walk, read some gothic or decadent poetry, or simply relax in peace as nopony else would ever visit the forgotten cemetery.  

Well usually at least. This time, as Memento flew by the graveyard, she could’ve sworn that she had seen somepony behind one of the biggest tombs. She looked again, but couldn’t spot the figure a second time. Normally she would investigate; Memento didn’t like the thought of somepony invading her solitude. But this time, unfortunately, she had another crisis at hand, as her rumble was starting to sound like a snore of a dragon.

- - - - - 

Comet opened the heavy door to Luna’s private chambers and entered. His and Full Moon’s shift had started about a quarter ago, and they had been told that the princess was very busy and had been hard at work the whole night. He had to squeeze his way between stacks of books in order to enter the living room where her majesty, who had called for assistance, waited. When Comet eventually reached his destination, he saw an image of complete chaos, as if Discord himself, not the princess, was working here. There were books, notes, papers lying everywhere, and he could’ve sworn that a tornado must have passed through the room just recently. In the middle of all the mess, surrounded by about a dozen of completely burnt-out candles, sat Luna herself, a pair of glasses on her nose and a very weary expression on her face. 

Comet saluted. “Ma’am.”

“Ah, Comet, welcome,” princess Luna greeted him casually, busy with other thoughts as usual. Her eyes were tired but pleased by the sight of a familiar face, like a castaway finally rescued – from an ocean of paper. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, yes I am tired. I may be immortal, but in no way am I indefatigable. Look, I—” Luna was interrupted by a scroll that materialized right in front of her and gently fell on a pile of other papers. “Now thank you very much Blackwing! That’s exactly what I needed, more reading!” She was almost shouting in her irritation, but a second later, gave way to the overwhelming fatigue. Luna sighed deeply. “I need some help Comet.”

Just like most of the Night Guardians, Comet liked the princess very much, cared for her in a way and, at that moment, he was really worried about her condition. He wanted to assure her that any kind of help would be delivered in no time.

“Of course...”

“This research is too much for me, at least given the little amount of time we have.” Luna sat in front of him, staring helplessly at the stacks of notes in front of her. “We need a professional here.” She took off her glasses and closed her eyes for a few seconds, trying to give them some substitute for actual rest. 

“Do you want me to get you somepony from the Royal Academy of Science and Culture? Or from the Canterlot University? Or both?” 

“No Comet. I want you to get me Twilight Sparkle.”

- - - - - 

The sun had already began to set when Cold Pint and Sprocket let Blackwing have a break and go to his bedroom to rest. For the last couple of hours, he had been entertaining them with various stories about Canterlot, his adventures, the royal palace and the princesses; and they never seemed to get enough. When he finally reached his room, a familiar looking scroll materialized and fell onto the floor in front of him. Excited to hear Luna’s response, he grabbed, opened, and started to read it.

Dear C.

I am pleased to hear that you have found such a skilled and useful ally as this Crystal Vial. She has helped us already and, as she had appeared in your dream, this unicorn will probably have some important role yet to play. However, what Crystal Vial revealed to you about this Steamhorn is rather disturbing. You should find out if there is any connection between him and Steamwand and what information he is trying to hide. The fact that he is away may create a good opportunity for you.
As for the unicorn colt, Sprocket, keep an eye on him. Your current mission is our top priority, but after it is complete, we’ll take care about him and his talents. If Sprocket is really as strong in magic as you believe, I’d have him studying at the school for gifted unicorns in Canterlot rather than trying to develop his abilities on his own in the farthest corner of Equestria.
It will probably disappoint you that I haven’t found any seemingly relevant, new information during my research. The only thing I have found is information of the last project Steamwand was working on before his disappearance. It involved some sort of self-propelled magical machines that were supposed to help ponies in agriculture, industry, and hard labor. I don’t know if this will be of any use, but at the moment I’m stuck under a ton of books and I’m doing the best I can. But there is hardly any information about Steamwand or anything relating to him in any way. Hopefully, I will soon have somepony  to help me with the research and I’ll be able to provide you with some more  information. 
Please thank Crystal Vial on my behalf and assure her that she will be rewarded for her help. Your hosts may turn out to be helpful too, continue your good relations with them. For now, concentrate on finding any actual clues about Steamwand being the mayor of Shadington and any connection it could have to the current mayor. Be well,

Yours, L.

All the clues so far pointed towards one place: the damned town archives. Blackwing sighed. When he had packed his saddlebags last Wednesday afternoon, he had really hoped for some nice and easy historic research for a change. On the other hoof, sneaking had always been ‘his thing’, that’s why Luna had picked him for these kinds of jobs. Blackwing smiled to himself.

“Guess there ain’t no rest for the wicked,” He said as he gave Cameron a smug look. The chameleon stretched his forelegs; as usual he had been sleeping for the most of the day. When Blackwing reached for his black, hooded cape, Cam already knew what was going on. He crawled on his back and hid himself under the cape. Blackwing turned to him and smiled. “Partners in crime, huh?” Cam nodded in agreement.

Blackwing approached the door and placed his ear to it. It seemed that both siblings and Sprocket were in their bedrooms. The colt, who had been given the room opposite to Blackwing’s, was already snoring quietly. Blackwing walked to the window. It was rather dark, though some last traces of the sun were still visible as an orange glow over the horizon. He jumped on the windowsill and took off. He was flying along the Sawyers’ street, towards the town square, traveling from one rooftop to another as he tried to stay out of sight. The streets were almost empty, but there were still a few ponies out there who could possibly see him if he were careless. Soon he reached the town square and, from behind a chimney of some tall house, Blackwing observed the town hall. The square was empty, all of the town hall’s windows were dark; the building was apparently  closed for the night, or perhaps for the whole weekend. Blackwing circled the square from the west, still keeping to the rooftops, and landed behind the town hall. 

In a dark alley behind the building, Blackwing found the rear entrance. The place appeared safe, so he approached the door and reached to the lock with his hoof. Cameron crawled out from under the cape and walked up Blackwing’s foreleg to the door. The chameleon stuck his right foreleg inside the lock and started rummaging about. After about a dozen seconds, something clicked inside the lock. Blackwing sat Cam on the ground and carefully opened the door a little bit. The chameleon peeked inside, then looked at the pegasus and nodded. Blackwing grabbed him with his muzzle and put him on his back before they cautiously entered the building.

When he closed the door behind him, Blackwing was immediately seized by darkness. He stood still for a couple of minutes, letting his eyes adapt to the dark and listened to his surroundings. When he was sure that the building is completely silent, Blackwing proceeded forwards. He walked through a short and tight corridor and opened another door. Judging by the brooms, buckets, and brushes everywhere, he was in some kind of an utility room. It was large, and there were lots of lockers, shelves, cases, and a pair of doors along the walls. Behind one of them, Blackwing found a compartment with even more brooms, rags, and cleaning products. The other door led to a broad corridor he recognized as the main hallway. In the hall, there was a staircase, leading to the upper floors and the thing Blackwing needed the most: a big board with numbers of floors, rooms, and information about what could be found inside them. With some effort, he managed to find the archives on the board in the darkness. The letters were convex and he was using his touch, rather than his sight, to read.  Archives, second floor, room number 217.

Blackwing, cautiously walked up the stairs, but it seemed that the town hall really was empty.  On the second floor, a long corridor with rows of doors on each side greeted him though he found room number 217 easily. The door was closed, but the simple lock was no challenge for Cameron. They entered the archives carefully, Blackwing closed the door behind him quietly and Cam jumped off his back. It had gotten late, moonlight poured through the windows. The big, oblong room was full of shelves packed with books and documents. There were also a couple of old desks and a ladder for reaching the top shelves. 

“Piece of cake,” Blackwing said as he looked around with satisfaction before he turned to the chameleon. Cam just shrugged with a bored expression, as if he wanted to tell his owner that it was pointless to state the obvious. Blackwing half-opened one of the windows as an emergency escape route, then took an oil lamp from one of the desks and lit it up before he dove between the rows of shelves.

- - - - -

Loud and impatient knocking on the front door woke Cold Pint up from her sleep. She rubbed her eyes and took a look at an old wooden clock that hung on the opposite wall of her bedroom. It was midnight; she had gone to bed about an hour ago. At first, she was ready to turn Tank’s life into living hell, for waking her up again, but then she remembered that her brother hadn’t gone anywhere this evening. Irritated, but also a bit curious, Coldie grabbed her nightgown and rushed to the door. In the dining room, she met Tankard, who had also been woken by the knocking as he rubbed his eyes and looked about in confusion. The knocking didn’t stop and Coldie, now more awake, realized that it could wake up Sprocket and putting children to sleep wasn’t something she had any experience with. When she opened the door, Cold Pint stood face to face with the one pony she didn’t expect at all.

“Memento?!” She was staring at her childhood friend, mouth agape.

“Good evening,” Memento greeted her as if this were a casual afternoon visit.

“What are you… I don’t even…” Coldie stammered, not sure what to say.

“I’m sorry for waking you up, but we need to talk.” Memento’s big, purple eyes were full of determination. “Can I come in?”

- - - - - 

Blackwing was browsing through some of the archived issues of the local newspaper; so absorbed was he by it that he let his guard down. He hadn't hear the hoofsteps from the hall. Luckily Cameron was alert. He prodded Blackwing and the pegasus’ ears twitched. He heard it. A quiet sound of slow, careful steps. Somepony was sneaking towards the door of the archives. 

Quickly and as silently as possible, Blackwing grabbed the newspaper he’d been reading and helped Cameron climb onto his back. He left the lamp lit; if he turned it off, that somepony by the door would understand that the intruders were aware of his, or her, presence. Blackwing jumped through the previously opened window and took to the skies. 

He chose a long way home, in case that somepony who had almost nabbed him was a pegasus. Blackwing flew westward, towards the forest, then northwards, between the treetops. When he was sure that nopony was following him, he flew straight towards Tankard and Cold Pint’s house. He landed in his bedroom, next to the bed and stopped to listen. To his surprise, the siblings weren’t asleep. Blackwing heard a conversation taking place in the dining room. He decided to get into bed and pretend that he had been asleep all along, when a different sound attracted his attention. Blackwing thought that maybe he had misheard, but after a moment, he heard it again. He looked in the direction of the sound and saw a small pebble, levitating just outside the window, rhythmically hitting the glass. Blackwing slowly walked to the window and peeked outside to see the familiar green-coated unicorn mare. Crystal Vial was standing there, on the street, waving to him. 

“Come down here!,” she exclaimed in a theatrical whisper. Blackwing did as she asked and landed next to her.

“What are you doing here? How did you know that was my window?” 

“I saw you fly inside, just a while ago,” Crystal explained.

“Fine, why did you come here?”

“I think we might be in trouble,” she answered, a worried expression crossing her face. “I was watering my plants today...”

“Sounds troublesome,” Blackwing mumbled.

“...and I noticed that the petunias under my living room window were ruined.”

“Seriously Crystal?” He rolled his eyes.

“Blackwing! Somepony was standing, or sitting on them.” Crystal looked him in the eyes, a very serious expression crossing her face. “Somepony was eavesdropping on us last night!”

Blackwing didn’t have enough time to feel properly surprised or stunned. As Crystal finished, they heard an indifferent voice from above. “See? I was right.” Memento Maury and Cold Pint stood in the bedroom window looking down at them.

Crystal and Blackwing both looked up, terrified, like a pair of kids caught stealing apples from the orchard. Coldie addressed him, an expression of disbelief and disappointment crossing her face. “What is this supposed to mean?”

Blackwing and Crystal exchanged concerned looks, both trying to come up with a reasonable explanation. Blackwing sighed as he gave up. “Let’s talk inside, alright?”

> Clues
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



They all sat at the big table in the dining room. Tankard, still a bit sleepy, had lit up a couple of oil lamps to provide some more light. Cold Pint, Crystal Vial and Blackwing all wore confused expressions, while Memento Maury looked unmoved as usual. 

“Blackwing, this is Memento Maury. Memento, this is Blackwing,” she introduced the pegasi to each other, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “Memento told us she saw you visiting Miss Vial in the middle of the night yesterday as well as breaking into the town hall tonight,” she addressed Blackwing. “She says you two are plotting something against the mayor.”

“I saw you flying to Miss Vial’s house, but I thought it was rather harmless. Tonight however, when I saw what you did, I decided to act,” Memento explained indifferently.

“It was you! You were eavesdropping under my window and sitting on my petunias!” Crystal cut in, but Memento ignored her.

Blackwing was stunned. “You were following me? But...” Usually, he was the one to sneak behind somepony’s back, to follow others, unaware of his presence. “...uh, never mind. Look, if you were there under Crystal’s window, you know what’s going on. I explained everything back then.”

For the first time something like a blush crossed Memento’s face. “Umm, I...” She looked down at the table. “You were talking for quite a long time. I might have fallen asleep for a while.”

“On my flowerbeds,” Crystal mumbled, irritated.

Blackwing sighed. “I guess it’s time to tell you all the whole truth then. I’ll try to make it as short and clear as possible.” He cleared his throat and threw the siblings a very serious look. “Listen very carefully, I shall say this only once. There is a lost artifact called ‘The Steam Key’. We don’t know what it does, but according to Princess Luna it could be a threat to all of Equestria. It may or may not be in Shadington and that’s why I was sent here from Canterlot. It’s a secret mission, so I couldn’t tell you the truth right away.” He looked at his hosts and to his satisfaction, noticed more interest than distrust in their expressions. “The wizard who had created the Steam Key, known as Steamwand, is believed to have been the first mayor of this town.”

Memento, for a change, seemed interested. Well, it wasn’t too apparent, but slightly visible. It was because of the name. Steamwand – she had heard that name before; or had she seen it somewhere?

“You sure ‘bout that?” Tankard seemed less sleepy than before. He even took out his pipe and started to smoke, observing all the guests very closely.

“Ninety-nine percent sure and now, after a visit to the archives, I know how to confirm that. But I’ll get to it later.” An inscrutable smile crossed Blackwing’s face. It seemed that the locals believed him, and even Memento Maury didn’t look very skeptical. Truth, it’s risky, but it works – two out of three times. “Crystal Vial had been trying to find some information about Shadington’s history, but the current mayor has prevented her from finding anything about Steamwand. I’ve looked myself and almost everything about the first mayor and his times have been removed.”

Crystal blinked and turned to Blackwing. “Wait, almost everything?”

He gave her a smug smile. “Steamhorn overlooked something: a couple of issues of the local newspaper. There were a few articles about Steamwand’s death of very old age and his funeral.”

“Yes!” Memento shouted, ecstatic as she finally remembered. Everypony else looked at her with confusion. “I was sure I knew that name but I couldn’t remember where from. Now I know. Steamwand’s tomb is one of the biggest in the old cemetery.” She paused for a second remembering something else. “And I think I saw somepony hanging around there this morning.”

Blackwing and Crystal exchanged quick looks. “It must have been Steamhorn,” she said, a worried expression crossing her face.

“We must find what he was looking for,” Blackwing stated firmly and stood up.

“What, now?” Coldie raised an eyebrow. “Couldn’t you wait ‘till morning?”

“No time to lose,” he answered and headed towards the door. Crystal followed him.

“I’m going too,” Memento stated indifferently. “I’ll show you the way.”

Blackwing sighed and shrugged. “Whatever.” He was still a bit angry with Memento and her assumptions.

“Wait a minute.” Coldie disappeared behind a kitchen door for moment. She returned with something that looked like a wide, steel pipe with a wooden butt and a flintlock. “Now I’m ready.” Tankard, Blackwing and Crystal gave her questioning looks. “What? It’s a shotgun. It shoots pins.”

Blackwing wasn’t even trying to stop her. Coldie seemed very serious and determined. Besides, she was armed. 

“You’re going too? With this?” Crystal asked, unsure if the younger mare was serious.

“Of course. No holding secrets from me anymore. Tank—”

“No sis’. You’re not going anywhere in the middle of the night. Not without me.” Tank was very serious and Cold Pint couldn’t oppose the huge stallion. Blackwing just rolled his eyes.

“But Sprocket—”

“Will be asleep ‘till mornin’. But you can stay and guard him if you wanna,” Tank replied. “Besides, he’s not a lil’ foal anymore.”

Blackwing sighed. He didn’t like the idea of having company at all, with the exception of Cameron. While the siblings discussed who should go and who shouldn’t, he walked upstairs to his room. He took the chameleon with him, stopped by Sprocket’s bedroom and listened for a few seconds. When he heard a quiet snoring, Blackwing returned to the dining room. 

“The colt is asleep. Leave him here or stay at home, both of you.” He addressed the siblings. “I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Tank and Coldie both wanted to go so they agreed to leave the sleeping Sprocket. The next day was Sunday and the colt was likely to sleep in anyways. Just in case, Coldie left the lamps in the dining room lit and put some cookies and milk on the table. Soon, the procession led by Memento headed from the siblings’ house, through the empty streets, and towards the edge of the forest.  

- - - - -

Moonlight poured through the tall windows of the hallway as a Night Guard opened the door to Luna’s studies for Twilight Sparkle and Spike. The teenage dragon, almost as tall as the unicorn, was carrying a stack of over a dozen of books. When they entered, they passed by mountains of thick tomes and folders of notes. 

“Gee, Twilight. You didn’t have to bring your own books. Looks like she’s got enough of her own.” Spike breathed heavily under the weight of his load.

“It’s not about the quantity Spike,” Twilight answered.

“It is to me,” he grumbled as they entered Luna’s living room.

The princess was snoring quietly as she laid on her desk next to an empty mug. Luna was surrounded by candles, notes and books; the room was almost literally swimming in paper.

Twilight coughed in attempt to wake her up. “Ehk, Your highness?” 

“Wha-what?” Luna said as she was startled from her sleep. She jumped and knocked over the empty mug as she looked around and noticed her guests. “Oh. Good evening Twilight Sparkle, good evening Spike. Forgive me; I haven’t had much sleep as of late.”

“Figures,” Spike whispered to Twilight.

“Spike!” she scolded him in similar whisper. Then she addressed Luna. “Your highness, we came as fast as we could.”

“Yes, I appreciate it very much.” Luna smiled at Twilight, but her smile was interrupted by a big yawn. She covered her muzzle with a hoof for a second. “Oh, and you know that you, of all ponies, can call me by my name, Twilight.”

Twilight Sparkle smiled back. “Yes, I know Luna.”

Luna gave her forelegs a stretch and made her way through the piles of books and notes towards her guests. “You will have to forgive me for the mess as well.”

“I’m sure my number one assistant will take care of it.” Twilight grinned, while Spike, obviously unhappy about the perspective, grumbled something under his breath. 

“That’s very nice of you. Tell me Twilight; are you familiar with the subject of our research?” As she spoke, Luna levitated the stack of books from Spike’s hands to her desk to the dragon’s relief.

The unicorn nodded eagerly. “Machine magic. I’ve read a thing or two. We’ll be focusing on ‘Steamwand’, right?”

“Yes. My latest findings indicate that he had been experimenting with some variations of the spontaneous animation spell.”

Twilight frowned. “Oh. That was prohibited even in his times.” She brightened up. “I remember a book I read a couple of years ago about that.”

- - - - -

They walked through the woods for a while before they reached a big clearing. It was rather bright, despite the late hour; the moon was shining and the night sky was clear. The graveyard was surrounded by the rusty remains of an iron fence. They could spot a few dozen tombstones and sepulchers, some small and destroyed, others big and magnificent, despite the moss trying to cover everything in sight. The most frightening things in the cemetery were the stone statues of ponies on some of the tombs - tall dreadful figures, centuries old, often crippled, missing a limb, a wing or a head; they gazed at their visitors with their blind eyes.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Memento Maury commented.

“Gives me shivers,” Cold Pint responded. She still felt insecure despite the shotgun and  supply of pins in her saddlebags.

“Which one is Steamwand’s?” Crystal Vial asked Memento.

For the first time, perhaps because of the circumstances, Memento smiled. She led the group to a large tomb, maybe the biggest of all on the graveyard, at least among those that were still intact. It wasn’t as damaged, as if some spell had made it more durable than the others. Its rectangular base was almost two meters tall, with four columns set at each corner. On top was a tall statue of some alicorn mare, standing on her hind legs, with a pair of very large wings reaching forward, as if she was trying to put them together in front of her. Between the two front columns was an epitaph. All five ponies approached it and read the inscription.

To wander the Elysian Fields
Few ponies are allowed,
Only the wise and courageous
Will get to the other side.
To cross the river with heroes
Just spread thy wings and fly.

Here lies Steamwand,
The visionary, the inventor,
The mayor of Shadington.

“That confirms it,” Blackwing mumbled to himself.

“Yeah... what’s with the poem though?” Coldie asked as she scratched a hoof against her forehead.

“It’s an old verse, one traditionally placed on pegasi tombs. It originates from the period before the founding of Equestria. The pegasi were a tribe of warriors and they believed that the greatest among them were permitted to live after death in the Elysian Fields. This inscription was supposed to help the spirit ascend like the greatest of heroes and get there.” Blackwing explained and Crystal nodded in agreement.

“Then something’s wrong,” Memento stated indifferently. 

“What do you mean?” Crystal asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You said that this Steamwand was a wizard, so he must have been a unicorn. He couldn’t have had wings.” Memento answered.

“Well, it could be a metaphor.” Crystal shrugged.

“Or not.” Blackwing was closely inspecting the epitaph again. “There’s no date of death. Suspicious.”

“What do you mean?” Coldie asked as the two earth ponies and the unicorn looked at him with interest and anxiety.

“It may or may not be a riddle.” He leaped in the air to look at the tomb from above. “Somepony, maybe even mayor Steamhorn himself, was here lately. Since I don’t see any flowers or candles, I don’t think he was simply visiting. He must have been looking for something.” Blackwing landed next to Coldie. “And I’m going to find out what and why.”

“Starting with this ‘riddle’?” Crystal asked as he nodded. “Well, if it’s really a riddle, let’s figure it out together. Five heads are better than one, right?” She gave the others a hopeful glance.

There was still some distrust in their little group, but eventually they all agreed to try and look for clues, even the skeptical Memento. She and Blackwing flew around looking for anything unusual around the tomb. Cold Pint walked around it, pushing every stone block on its walls, looking for some hidden switch. Crystal examined the epitaph and Tankard simply sat in front of the tomb, staring up at the intimidating, blind-eyed statue. After about fifteen minutes of staring, a thought struck him.

“Eh, sham,” he addressed Blackwing, who stopped mid-air and turned around to him.

“What?”

“You could just try to do what the poem says.” Tankard kept looking the statue in the eyes. “You know, ‘spread thy wings and fly’.”

Both pegasi stared at him blankly and flapped their wings harder.

“Not yours.” He pointed a hoof towards the statue. “Hers.” 

“But that’s just a stone stat-” Blackwing wanted to respond, but the same thought struck him. “Oh. Tank, you’re brilliant,” he said smiling widely at Tankard. “But I will need your help. And Memento’s too.”

The pegasi helped Tankard climb onto the top of the tomb. He reached out and started pulling one of the statue’s wings, while Memento and Blackwing did the same to the other. Nothing happened at first, but soon the stone wings finally started to move. Slowly, the three ponies managed to set them in a spread-out position. Once set, they heard a noise, like the sound of chain being pulled and gearwheels turning. 

“Look, the wall!” Coldie exclaimed. She’d been standing behind the tomb and now stared at its back wall. The others joined her to watch as it sank into the ground, revealing the tomb’s interior. 

Blackwing, used to such things as he was, trotted inside merrily as the rest anxiously followed. It was dark inside and their steps were silenced by a thick layer of dust covering the stone floor. In the darkness ahead, Blackwing could’ve sworn he heard a faint sound of a ticking clock.

“Aw golly. I should’ve taken some lamp instead of the shotgun,” Coldie grumbled. A second later a faint green light illuminated her unhappy expression. It was Crystal, who put her magic to work and gave them some light from her horn. “That’s better, thank you.”

“It’s still dark,” Memento stated as she glanced around her. “Not like there's anything to actually see here.”

“Indeed,” Blackwing agreed with her. Truthfully, the big tomb was completely empty, except for some carvings on the walls. “No coffins, no skeletal remains, no nothing. What a disappointment.”

“I, for one, feel perfectly content with no skeletal remains around—” Coldie was interrupted by a loud noise of stone rubbing against stone. They all glanced behind just in time to see the exit close before anypony could even make a move.

“If you complained about the lack of corpses, now we’ll have a perfect opportunity to raise the body count,” Memento addressed Blackwing.

He frowned as he looked at the wall, where the entrance had been just a moment ago. Coldie seemed very scared, almost trembling with fear. Her brother approached the wall and tried to move it. Despite the immense strength Tank possessed, his attempts were in vain. The wall stood there like it had never been made to move. 

“It’s not possible for a heavy stone wall like this one to move so quickly,” Crystal stated, a frown crossing her face. “There must have been some magic at work.”

“You think that somepony could…” Tank addressed her, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Give me a moment,” Crystal replied curtly in a way that suggested a massive amount of thoughts were crossing her mind at once. 

She approached one of the walls and directed her light at the carvings. They could see that it was some kind of writing. Also, the stones with the carvings seemed different from the rest of the blocks composing the tomb. Crystal closed her eyes and put a hoof on a carved inscription.

“These are old; very, very old; much older than this place. Somepony must had found them and brought them here. Let me try something.” The green light disappeared and the five ponies found themselves in complete darkness. Then, they saw a faint flash from Crystal’s horn and all the carvings around glowed with a faint blue light. “Runes: Ancient magic. They were placed here to seal the tomb in case of trespass.”

“That doesn’t make sense. If these are some kind of guardian runes, then what are they guarding? This tomb is empty.” Blackwing had learned about runes years ago and he was trying hard to recall this knowledge. “Who would purposely take the trouble to bring ancient runes here when there’s nothing to guard.”

“I… I don’t know.” The runes stopped to glow and Crystal once again illuminated the tomb’s interior with a green light from her horn. “Maybe the tomb had been prepared for storing somepony or something but it was never placed here—”

They all heard the loud noise of the stone blocks moving and gearwheels turning. The ponies all glanced around, afraid of any more unpleasant surprises the tomb could hold for them. Then, faint moonlight started pouring inside as they saw that the entrance was once again opening. They all approached it and waited for the wall to sink into the floor, just to see the familiar red unicorn colt standing on the other side. Sprocket gave them a nervous smile.

“Sprocket!” Coldie jumped to hug him while the others just stared, their mouths agape. “It was you? You rescued us?”

“Yeah…” He seemed very nervous. “Just please, please don’t tell me dad! I’ve heard you were going on some adventure and I just couldn’t fall asleep again.”

Coldie hugged him tighter, tears forming in her eyes. “It’s okay. You saved us. We coulda all died in there without yer help.”

“We’d manage,” Blackwing mumbled under his nose. 

“Wait. What actually did you do? Tell me.” Crystal approached Sprocket and eyed him very closely.

“I came here and hid behind that tombstone,” he pointed one of the graves. He was obviously a bit afraid of Crystal. She noticed that and it made her expression soften. “When I saw the tomb closing, I wanted to rush and help you but… I was afraid… afraid of ghosts.” He sniffed, as his eyes began to wet.

Crystal smiled at him. “Oh dear, there are no ghosts here. We checked.” Tank and Blackwing nodded in agreement. “There’s nothing to be afraid of now.”

“B-but I’ve seen one! He appeared out of nowhere,” Sprocket pointed a hoof in a direction of a couple of big tombs. “He stood there and watched you. He had a long cape with a hood.  I had to wait ‘til he went away.”

Crystal and Blackwing exchanged serious looks. “I see. You’re a very brave colt. And what did you do later?” she asked.

Sprocket brightened up a bit. “The mechanism seemed simple enough, I just made the wings move like you did and it opened.” 

“Of… course…” Crystal processed his statement with a blank expression on her face while the siblings hugged Sprocket and Blackwing tapped him on the back with appreciation.

- - - - -

A gentle prod in her side woke Princess Luna up. She squinted as bright rays of sunlight poured through windows to lay on her face. It was morning.

“Morning!?” Luna exclaimed as she jumped, almost knocking down Twilight Sparkle who had just woken her. “But I didn’t lower the moon!”

“About that, Princess Celestia was here a couple of hours ago. When she saw how tired you were, she decided to lower the moon herself so you could sleep some more. She’s really concerned about your condition, Luna,” Twilight explained. 

“That’s nice of her,” Luna said as she suppressed a yawn. She blinked a couple of times and rubbed her eyes. “It’s awful that this research is interfering with my royal duties like this. But I simply cannot stop working, not when we have no real clues about what we’re dealing with. I hate feeling useless.” The last sentence was quieter and a little bitter.

“Then you’ll be happy to hear that we finally have some actual information. That’s why I woke you up,” Twilight said as she grinned at Luna. She looked tired as well, but not half as tired as the princess. “There’s an interesting bit about Steamhorn in those archives from Fillydelphia.”

“Steamhorn? Really?” Luna enlivened a bit.

“He was an engineer and inventor. And he died in Fillydelphia, more than twenty years ago.”

“Now that really is interesting.” Luna put a hoof to her chin as she glanced somewhere outside the window.

“There’s more. It seems very possible that he was a descendant of Steamwand. I’m still working on it, but he may have also been related to some other infamous unicorns.”

“Blackwing must be informed right away,” Luna said as she stomped a hoof with determination. It woke up Spike, who’d been snoring quietly on the sofa until then.

“Oh, I forgot to mention.” Twilight levitated a familiar scroll with a dark blue ribbon in front of Luna. “You’ve got mail.”

- - - - - 

Crystal Vial had just finished preparing her meal. Early afternoon was pretty late for a breakfast, but she didn’t care. She had allowed herself the luxury of sleeping in on Sunday after the previous night’s escapade. She had woken up around midday in a surprisingly good mood considering the disturbing events she had witnessed not so long before. She realized that it wasn’t caused by the possibility of terrible death in that tomb, but by the fact that, despite potential dangers, finally something interesting was taking place in Shadington; in her life.

Crystal put her plate and a cup of coffee on a wooden tray and levitated it in front of her as she left the kitchen. As she entered the living room, only her supreme skills in levitation saved the meal from a crash landing on the carpet as she halted in surprise.

“Hello there,” Blackwing greeted her as he chuckled at her surprised expression.

“You startled me. I don’t remember letting you in,” Crystal said. She regained her composure quickly and took a place at the wooden coffee table. The tray landed on it with a quiet knock.

“I entered through the window in the back. I didn’t want anypony to notice me coming here,” he explained patiently.

“Fine, just don’t make a habit out of it. Do you want something to drink?” Crystal asked as she reached for her cup with her magic.

“No, thank you. I just dropped by to share some news with you,” Blackwing said as he smiled at her mysteriously. “This morning I received a letter from Princess Luna. She found out that engineer Steamhorn lived in Fillydelphia and he passed away over two decades ago.”

“Oh.” Crystal lowered her cup, a blank expression on her face. “That can’t be good.”

“Depends on the point of view. It’s a useful piece of information about your mayor, something we lacked on lately.” Blackwing seemed certainly happier about it than she was.

“I see more new questions than answers,” Crystal said as she frowned into her coffee cup.

“Yes. That’s why I’ve decided to pay him a visit,” he said as he grinned at her. “Tell me, is Steamhorn married? Or does he have any family here in Shadington?”

Crystal raised an eyebrow. She observed Blackwing for a moment before she answered. “No. He lives alone.”

“Good. Then if he really is in Balefast, he shouldn’t be at home right now,” Blackwing stated. He got up and trotted merrily towards the door.

“So you’re just going to go to his house, knock at the door and say hello?” Crystal asked, a slight hint of disbelief in her voice.

“No,” Blackwing answered as he turned to her in the door. “You should know by now, that’s not the way I handle things.”

- - - - - 

Coldie had explained to Blackwing the location of Steamhorn’s house. It wasn’t hard to find: an old, recently renovated building by the end of Dockers’ Street, the main street of Shadington that led from the old docks through the town square on towards the Everfree forest. The house was situated near the edge of it, not so far from the abandoned graveyard, as Blackwing had noticed. 

As he approached the house, he dove into a tight cross street. He snuck to the back of the building. The yard in the back was surrounded with a tall wooden fence but Blackwing noticed a small window in the loft had been left open. He made sure that nopony was watching and he flew up to the roof. After a cautious peek inside, he squeezed himself through the window.

Blackwing found himself in a dusty old attic. It was full of old, shabby furniture, with about a half  dozen rolled carpets, some paintings, and a number of various boxes filled with Celestia knows what. In the middle of the room there was a large wooden hatch in the floor. Blackwing approached it and laid down to put an ear to the wooden boards. He remained in this position for good ten minutes as he listened carefully. Convinced that there was nopony below, he lifted the hatch a couple of inches. Cameron crawled from under Blackwing's cape and squeezed himself through the slot. He waited another fifteen minutes until the chameleon returned. He gave Blackwing a gesture he recognized as a lizard version of thumb-up, which usually meant 'clear'. Blackwing opened the hatch carefully and walked downstairs. 

As he looked around the place, he found a bathroom, a study, and a bedroom on that floor. The bedroom seemed the most intriguing, as there where two beds, two bedside cabinets and two chests of clothes inside. Blackwing browsed through the clothes and he deducted, that both inhabitants of this room were tall, slender stallions and apparently not pegasi, as there were no holes for wings in shirts, jackets, or overcoats he found. After examining the bedroom Blackwing went to the study. The walls were covered with bookshelves top to bottom. He could only guess that some of the numerous books had been borrowed from the town archives. There was only one desk in the room, but it was very wide and there were two chairs on its opposite sides. There were books on the desk as well, some of them Blackwing recognized as historic publications, others were about arcane arts, but one of them stood out. It was smaller and more worn than the others. When he took a closer look, he understood that it was some kind of a dairy or a notebook. He opened it to the last written page, where there were just a couple of sentences written. The letters were beautiful, a calligrapher's work, no doubt a unicorn.

"...the key to the City gate is probably at the end of the tunnel, however we can't be sure. The trick is to enter the tunnels, as one entrance is closed somehow and the other is still hidden somewhere below. However it is possible, that we are close to finding it."

Blackwing gasped, as he read the notes. Not only had he found evidence that 'Steamhorn' was apparently looking for the Key, but also a possible explanation on why the Steamwand's tomb was empty. 

It never was a tomb. 

Blackwing's ears twitched; footsteps echoed downstairs. Apparently the house wasn't empty like he thought. He set the notebook down and opened the window. This time he had even had enough time to close it behind him before he flew away.




> Deep Below, High Above
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was getting dark as they walked through the woods towards the abandoned graveyard. Memento Maury drifted lazily through the winds as she hovered over the rest. Blackwing and Crystal's expressions were obscured by the hoods of their dark capes. Tank and Coldie walked before them, the younger sibling's gait significantly light, given the amount of various necessities she had stuffed into her saddlebags.  

“Do we have to take them all with us?” Crystal whispered to Blackwing as she glanced uncertainly at Coldie, Tank, and Memento in front of them. “I mean, I appreciate their will to help, but is this a good idea?”

“They can be helpful and, like you, they deserve to know what the mayor is up to,” he answered in a similar whisper. And Luna keeps telling me to take all the help I can get, he added in his thoughts. 

Memento lowered her flight so she could talk with others freely. “Are you sure that the kid's not following us again?” she addressed Coldie and Tank as she hovered right above their heads.

“He’s having a sleepover with your little brother at one of their friends tonight, remember? So yes, I’m sure,” Coldie answered. “And you could show some appreciation, after all, he saved your life last night.”

Memento shrugged. “We’re all gonna die someday anyways,” she answered dispassionately. Coldie just shook her head at her.

Soon, the familiar rusty iron fence appeared before the five ponies, as well as the tombs and monuments behind it. Night had come early as clouds crossed the sky, but the moon shone brightly through. This time, they had brought a couple torches with them.

“So you’re saying this tomb's some kind of entrance? I saw no doors inside,” Tank tried to start a conversation as they approached the supposed Steamwand’s tomb. Even for him, despite his size and strength, forgotten tombs were somewhat intimidating and certainly didn't add to his, or anypony else’s, morale.

“If it’s an entrance to tunnels that lay beneath, then the ‘door’ should be somewhere in the floor, which we didn’t examine last time,” Crystal explained.

“I don’t think the guardian runes were placed there just for decoration. They’re supposed to guard the entrance, we just need to find it,” Blackwing added. “But let’s get this thing open first, shall we?”

Just like the previous night, they placed the alicorn’s wings in a spread-out position, causing the tomb’s entrance to open, while Memento found an old stone column lying nearby. Tank, with the help of both pegasi, managed to lift it and put it upright in the entrance to prevent it from closing. The tomb's interior was filled with a warm, yellow light as Coldie lit one of the torches.

“Well, I see no floor, to be honest with ya. Only dust,” Tank pointed out as he breathed heavily after his latest feat of strength. Indeed, the floor was cover by a thick layer of dust, probably centuries old.

“Time for some cleaning,” Coldie grinned merrily as she pulled a feather-duster out of her saddlebags. She noticed slightly puzzled looks of the others. “What? This time I’m properly prepared.”

She started dusting the tomb’s interior while Tank held the torch to help her out. Gradually, she uncovered the whole floor while a large pile of dust formed in one of the corners. Thanks to Coldie's effort, a big square plate was revealed in the middle of the tomb that consisted of a number of small, inscribed stone tablets. 

“Good job. Just like a professional archeologist,” Blackwing said to Coldie with appreciation.

“I get a lot of practice at home. Besides, it was easier than dusting Tank’s room,” she answered as she winked to him. “But look at this.” 

They all lowered their heads to examine the new find. There were ten stone tablets with parts of sentences that formed five verses. The inscription itself seemed enigmatic to say the least. It wasn’t clear to anypony how it was supposed to be read or understood.


[LIKE A SICK EAGLE][MY SPIRIT IS]
[TOO WEAK - MORTALITY][TELLS ME I MUST DIE]
[AND EACH IMAGINED][ME LIKE UNWILLING SLEEP]
[WEIGHS HEAVILY ON][PINNACLE AND STEEP]
[LOOKING AT THE SKY][OF GODLIKE HARDSHIP]


“Another poem?” Coldie asked as she raised an eyebrow. “And I thought the first one was strange.”

“Another riddle I guess,” Blackwing said as he rubbed a hoof against his forehead, a confused expression crossing his face. “But this one just looks like some random lines to me. Like the words weren’t in the right order, or something.”

“Then let’s change the order,” Tank said as he shrugged, like it was obvious.

“We could. If we knew the right sequence and assuming that these tablets actually are movable,” Crystal stated with a frown. 

“Only one way to find out.” Coldie smiled as she pulled a crowbar from her saddlebag and jammed it into her brother’s muzzle. Tank tried to say something, but the iron in his mouth stopped him. He sighed and started hustling with the first tablet. Luckily, it turned out to be movable. It took him more than a quarter of an hour, but one by one, he managed to remove all the stone tablets. Then, they all started to bustle around the pieces of text, trying to find a sequence that would make more sense. Tank was in charge of moving the heavy pieces of stone, Coldie and Crystal were matching words that rhymed with each other, and Blackwing was trying to come up with reasonable connections between parts of the sentences on tablets. Memento hovered above them all, trying to look at the whole text. 

“It looks like Steamwand, or whoever actually created this place, had some serious concerns about the afterlife,” Blackwing stated as he moved tablets with “TELLS ME I MUST DIE” and “TOO WEAK – MORTALITY” together. “This is another poem about death and flying.”

“U-huh," Tank nodded as he moved the pieces. "Hold this would’ya?” He passed Memento two stone tablets with “LOOKING AT THE SKY” and “LIKE A SICK EAGLE” and she almost fell on the floor under their weight. Flapping her wings hard, Memento managed to land slowly and put the two tablets in front of her. As she looked at them, breathing heavily, she realized that the line before her sounded familiar.

“Like a sick eagle, looking at the sky.” Memento read quietly and glanced towards Blackwing’s tablets. “Tells me I must die, like a sick eagle, looking at the sky,” she read out loud. “Wait. That’s Kicks.”

Crystal, occupied with other tablets until that moment, turned around to face her. “What did you say?”

“Gin Kicks.”

“Well, it’s true,” Tank admitted, as he nodded knowingly. “That’s why young mares like you shouldn’t drink pure gin. Mix it with soda, some juice or-“

“I think she means Gin Kicks of Moorgait; a great equestrian poet,” Blackwing explained.

“Oh, thaaat Gin Kicks,” Tank said and nodded. The siblings exchanged puzzled looks.

“That’s one of his poems. I think I remember how it goes,” Memento stated, here usual emotionless voice only slightly contaminated with excitement. "Take these two and put them together there..." She started to instruct Tank in what order he should place the tablets. The others watched as the text of the original poem was being restored. As Tank placed the last tablet, Memento began to recite it, with just the slightest hint of pride in her voice.


[MY SPIRIT IS][TOO WEAK - MORTALITY]
[WEIGHS HEAVILY ON][ME LIKE UNWILLING SLEEP]
[AND EACH IMAGINED][PINNACLE AND STEEP]
[OF GODLIKE HARDSHIP][TELLS ME I MUST DIE]
[LIKE A SICK EAGLE][LOOKING AT THE SKY]


When the last part was in place, they heard a loud screeching noise and some other sounds that indicated movement of some metal parts underground. The whole stone plate with the text sank into the floor about ten inches and slowly moved aside, revealing a steep staircase that lead into the darkness below. They all peeked inside anxiously. Coldie tried to shed some light on the stairs and the underground tunnel with her torch, but there wasn’t much they could see without descending.

“Dark tunnels, hidden under the abandoned graveyard. Maybe this trip won’t be a complete waste of time after all,” Memento stated as she grabbed one of the torches with her muzzle and started to walk down the stairs. Blackwing, Tank, and Crystal quickly followed suit.

“Yeah, what could possibly go wrong?” Coldie muttered to herself. She swallowed and anxiously walked down after the others. 

After a couple dozen steps the stairs ended and their torches shed light on an entrance to a tunnel, which they entered with little hesitation. It was tight, rather low and descended mildly as the ponies moved forward. Tank had to bow his head a little so he wouldn’t hit the ceiling. The air smelled of moist and mustiness. At first the walls were made of dirt with some old, rotten, wooden stamps, but after about fifty yards or so, it began to change. The tunnel’s walls consisted more of stone than dirt, with less plant roots and less mustiness in the air. After what could be another thirty yards, the five ponies reached a fork. At this point, the surroundings seemed more like natural caves than tunnels. There were no stamps holding the ceiling, only irregular stone walls, a few stalagmites here and there, and the sound of dripping water echoing quietly. They had three ways to choose from, each of them dark and tight. Blackwing took one of the torches from Memento.

“Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute,” he said as he walked into the leftmost tunnel. The others waited about five minutes for his return. Blackwing had some bad news for them. “We have a problem. There’s another fork, not far from here. This could be a real maze.”

The other four exchanged confused looks. Coldie started to rummage through her saddlebags, which caught Memento’s attention. “Let me guess. You’ve got a map of these tunnels in your saddlebags.”

“Nnnope,” Coldie mumbled as she kept digging in her bag.

“A speleological guide?”

“No,” she answered. A moment later, with a smile of satisfaction, she pulled a big ball of string out of her saddlebags and dropped it on the stone floor. “I’ve got this. I hope it’ll be long enough.”

“Well, that’s better than ten shmelelogical guides,” Tank stated, a hint of appreciation in his voice as the others nodded knowingly. Coldie tied one end of the string to a thick stalagmite and the five ponies walked together into the leftmost path; Coldie unwinding the string as they progressed forward.

It was hard to tell how long they walked through the caves, maybe an hour, maybe three. They reached a dozen of dead ends and often had to go back to different forks. Sometimes they had to squeeze through tight passages or cross underground streams. They visited a couple of spacious caverns too, some over three meters tall. The string was usually long enough, until they reached some really long, straight tunnel. It seemed different from the rest of the caves, almost as if it wasn’t natural. Its floor was flatter and more equal, while the ceiling was at the right height for ponies to walk upright. They all agreed to follow that tunnel even without the string, at least to the next fork. But as they continued to walk forward, there was no fork. 

“It just goes on and on; no forks, no end, nothing. And what’s with the smell?” Coldie grumbled as she wrinkled her nose.

“No visible end, no purpose, and it stinks. A beautiful underground metaphor of life,” Memento added, more to herself than to anyone else.

“It smells like rotten eggs. It’s not our food, is it?” Blackwing asked. As they progressed forwards, initially barely sensible, the smell was getting stronger.

“No, I don’t think so. It’s hydrogen sulfide, no doubt about it. Put out your torches. If there’s more gas, we could be in trouble. It’s highly flammable and poisonous.” Crystal explained. She cast a spell and the tunnel was lit by the green light from her horn. They covered their muzzles and kept walking. Soon Crystal’s horn shed light on a big steel door with a valve at the end of the tunnel.

“Finally!” Coldie exclaimed.

“Finally what?” Memento asked as she raised an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t know. Something.”

“Let’s have a look inside,” Blackwing proposed. “Tank, would you help me with this valve? If it’s been here for years, it’s probably hard to move.” Tank nodded and they approached the door.

“Wait. I’m not sure it’s such a good idea,” Crystal said, as she grabbed Tank’s leg in attempt to stop him. “We don’t know what’s behind that door and the intensity of the hydrogen sulfide smell is already disturbing.” At this point they were all covering their muzzles tightly with various pieces of cloth they had with them or, as in Memento’s case, with wings. The smell was almost unbearable.

“Well, it’s either this or going back,” Blackwing stated firmly. “We’ll be careful, I promise.”

The two stallions grabbed the valve together and with some serious effort, they managed to turn it. They pulled the heavy steel door open and peeked inside, but the smell of gas almost literally pushed them away.

“Close it!” Crystal shouted. “And close your eyes, everypony! Now! I’m serious!” All five ponies closed their eyes shut. Blackwing and Tank managed to close the door somehow without the use of sight. “Try not to breathe too much. Let’s back away, quickly!” Crystal commanded. They all moved away from the door for what could be about thirty yards back into the tunnel. They stopped to breathe in some less polluted air.

“Can we open our eyes now?” Coldie asked, the fear in her words audible.

“I think so,” Crystal answered. “Hydrogen sulfide is dangerous in high concentration like this. It can cause blindness or even kill you, if you take in too much of it that is.” She turned to address Blackwing. “Did you see anything in there?”

“I managed to get a peek inside," he answered. "A rectangular room with some vents in the floor. And a similar door on the other end.”

“The gas probably comes from these vents,” Crystal assumed. “It seems we’ll have to go back.”

Blackwing sighed. “Ponyfeathers. This must’ve been the right track. Somepony created this to defend something. Maybe the Steam Key itself.”

“You said there’s another entrance. Maybe we should go look for it?” Tank said in attempt to cheer up his buddy.

“Unless we want a choking death very soon. Let’s vote,” Memento proposed.

“Let’s go and find the end of that string,” Blackwing said as he started to walk in the direction they had come from in the first place.

“Wait,” Crystal said and sighed heavily. “There is a way, I think. But it’s going to be dangerous.” She seemed to be thinking very intensively. 

“Let’s hear it then. You said that this ‘Key’ thing could be dangerous to all of Equestria. If it’s true, then there’s no time to lose,” Coldie stated.

“Ok. If it’s hydrogen sulfide, it can be decomposed if it reacts with oxygen. With that amount of gas, it would take some time, but I could catalyze the reaction with my magic,” Crystal explained anxiously.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Tank asked.

“It’s not that easy. First, I’d have to use up a lot of oxygen from here and that would make it hard for us to breathe. Second, the decomposition of hydrogen sulfide gives us hydrogen dioxide which is bad news, because it’s poisonous as well,” Crystal explained. “Luckily we get water from the reaction as well, in similar amounts. And that’s good news because they mix together easily and also I could magically accelerate this process as well. That would give us sulfurous acid all over the place.”

“Acid? That’s bad, right?” Coldie asked anxiously. 

“Bad, but still a lot better. First, sulfurous acid, contrary to the sulfuric acid, is weak and much less corrosive.” Crystal paused and looked around. It was satisfying for her to see others listening to her with hope instead of the distrust and prejudice she usually experienced from the majority of the citizens of Shadington. She continued in a more confident manner. “Second, since it’s a liquid, it will most likely go down the vents in the floor, leaving at least parts of the floor dry. And third, some of us have wings, right? That could give us the possibility to reach the other door and leave the room.”

“Oh, Crystal. You’re good.” Blackwing said as he grinned widely. She gave a small smile back at that.

“If you’re sure about this...” Tank said hesitantly. “Just tell us what you need done.”

Crystal put on a serious expression in an attempt to look more confident. “Boys – I need you to open the door,” she instructed. “When it’s open, I want everypony to keep their eyes closed and hold your breath until I tell you otherwise.”

There were some anxious glances between the siblings and Memento, but finally everypony nodded in agreement. They approached the door, surrounded by the unpleasant smell. Tank and Blackwing opened it again and everypony followed Crystal’s instructions. While they held their breath and kept their eyes shut, she concentrated on her spell. Crystal’s horn glowed, and they all felt the air moving around them towards the door. Then, for a fraction of a second, the tunnel and the room were lit by a flash of green light, faintly visible even through their closed eyelids. The smell of rotten eggs started to fade towards more bearable levels and they heard a sound of thousands of drops falling to the floor at the same time.

“Now, let’s go!” Crystal exclaimed.

When the four ponies opened their eyes, they saw the dark room in front of them, lit up faintly by Crystal’s horn. There where pools of acid everywhere on the floor, with a few dry spots spread around. Just as Crystal predicted, most of the acid had run down the vents in the floor.

“You two, fly there and open that door,” she addressed the pegasi. Her voice was subdued, as she was covering her muzzle with a flap of her cape.

Memento and Blackwing did as Crystal told them. They flew to the other door, but the valve was wet from acid. Blackwing took off his cape and wrapped the handle with it. They grabbed the valve together through the cloth and with supreme effort, hindered as they were trying not to breathe too often, they managed to move it and the door opened. Then, they helped Crystal and Coldie reach it, lifting them over the biggest pools of acid. while Tank managed to jump from one dry spot to another. When they all got outside of the room, he shut the door as quickly as possible. They found themselves in another tunnel, but this one didn’t resemble a cave by any standards. It had a brick floor, and walls with places to put the torches in, and an arched ceiling.

“It’s safe to breathe now, I think. Everypony okay?” Crystal asked as she looked around at the others with an expression of concern crossing her face. 

“Fine, thanks,” Coldie answered, a little warmth and gratitude in her voice, something Crystal hadn’t heard before from any of the siblings. “Where are we anyways? Somepony’s cellar?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Blackwing said as he glanced into darkness, smiling inscrutably.

“I very much appreciate sacrificing your fancy coat, but what in the name of Celestia do you have on your back!?” For the first time, they all heard an actual surprise and some fear in Memento’s voice  as she addressed Blackwing. She stared, apparently disgusted and a little terrified, at the creature that was no longer hidden under his cape. 

“Oh.” Blackwing turned to look over his shoulder. “That’s Cameron,” he said as the chameleon waved to Memento.

“A lizard.” 

“A chameleon,” Blackwing corrected.

“A lizard,” Memento stated firmly. “I don’t like lizards,” she said as she backed away from him. Blackwing shrugged, and so did Cam.

“Come on Mem. Look, it’s so cute!” Coldie grinned widely as she tried to stroke Cam’s back. Apparently she didn’t convince Memento, who kept looking at the chameleon with utter disgust. 

“So, you carry a chameleon named Cameron everywhere you go?” Tank asked as he raised an eyebrow.

“Not everywhere,” Blackwing answered. “And yes, ‘Cameron the Chameleon’. The previous owner used to call him ‘James’, but that sounds silly.”

"I think it's great that your spirits are up so you can chit chat merrily despite the danger we've faced; but since none of us seems to have suffered any severe acid burns, nor gas poisoning, I suggest we move on," Crystal proposed impatiently. She was still breathing heavily after her last feat of magic and they could all see big drops of sweat on her forehead. "If I remember correctly, we decided to follow this path because there was no time to lose."

"You sure? We're all fine and dandy, but you look mighty tired," Tank pointed out. It was his turn to express some friendliness and concern for the infamous herbalist.

"I'll be all right," Crystal answered as she smiled faintly at the big stallion. "It's just a lot of spell casting in a very short time, something I'm not used to since I moved to Shadington."

The group proceeded onwards, keeping to a slower pace than before. Crystal's horn gave them some faint green light, but only enough to see for a couple of steps ahead. She was tired, but they wouldn't need more light anyways, they were trying to proceed rather stealthily. The smell of rotten eggs slowly faded with each step, and even with great amounts of dust rising from the floor into the air by their hooves, it was still a lot easier to breathe. The tunnel took a couple of right and left turns, but soon they approached another metal door. This one had no valve, knob, or anything to grab in general. Blackwing inspected the door closely.

"If there was a keyhole or something like that, Cam could try and pick the lock," he muttered, mostly to himself. "Crystal, I know you're tired, but maybe you could try opening the door with magic?" Blackwing still had Sprocket's clockwork toy in mind.

"I'm sorry. A better wizard probably could, but I'm not good with mechanisms," Crystal answered as she threw him an apologetic look. "If I knew or understood the construction of this particular lock, then maybe I could try, but otherwise I can't help you." She looked down at the brick floor and the green glow of her horn faded slightly. Blackwing found it hard to understand how, after all of her accomplishments, the recent one included, Crystal still thought herself to be a lousy wizard.

"Hey, don't you worry girl. You did mighty lot today and saved us in a way I don't even understand," Tank said as he approached her. He put a hoof on her shoulder and offered a reassuring smile. Crystal smiled faintly back. "It's just a door. Why don't we just give it a little push?" 

Tank leaned against the door and pushed. Blackwing thought that in his place he would prefer to use his hind legs, but the big earth pony had some exceptionally muscular forelegs, something more typical for minotaurs and bears rather than ponies. After a few pushes the door bent inwards a little, but remained in place. On Tank's request, Blackwing joined him and after few more minutes of pushing and ramming the door with their bodies, they felt it break from its hinges. With a loud, echoing thump, the two stallions collapsed with the doors and anything that was behind it inside another room. Cameron jumped off Blackwing's prone body and brushed some dust off of his shoulders and back.

"So much for being stealthy," Memento grumbled as she flew inside, above the scramble of bodies and furniture lying on the threshold.

When the two stallions stood up, they could see that not only they had broken through the door, but also some big cupboard that had been full of something that looked like old laboratory glass, now turned into shards. The piece of furniture had apparently been placed against the door, most likely to hide the entrance or to prevent somepony from getting in. Coldie found some old candles and lit them to give off more light. The room was oblong and quite big, with a ceiling at the height of about six or so meters. Curiously, there was no other door visible anywhere. The room was filled with various laboratory equipment, glass, some containers, tables, chairs, bookshelves, as well as some maps and drawings hanging from the walls. These were equine anatomy studies - muscles and skeletons drawn with supreme precision to reveal every little detail of a pony's body. Apart from huge amounts of dust and the destroyed cupboard and door, everything else seemed to be in place, as if somepony had cleaned the room and left, centuries ago. The five ponies spread out around the room, looking for anything important or interesting.

Blackwing looked at the rammed door and furniture in front of him. He found it hard to believe that with his help, Tank could take down a heavy, barricaded iron door. He approached Tank, who was inspecting some maps lying on a desk near the entrance. "Nice work with the door. And with Crystal, that was really nice of you," Blackwing said, lowering his voice. "I thought you didn't like her."

"I just can't stand the sight of a sad girl. It's heartbreakin'. 'Sides, I think I could've been wrong 'bout her," Tank explained, lowering his voice as well. He glanced at Crystal, who was inspecting some bottles of long-outdated chemicals nearby. "The fact that she's cute don’t hurt either."

Tank's remark surprised Blackwing a little. As Crystal was a few years older than him and more importantly because he had other things on his mind, he didn't think about her that way. However, he had to admit that she was quite a good looking, slender mare, probably about the same age as Tank. Blackwing chuckled slightly and gave his friend a knowing smile.

"Nopony move a muscle!" Memento exclaimed suddenly, and everypony froze in their places. "We didn't pay attention to the floor. Again." She was hovering above the floor, looking down with an expression grave even for her.

"What do you mean Mem?" Coldie asked as she raised an eyebrow. She looked around herself, inspecting the floor, but apparently failed to notice anything special about it.

"Did anypony stand or walk there?" Memento asked, as she pointed a hoof towards the far corner of the room, where some crates were stacked. When the others shook their heads in unison, she pointed another place, next to a bookshelf. "And there?" Again, the rest shook their heads vigorously. "And of course none of you have laid a hoof here," she guessed, pointing at the floor below her. "Then we have a problem."

"Would you please explain?" Crystal addressed her, a concerned expression crossing her face.

"There are hoofsteps in the dust, all over the place. Fresh and apparently not ours," Memento explained. The others exchanged some worried looks and Coldie had to suppress a yelp. 

"In that case, let's stay alert and look for a way out of here. There's not much else we can do," Blackwing said, glancing over his shoulder towards the rammed door and the dark tunnel behind it.

The five ponies continued inspecting the room, but there was nothing that resembled any kind of exit. They looked behind and under the furniture and they examined the walls as well. Finally Tank found something.

"Eh, sham. Come, take a look," he addressed to Blackwing. "Doesn't look like door, but could be 'nother puzzle."

He was pointing at a rectangular mosaic embedded in the wall that had been covered with a stack of some crates he had removed. It depicted the map of Equestria; or rather the continent Equestria was in. There were no borders, nor names on it; but landmarks such as rivers, mountains, and seas were present. Also, there were three holes in it that looked like places for some missing stones of the mosaic. A Closer look however, revealed them to be rounder and deeper, as if shaped for something specific to be placed in them. Coldie, Crystal, and Memento joined the two stallions staring at the wall.

"All right. A map," Blackwing said slowly, a confused expression crossing his face. He sat on his rump in front of the mosaic and contemplated the image as well as the holes in it. He sat like that for a couple of minutes in silence, with only quiet sound of a ticking clock audible, probably Tank's pocket watch.

"We could try putting something in those holes," Coldie finally proposed.

"Like what?" Memento asked as she hovered above her childhood friend, her forelegs crossed on her chest.

"I don't know. Stuff."

"Hmm. I used to work on a steamboat when I was younger," Tankard started and the others looked at him with a mixture of interest and confusion. "Usually, we plied up and down the river, but sometimes we had an assignment in the open sea."

"I love marine stories, but perhaps we should—" Memento tried to interrupt Tank but Crystal shushed her.

"We used local maps and simple navigation devices, but our captain told us 'bout some methods they use on big vessels and airships," Tank continued. "They use some fancy magic and special maps, but the idea is rather simple. If you have three points and you know the distances from those points to one place, you can find the precise location of that place."

"The basic concept behind the GPS," Blackwing said as he nodded knowingly.

"Geepee-what now?" Coldie asked as she raised an eyebrow.

"GPS: Geometric Positioning Sorcery. Probably the greatest magical invention in the history of transport," Crystal recited. "Interesting. If this is Steamwand's laboratory, it could be one of the oldest GPS maps in Equestria."

As Coldie still showed a rather blank expression, Blackwing took his turn explaining the idea, beginning with a deep sigh. "You put three enchanted objects, stones for example, on the map. Those stones represent some points of known location. When the three stones are together, each of them casts a glowing circle around itself. The place on the map, where the three glowing circles intersect is the point of interest."

"Glowing stones. Sounds cool," Coldie admitted. "But if this map is for that GPS thing, then why—"

"We've got company!" Memento exclaimed and everypony else turned around. She pointed a hoof towards the ceiling. There, in something that seemed like a hatch, they noticed a head of a pale yellow coated unicorn stallion with a red and white mane, beard, and moustache, wearing a monocle.

"Mayor Steamhorn?" Coldie was flabbergasted. Apparently, until that moment she hadn't been convinced that the mayor could really have anything to do with their search and the legendary artifact. In response, Steamhorn disappeared and shut the hatch behind him.

"Get him!" Blackwing shouted. He and Memento dashed simultaneously towards the ceiling and managed to reach the hatch before Steamhorn could seal it for good. The ceiling was so high that the light from the candles didn't expose the hatch and none of the five ponies had thought about searching for an exit above their heads. Blackwing and Memento managed to move the valve and open the hatch. In a second, both pegasi flew through it and disappeared, leaving Crystal and the siblings below.

"Well that was rude," Crystal stated, shaking her head.

"What do we do now?" Coldie asked, still shocked. Meanwhile Cameron, left behind by Blackwing, approached her and prodded her foreleg. Coldie helped him mount her back and when the chameleon found himself a place in her saddlebags, she continued. "Should we follow them, or stay here and examine that GPS-thing?"

"That depends. What time is it?" Crystal asked. 

Tank took a small pocket watch out of his vest and opened it. "Half past ten."

"Then I have an idea," she said with an inscrutable smile. "But first we have to get out of here."

"We could try stacking some furniture under that hatch or somethin'," Tank offered.

"Oh, Tankard, there's no need for that," Coldie said as she threw him a patronizing smile. "That cider you drink must be getting really hard on your head if for one second you thought that your sister would've left the house for some crazy adventures and forget to take a few yards of strong rope."

- - - - -

Blackwing and Memento raced up a broad shaft with a metal telescopic ladder attached to its wall. Even if they had time to stop and expand the ladder to the room below, a thick, rusty chain and heavy padlock would have prevented that. It seemed that somepony had wanted the laboratory sealed. Both felt pretty sure that they could catch Steamhorn before he could escape the deep shaft, but unfortunately, a second before they reached him, he looked over his shoulder and as he saw the determined pegasi right behind him, he cast a teleportation spell and disappeared in a flash of green light. For a second they stopped and exchanged puzzled looks, but the unmistakable sound of four hooves in a gallop not far from the shaft's exit above, indicated that Steamhorn hadn't gotten far. Apparently, he wasn't very skilled in teleportation spells. Memento and Blackwing resumed their chase.

They flew out of the shaft and exited into some small dark room, with a demolished wall. The huge hole apparently had come just recently, as a big hammer and a pickaxe were laying on the floor next to a pile of rubble. Memento and Blackwing flew out of the room following the sound of hoof steps to find themselves in something that looked like a cellar. They dashed through it and up the stairs leading to the hall and the door outside, which had been left open. They could see through the hole and saw Steamhorn turn left into a backstreet and disappear. When Memento and Blackwing left the building they realized where they were; they were by the end of the Dockers' Street, right at the doorstep of Steamhorn's house.

"I know the town better. I'll follow him on the ground so he doesn't hide from us," Memento said in one breath. "You should follow him from above."

Blackwing simply nodded as they split up. Memento disappeared down the same alley Steamhorn had taken a moment earlier and she dove into the maze of old, narrow backstreets. Blackwing soared up in the air and took a good vantage point. The chase seemed to be getting complicated. Even with the almost full moon shining brightly, the town was still very dark, making it easy to hide. From above, he noticed Memento dashing in a crazy zigzag through the alleys, but there was no sign of Steamhorn. Blackwing followed Memento's trail when suddenly, he noticed a flash of green light in some shady backyard she'd just passed by. A fraction of a second later another green flash was visible a block away. Blackwing shouted to Memento, pointed the direction with his hoof, and immediately followed it himself. However when he got there, the unicorn was gone.

Steamhorn could teleport and apparently knew the town's topography perfectly well, but he was probably twice the age of Blackwing and Memento and, of course, he couldn't fly. Running through the streets had to be exhausting for him. However, against all odds, he continued to elude both pegasi. Blackwing couldn't even distinguish any apparent direction in which Steamhorn was headed, apart from the fact that they gone from near his house towards the central parts of Shadington, the old town. He drove through the alleys left and right and each time one of his pursuers managed to spot him, he simply disappear immediately. There were no more green flashes - apparently either he was too tired to perform the teleportation spells, or had learned that it only drew their attention to him. 

Each time Steamhorn disappeared down another backstreet, it took longer to spot him again and after over twenty minutes of flying to and fro above the old town, Blackwing almost lost his hope of catching the impostor. Then, suddenly, he noticed the green flash of the teleportation spell a block away from the alley Memento was dashing through and then another flash at the town square, near the big white building towering above the rest of the old town.

Blackwing turned towards Memento and shouted at the top of his lungs, waking several citizens accidentally. "THE TOWN HALL!"

- - - - -

Crystal, Coldie, and Tank hurriedly trotted through the sleeping town. At times, they could spot Blackwing as he soared above the rooftops, while Memento seemed to have disappeared somewhere. They didn't exchange a word the whole way, not until the docks were in sight. 

"I think we should've helped Mem and Blackwing," Coldie stated between deep breaths, as they slowed down. "I trust them and all, but it didn't look like they had any luck finding the mayor."

"Blackwing and Miss Maury can fly around town chasing after that Steamhorn. Eventually they'll succeed. They have wings, for Celestia's sake!" Crystal pointed out. She was breathing heavily as well. They had run the whole way, and she had been tired even before they had left the laboratory. "Hopefully we will catch the other Steamhorn."

"Yeah. That's the part I don't get," Tank admitted, as they walked towards the pier. They could spot a couple of dockers, apparently waiting for the steamboat to approach.

"Blackwing says that Steamhorn doesn't live alone, but we know he has no family here. Also, he can apparently be in Shadington and Balefast simultaneously," Crystal explained patiently as she wiped some sweat from her forehead with a flap of her cape, now partially destroyed by the acid and rough treatment in the caves. She looked Tank in the eyes. "Don't tell me you can't put two and two together."

"But if there were two Steamhorns, we would have noticed, wouldn't we? He’s been in Shadington for many years," Coldie pointed out, an incredulous expression crossing her face.

"There are such things as doppelgangers and twins. Perhaps they were hiding really well. Otherwise, the mayor never left to Balefast," Crystal stated. She focused her eyes on the river and noticed the shape she'd been looking for. "And we're about to find out. The steamboat is closing in."

They could all see the large frame of the ship, and soon they could also hear its steam engine working, as it slowly approached the pier. Finally, the steamboat came to a halt as it hit the bumpers hanging along the jetty. They could see the sailors bustling around the deck with the moorings as they threw them towards the dockers on the pier. The gangway was lowered and a moment later, Crystal and the siblings saw the familiar, pale yellow-coated, slender unicorn stallion with a red and white mane, moustache, beard, and tail. Steamhorn was wearing a frock coat, a bowler hat, and a monocle. Slowly, he trotted down the gangway, levitating an umbrella and a suitcase in front of him. He came to a sudden halt, when he noticed the trio waiting for him on the pier.

"Well, I certainly didn't expect a welcoming committee, especially not at this hour," Steamhorn said, smiling nervously at Crystal. "Good evening Miss Vial, Miss Pint, Mister Tankard," he added as he repealed his hat courteously. Tank returned the gesture with his cap and Coldie curtsied politely, however her expression was as if she'd just seen a ghost.

"Good evening. You have some rather important things to explain sir," Crystal replied as she threw him a cold, piercing glance.

Steamhorn looked around a little nervously. "Maybe in the morning? I'm terribly sorry for keeping you waiting here at such late an hour, but right now I think we all deserve some sleep. How about we meet tomorrow and then I'll answer any questions you may have—" A loud noise, coming from the direction of the old town interrupted him. It sounded like a mixture of howling and buzzing.

"That's the siren at the top of the town hall tower," Coldie stated. "What is it, a fire?" Everypony on the pier and the sailors on the deck glanced around, exchanging worried looks.

"What do you know, I leave for a couple of days and the whole Shadington is already falling apart, ha-ha," Steamhorn said as he threw them an obviously fake smile. "I think I'll be on my way then. I must look into this immediately," he added as he started walking towards the town.

Tank moved to block his way. "M' afraid I can't let ya do that sir," he said as he reached towards Steamhorn with his foreleg. The mayor frowned, his horn glowed and Tank's hoof met only air as he disappeared in a flash of green light. Crystal and the siblings looked around in confusion just to spot him behind them as he ran towards the town square.

"Get him!" Crystal shouted as the three of them raced after Steamhorn. As he ran, he threw away his umbrella and the suitcase. The latter opened as it impacted with the pavement and the whole street was suddenly sprayed with papers, blown by the late evening breeze.

Even though Crystal and both siblings were significantly younger than Steamhorn, they couldn't gain on him.  He had been well rested, while they were all tired after their underground adventures. They turned right, onto Sawyers' Street, which lead straight to the town square. As the chase closed in on the town hall, they passed by more and more ponies woken up by the siren. Some were already readying buckets of water or medical supplies, as they suspected that fire or some other disaster had happened. 

By the time they reached the town square, the three ponies were finally gaining on Steamhorn. The whole place around the town hall was filling with curious and worried citizens of Shadington. To her discontent, Coldie spotted Sprocket and two of his friends there, squeezing between bigger ponies to get a better view. They must have snuck out to see what was happening, just like the adults, she guessed. In her thoughts, Coldie cursed foals' curiosity and forced herself to run even faster, straining her muscles to maximum.

Crystal dropped out of the chase, as it seemed that the siblings were quickly gaining on Steamhorn at this point and Tank would reach him with his hooves in the next couple of seconds. However, at town hall's doorstep, when the big stallion almost had the unicorn within reach, there was a flash of green light and Steamhorn teleported out of their field of view again. The siblings exchanged quick glances and Tank ran inside the town hall, while Coldie trotted back towards Crystal, who sat on the pavement, trying to catch her breath.

Gradually more ponies entered the town square and Crystal spotted some of her customers and even the irritating secretary from the town hall's front desk. The bystanders were exchanging their ideas about what happened and some even accused Crystal and the siblings of attempting to harm the mayor. Crystal and Coldie noticed the two familiar pegasi circling around the town hall tower. Apparently Blackwing noticed them as well, as he lowered his flight and gently landed on the town square near the two mares.

"You two okay?" he asked right away. 

"I'm fine, just exhausted," Crystal answered. 

"Who sounded the siren?" Coldie asked as she glanced around at the crowd.

"Steamhorn," Blackwing answered. "Where's Tank?"

"Tank ran inside after Steamhorn. The other one, I mean," Crystal explained. "Perhaps the siren was their signal or something."

"Oh. So there really are two of them," Blackwing said, a little surprised that the theory about there being two mayors was indeed true. Crystal nodded in response. "We've been chasing the first Steamhorn for some time but he barricaded himself upstairs."

"What do you mean two? The mayor barricaded himself?!" An irritated voice interrupted them. It was the town hall secretary who stood nearby, listening to the whole conversation. 

"There are two Steamhorns in Shadington and neither of them are real. They're impostors," Crystal explained to the flabbergasted receptionist. The herbalist couldn't fight off the feeling of satisfaction at the look on the other mare's face.

"And one has magically sealed the door to the third floor," Blackwing added. "And all the windows at that height have bars for some reason. Would you be so kind as to tell us what is so important on the third floor?" 

The mare blinked in surprise. "Nothing. Everything from the third floor up is closed because the town hall has just a few employees. We didn't need that much space. We only work the lower floors and the rest simply isn't used. I don't think anypony has been up there in years."

Blackwing and Crystal exchanged worried looks. "I don't like where this is going," he stated.

"You should follow my brother. Perhaps together you'll manage to break down that door," Coldie proposed. Blackwing nodded and turned towards the town hall's entrance.

However, before he managed even one step, a loud, ground-shaking noise startled him and everypony around. It was as if somepony was trying to drive a locomotive inside the town hall's top floor. Memento, who had been flying around that height, backed away and fluttered to a greater distance from the building. The bystanders on the square started to move away, creating a big circle with only Crystal, Coldie, and Blackwing inside. Then, the town hall's dark red roof started to move. To the surprise of the speechless crowd, two parts of the roof started to open, as if it were a huge cardboard box. Some citizens exclaimed their surprise and fear at the scene while others simply watched in a terrified awe. The roof opened fully and a big, round, grey object slowly emerged from the building, like a huge devil in a box, moving in slow motion.

"Could it be...?" Crystal muttered, barely audibly in the surrounding noise.

"No way," Blackwing denied aloud what his mind was telling him.

Memento, who had a lot better vantage point high in the air, dove towards them and stopped to hover right above Coldie's head. "It's an airship!" she exclaimed, trying to outshout the combined noises of working engines and terrified crowd.

As more of the shape emerging from the town hall became visible, everypony could see the big, crimson ellipsoidal balloon, the shrouds attached to it, and its vertical and horizontal stabilizers. Blackwing had seen a lot of balloons, zeppelins, and air yachts back in Canterlot; he knew it couldn't have been a big airship, given the size of the balloon, but it was easily big enough for a pair of unicorns. More importantly, as Blackwing realized, the small and light airships could be very fast and agile compared to the bigger flying vessels. If the Steamhorns had managed to equip their machine with a powerful engine, they could quickly fly away in a couple of minutes.

Blackwing joined Memento as she hovered above the town square and together they headed for towards the town hall's open rooftop. Then, suddenly something cracked in the roof-opening mechanism, and the two moving parts froze in place, stopping the balloon from breaking free. The pegasi accelerated; this could have been their only chance to get at the impostors. Then, suddenly a lot of things happened. 

The mechanisms responsible for opening the roof started to sound again, howling a lot louder than before, but with no effect. Then, a deafening explosion racked the whole town square. The roof started to fall apart as the airship began rising again. It was shaped like an aquatic vessel, possibly to be able to land on water. The design was very simplistic, without any decoration, just wooden planks with brass fittings. The two Steamhorns were visible on the deck as they manipulated brass levers and the steering wheel.

As the roof disintegrated, tiles, beams, and even brick pieces of various sizes scattered everywhere through the air, showering the square below. Fortunately, by this point most of the scared citizens had moved away from the town hall so they were mostly safe. The only exceptions were Crystal and Coldie, who were trying to escape the square, dodging to and fro as pieces of wood and brick falling from the sky. 

The explosion struck the two pegasi in the air most. They were blown away from the building and both struggled to stay in the air. As Memento managed to regain her balance, a large piece of tile hit her in the head, knocking her unconscious. Blackwing noticed that and as her senseless body fell, he dove right after, ignoring various objects hitting him on the way. He managed to grab her a good three meters above the pavement and pulled out of the dive with little effort. He had never been the most agile or the fastest of fliers, but his broad wings served him well whenever he needed a lot of lifting force. After he landed safely among the onlookers and set Memento's unconscious body gently on the pavement, Blackwing noticed that not only was the airship already escaping, but Crystal and Coldie were still in the range of the falling debris. Then, completely exhausted from the last couple hours' exploits, Crystal stumbled on some hole in the pavement and toppled. Coldie tried to help her up, but a huge, pony-sized piece of roof was already falling right towards them. To his horror, Blackwing realized that he had absolutely no chance to reach them in the mere fraction of a second they had left.

Then, out of the corner of his left eye, he noticed somepony step forward from the crowd and the air began to flicker with magic. With a blinding flash of orange light, a magical barrier materialized around Crystal and Coldie. The big piece of roof smashed right into it with an immense force, disintegrating into countless splinters and pieces of rubble. The two mares glanced around in confusion just to see Sprocket standing in front of the crowd with his horn aglow and the most determined expression a little colt could have. Blackwing smiled as he noticed another little flash of light, this time around Sprocket's flank. 

The last pieces of bricks and tiles fell to the square as the airship sped off, its propellers generating so much force that any pegasus trying to approach the vessel would be tossed away. Soon, the airship was just a spot in the dark night sky. In the meantime, Sprocket's spell faded and he fell to the pavement, exhausted. Then he noticed an image of a couple of brass gearwheels surrounded with a cloud of magic, his newly acquired cutie mark. He was back on his hooves immediately and running towards his friends to show it.

Tank emerged from the town hall's main entrance and trotted towards his sister and Crystal. He had a couple of bumps and bruises, but otherwise he seemed all right. Meanwhile, somepony from the crowd managed to wake Memento up with a bucket of water initially prepared in case of fire. She scowled at the crowd around her as she brushed the wet black mane from her face before she and Blackwing joined the siblings and Crystal. 

Tank couldn't believe what he heard about the events outside the building. "Not only does Sprocket do magic, he got his cutie mark too?! Dear Celaystia, there's gonna be a lot explainin' when Gearbox comes back!" he laughed thunderously. 

"And you're all right? What happened inside?" Coldie asked anxiously.

"'Been chasin’ Steamhorn all the way up to the closed door. Then he teleported inside so I had to ram the door to follow him," Tank explained, in a manner that suggested that ramming magically sealed doors was as easy as cracking dry twigs. "When I got there, the roof was open, there was this airship, and they were starting the propellers right in me face!"

Both Coldie and Crystal gasped in horror. "And what did you do then?" Crystal asked with an expression of a little filly reading a Daring Do novel. Both stallions had to suppress a chuckle.

"Returned the favor. I grabbed some steel beam and put it in the gears of their roof-opening thing," Tank replied with a smug smile. "I think they must've blown its engine, trying to force the thing to move. You heard the explosion."

"Heard and felt it as well," Memento added as she massaged the spot on her head where she’d been hit. "Tell me, how did I end up on the pavement, alive?"

"I kind of, um, caught you and put you on the ground," Blackwing explained, smiling timidly.

Memento looked down quickly to hide her cheeks flushing. "That was... very nice of you. Thank you."

"I can't express how glad I am that nopony got hurt," Crystal stated, "but it's a shame that the Steamhorns or whoever they really were, escaped. We don't even know where to look now. With that airship, by tomorrow they could be anywhere."

"If we're lucky, they're not gonna be anywhere but at one of those three places from the map back in that laboratory," Blackwing replied. "We need to search their house. There might be some clues there." He started to walk away slowly.

"Hey, where are you going?" Coldie asked as she raised an eyebrow. "We have no chance of following that flying ship, what are we gonna do?"

"I'm going back to your house. I have a letter to write," Blackwing answered patiently. "Princess Luna needs to hear about all of this right away."




> Interlude - Mare in the Moon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The citizens of Shadington went to bed really late that night. There was a lot of explaining, handled mostly by Memento and the siblings, as both Crystal and Blackwing weren't considered trustworthy by most of the locals. For them it was already hard to believe, that their trusted mayor could had had any ill intentions. The fact that he'd turned out to be not only an imposter who had been deceiving the whole town for years, but two, was something unimaginable. However, the citizens couldn't deny what they'd seen; the explosion, the airship, and the Steamhorns' escape. Though, apart from the deep shock that had quaked the town's community, nopony had gotten hurt and just the houses closest to the town hall had been damaged by the explosion and its fallout. As the new day began, volunteers began to clean up the town square of debris to keep the town hall and town square market functioning.

Blackwing, who had spent a lot of time the previous night writing a report on the recent events for Princess Luna, finally crawled out of his temporary room in the loft. He had fallen asleep right after signing the letter and Luna's response was what woke him up. After a short visit to the bathroom, he slowly made his way downstairs. In the dining room, Coldie and Memento were sitting at the table with full teacups and some biscuits. They were discussing the impact of the previous night's events would have on the town's future.

"...I mean he wasn't just doing the mayor's duty. Think of all those machines in town," Coldie was in the middle of explaining her point to Memento when she noticed Blackwing. "Oh, you're up. Mem just dropped by. There's some oatmeal in the kitchen, 'nless Tank ate it all."

"Hey," Memento greeted him with just the slightest hint of sympathy in her voice.

"Yeah, hello. Where's Tank by the way?" Blackwing asked as he couldn't spot the big stallion anywhere.

"Crystal Vial came here earlier and announced the she was going to search the mayor's house. Tank offered to join her," Coldie explained. "He's also gonna pick up Sprocket from his friend's house on the way back."

Blackwing chuckled slightly as he remembered his chat with Tank in the laboratory. "I hope they find something interesting," he said as he walked to the kitchen. The oatmeal was still warm, so he placed the bowl on a small tray and returned to the dining room.

"Speaking of the kid, I heard he did some awesome magic yesterday. You know, when I was unconscious. Maybe he should go off to some academy for magic instead of the Shadington elementary school," Memento suggested. She mentioned the school with more disdain in her voice, than usual.

Blackwing lifted his muzzle from his bowl. "That's probably gonna be his dad's decision," he pointed out, "but I believe that I have some rather important news that will have something to do with that."

"News?" Coldie said as she raised an eyebrow. "What news could you get while being asleep? You got some kind of special dream again or something?"

Blackwing chuckled slightly. “Luna's letter woke me up." He looked around cautiously, as if somepony could be eavesdropping. "And I want to share what she wrote me with all of you," he added and looked down at his bowl, breaking the eye contact with Coldie. In fact, he wasn't very eager to share the contents of the letter with the others. 

"You'll get the chance," Memento stated. "I think I hear the kid's voice outside. They're back."

The windows in the dining room were all open as the day was sunny and warm, so they could all hear the voices outside. It was Sprocket, talking excitedly about his newly acquired cutie mark, and Crystal mentioning something about various kinds of magical special talents.

Moments later, Tank and Crystal walked into the dining room while Sprocket literally bounced around them, his eyes glowing with happiness. He was still talking excitedly about the previous night's adventures.

"...Fireball and Sweetroll both said it's so awesome! They already got their cutie marks and they know their special talents and..."

"Easy now," Tank cut in as he stopped the bouncing Sprocket mid-sentence. "We've got some important stuff to discuss. You can go and play in the backyard, or somethin'."

"Important stuff?" Sprocket asked as he cocked his head, apparently interested.

"I think he meant boring stuff," Memento explained to Sprocket. He winced at the thought and eagerly trotted outside. "That's how you get rid of kids. Always works with Fireball." she added.

"We've got news," Crystal started.

Blackwing has news too. He got a letter from the princess," Coldie said.

"But please, go first," Blackwing addressed Crystal with a fake smile.

"Alright. We searched Steamhorn’s house, top to bottom. We didn’t find anything very useful, apart from this." She levitated a small brown book from under her cape. 

Blackwing recognized it immediately. "That's the notebook!"

"Exactly," Crystal nodded. "The Steamhorn you were chasing must have left the notebook when he fled to the town hall. I browsed through it and it seems that unfortunately it's only one of many tomes of notes. There're only about a dozen entries in this one, most of them about the search for the laboratory and some curious ponies snooping around."

"Guess that's us. You didn't find any more?" Blackwing asked with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"We flipped the whole house upside down. Nothin'," Tank replied.

"They must have packed their other notes beforehand. Either that, or they're very well hidden," Crystal assumed. "But check the last entry," she said, her voice betrayed her excitement as she levitated the notebook towards Blackwing. 

He picked it from the air and set it on the table. Coldie and Memento were peeking over his shoulders as he read. "It says that one of the Steamhorns discovered the laboratory and the map just yesterday."

"There's more," Crystal added. "Read the last paragraph." 

Her eyes were gleaming with exhilaration. Blackwing could only guess how bored and annoyed she must have been the last few years in Shadington. He read the text aloud.

The key to the City was not in the hidden chamber underground as we hoped. Instead there was an old GPS map with places for enchanted markers. We can only guess that the map leads to the key or perhaps to the gate. It looks like all three markers represent places from his past we read about. In order to collect the markers we will have to backtrack our way through those locations. It will be like looking for needles in a haystack. We must take off as soon as possible.

"Guess we really are lucky," Blackwing admitted. "Great piece of intel, you two." 

"Wonderful. Now tell us how you’re going to chase those guys, because if it's gonna be on hoof, you can count me out right away," Memento said. 

"Yes, about that," Blackwing said, lowering his voice a little. "I've received a letter with some intel and instructions. Princess Luna believes that the impostors are Flim and Flam, a pair of traveling crooks that used to be widely known in the central parts of Equestria. They disappeared, though, about ten years ago."

"That's when Steamhorn came to Shadington," Crystal pointed out.

"Exactly. The real Steamhorn was their grandfather and the descendant of Steamwand," Blackwing explained.

"Wait, what's that sound?" Memento cut in. Till that moment the others hadn’t paid attention to the quiet, buzzing noise outside that was gradually growing louder.

"That's our transport I’d guess," Blackwing said, relieved to get the attention off of him. "Somepony get Sprocket. He should see this."

A moment later, the six ponies were outside, watching as an object rapidly approached the town from the western sky. It was an airship, one much bigger than the one Flim and Flam had used to escape. The buzzing of its propellers lured other ponies outside as well. Soon, there was a large group standing in the streets, watching in awe as the big machine neared.

"Woooaaah." Sprocket stared at the ship with his mouth agape. The others seemed impressed as well.

"I'm surprised they're already here. Strange," Blackwing mumbled. "It's a long way from Canterlot, it's impossible in one night..."

"Guess they'll throw the anchor somewhere in the fields, on the other side of the river," Tank stated. 

They trotted to the bridge and towards the agricultural parts of Shadington that lay across it. When they finally got there, two heavy anchors already rested on a wheat field, keeping the large vessel from drifting away. The six ponies could fully admire its beauty as the hull lowered and came to a stop no more than three meters above the surrounding wheatears. The airship's body, well over thirty meters in length, was suspended under a midnight blue-colored balloon which appeared enormous to the ponies standing below it. The slender wooden hull had been reinforced with strong steel fittings and adorned with beautiful ebony carvings and floral ornaments that resembled creeping vines of moon flower. The lower part of the prow was glazed, rendering it a perfect vantage point for the crew. The upper front was adorned with a large ebony figurehead depicting an alicorn mare with her wings outstretched. Silver letters on the hull's side revealed the name of the vessel: E.A.S. Mare in the Moon.

A hatch on the lower part of the hull opened and somepony threw out a rope ladder. Then, an earth pony descended the ladder, showing some exceptional dexterity. Right after him another stallion, an older pegasus, flew out of the hatch and landed next to him on the ground. Blackwing hadn’t met them before, but the earth stallion's pinto coat and compass cutie mark hinted at his identity. He had also heard the name of the ship before.

"Hello. If I'm not mistaken, you're—"

"Pipsqueak, the Captain of this ship. At your service," the stallion presented himself. "And this is my second in command, Lieutenant Mistral," he introduced the pegasus standing next to him.

"Sir, he matches the description," Mistral addressed to Pipsqueak in a whisper.

"Yeah, I know," he whispered back to him. "You must be Blackwing, right? And these are probably the brave ponies who helped you on your mission."

Blackwing and Crystal nodded, Tank repealed his cap and Coldie curtsied, smiling politely. Sprocket and Memento were still busy staring at the Mare in the Moon.

Blackwing had heard a lot about Pipsqueak from Luna. After her return, air sailing had been something completely new to her but as far as Blackwing could remember, Luna had always been keen on stories about brave air-sailors and Pipsqueak was her favorite one in the whole air force. "It's good to finally meet you in person, Captain. The Princess always speaks very highly of you," he greeted. "I must ask you one thing though: how in the wide world of Equestria did you make it here from Canterlot in just one night?"

"Oh, that." Pipsqueak smiled a bit smugly. "Princess Luna stated that you needed transport A.S.A.P. so we decided to take a shortcut over the Everfree forest."

To his apparent satisfaction, the last statement left both Blackwing and Tank with their jaws hanging, while Memento almost lost her balance in the air. "They... what?" she said incredulously. 

"But since we're already here, you should pack your things. We have to take off before sunset or we'll never catch that other ship," he suggested, before the reigning silence became uncomfortable. "I heard you've got some idea about where they'd head?"

Blackwing regained his composure. "Yes, but first I'll need your opinion on a certain map, Captain."

"Sure. Just bring it to me; I'll take a look. "

"I really can't bring it here. It's kinda embedded in a brick wall of an underground secret laboratory," Blackwing explained.

Pipsqueak seemed a little dumbfounded. "Alright... I'll go with you then. Lead on."

- - - - -

After a brief trip to the supposed Steamwand's laboratory, where Pipsqueak and Mistral examined the mosaic map closely, Coldie invited everypony, except Sprocket, for tea. He had been left behind earlier, at Memento's house to play with her little brother and his school friend, Fireball. 

When they were all seated at the table, Pipsqueak resumed his expertise. "Just as you said, has to be an incredibly old GPS map," he addressed to Crystal. "Nowadays maps have precise locations of enchanted markers noted on 'em. If you lose the markers, you can have some unicorn navigator recreate them for you. But those holes - in the map's scale they cover enormous areas instead of the pinpoint locations we need. And we don't even know the scale. Even if somepony reconstructed the markers from that map, they would only show some large, general area, instead of the location you seek."

"So we have to find those old magical stones?" Coldie asked.

"Unless the thing you're looking for is roughly the size of Manehattan, yes," Mistral answered. 

"Nopony knows what the Steam Key really is or what it looks like, but I doubt it could be that big," Crystal stated.

"Great. Since we're all finished talking, how about we get moving?" Memento suggested almost merrily. Both siblings, Crystal, and Blackwing threw her surprised looks, she had started to show some hints of actual excitement in prospect of the coming journey.

"I second the motion," Pipsqueak added. "Grab your things and let's get going. We've got six comfy hammocks already prepared for you."

"Wait... six?" Coldie asked.

"You can't really expect us all to leave Shadington," Crystal stated, a confused expression crossing her face.

Blackwing, who'd been sitting quietly in a corner till that point, sighed deeply. There was no running from this any more. "Yes. Her majesty, Princess Luna, requested that you — all of you — accompany me and the crew of the Equestrian Airship Mare in the Moon on the quest for the Steam Key."

Coldie stared at him incredulously. "But Sprocket... we have to—"

"Sprocket has to go with us as well," Blackwing confirmed. 

"This has to be some kind of a mistake," Crystal objected. "There's no way that the Princess—"

"The Princess has requested specifically that the unicorn colt must be taken on this mission," Blackwing interrupted. His pose stiffened as he addressed the mares in the same way his friends from the royal guard usually addressed civilians. "Since machine magic is restricted by law, he is the only unicorn, other than the Flimflam brothers, who is known to show proficiency in this area."

Coldie's face turned orange. "Now listen ta me mister, if ye think that ye can—"

"I can, and I will. These are the orders," he stated firmly. He felt mad at Luna for putting him in this situation.

"This has to be some kind of a stupid joke. You can't possibly take a little colt on a dangerous journey like this!" Crystal got angry as well.

"We're shupposed ta look after him, not put'im in danger, for Celayshtia's sake!"

Pipsqueak and Mistral finished their tea in a hurry and snuck out of the house. Coldie and Crystal were raging at Blackwing, who silently cursed Luna's ideas. Memento and Tank sat by quietly. It took more than a quarter of an hour before Blackwing could speak up. 

"It's not my fault, okay!? It wasn't my idea to drag him along. I was against taking any of you on this mission!" he shouted.

The silence reigned for a moment, and Tank finally decided to intervene. "Y'know, there's really no reason ta be gettin' at each other's throats."

"What the hay do you mean?" Coldie glared daggers at him.

"Blackwing's got his orders and we have our obligations — to look after Sprocket. But we have to understand the Princess too. She rules half of Equestria. She's gotta think about the interest of all ponies."

Tank's cool and reason calmed both mares a little. Crystal frowned and sat down, deep in her thoughts. Coldie still seemed angry, but at least she'd stopped panting with rage.

"You know, it's not that I like this idea either, but if it really would be that kid or the rest of Equestria, the Princess made the right choice," Memento said. "Besides, he's shown that he can look after himself, and after us too."

It seemed that Coldie had finally ran out of steam. She fell on a chair, her body slouched forward and her face set in resignation. "But what are we going to tell Gearbox? And I can't even image what I'd do to myself if something happened to Sprocket," she despaired as tears started to flow down her cheeks.

That made Blackwing lose his stiff, guard-like composure. He approached her and put a hoof on her shoulder. "I thought the very same thing this morning, as I read the letter. I'm still angry, even though I realize that for Equestria's sake, I have to follow my orders and there's really nopony else as naturally gifted in machine-magic as Sprocket. But what could possibly happen to him, when he has a guardian like you?" he said as he smiled gently at her. She smiled back weakly. "The fact that you have a virtual Marecules for a brother doesn't hurt either. And after all this is over, Princess Luna promised to have Sprocket study in her sister's school for gifted unicorns in Canterlot."

Coldie sighed deeply and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She battled her thoughts for a while before she finally spoke again. "You have to promise me one thing, Blackwing. All of you have to promise," she demanded in a quiet, but determined voice, "that if anything happens, you will be ready to place his safety before your own."

He answered her in a gentle, but very serious manner. "I thought it was obvious." The other three ponies nodded in agreement.

- - - - -

The sun was slowly approaching the horizon when the procession of six heavily loaded ponies approached the bridge. Sprocket was bouncing excitedly in front of the others while Tank carried his baggage. He had been bursting with joy since he heard that they were going to take him along. Coldie watched him with mixed feelings, a worried expression crossing her face. She couldn't help but think about all the unknown dangers they would have to face.

They all promised. It's gonna be fine. 

Coldie had been repeating this in her head since they'd left home, but so far, she'd failed to convince herself. Eventually, she just settled on distracting herself from her worries.

"Hey Blackwing," she addressed the pegasus walking next to her, "I forgot to ask you before — what's the big deal with that airship taking a shortcut to get here in time? You guys looked like you'd seen a ghost when Captain Pipsqueak mentioned it."

"Traveling through the Everfree forest on hoof is extremely dangerous, but flying over it isn't much safer," Blackwing answered. "Usually an airship crew has meteorological charts from weather teams all over Equestria, so they know what conditions they should expect. The navigator can adjust the course to avoid storms or unfavorable winds. Everfree, however, has unpredictable weather. Not to mention the dragons, manticores, and other winged monsters that live there."

In the meantime, Memento lowered her flight and fluttered right above them, listening to the conversation. She decided to add her two bits as well. "Few captains ever try to fly over the Everfree forest. Even fewer have survived to tell about it," she said with a troubling note of satisfaction in her voice. "But Pipsqueak's already a living legend. I'd expect nothing less of him."

They were getting close to the wheat field where Mare in the Moon was anchored. Memento soared up in the sky to get a better view of the airship. It was quite evident that if there was anything other than gothic poetry that could excite her, it was the air sailing, or flying in general.

"A living legend?" Coldie asked Blackwing, as they watched Memento fly away.

"Well it's true, but I have no idea how she would know all that," he said as he rubbed a hoof against his chin.

"Her dad works at the Balefast skyport," Coldie explained. "But why is Captain Pipsqueak a legend?"

"First of all, he's an earth pony. Ninety-nine percent of the air sailors in Equestria are pegasi, as in the air, being unable to fly is even worse than being unable to swim when you're on the sea. Sometimes you can come by unicorns that were taken aboard an airship for their magical abilities, usually as navigators. Remember GPS?" he asked. When Coldie nodded, Blackwing continued his reasoning. "But an earth pony as an air sailor? That's unique. And he's not just a regular sailor."

"He's an earth pony airship captain," Coldie concluded. 

"Yeah. And Pipsqueak was promoted to this rank as the youngest pony in the history of the air forces," Blackwing added. "He's got quite a reputation, especially among pegasi. Princess Luna is one his biggest fan too. If there's anypony who can catch Flim and Flam's ship despite their head start, it's him."

Coldie glanced at the big frame of Mare in the Moon as they approached. Two white-coated pegasi were already lifting the first bags to the upper deck. Pipsqueak was standing there, leaning over the railing. The rope ladder, hanging from the hatch, awaited them.

They all promised. It's gonna be fine. We're flying with Pipsqueak.