When down-on-her-luck Samba meets Limbo—a private detective investigating a series of kidnappings—they work together to find the kidnapper and Limbo's killer. Oh, Limbo's a zombie, by the way. Should probably mention that.
Samba is a down-on-her-luck mare working as a dancer at a pub in downtown Baltimare to make ends meet. A chance encounter on the way home one night leads to her meeting Limbo, a private detective investigating a series of kidnappings. The two might have little in common, but a proactive mare like Limbo might be just the motivator Samba needs to get her life back on track and help improve her self-image.
So, working together, Samba and Limbo strike out to find the one responsible for the disappearances, as well as Limbo's murderer.
Oh, did I forget to mention that Limbo's a zombie? Because that's kinda important.
In downtown Baltimare there is a pub, one with many frequent patrons. This was especially true during the late hours of the night. The pub was of respectable size, as it was at some point a small theatre. But despite the size, the place had few employees, most of the ones it did have worked primarily in the afternoon and evening. During the night—particularly when it was as late as it currently was—the establishment operated on a skeleton crew.
A lone bartender sat behind the counter polishing mugs and wiping down the countertop as he waited for the inevitable moment when somepony would approach for another pint. Despite the small crew tonight, the pub was quite lively, populated by about a dozen liquored-up stallions. Most people would think that they'd have cleared out by now to stumble their way home, not wanting to risk passing out on the floor of the pub and rolled out onto the sidewalk by the grumbling bartender.
But said bartender knew full well why there were still so many stallions present, and why they were still as energetic as they were, and also why they didn't approach the bar as often as one might think. It was because their attention was directed toward the elevated stage at the back of the room. The stage had once been the setting for many a play and musical written and acted by amateur performers aiming to rise to stardom and make their big breakout performance. Whether anypony who stood upon the stage actually gained notoriety in the end was unknown to those who owned and operated the place now, nor did they particularly care.
But nowadays only one set of hooves ever graced that stage. And she was the object of everypony's attention at the moment.
A lone unicorn mare stood before an audience of drunken stallions, the lights shining down upon her causing the sweat beading on her light beige coat to glisten and sparkle. Of course, one did not work up such a sweat just standing still. She was in constant motion, her body moving about the stage as fluid as a stream, her luxurious locks of silky, wavy, golden hair moving with her as though they were prehensile and under her full control. Her dance hypnotized the already-impaired patrons of the pub, her attractive curves and alluring, pink eyes keeping them entranced as she expertly timed her movements to the exotic music playing from the speakers flanking the stage.
The stallions weren't so entranced that they had lost all cognitive functions just yet—though given time, the alcohol would finish the job. No, for even as mesmerizing as the mare's dance was, there was no stopping a room of drunk men from hooting and whistling at the only mare in the room as she performed for them.
But they didn't distract her. This was what she was good at, indicated by the wavy music bars and pink, light blue, and white notes that made up her cutie mark. She did this almost every night, dancing in front of an audience of rowdy stallions for a few short hours. She moved with all the grace and beauty of an angel, enrapturing her audience effortlessly.
None of them were selfless or sober enough to notice just how listless her eyes were, though.
***** ***** *****
Finally, at about two in the morning, the last patron staggered his way out the door, leaving only two employees remaining inside the pub. The bartender ran a weary hoof through his black and white mane as he prepared to clean up the leftovers of empty steins and half-eaten bar snacks off the tables and floor. Several chairs had been knocked over by slovenly drunks and he hoped to the full moon in the sky that there was no puddles of vomit or other bodily fluids to clean up in the bathroom.
As the bartender carried the used mugs to the bar to be cleaned, he heard the heavy hoofsteps of his coworker on the hardwood floors. The unicorn mare entered the room from a side door by the stage, a pair of saddlebags slung haphazardly over her back, and a black sleeve with a small pouch on her left front fetlock that held her portable spellphone. As per usual after a night of dancing, she was looking rather haggard. Her normally-flawless, blonde mane was suddenly a mess, small smudges of eyeliner and mascara still stained her coat after a half-hearted attempt to remove her makeup for the night, and a long, breathy sigh escaped her lungs.
The mare sat herself down on one of the stools at the bar, her elongated breaths indicating that she was still a little exhausted from her performance and wanted to take some of the strain off her aching hooves.
It was the bartender that broke the silence. "Good show tonight, Samba," he complimented with his usual friendly smile.
Samba managed a half-hearted smile back. "Thanks, Tap. How'd we make out?"
"See for yourself." Tap placed a hefty sack of bits on the counter with a loud thud and jingling of coins. "You definitely earned your keep tonight."
"Yeah, well, you're the one lowering their inhibitions with booze. I'm just keeping them distracted so they don't realize how much they're spending."
"Either way, it's appreciated. I can take my husband out to a nice dinner with the tips we made tonight," Tap said, planning out the date in his head already.
Samba stretched her back with a moan. "Must be nice, having somepony to share it with." She leaned onto the bar, looking rather sullen. "Alright, I just wanna get home for the night. Can you divvy those up so I can clock out?"
Tap nodded, dumping some of the golden bits out onto the counter to start counting them up. "Sure. Oh, by the way..." He placed a small scrap of paper onto the counter with a grimace on his face. "'You-know-who' left this."
Samba's chin hit the bar with a groan. She didn't need to look at it. She already knew what it was. One of the bar's frequent patrons had left her a note with his phone number on it, requesting that he call her. Tap may have called the guy "You-know-who," but in actuality, even though this guy left his number almost every night, neither she nor Tap knew which customer it was that kept leaving the notes. But Samba had no interest in indulging her "secret admirer." She was dealing with enough problems as it was, so she wasn't exactly "on the market" right now.
"I wish he'd just give it up," Samba sighed as she crumpled up the paper. "Learn to take a hint, guy."
"Seriously. I know I wouldn't want some creepazoid hounding me for attention, especially since I'm already married, and especially because I know the types of guys that come here for late night drinks. It could honestly be any one of those drunkards, they're all the same." Tap finished dividing the bits between the two of them, dropping half in another bag and passing it to Samba. "Here you go. You go on and get some rest, I'll finish up here."
Samba flashed a grateful grin at her coworker as she took her pay and hopped off the stool. "You're a peach, Tap."
With another night of work finished, Samba stepped outside into the still night air of Baltimare. Being right next to the ocean, the city's atmosphere always had a hint of saltiness, especially downtown where Samba lived and worked; she wasn't too far from the harbor of Horseshoe Bay. The scent wasn't overpowering, but it was certainly more noticeable compared to where she used to live further uptown.
The walk home was always a pain, though, both figuratively and literally. After a night of dancing for hours with only a few short breaks, her dogs were barking. Samba was looking forward to getting back to her apartment and conking out after a hot shower, though it wasn't uncommon for her to just flop down on the couch and doze off and just leave the shower for the next morning.
Samba suddenly felt a mild buzzing coming from her left front leg. Her spellphone was vibrating. She sat herself down on the lonely sidewalk and pulled the phone from its thin sleeve to check it.
A text from Rhapsody.
A hopeful smile made its way onto her face. He must have been up late tonight too, but he did know when she usually got off work and probably didn't want to bother her until she clocked out. Either way, she eagerly tapped the screen to read it.
I found some more of your stuff. You can come by whenever to pick it up.
Samba's smile fell once more. She was hoping for something more than that, but it was her own fault for getting her hopes up. She did that every time she got a text from him, which wasn't all that frequently, in truth. Still, though, she was willing to take any opportunity she could to visit him.
She typed her response, opting to use the edge of her hoof to slowly and carefully tap it out instead of her magic.
k i'll come over tomorrow afternoon
She waited patiently for his response after sending it. It took him an inordinately long time to reply given how short it was.
Sure.
Samba breathed a disheartened sigh. As distant as ever, not that she blamed him. But she was looking forward to seeing him again regardless. She slipped her spellphone back into her sleeve and continued on her way home, a little more pep in her step now that she knew what she was going to be doing with her time tomorrow.
At least it was a quiet night. At two in the morning, there weren't many people out on the street besides herself. The silence was pretty relaxing, with only the clopping of her own tired hooves to add auditory ambience as she walked beneath the soft light of the street lamps.
However, after a few minutes, she could swear her own hoofsteps weren't the only ones making noise. Samba chanced a glance over her shoulder. There was another person walking some distance behind her, but they were too far away at the moment for her to make out any features, not to mention they were wearing a dark hoodie that obscured most of their face.
Samba gulped involuntarily and felt her heart rate start to pick up. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Maybe it was just somepony who happened to be going the same way she was. Another quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that the other person was gradually closing the distance between them, and the closer they got, the more nervous she became. Eventually the stranger trotted right up alongside her. Samba tried to ignore them and hope they just passed right along by, but once they had caught up with her, they slowed their pace, matching Samba's walking speed.
Samba glanced toward the stranger from the corner of her eye. She could still only see their muzzle underneath the hood, but all she could determine from the dim lighting was that it was a stallion. The silence had become incredibly unnerving, and she wished he'd just move on and quell her paranoia.
But then, he spoke, his voice low and husky, but he didn't look at her.
"You never responded to my messages. I'm tired of waiting."
Samba's heart started pounding against her ribs. Was this the guy who'd been leaving those notes for her at the pub? Either way, she didn't want to stick around and chat about it.
She was about to break out into a sprint, but the moment she moved, the guy grabbed her by the leg and held her back. Panic overcame Samba in that instant and she did what anypony else in her situation would do: she screamed. Her shrill, frightened cry filled the otherwise quiet atmosphere, but her assailant didn't loosen his grip on her.
But after a few fearful moments of struggling against him, the sound of hurried hoofsteps approaching from the distance could be heard. The stallion looked over his shoulder to see another mare making a beeline toward him. He released Samba and bolted to avoid being caught, but the mare continued her pursuit, only slowing down for a brief moment to give Samba some quick, reassuring words.
"I'll get 'im, don't worry!"
Samba stood there, unmoving and pretty shaken. She watched the mysterious mare give chase down the street. The stallion veered off down an alleyway between two buildings, and the mare followed suit, showing no sign of slowing down. After the two disappeared from sight, Samba heard some odd noises; a metallic bang, followed by a low, heavy whump and the clinking of glass bottles, punctuated by a pained "Oof."
After that, everything went quiet again. Samba waited for something to happen. It sounded like her savior had perhaps apprehended the stallion, but she was a little scared to investigate. It was only out of sheer, morbid curiosity that her hooves managed to cautiously carry her down the sidewalk, making sure to keep her guard up.
Samba carefully peered down the alleyway, half-expecting to be jumped again. However, she saw nopony. The alley stretched on into the darkness, only the light of the street lamps on the opposite street block visible beyond where she stood. With the light of the lamps above herself, she could only see a dumpster on the left wall right beneath the building's fire escape. Aside from that, nothing. There was no sign of the stallion or the mare. They must have continued their escape down the alley and out onto the opposite street.
But—and she had no idea what compelled her to do this—Samba instinctively called out. "Hello?"
Perhaps she hoped that the two were simply obscured by the darkness in the middle of the alley, and she didn't exactly want to just saunter home after a frightening experience like that without knowing if her attacker was still loose or not. Additionally, she'd like to thank that mare for coming to her rescue if she could.
Surprisingly, though, she received a response.
"Uh, hi."
Samba glanced around. That was certainly the mare's voice, and it sounded nearby, but she couldn't see her. Her attention focused on the only thing visible in the alley: the dumpster. Samba stood up on her hind legs, peering into the dumpster.
Sure enough, there was a face looking up at her. Buried up to her neck in all manner of garbage was the mare who was chasing that stallion, her coat a dark, forest green, and her mane short and dark brown. Her race was difficult to determine without being able to see her body, but she had no horn, so not a unicorn at any rate. However, her most distinctive feature was actually an accessory she wore: a black eyepatch covering her right eye. Her one visible eye was a very pale silver, and, along with the weird grin on her face, relayed an expression of embarrassment.
"You okay?" Samba asked concernedly.
"Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine," the mare replied nonchalantly, as though dumpster-diving were a hobby of hers. Her face became more apologetic. "But, uh, that guy might've got away, in case you somehow didn't figure that out."
Samba instinctively looked down the alley again in case he was still nearby, but saw and heard nothing. As shaken as she was about what had happened, right now Samba's priority was thanking this mare for saving her. "Here, let me help you," Samba offered as she slipped off her saddlebags and reached her hooves down.
"No no, that's okay!"
Samba recoiled at her surprisingly panicked reaction. "Uh, you sure? You look pretty stuck there."
"What, this? Nah. I can—hngh!—just wriggle..."
Samba could see some of the trash shift a little, but the weight of the garbage was keeping the mare held down pretty well. "Well, I just want to thank you for helping me out, so the least I can do is pull you out of there," she said, leaning down once more to grab hold of the mare's head.
"You reeeally don't want to do this," the one-eyed mare argued, her voice a little shaky.
"I don't mind getting a little dirty," Samba assured as she began to pull.
Much to Samba's surprise, the moment she tugged on the mare to try and pull her free, she suddenly tumbled backward onto her rump. She had put a decent amount of force into her pull, but there was a lot less resistance than she expected, causing her to lose her balance. She shook off the mild pain of the tumble, then looked down.
And staring back at her, held within her hooves, was the disembodied head of a mare.
The head grinned rather awkwardly, then actually spoke. "Yeah, soooo... I can explain."
"Gyaaaaaah!"
Samba dropped the severed head to the ground and scrambled back against the wall in terror. Her pupils narrowed in confusion and horror, her breathing accelerated, and her heart started beating even faster than when she thought she was going to be assaulted.
"Okay, okay, calm down and please stop screaming before somepony hears you," the head begged, now laying on its side on the cold ground.
"A-buh... A-hah-wuh... Wha...?" Samba stammered and slurred as she pointed a shaky hoof at the mare's head.
"Look, I told you I can explain, you just have to stay calm, alright?"
"You... You're a talking head," Samba uttered in disbelief, her voice quivering. "How are you a talking head?"
"The short answer: I'm a zombie," the other mare stated matter-of-factly.
That reply didn't do much to assuage Samba's fear. "A-A... zombie? Like, eating brains and stuff?"
"First of all, that's a stereotype perpetuated by the entertainment industry," she corrected, sounding a little insulted. "Second, it's a long story, but why don't we start by trying to get things off on the right hoof. Name's Limbo. I'd shake your hoof, but the rest of me is kinda buried in trash at the moment."
Samba just silently stared at the severed head who was staring back up at her with an amicable, sideways smile. She still couldn't figure out if this was real, or some really weird, lucid dream. There was just a pony's head laying on the ground in front of her, smiling and talking to her like it was no big deal.
But as shocked and stupefied as she was, hearing her mention how her body was still in the dumpster reminded Samba that this mare did, in fact, save her life just now. Regardless of how bizarre the situation was, she had been in the middle of thanking her for that before this unexpected discovery. And she did promise an explanation. Samba was admittedly curious about this mare—Limbo.
"Um..." Samba still hesitated. As strange as it was for a severed head to be talking, it felt even weirder to talk back to it. But she swallowed her reticence and finally responded. "I-I'm... Samba."
"Nice to meetcha, Samba. Now, I'm sure you have questions, but, despite my insistence earlier, I do need a little help getting my body out of the dumpster. You mind lending a hoof?"
Samba turned to the dumpster with more than a little reluctance. She'd been willing to help her savior out before she knew any better, but something about the idea of pulling a dead body out of the trash didn't sit right with her, but she did owe her. Needless to say, this was not a turn she'd been expecting this night to take.
The dancer decided to simply put those thoughts out of her head and just think about this as repaying the person who had helped her. Samba leaned over the dumpster, cautiously reaching down and pushing some trash aside to try and find any sign of Limbo's body.
"Uh, how exactly did you end up in the dumpster anyway?" Samba asked as she fished around in the garbage, mostly wanting to take her mind off of the fact that she was looking for a corpse.
"Weeell, I was climbing up the fire escape as I was chasing that guy..."
Samba glanced back at the head laying on the ground. "He went up to the roof?"
"Eeeh, no," Limbo replied with some embarrassment. "I wanted to try and cut him off at the pass, and I've always wanted to attempt a rooftop chase 'cuz they always look so intense in the movies. But, uh, guess my parkour skills aren't up to snuff. I lost my grip and fell into the trash. Hit my chin pretty hard on one of the rungs on the way down, and that's what took my head off."
Samba quirked an eyebrow. "You're head came off that easily?"
"Yeah, fun fact about zombies: they're a little rotten," Limbo retorted sarcastically. "Happens more often than you think, and more often than I'd like."
"You don't look very rotten."
"Well, thank you, I appreciate the compliment. How's it going over there?"
"Oh, right, umm..." Samba rooted around a bit more, hoping she didn't cut herself on some glass or something. But she eventually felt something furry, and the moment she touched it, it moved. It must have been Limbo's leg. Now having a better idea of where Limbo's body was, she reached down with both hooves and managed to find what she assumed to be Limbo's front legs.
"Hey, there we go, you got me," Limbo said with a relieved grin.
With Limbo's confirmation, Samba started pulling until her body was partway out of the trash.
Then, she made the mistake of looking down, staring straight down the open gaps of Limbo's exposed esophagus and windpipe, as well as her separated spinal column and all the torn flesh, tissue, and coagulated blood of her neck.
Samba's face went white and she quickly let go of Limbo's hooves. She hunched over behind the dumpster, hurling her guts up in disgust.
Limbo rolled her one eye at Samba's reaction. "Oh, grow up. You act like you've never seen a severed neck hole before," she quipped as her body pulled itself the rest of the way out of the dumpster on its own.
"That's because I haven't," Samba shot back, wiping the vomit from her muzzle.
She watched quietly as Limbo's headless body felt around the ground, like a visually-impaired pony looking for their misplaced glasses. Eventually, the blind corpse found its head, and Limbo lifted her disembodied skull up. When she brought it close to her neck, an aura of dark red magic drew the flesh and sinew back together, reattaching her head without leaving so much as a seam or scar as if nothing had happened. As gross as it was—especially with the off-putting squelching her flesh made during the process—it was a fascinating sight at the same time.
And now Samba could confirm that Limbo was an earth pony—a zombie earth pony, but an earth pony nonetheless. She was also given a quick look at her cutie mark, which depicted a magnifying glass with a skull behind the lens.
Limbo rolled her reattached head around on her shoulders, working the kinks out of her neck. "Ugh, word to the wise, being decapitated isn't something you become numb to with repetition. Still hurts like heck every time." She glanced over to the other mare quietly staring at her, who looked more than a little confused and pensive. "Okay, so, I said I'd explain..."
"That'd be nice," Samba said, her voice still a tad shaky. "Then again, do I even want to know?"
Limbo rubbed the back of her neck with an awkward sigh. "Look, like I said, it's kind of a long story. Tell you what: why don't you come over to my apartment for a few minutes and I can give you the lowdown over a cup of coffee?"
Samba drew back, her pupils narrowing a little. "Uh... No offense, but the idea of going back to a zombie's place in the middle of the night isn't exactly what I'd call 'appealing.'"
"I can see that, I guess, but, counter-argument: would you rather walk home alone with that creep-o still on the loose?"
Samba hesitated.
Limbo quirked an eyebrow at her persistent apprehension. "Well?"
"Give me a minute, I'm weighing my options."
The undead mare rolled her only eye. "Okay, let's clear something up here. I might be a zombie, but I'm not like the ones you see in movies, or read about in books. I don't eat brains, or flesh, or meat in general. I'm still a herbivore, so my diet consists of the same things as living ponies, along with boatloads of coffee. So, if you're worried that I'm taking you home to cannibalize you, chill, alright?"
Samba lifted an eyebrow, still eyeing her up somewhat suspiciously. "And how do I know you're telling the truth?"
Limbo shook her head with a groan. "Jeezum-crow, what's it take to earn a little trust? If zombies were more common, I'd call this prejudice."
Again, Samba found her conscience reminding her that this mare did just save her life. And she seemed like a friendly enough person for a reanimated corpse. She offered an apologetic sigh. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. There's probably a lot I'm missing here, so I guess I shouldn't judge before hearing the full story."
"Thank you," said Limbo with a grateful smile. "Either way, I can't really let you go without explaining."
Samba froze as she was putting her saddlebags back on. "Wh-What?"
"See, I know it's pretty late and everything, but I can't exactly have you go around telling people I'm a zombie. I just wanna make sure I can trust you before we part ways, you know?"
"It's a secret?"
"Doi. That should go without saying. If it wasn't, you'd've surely heard about it by now, right? And there'd definitely be more of us wandering around. I'll give you the details when we get there."
"Uh, okay..." Samba just decided to quietly accept that. Given the way she'd reacted herself, she couldn't say she blamed her, but she was curious to hear her story.
Limbo started leading the way, pointing down the street opposite the direction that Samba had been going. "My place is just a few blocks from here."
As they walked under the veil of night, Limbo couldn't help but notice the way that Samba was still uncomfortably shifting her gaze toward her every few seconds. It was pretty evident she was still edgy about all this, so Limbo decided it might be high time for a change of subject.
"So, what's a pretty gal like you doing out so late?"
Samba quirked an eyebrow. "Are you hitting on me now?"
"Uh, no, I'm just trying to be friendly. You always this presumptuous about people you just met?"
The unicorn sighed. "Sorry. I guess I'm still a little on edge. The last fifteen minutes have been a bit of a whirlwind."
"I get it. So, what, you were headed somewhere before all that happened?"
"Home. I just got off work."
"This late? What do you do?" Limbo glanced back at Samba's cutie mark. "Something music related, I'm guessing."
Samba was silent for a moment, a slight blush of embarrassment tinging her cheeks. "Sort of. I, uh... dance... at a bar near here."
"Oh, cool," Limbo reacted with a genuine grin. "You certainly got the figure for it. Again, not flirting. And, hey, you don't have to feel awkward about it. As long as you're doing something you enjoy."
"Uh-huh..."
Limbo arched an eyebrow at her dismissive response, but decided not to pry too much and make any assumptions herself. "So, did you know that guy, or what?"
"Not really. I think he's a customer at the bar. Some guy keeps leaving notes asking me to contact him, but I just ignored them. I guess that was him."
"Some people are just rotten to the core," Limbo commented with a grimace. "And that's coming from somepony who's literally rotting. Believe me, I've dealt with my fair share of scumbags like that over the years. I'm no stranger to stalkers and perverts."
"Really?"
"Yeah, you come across them pretty often in my line of work."
"What do you do, then?"
Limbo stopped, gesturing with a proud smile to the apartment building whose entrance they were now standing in front of. "Why don't you come up and see?"
Samba's curiosity piqued once more. She was interested to see what kind of job a zombie would opt for.
Limbo lead her guest through the lobby and to the elevator, riding it up to the fifth floor. The halls were unsurprisingly empty at this time of night, and it didn't sound like many of the other tenants were awake, if any. Limbo stopped in front of one door labeled "506" and stepped inside, flicking on the lights.
Samba paused at the threshold as she looked around. It was not at all what she was expecting. She figured they'd walk straight into the living room, akin to her own apartment, but where she stood looked more like an office than an apartment. Directly in front of her was an oak desk sitting in front of the windows. The only other notable pieces of furniture was an old-looking couch immediately to the left of the door, and a bookshelf to the right, stuffed with tomes. The only indication that this was, in fact, a living space, was the kitchen area to the right of the door, though Samba didn't often see somepony position their television on the kitchen table. A hallway could be seen beyond the kitchen, presumably leading to the bedroom and bathroom, though Samba could not discern any more than that.
But perhaps what stood out more wasn't so much the layout, but the state of the place. First of all, if the sight of the apartment wasn't the first thing Samba noticed, it would have been the smell. The moment the door opened, it felt like she was hit in the face by a force field of odor. It wasn't necessarily unpleasant, but it was an odd mixture of scents. She could detect the distinct aroma of coffee above all else, but there were other smells mixed in with it that Samba couldn't quite pinpoint.
Furthermore, the place was absolutely littered with paper of all kinds. Documents of some kind were splayed across the desk and couch, newspapers were scattered about on the kitchen table and even the floor, and balled up scraps were piled in and overflowing from a nearby waste basket.
Samba's attention was particularly drawn to a corkboard on the left wall. A map of Baltimare had been pinned up there, along with nearly a dozen photos of various ponies and sticky notes with some scribblings on them. All in all, Samba was starting to get the impression that this was the apartment of one of those conspiracy theorists who overblow little things.
"Soooo... This is your place, huh?" Samba commented, not wanting to throw out any rash assumptions just yet.
"Yup," Limbo answered proudly. "Any guesses what I do for a living?"
"Don't you mean 'unliving'?"
Limbo grimaced. "Really?" she deadpanned bemusedly.
"Uh, sorry. That offensive?"
"Just seems like low hanging fruit, if you ask me. I'd rather not have to argue semantics just because I'm dead."
"I'll keep that in mind," Samba said apologetically. She glanced around the apartment again. "But, uh... No, I don't really know what you do yet."
"I'll give you a hint." Limbo sat down behind her desk, leaning back in her chair with a rather serious expression on her face. "What brings a pretty dame like you to my neck of the woods, doll face?"
Samba just raised an eyebrow at the odd question and the forced accent.
Limbo, observing the confusion on her guest's face, dropped the brief façade. "What, never seen one of those noir films?"
"I'm not much of a movie-goer," Samba answered with a shake of her head.
Limbo got back up with a disappointed sigh. "Oh. Well, anyway, I'm a private detective."
Samba's eyes widened with realization. "Oooh, that makes more sense, now. Sorry, with all this stuff around, I thought you might've been some kinda crazy person."
The zombie mare looked around, pouting slightly at the state of her own apartment. "Hm. Maybe I could stand to run a vacuum through this place a little more often. And maybe change the potpourri while I'm at it."
"Is that what that is?" Samba said, sniffing the air in the apartment again. "Hard to tell with the smell of coffee."
"Better than the smell of rotten flesh," Limbo remarked with a shrug.
"I wasn't going to say anything since I didn't know if you'd be offended, but I did notice your particular, uh... body odor on the way here," Samba commented with an awkward grin.
"Bear in mind, I did just crawl out of a dumpster. I normally use perfume or deodorant to mask the smell. Or coffee. I drink so much coffee that I think the scent of it perforates through my skin."
"Does coffee actually do anything for you?" the unicorn asked. "I mean, you're dead. Can your body process it?"
"Well, my partially-rotted organs don't quite digest the way they used to, but I can still eat and drink and stuff, I just don't have to," she answered.
"Then why do you? Isn't that, like, a waste of money?"
"Listen, I was a caffeine addict loooong before I became a zombie," Limbo admitted. "Old habits die way harder than I did, I'll say that. Taste is not a sensation I'm willing to forego just because I don't 'have' to experience it. Plus, I gotta keep up appearances so people don't get suspicious."
Samba stared at Limbo, her curiosity not yet sated. There were a ton of questions on her mind regarding all this, and as much as she wanted to get home and get some sleep after a stressful night like this, she doubted she'd manage to rest well without knowing how a zombie came to be. "I kinda want to back up a bit here. How exactly are you, uh... 'alive'?" she asked, forming the air quotes with her hooves.
Limbo's energetic expression suddenly faltered, becoming a little more sullen. "I have my best friend to thank for that..."
Samba tensed up, feeling as though she may have reopened a particularly painful wound. "Uh, you don't have to go into detail if it's uncomfortable for you."
The undead mare waved her hoof. "No, no, I said I'd explain and I will. Truth be told, you're the first person to find out about this since I was resurrected, so I feel like I owe you that much, especially if I'm going to trust you to keep this a secret."
"Was it a magic spell?"
"Well, that's obvious. My friend was an enthusiast of dark magic, the kind that might not exactly be legal. Mind you, she was simply an enthusiast and never actually practiced the stuff. You know, until I died."
"That never bothered you, being a detective and all?"
"What was I supposed to do? Thank her for bringing me back to life by arresting her? I couldn't do that in all good conscience."
"Fair enough."
"Any other questions?"
Samba thought about it for a minute. While Limbo's "condition" was certainly worth a dissertation's worth of discussion, looking around the apartment, there were a few questions about Limbo's job that came to mind. She picked up a random page of newspaper that had fallen off the desk. "So, what's all this stuff anyway? Is it research for your cases or something?"
"Yup. Gotta keep your ear to the ground in my line of work."
Samba wandered over to the most interesting feature in the apartment: the corkboard with the map and all the pictures of ponies. Now that she looked closer, some of the faces looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place from where exactly. "What's all this for, then? Clients, or...?"
"Victims."
"'Victims'?"
"Yeah. I've got a few cases I've been working on right now, but this is the big one I've been trying to crack. You've heard of the 'Ghost of Baltimare,' right?"
"That's that rumor about the disappearances, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but it's not as much of a rumor as the public would have you believe. The disappearances are too frequent to not be premeditated. All of these people were kidnapped by somecreature, and I'm trying to find out who. The problem is that the kidnapper hasn't left behind any clues at all, making the disappearances look all the more mysterious, which is why they're referred to as the 'Ghost.'" Limbo suddenly knit her brow in aggravation. "And if the B.P.D. would get off their butts and actually investigate for more than a few days after a disappearance, we might have made more headway by now."
"You're badmouthing the cops? Aren't they basically like your colleagues?"
"I have more right to badmouth them than anypony. I used to be one of 'em. It's their apathy and laziness that made me resign to become a private detective."
Samba looked back at the board, observing all the notes and scribbles Limbo had made on it. "So this is like your passion project to stick it to them?"
Limbo shook her head resolutely. "No. I mean, I'll definitely rub it in their faces when I catch the Ghost, but this is also a personal thing." She pointed to one of the photos depicting a unicorn mare with a jet black coat and a red and purple mane. "That's my best friend."
Samba's eyes widened in shock. "Wait, the one that brought you back to life? She was one of the victims?"
Limbo nodded. "Her name's Poe Ravensong. She disappeared a couple weeks after she resurrected me. Given what she's done for me, I've made it my mission to rescue her and all the other people that disappeared. Assuming they're still alive."
Samba scrutinized the mare in the photo. Poe's expression was rather serious, and with the heavy eyeliner she was wearing, and the studs in her ears, it was hard to imagine an enthusiastic individual like Limbo hanging out with somepony like her. "Is she, like... into emo stuff, or what? Not judging, just curious how you two wound up becoming friends."
"Hm? Oh, no. Well, kinda. Like I said, she's into occult junk and everything, but she's actually a major goofball. That's just a picture we took when we were messing around in a photo booth at the mall." Limbo grabbed a strip of photos from off a nearby side table, showing four pictures of herself and Poe making silly faces, although Limbo didn't have the eyepatch. One of them was cut in half, just showing Limbo herself with a dead serious glare. "She's been my best friend since we were kids. And she's also part of the reason why I need you to keep my undeadness a secret. According to an old law regarding necromancy, anypony declared guilty of resurrecting the dead is to be sentenced to prison, and the people that were reanimated are to be... un-reanimated..."
"Oh..."
"So you get it, right? At the very least, I need to keep this under wraps until I save her. And dark magic is called 'dark' for a reason. Those kinds of rituals tend to come at a price. In her case, she had to sacrifice ten years off her lifespan to bring me back."
"Yikes. So she, like, aged ten years after she did it?"
"Well, no, it has to do with 'life force,' but that's all complicated mumbo jumbo. Basically, the life force she sacrificed is what's fueling the magic keeping me 'alive.'"
"Does that mean you'll only last for ten years?" Samba asked worriedly.
Limbo shook her head. "Nah, it's indefinite so long as my brain remains intact. And the spell will repair any damage to my body, which is how I can reattach limbs and everything. Can't fix anything that happened before I was brought back though. It took Poe a couple of weeks to learn the spell, and she did what she could to slow my decomposition. Stuffed my body in a freezer until she could do it, but I'm still not exactly in what I'd call 'peak condition.'"
"I guess I should actually ask: how did you die?" Samba inquired curiously.
"Remember when I said the 'Ghost' case was personal? Well, there're two reasons for that. Poe's one of 'em, but the other is because the Ghost was the one who killed me."
"Really? Then how come you don't know who it is yet?"
Limbo groaned, clearly disappointed in herself. "Believe me, I'm bothered by it to no end. I was on the Ghost's trail, but I guess I got a little too close without knowing. They jumped me and knocked me out, then dumped my body in the harbor. Poe knew where'd I'd gone and went looking for me when I didn't come home. She found me floating in the water in the middle of the night and fished me out, but by then it was too late. I'd already drowned." She sighed wistfully, with a fond smile. "You gotta appreciate a friend that's willing to go to the lengths she did for me. I never would've asked her to do that, but I couldn't exactly argue with her as a lifeless corpse."
Samba offered a sympathetic frown. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that. And I hope you find her and catch the Ghost."
Limbo shrugged off the somber mood that was starting to build in her apartment, an energetic smile returning to her face. "Alright, alright, I appreciate that and everything, but this conversation's turned into a real downer. I've always been a glass-half-full kinda gal, so I'm not too worried about Poe. But let's lift the mood by getting back to the Q&A. Anymore questions about me and how I no longer live and breath as the warm-bloods do?"
Samba focused her attention on what she considered to be Limbo's most outstanding feature. "I was hesitant to bring it up because I was afraid it would dredge up bad memories, but seeing as we just talked about how you died, I feel like we're a little beyond that. So, I was wondering: is the eyepatch a fashion statement, or are you actually missing an eye?"
"Oh, that?" Limbo chuckled in response. "No, no, it's practical. The eye's gone. I could show you, but, uh... you seemed like you were a bit squeamish earlier."
Samba held up a hoof with an awkward grimace. "Y-Yeah, I'll take your word for it. So, I'm guessing that was the Ghost's doing too, huh?"
"Hm? Oh, no. Unrelated incident, believe it or not. Lost it about a year and a half before I was killed. Obviously that was the last time we allowed pets and fireworks at the police cookout."
"Ooookay..."
"But, hey, on the bright side, the eyepatch makes a good door for Webber."
Samba cocked a puzzled eyebrow. "Uh... 'Webber'?"
Limbo's remaining eye widened in realization. "Oh, shoot! Where are my manners? I haven't introduced you to my partner yet. Hey, Webber, we've got a guest. Come say hi!"
For a moment there was no response from this "Webber" person. Samba glanced around the apartment for any sign of them, but saw and heard nothing. However, when she looked back at Limbo to inquire about it, she froze solid. From underneath Limbo's eyepatch emerged the long, spindly legs of a rather large, brown spider, which crawled down her neck and came to a rest on her shoulder.
"Samba, this is Webber," Limbo introduced, gesturing to the spider casually sitting upon her. "Webber, this is... Uh..." Limbo noticed that the blood seemed to have drained from Samba's face, leaving her white as a ghost and her pupils so narrow they were barely visible. "You okay there, Samba?"
The unicorn blinked suddenly, her color returning to her as though she'd just been snapped from a trance. "Huh?" Her pink eyes shifted between Limbo and the spider, still clearly unnerved. "Oh, I, uh... Sorry, I think I blacked out for a second there," she said shakily.
"Right, my bad," Limbo apologized with a guilty grin. "Probably should've asked first if you were arachnophobic."
"I-I'm not. It's just..." She gulped involuntarily, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. "I know you're a zombie, but I wasn't exactly expecting a big, honking spider to crawl out of your eye socket."
"Aw, you don't have to be scared of Webber," Limbo assured her with a dismissive flick of her hoof. "He can cop an attitude occasionally, but he's pretty chill most of the time. And he makes a killer cup o' joe. Why don't you put on a pot for us, buddy?"
Responding to the request, the spider climbed down Limbo's leg and skittered across the floor, prompting Samba to take a step back as it scuttled past to the kitchen, climbed up onto the counter, and flicked the switch on the coffee maker.
As unnerved as Samba was, the sight of a spider making coffee was almost as bizarre as a talking, disembodied head. "It... can make coffee?"
"Well, he can turn on the pot. I mean, he's a spider. He can only do so much."
Samba took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Okay... I guess it shouldn't be too surprising that a zombie would have a pet spider."
Limbo cleared her throat, pointing toward the kitchen. Samba followed her hoof to find Webber staring straight at her from the countertop, and she drew back uncomfortably. If she didn't know any better, she could have sworn the spider was glaring at her with its eight beady eyes.
"He's not my pet, he's my partner," Limbo corrected. "And he takes offense to stuff like that. I'd apologize if I were you."
Samba gulped. "He's not gonna, like... bite me, is he?"
"Don't worry, he's not venomous."
"Not what I asked."
"Just apologize and it'll be fine."
Samba just continued to stare at the spider, not wanting to take her eyes off it. Webber was tapping a leg on the counter impatiently. "Uh... S-Sorry..."
After a moment of uncomfortable staring, Webber turned around to tend to the coffee pot again, allowing Samba to start breathing again.
"How exactly did this, uh... 'relationship' start?" asked Samba, still with some disbelief.
"Well, as we discussed previously, I do what I can to mitigate my 'unique' body odor, but some animals are more naturally attuned to the smell of rot and decay. Namely: flies. It's not uncommon for me to have a small swarm of them following me home on a hot day."
"Gross," Samba blanched in disgust.
"Agreed. Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I don't have an aversion to the same things living folk are off-put by. But I guess other creatures took notice of my plight and decided to take advantage." Limbo glanced toward the spider watching the coffee pot fill up. "Came home one day and found this dink snuggled up in a nest he built up in the corner of my office waiting for his takeout order to show up."
"And you just... let him hang out?"
"Pfft, no. I spent the better part of an hour chasing him around the apartment trying to swat him with a rolled up newspaper. But he's a squirrely one, and I eventually got fed up and just let him do whatever."
"And that's it?" Samba questioned skeptically. "You just kinda... became friends?"
Limbo shrugged. "Well, it's more complicated than that. We've got a symbiotic relationship. I noticed a lot less flies around my apartment while he was here, so his stay here became more of an arrangement. I lead the flies home, he gets to eat pretty much whenever, and, in turn, he prevents them from buzzing in my ears and laying eggs in my brain when I'm sleeping."
"Sounds more like a roommate than a partner," Samba commented.
"Oh, he's actually surprisingly useful during my investigations. His specialties are reconnaissance and infiltration. I sometimes send him in to gather intel for me on the downlow."
It seemed like everything Limbo said just raised yet another question. Samba was starting to feel like she was going to be here all night. "How exactly does he tell you, though?"
Limbo walked over to the kitchen to pour herself her mug of coffee. "I've kinda learned to interpret his body language, but some stuff does get lost in translation. Kinda hit or miss, really." Webber stared at her from the counter and she rolled her eye at him. "Oh, stuff it. I know you try your best, but you're fully aware of your own limitations."
"And it doesn't bother you having him crawling around in your skull?" Just saying that sent an uncomfortable shiver down Samba's spine.
"I tickles a bit sure, but he's usually pretty good at staying still in there, so it's no biggie. Honestly, I sometimes forget he's even there. Case and point: I forgot to introduce you until now." Limbo held up the coffee pot to Samba. "Want a cup?"
Samba let out a long, exasperated sigh. She still had a lot of questions, but she wasn't really in the mental state anymore to continue this conversation. "Uh, no, thanks. It's, um... already late as it is. I'm grateful for your help earlier and you seem like a nice person, but, honestly, I think I just want to go home now." She ran a hoof through her somewhat disheveled, blonde mane, yawning as she did so. "Although, admittedly, I doubt I'll actually get much sleep. I've seen enough stuff tonight that I wish I could un-see. I probably won't be sleeping for the next month."
"Oh, alright... Well, it was fun meeting you anyway. Sorry if I mentally or emotionally scarred you," Limbo chuckled with an awkward and apologetic grin. "But, hey, maybe we could talk some other time. Oh, but I just wanna ask one more time: can you keep all this a secret? If word got to Princess Twilight that there was a zombie wandering around, she might have the spell on me removed before I can find Poe."
Samba managed a weak smile in her exasperated state. "I will. It's the least I can do to repay you for helping me out tonight." She turned to the door to leave, but hesitated, suddenly feeling like something had caught in her throat. "Um... Speaking of which, I-I don't know if I have the nerve to walk home alone tonight." She grinned sheepishly. "C-Can I ask...?"
Limbo accepted her request with a smile. "An escort? I think I can accommodate. I would normally charge for protective services, but just this once, I'll waive the fee," she joked. "Webber, hold down the fort until I get back."
"Um... I-It was nice meeting you... Webber," Samba awkwardly said, feeling weird about talking to a spider, but also not wanting to tick him off, just in case.
The spider lifted a leg in what could perhaps be interpreted as a half-hearted wave.
With that, Limbo left to escort Samba home after a long, exhausting night full of stuff the unicorn never would have expected in a million years, and she was well aware of the irony of feeling safer walking home with a zombie to keep her safe from a living person. There was a large part of her that was hoping that she'd wake up tomorrow morning to find out that this had all been a weird dream, or a hallucination caused by her drowsiness. Of course, she knew in the back of her mind she wouldn't be that lucky.
While most people with a regular job would usually be woken up by the blaring of their alarm clock, or the much less grating sound of a phone's ringtone, it was neither that usually woke Samba. The dancer worked late nights, which meant she typically headed straight for bed when she got home—shower optional. She didn't have to start work until the evening, so it didn't really matter how long she slept in. But, as previously stated, Samba had to be woken up by something. It was the light of the golden sun infiltrating her bedroom window through the smallest of gaps at the edge of the curtain, because apparently whoever built the cheap apartment complex she lived in didn't bother to measure the curtain rod to make sure it matched the width of the window. And that little gap just so happened to be positioned in the perfect spot for the invading sunlight to pierce through Samba's eyelids.
So awaken she did, as she did every morning. Her eyes creaked open, still heavy and weary, but she knew there was no point in trying to get an extra hour of sleep, or even a few minutes. She stared straight at the clock, and it stared back. Eleven o' clock; a little later than she usually managed to sleep, despite how tired she still felt. Now awake, Samba did the first thing that most people do once they first open their eyes in the morning: check her phone. She snatched her spellphone off the nightstand, laying on her back and propping it up on her chest.
No new messages. No missed calls. The usual. She wasn't surprised; Samba didn't really have any friends she kept in regular contact with. Tap was just a work friend. She liked talking to him, but they've never hung out outside of work. Still, even though this was what she expected every morning, it was always a little depressing.
But as she stared at the screen, Samba noticed the last messages she'd received. Rhapsody had texted her while she was walking home last night. A small smile managed its way onto her face. At least she knew what she was doing today. Maybe he'd be willing to let her stay awhile and chat.
But she'd have to make herself presentable first. Samba crawled out of bed with a sleepy yawn, shuffling her way to the kitchen of her small apartment to pour herself a bowl of the cheapest cereal she could find at the supermarket. After her breakfast, she headed for the bathroom. Samba stared at herself in the mirror. She hadn't bothered to shower last night, opting to head straight for bed, so she still smelled a bit like sweat. However, she lifted a leg to sniff her coat more closely. It wasn't just sweat. She felt like there was something else mixed in.
That's when it all came back to her: the events of last night. Limbo. Samba stared at her reflection, blinking in disbelief. Had it been a dream? It had to be, right? Zombie's aren't real. So what reason would her coat have to smell faintly of garbage and coffee? She didn't even drink coffee.
Samba closed her eyes and shook her head. "You know what? I'm not even gonna think about it. Even if it was real, I'll probably never see her again anyway. So just keep your mouth shut, Samba, and don't bring it up. People'll just think you're crazy."
Having convinced herself well enough, Samba went about her morning rituals, taking a quick shower, then fixing herself up for the day ahead. Her bathroom sink was cluttered with all kinds of makeup and cosmetics. She didn't normally use the stuff during the day, only opting to style her mane typically, but it was pretty much required for her job. Looking good for the pub's patrons was how she made her income. She didn't need to doll herself up right now, though; she'd save that for tonight before heading into work.
But that did remind her of something else. Samba had nearly been assaulted last night, presumably by the guy who had been leaving those creepy messages. How was she supposed to go into work tonight knowing he was still out there, potentially waiting for her? He could very well be in the crowd tonight, watching her intently as she danced on stage. How was she supposed to focus when she could feel his eyes staring at her.
Samba ran a hoof through her wet mane, taking a deep breath. She had to do something. She couldn't just not go to work. She needed the money. It seemed like that was another errand she'd need to run today. She should probably talk to her boss about the situation, or at least Tap, and figure out a solution. Maybe she'd inform the cops, but she didn't exactly have a detailed description of the guy to give them. She would start by heading over to the pub and seeing what she could do from there.
So, with an itinerary in mind for the day, Samba dried her mane and styled it to its usual luxurious waviness. She grabbed her spellphone and made for the door.
The moment she turned the handle, the door suddenly swung inwards, causing Samba to stagger backwards in surprise. On top of that, another pony tumbled into the apartment, landing on her back on the floor and now staring up at Samba with an upside down smile.
"Yello."
Samba just stared down at the pony—a green coated, one-eyed mare—flabbergasted to find them now laying on her apartment floor. But her presence here clinched it: it wasn't a dream.
"Limbo?! The hay are you doing here?!"
"Waiting for you," she answered nonchalantly as she righted herself and dusted herself off.
Limbo took a moment to look over Samba's apartment. The curtains were still pulled tight, leaving the room dimly lit by what sunlight could manage to filter through them, and the apartment was mostly devoid of anything noteworthy; just your usual couch, coffee table, and television in the living room. However, there were several cardboard boxes scattered here and there that looked like they'd yet to be unpacked. How long they've been there was anypony's guess, as they had already accumulated some dust.
"Nice place you got here," Limbo complimented. "Very minimalist. Seems like a good place to do some serious thinking."
Samba simply blinked, as though she couldn't comprehend this mare's existence—which wasn't far off the mark really. "Seriously, what are you doing here?"
Limbo lolled her head back and forth awkwardly. "Weeell, I don't know what time you usually get up, and I brought you home rather late last night, so I figured I'd just sit outside your apartment and wait for you. Anypony ever tell you you move like a mouse? Never heard a sound out of you until you opened the door. Super stealthy."
Samba ran a hoof down her face, already exasperated by this conversation. "You're not answering my question. Why were you waiting for me?"
The undead mare sighed, looking a mite embarrassed; if her blood was actually flowing, she'd be blushing slightly right now. "Truth be told, you're the first person besides Poe who knows about..." She glanced down the halls of the apartment building, then leaned in to whisper to Samba. "...my secret. I was thinking about it last night, and it felt kinda... liberating to actually talk about it to somepony, especially knowing that you were being so accepting of it. I figured anypony would've just run off screaming."
"To be fair, I was a little too mortified to run in the moment."
"Anyway, I..." Limbo tapped her hooves together sheepishly. "...was thinking maybe we could hang out?" she requested with a wide, pleading smile.
Samba cocked an eyebrow. "That's it? You just want to hang out?"
"Look, after Poe was kidnapped, I didn't have any friends left. I kinda told my former colleagues at the station where they could go, and now all I have is Webber, and he's not much of a conversationalist in case you hadn't noticed. I can go a little stir-crazy in my apartment if I don't have somepony to talk to."
Samba wasn't going to say out loud that she figured that about somepony as talkative as Limbo. "Don't you have cases you're supposed to be investigating?"
Limbo's ear drooped, looking a little dejected. "Oh... You, uh... don't wanna hang out, then?"
Now Samba just felt guilty. It shouldn't have been too surprising that a zombie might be a little lonely in the world of the living. "I-I didn't mean it like that. I just... wasn't exactly expecting to see you again so soon, that's all. I thought you had more important things to do than spend time hanging out with a nopony like me, like finding your best friend."
"Hey, I've been on this case for a few years at this point. With little to go on, I can't expect to just randomly come across the answer."
Samba brushed a hoof through her mane with a sigh. She had plans today, but after what happened last night, she was feeling more than a little vulnerable. Limbo had been the one to protect her after that frightening incident, and all things considered, she'd rather spend time with a zombie she knew was friendly than risk bumping into somepony who could very well be an utter creeper. "Alright. I guess I do owe you for saving me. I've got some errands to run, so if you wanna come with, be my guest."
Limbo perked up rather quickly after that, a delighted grin spreading across her lips. "Great. So, what's on the docket, then?"
"Well, I was just headed over to where I work," Samba told her as they left her second floor apartment, locking the door behind her.
"Thought you worked nights," Limbo remarked.
"I do, but..." Samba paused as they descended the stairs, a sigh escaping her lungs. "I've gotta talk to my boss about what happened last night."
"Whoa, whoa, you promised you wouldn't say anything!" Limbo spat in shock.
"About that guy who attacked me," Samba corrected with an eye roll.
"Oh, right," she chuckled apologetically. "Sorry, like I said, you're the only person who knows, so I guess I'm still a little paranoid. Not that I don't trust you or anything, though. Just sayin'."
"It's fine. Given what's at stake for you, I can't say I blame you."
The two stepped out into the busy streets of midday Baltimare. People of all walks of life were going to and fro, not just ponies, but many other species of creature as well. Equestria had become a melting pot of culture ever since Princess Twilight Sparkle inherited the throne, and over the past couple of decades since, the kingdom and its allies were experiencing a golden age of peace and prosperity between the world's many peoples. While ponies still made up the majority of the populace in most Equestrian towns and cities, it was commonplace nowadays to see other creatures intermingling with them, from griffons to changelings to yaks and even the occasional dragon. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.
But how many zombies were walking around? As far as Samba knew, just one. Out of all the varied species of creatures she saw everyday, an undead mare had been quite the surprise. And here she was, walking alongside her casually like it was no biggie. She wasn't sure what exactly it was that made fate decide that her life should take this turn, but right now she had other things to deal with that were more important than the smiling zombie walking next to her.
After walking down a few city blocks, Samba and Limbo arrived at the pub where the dancer worked. On the outside, it looked pretty much like your run-of-the-mill bar, with a neon sign in the window displaying the logo and name—The Brewery—in bright green. On the inside, however, it was a different story, the stage and rather high ceiling and open space it offered making it look perhaps fancier than it actually was. It may have been around noon, but the pub still had its fair share of patrons even at this hour—mostly people who had nothing better to do with their lives other than drown their time in a stiff drink.
Samba immediately turned her attention to the counter, where she was surprised to see Tap mixing drinks. "Hey, Tap. What are you doing here so early?" she asked as she and Limbo sat at the bar.
Tap sighed and rolled his eyes, though he never let his amicable smile leave his face. "Cask called in sick, so guess who got called to fill in for him and pull an extra long shift tonight."
"That's not really fair," Samba commented with a sympathetic grimace.
Tap shrugged. "Not much we can do about it until they hire more staff to cover situations like this. But, to be fair, I was gonna ask what you're doing here so early. I can't imagine you're just eager to get back up on that stage already."
Samba leaned on the bar with a somber groan. "That's more true than you even know."
Tap arched an eyebrow at the sullen look on her face. "What do you mean by that?"
"I was gonna talk to Brew about it, but I'd honestly rather talk to you because I know you'll take it seriously." Samba looked Tap in the eye. "'You-know-who' was following me last night."
"What? Are you sure it was him?" Tap asked in surprise.
Samba nodded slowly. "Said he was tired of waiting. Then he tried to assault me."
Worry overcame Tap's face, and he reached out to hold Samba's hoof comfortingly. "Oh my gosh, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just lucky that Limbo happened to be nearby when it happened."
Tap turned to the mare seated next to Samba
Limbo gave the bartender a friendly wave. "Hey-a."
"I was gonna ask about that," Tap said with a quiet chuckle. "I figured she wasn't just a random stranger who happened to come in at the same time."
"So, yeah, this is Limbo," Samba introduced. "And, Limbo, this is my coworker, Tap."
"Nice to meet you," greeted Limbo.
Tap returned the greeting with a nod and a grin. "Ditto. And thanks for looking out for my pal here."
Limbo shrugged her shoulders, acting modest, but unable to hide her self-satisfied smirk. "All in a night's work."
"I guess the question is: why were you out so late?" inquired Tap.
Limbo leaned on the bar with an insulted pout—clearly facetious. "Well, aren't you nosy?"
"I'm a bartender. People expect me to ask questions and offer sage wisdom," he laughed.
"Yeah, when they have problems. I don't have any grievances to air."
"So you were just out for a leisurely jaunt at two in the morning?" Tap leaned forward, putting on a compassionate, but also playful smile. "Come on, tell ol' Tap what's wrong."
Limbo then forced a pained sniffle, pretending to be on the verge of tears. "Daddy's never been proud of me. He just drinks all night and ignores me."
"Really?"
Limbo had to choke back an amused snort, dropping the façade. "Pfft, no. I'm a detective, always sniffing for leads, even in the dead of night. But I actually am a bit of a night owl too. No more to it than that."
"Good thing too. If you hadn't been, you wouldn't've caught the guy who's been creeping on Samba for ages," Tap stated gratefully.
Limbo broke eye contact, awkwardly tapping the bar with her hooves. "Yeeeeah, about that..."
Tap's expression fell. "Wait, so... you didn't catch him?"
"That's what I came here to talk about," Samba told him solemnly. "With that guy still out there, I don't know if I feel safe walking home at night anymore."
"I'd be more than happy to walk you home," he offered graciously.
Samba shook her head. "It's more than that. I'm not even sure if I can get up on the stage and perform knowing that any of the guys in that crowd could be him," she explained, her voice beginning to tremble slightly. "It's hard enough to keep up the act as it is. How am I supposed to work when I feel like his eyes are always on me? How am I supposed to feel safe?"
Limbo stared silently as Samba's breathing started to get shaky. She was beginning to feel more than a little guilty for letting the guy get away.
Tap looked to be deep in thought for a few moments, but never broke eye contact with Samba. He spoke up again with resolve. "Given everything you're going through right now, I think you might need some time off."
Limbo raised an eyebrow at that statement, but stayed quiet.
"I can't just take time off," Samba sighed. "I need the money."
Tap leaned forward again. "You 'need' to be able to relax. I've had the privilege of watching you dance on that stage for a long time, so you can bet your bottom dollar that I notice when your heart is not in it."
Samba's ears flattened against her head.
Tap smiled comfortingly. "You have vacation days. Use 'em, and take that time to figure things out. And, hey, if you need a shoulder to cry on..." He pat his own shoulder. "My coat's pretty absorbent."
A smile managed its way onto Samba's face. She never could keep a straight face when Tap went all "big sister" on her. She brushed a few errant strands of hair back into place with her hoof, sighing as she relented to Tap's advice. "Okay, you're probably right. I'll do that. I just need to talk to Brew and—"
Tap raised his hoof to cut her off, shaking his head. "Nope. Starting right now. I'll handle Brew, and if he has any problems with that, I'll take the brunt of it."
Samba grinned. As much as she would like to argue otherwise, she knew this was one of those times where Tap was absolutely not going to take no for an answer, so why bother? "You really are a doll, Tap."
"I try," he chuckled.
Samba leaned over the counter to give Tap a grateful hug before hopping off her stool. "Thanks, Tap. I'll try to enjoy my time off."
"You better."
Samba started heading for the door. Limbo glanced around awkwardly, her gaze eventually meeting Tap's. She forced a grin, then slid off her stool less than coolly. "Guess I'll just be... going now. Nice meeting you, Tap."
"Likewise," said Tap with a genuine smile. "Thanks again for helping her."
Limbo hesitated. Tap's thanks didn't sound disingenuous, but it did manage to bring the guilt back up like old leftovers. "Oh, uh, yeah. No problem," was all she said before making to catch up to Samba.
As they started down the sidewalk once again, Samba cast an apologetic grin to her undead companion while keeping an eye out for any passing taxis. "Sorry if that got a little... Uh, I'll say 'personal.' Probably made you a bit uncomfortable, huh?"
"Actually, it's probably for the best," Limbo responded with uncharacteristic seriousness. "Like your friend said, you shouldn't have to deal with that stress, and you wouldn't have to if I had actually done my job and apprehended the dude."
"Don't beat yourself up about it. You helped plenty. It could've been a lot worse if you hadn't been there."
"But you just got through saying that you feel unsafe, and I'm taking responsibility for that."
"Limbo, listen, you—"
"Nah, nah, nah, we ain't havin' this back and forth," Limbo interrupted resolutely. "I'm gonna catch that guy as my way of making up for letting him get away. I'm staking my pride as a detective on it."
Samba smiled gratefully. "Limbo—"
"A-bup!" Limbo pressed her hoof firmly against Samba's lips, cutting her off and surprising the dancer. "Stop yer arguin'! I'm doing this, and you ain't stoppin' me! In fact, now I'm gonna do it for free just to show you how sorry I am! How you like them apples?!"
Samba blinked as Limbo removed her hoof. "Uh, I was just gonna say thanks, that's all."
"Oh." Limbo scratched her chin, looking more than a little embarrassed about her outburst, especially considering she'd earned the attention of a few passersby. "Well, in that case, you're welcome. And I'll still do it for free. I'm a mare of my word."
"I appreciate it. The only question I have is—and I'm not trying to convince you not to do it or anything—what about your other case? You know, the Ghost?"
Limbo flicked her hoof dismissively. "Pfft. I've been on that case since the kidnappings started. You think I make a living only handling one case at a time? Stalkers and petty thieves and vandals and the like that the B.P.D. don't make time for are like my little side jobs. The Ghost is a priority, sure, but I'm not exactly expecting to be able to solve the case any time soon. I'm just one mare after all. Eesh!"
Samba drew back when Limbo suddenly winced as if in pain.
"Yeah, yeah, I know, chill out," Limbo grumbled seemingly to herself.
"What was that?" asked Samba worriedly.
"Webber."
Samba could feel the blood starting to drain from her face all of a sudden. "H-He's in there right now?"
"Yeah, he's with me most of the time. Never know when I might need his help, but it's mostly because I can't leave him alone at the apartment for more than a couple of hours or he covers the place in webs. Eeyah!" Limbo twitched again, earning some odd looks from passing citizens. "Would you stop? We're in public, you goon."
"What's he even doing to you?"
"Jamming his scrawny legs into the wrinkles of my grey matter and triggering synaptic responses. It doesn't actually hurt, but it's really annoying."
Samba shuddered. The idea of a spider controlling your muscle reactions like it was piloting a giant robot was a tad unsettling. However, the topic did remind Samba that she still had a lot of questions for Limbo. "So, is your brain still, like, intact, or what?"
Limbo glanced around discreetly at the other people wandering the sidewalks. "You wanna talk about it this now?"
"Oh, sorry. There's just a lot of things I'm still curious about, that's all."
The zombie flicked her hoof. "Eh, whatever. We'll just keep it discreet. Anyway, to answer your question, everything is partially rotted, but the spell makes everything work. I'm not an expert, but from what Poe told me, the magic just kinda... 'fills in the gaps.' That's really the simplest way to put it."
"So, are you, like, immortal, then?"
"Nah. I mean, as long as the spell holds up I can last potentially forever, but the magic is tied to my brain. If my brain is damaged too much, the spell wears off I go kaputsky again. Which is why I'd like a certain someone to stop poking around in there. Gyeh!" Limbo yelped once more, scowling up toward her forehead. "Don't make me put you in the bathtub when we get home. You wanna spend all night trying to crawl outta that?" She waited for a response, but felt nothing. "Yeah, that's what I thought."
"You've been a zom—er, like this for a while, right?" Samba asked.
"Couple of years now, yeah. Why?"
"How have you managed to keep it a secret for so long? I mean, what if something happens and you need to go to the hospital or something?"
Limbo cast her a deadpan stare. "For what? I'm dead. There's not exactly much a doctor can do for me at this point. I can't get sick, and the spell repairs most injuries, as you've seen for yourself."
"Okay. I mean, that actually seems kinda convenient, doesn't it? You don't have to worry about medical bills, or be afraid of anything dangerous, really."
Limbo smirked amusedly at Samba. "Are you actually jealous of a dead person?"
Samba gently brushed a hoof through her bangs. Limbo had been expecting at least a quiet giggle when Samba realized what she was saying, but there was a sudden sullen look on her face.
"All things considered, your afterlife seems to be more 'on track' than my life... At least you know what you want to do with the time your friend gave you. You have a goal—a mission. And even though you're worried about her, you still somehow manage to be optimistic."
Limbo wasn't quite sure what to say. She didn't know Samba well enough to offer any advice, and her personal experiences might not exactly translate well. But getting to know her a little better might give her the knowledge she needed to help. After all, Samba was a client now; she needed as much information as she could get. In a case like Samba's, helping her cope emotionally was as important as catching her attacker. She couldn't leave a client unsatisfied.
"So, uh... You still have errands to run, right? Where we headed now?" inquired Limbo in an effort to both gather some intel and hopefully change the subject.
Samba finally managed to hail a cab, a pair of stallions pulling up alongside them pulling a black and yellow taxi carriage. "My ex's place," she answered, giving the pair of cabbies the address.
Not the answer Limbo was expecting. She hesitated for a moment before climbing inside the carriage and sitting next to Samba, the taxi starting on its way across town. She couldn't exactly tell what Samba was thinking; her expression was pretty unreadable at the moment. "Oh. When you said 'errands,' I figured you were going grocery shopping, or visiting a salon or something."
"He's got some of my stuff that I need to pick up, that's all." Samba instinctively pulled out her spellphone, checking to see if she had perhaps missed a text, but only saw the same thing that was there this morning and last night. She slipped it back into its sleeve. "We probably won't be long anyway."
The sigh that escaped from Samba's lips would have been nearly imperceptible to most people, but not Limbo. It was evident by Samba's body language that she was expecting this visit to be a little uncomfortable. "You want me to maybe hang back? Having to deal with your ex-boyfriend sounds like personal business."
"Ex-husband."
"Oh. Uh... Does that make it worse? I dunno, I'm no expert on relationships."
"It's fine, you can come with. I think I could use a little moral support anyway."
That statement made the relationship between Samba and her ex sound pretty serious. And after a request like that, how could Limbo say no? She wanted to help her out in any way she could, so this seemed like a good place to start. Limbo put on a tough, reassuring face, patting her chest confidently. "Well, if that's the case, I'd be happy to accompany you. And if he tries anything, I'll step in and show that jerk what-for. He probably didn't deserve you anyway."
Samba let out another breath through her nose. "You're right, he didn't deserve me, but not in the way you're probably thinking..."
That caught Limbo off guard. "Wait, so... Was he not a jerk to you?"
Samba shook her head. "No, he wasn't. Rhapsody is one of the sweetest, most passionate people I know. I was the problem in our relationship, not him."
Limbo didn't say anything at first. Judging by the self-depreciating tone of her voice, this was something that Samba judged herself rather harshly about. Limbo wasn't entirely sure if she should let her talk about this; it really wasn't any of her business. "Alright, you don't have to say anymore if it's too uncomfortable for you."
"No, no, it's okay." Samba looked Limbo in her one eye. "I'm your client, so it's in your best interest to learn as much about me as you can, right?"
Limbo blinked. It was like she was reading her mind.
Samba smiled, an unexpected expression of gratitude on her face. "Besides, you trusted me with a lot of personal information about yourself. It seemed like trust was pretty important to you last night, so I want to show you that I do trust you."
If Limbo's heart could still beat, it may have skipped one just now. What was she supposed to say to that?
"You're about to meet him anyway, so you might as well have some context for anything we might say to each other."
"It's not gonna get heated, is it?" Limbo asked cautiously.
"Probably not. At least, I hope not," Samba answered with just a touch of doubt. "We've known each other for a long time. We were high school sweethearts, as madly in love as we could be." She twirled the ends of her wavy mane self-consciously. "I guess the problem was that I was too dependent on him. He was always so driven and passionate, and that's why I fell in love with him. After we graduated, we moved in together, got married, and from there I just put my hooves up and let him do all the work."
"But you're a dancer, right? It wasn't like you weren't contributing," Limbo presumed.
A shameful blush tinted Samba's cheeks. "I've only had that job for half a year, after we got divorced. I actually got my cutie mark when I was young. I had a dream of dancing on stage in front of hundreds of people. But after I met Rhapsody, I just kinda... let that dream fall by the wayside and started leaning more on him. I mean, he was successful. He's the lead guitarist in band and he owns a record store. We were pretty well off without me needing a job."
Another long sigh escaped her lungs, her ears falling flat and the guilt and remorse more visible in her eyes than the pink of her irises. "Then Pira came along..."
Limbo cocked an eyebrow. "'Pira'?"
"Pirouette. Our daughter."
Yet another surprise to catch Limbo off guard. "Oh. Didn't expect you to be a mom. No offense."
"And that's the problem right there," Samba muttered. "After we had Pirouette, that's when Rhapsody started noticing my dependency on him. I'm... not really parent material. I was so afraid I'd do something wrong when we were raising her that I just let him do everything. Rhapsody just got increasingly frustrated with having all that work thrust onto him until he figured that if I wasn't going to help anyway... why did I need to be there...?"
"I'm not mad at him, not at all. Like I said, I was the problem, so I understand why he wanted to break up. I was only making his life harder. And I don't want to blame Pira for our divorce, but she was what made us both realize how useless I actually am... Rhapsody and Pira both deserve better than me..."
"I..." Limbo was at a loss for words. While she wanted to provide some emotional support for Samba, this level of dysfunction was a little outside her wheelhouse. It was pretty surreal to encounter somepony with a problem that was more depressing than being dead.
It was hard to continue the conversation from that point. Samba was looking a little too sullen to say any more, and Limbo didn't have any expertise to offer her. The rest of the taxi ride was made in rather uncomfortable silence, with only the clopping of the cabbies' hooves on the street to add ambiance.
Eventually, they arrived at their destination. Samba and Limbo exited the taxi, the former paying the cabbies their fare, while the latter had a look around to see where they'd gone. Whereas Samba lived in downtown Baltimare, her ex-husband apparently lived further uptown. It wasn't like there was much of a difference between uptown and downtown, just that downtown was closer to the harbor, while uptown closer to the business district and town hall. Apartments tended to be cheaper downtown, which was why Samba had opted to move there after her divorce.
They had stopped in front of one of uptown Baltimare's apartment buildings, presumably where Rhapsody and Pirouette lived. The entrance had a buzzer for each apartment, something that Samba's cheaper building lacked. The dancer tapped one of the buttons for a room on the second floor, and after a few moments, the clicking of the front door's lock could be heard, allowing them entry into the building. Limbo followed Samba up to the second floor, where the latter knocked on one of the doors.
After a moment, the door was opened by a handsome, maroon-coated, unicorn stallion, his white and yellow mane glistening with hair gel and hanging slightly in front of his right eye. His cutie mark depicted a golden vinyl record, and based on what Samba had described, it was pretty easy for Limbo to infer that this was her ex-husband Rhapsody.
Despite the tension no doubt lingering between the two, Samba met Rhapsody with a friendly, albeit sheepish smile. "Hi, Rhap."
"Hey," he greeted back, though with notably less emotion. "I was expecting you a little later, but whatever."
Samba sniffed the air, noting a distinct aroma of cooked vegetables. "I'm not interrupting lunch, am I?"
"Nah, we just finished. You eat yet?"
She shook her head. "I had a late breakfast, but no lunch yet."
"We've got some leftovers, if you want to take some home. Stir fry."
"Hard to say no to that. Your homemade sauce always made my mouth water."
He stepped aside to allow her in, but paused when he finally noticed somepony else standing with Samba in the hall. "Who's this?"
"Oh, right. Uh, this is Limbo. She's a friend. We met last night and she's been hanging out today so we can get to know each other. You don't mind, do you? We're not gonna be long."
"No, no, it's cool." Rhapsody gestured for the two of them to enter, offering his hoof to Limbo with an affable grin. "I'm Rhapsody. Don't know how much Samba's told you about me," he said, his grin becoming a tad crooked as he chuckled awkwardly.
Limbo assuaged any concern he may have had with a smile of her own. "Nothing but good. I was looking forward to meeting you actually."
Limbo shook his hoof, and she certainly didn't miss the slight confusion on his face when he noticed how cold her hoof was, though, like any other civil person would, he opted not to comment on it out of politeness.
After the introductions were over, Limbo had a look around the apartment. It wasn't anything too fancy, but certainly a lot swankier than Samba's apartment. The curtains were open for one, allowing the sun to brighten up the place. She immediately took note of the soundproofing foam affixed to most of the walls, and along with the speakers and the two different guitars in the corner, the living room looked more like a sound studio. Samba had mentioned that Rhapsody was a musician, but she would've figured that out on her own with just a cursory glance. Limbo then followed her nose to the kitchen, the stove still hot from cooking the aforementioned stir fry. It did indeed smell good, and also looked delectable as the leftovers sat in the frying pan on the dining table. The only curiosity that Limbo had left was not present, however, as Rhapsody seemed to be the only one in the immediate area.
"So, uh... making new friends, Samba?" Rhapsody remarked. "That's good. You said you met last night? How'd that happen?"
"She found me dumpster diving on her way home," Limbo answered with a genuine smile.
Rhapsody chuckled, assuming that was a joke. "No, seriously."
Samba shrugged. "She's not entirely wrong, but you're missing some context."
"I'm listening," Rhapsody said curiously, hoping that he didn't just invite a hobo into his home.
"Some creep at the bar was following me home and tried to attack me. Limbo jumped in and scared him off."
"Holy crap! Seriously?! Are you alright?!"
"Yes, I'm fine, thanks to her."
Rhapsody let out his breath, letting his heart rate level out again. "Thank Celestia."
Limbo quietly observed the stallion's shifting emotions. The two may have gotten divorced, but it was still pretty clear that Rhapsody still very much cared about Samba. Although, she was the mother of their child, so it made sense.
"And thank you, Limbo," Rhapsody said gratefully. "That was a stroke of luck that you happened to be there."
"Well, maybe save your thanks for the time being. Like I said, Samba found me in a dumpster, so I didn't actually catch the guy."
Rhapsody opened his mouth to make a comment, but was interrupted before he could get another word out.
"Mommy!"
From the hallway beyond the kitchen emerged a little unicorn filly, her coat a deep purple, and mane pale pink and curly. She immediately ran toward Samba with an ecstatic grin on her face, leaping up to give her a hug.
Samba happily hugged the filly right back, nuzzling her lovingly. "Hi, Pira. Did you have a big lunch today?"
"Mm-hm," the filly answered as she dangled from her mother's neck. "I had two plates!"
"Wow, you're gonna get big so quick if you keep eating like that," Samba giggled. "But since it's your dad's cooking, I can't say I blame you. You brush your teeth?"
The child flashed a toothy smile to show off her mouthful of sparkling whites.
"Good girl."
She set the little one back down onto the floor. The filly was about to then hurry over to her dad, but her bright, blue eyes caught sight of the third adult in the apartment and stopped in her tracks.
Limbo could sense the apprehension in the little pony, so she offered a friendly smile to make her feel more comfortable in her presence. "Hi. You must be Pirouette. I'm Limbo."
Pirouette didn't respond. Instead, she shrunk back, hiding behind her mother's leg and clinging to her cautiously.
Rhapsody offered an apologetic smile to his guest. "Sorry, I've taught her to be wary around strangers."
Samba leaned down, speaking to her daughter gently. "It's okay, Pira. She's mommy's friend. She's nice."
"Be polite and introduce yourself, sweetie," instructed Rhapsody.
Seeing the encouraging smiles on her parents' faces, Pirouette stepped out from behind her mother and sheepishly looked up at Limbo. "H-Hi. I'm... Pirouette."
The kid was clearly still a little pensive, but Limbo acted natural to help her be a little more open. "Nice to meet you."
All she got in response was a quiet, "Mm."
"She seems pretty shy," Limbo commented to the child's father.
"She's really not. She's normally a living ball of energy and optimism," Rhapsody told her. "Like I said, she's wary when strangers talk to her."
"It's a good rule for a little kid to follow. There's a lot of bad people out there."
"You don't have to tell me..." Samba said with a sigh.
"Have you told the cops yet?" her ex-husband asked.
Samba didn't have a chance to answer, being cut off when Limbo scoffed at the question.
"Pfft. Yeah, sure, tell the cops. Maybe they'll catch him some time next year," Limbo quipped vindictively.
"Whoa, hey, don't talk about the police like that in front of our daughter," Rhapsody scolded. "They're role models for little kids."
Limbo rolled her eye with a disgusted, "Ugh."
"Well, who exactly are you to judge them?"
"An ex-officer, that's who. Emphasis on the 'ex.' Quit the force to become a private detective. I've probably put in more work since I quit than they do as a collective."
"You're exaggerating," he deadpanned.
"Maybe a little, but I'm still serious."
"Um..."
Everypony glanced down at the quiet filly, who was staring up at Limbo.
"Wh-What's a private, uhh... detecive?"
"Detective," Samba corrected.
"They're like police officers, but they work by themselves," her father answered.
Pirouette's eyes widened a little. "Really? So... you catch bad people and put 'em on timeout?"
Limbo stifled a snicker at her innocence. "Pretty much, yeah."
The filly's cute smile returned, her reticence in the stranger's presence diminishing. "Cool."
A small smirk crept onto Limbo's face, but she refrained from casting it haughtily at Rhapsody.
"How many bad guys did you catch?" Pirouette inquired eagerly.
"Oh, lots. Too many to count. And I promised your mommy I was gonna catch the guy that tried to hurt her."
Pirouette turned to her mom worriedly. "Who tried to hurt you, Mommy?"
Samba shook her head, wearing a smile to show her daughter that she was alright. "I don't know who he was, but Limbo's the reason why he didn't hurt me."
The filly stared wide-eyed and interested at the detective. "Did you chase him?"
"Oh, yeah. It was a pretty intense chase too. He tried to ditch me down an alleyway, but I stayed on his tail, just two steps behind. I was ready to pounce him like a wild tiger, but he slipped away at the last second."
Pirouette listened with deep intent, her tail swishing excitedly as she hung on every word.
"You missed the part where you fell in a dumpster trying to do 'parkour,'" Samba interjected.
"She doesn't need to know that," Limbo hissed through clenched teeth.
"Is that why you smell funny?" the filly asked.
"Pira! That's not very polite," her father scolded.
"Oh, sorry..." Pirouette apologized sheepishly.
Limbo dismissed the comment with a smile. "Ah, no worries. I do tend to use too much perfume, though I would sincerely hope it doesn't smell like trash. Would kinda defeat the purpose, and I spend more money than I should on this stuff."
"It smells nice," Pirouette complimented. "But it makes my nose tickle." The remark was punctuated by a cute sneeze from the filly.
"Yeah, my bad. Maybe I could stand to tone it back a smidge. People's dogs tend to give me a wide berth, though I'm not exactly complaining about that."
"Mmm..."
Limbo saw the sudden look of curiosity on the filly's face, but it was mixed with a great deal of restraint. "Something wrong?"
Pirouette hesitated. "Daddy said to be polite..."
Limbo couldn't help but admire how considerate this little girl was for her age. But for as much restraint as she was showing, Pirouette couldn't prevent her eyes from repeatedly shifting to the object of her curiosity every few seconds. Limbo grinned knowingly. "You wanna ask about the eyepatch, right?"
Her purple cheeks tinted red in embarrassment at having been so easily read. "A little..."
"Pira, maybe you shouldn't pry," Rhapsody warned her.
"Oh, calm down," Limbo told him with a flick of her hoof. "It's not a sore spot or anything. Your mom asked about it too. Anypony who meets me is gonna have the question on their mind, so I might as well answer it. And to that end, I'll tell you that I do, in fact, only have one eye."
Now having permission to inquire, Pirouette let her curiosity come to the fore. "Really? What happened?"
"That's a complicated story, but suffice to say that paper airplanes and lighter fluid make for a dangerous combination."
"Can I see?" she asked eagerly.
Rhapsody interjected before Limbo could respond. "I would like to respectfully ask that you please not show my daughter what an eye socket looks like without an eyeball in it."
"Come on, you gotta desensitize them to stuff like this at an early age," Limbo bargained with a challenging grin.
"I'm gonna have to agree with Rhap," Samba chimed in. "I'd rather you didn't."
"Is it gross?" Pirouette asked, the disapproval from her parents only serving to encourage her interest.
"Totally disgusting," Limbo answered with a chuckle.
"Cool."
"Alright, can we please drop this subject now before our daughter ends up mentally scarred?" Rhapsody begged.
"Can I ask about the bad people she caught?" Pirouette pleaded.
"As long as she keeps it PG."
"Right, no gory stuff," Limbo confirmed, taking a seat on the couch with the filly.
With their daughter now thoroughly distracted by Limbo's stories, Rhapsody finally took the time to talk to his ex-wife. "You came over for a reason, right?"
"Uh, yeah, sorry. Didn't mean to take up so much of your time," Samba said somewhat dejectedly.
"Look, I'm not trying to rush you or anything. You and your friend are welcome to have lunch here if you want." He sat at the dining room table and gestured for her to join him.
"You're being pretty hospitable today," Samba mentioned as she took a seat, though her tone lacked relief or gratitude.
"Well, it sounds like you had a harrowing night. You sure you're okay? Emotionally, I mean."
Samba sighed, flicking the long strands of her golden, wavy hair absentmindedly. "I'm still a little shaken up, if that's what you're asking." Obviously she wasn't going to mention the other reason why last night had been a roller coaster for her—the reason sitting in the next room sharing stories with her daughter. "But at least Limbo is offering to find the guy. I do feel a little bad though. She's already got a lot on her plate."
"Just let her do her thing. She's a professional." Rhapsody glanced toward the living, where Limbo was standing on the couch and boisterously reenacting her capers for Pirouette. "Supposedly. Just be careful on your way home from work, or have Tap walk you home."
"Actually, I'm taking some time off to recuperate from this."
"What?"
Samba saw the sudden look of disapproval in her ex's eyes. It wasn't the first time she'd seen it.
"Taking time off? Why?"
She stared back, vexed by the question. "What do you mean, 'why?' Do you know how I felt last night when that guy grabbed me? I was terrified."
Rhapsody peered briefly over his shoulder to the living room again, making sure his guest and his daughter weren't listening in. He continued speaking to Samba in a slightly hushed, but still reprimanding tone. "I get that, but you can't just put everything down because you had a scare."
"I don't feel comfortable with that guy still out there..." Samba responded, her voice timid as her ears folded back.
Rhapsody wasn't swayed at all by her helpless demeanor, continuing to scold her like a child. "Look, I'm not saying you shouldn't feel that way, but you're an adult. You can't just hide from your problems until they go away. You've got a life you need to keep on track."
Samba's heart sank a little, looking pleadingly into Rhapsody's eyes. "I really don't want to have this conversation right now."
Rhapsody narrowed his eyes at her. "Is that why you brought her along? To prevent me from telling you this again in front of company?"
She tried to challenge his glare with one of her own, but there was clearly less confidence in her pink eyes compared to his green ones. "No, obviously not. I wasn't even expecting to see her again after last night."
"Why not? Aren't you a client?"
"Well, she only promised that today."
Rhapsody brushed a hoof across his long, gelled bangs with a sigh. "So, what I'm understanding here, based on the fact that you're here right now, is that you weren't even planning to go tell the police what happened last night. You just came straight over here."
"I stopped at the pub to talk to Tap first."
"To request time off out of nowhere."
Samba furrowed her brow at all his assumptions, but, again, there wasn't much strength of will behind her glares. "Actually, Tap was the one who suggested I take time off."
"And did you say no?" Rhapsody asked, though it was obviously rhetorical.
"Yeah, of course. A-At first..." she admittedly shamefully.
Rhapsody shook his head. "Samba, you need to get your priorities in order. Yes, you're feeling vulnerable right now, but sitting around doing nothing isn't going to change anything. You've been working at that pub for, what, six months? And you're already taking a vacation? You're already living paycheck to paycheck as it is. What are you going to do when you run out of money while you're just sitting at home?"
"Why are you doing this?" Samba whimpered, a sparkle of moisture welling up in her eyes. "I was attacked by a psycho last night and now you're getting mad at me? I don't need all this extra stress right now."
"Because I know you, and I know what you're like. Samba, you can't coast through life by making people feel sorry for you. But you know the real reason we're having this conversation—why we keep having this conversation."
Samba's eyes shifted to the living room, where her daughter was enthusiastically listening to Limbo's no doubt exaggerated stories.
"Despite how little time you spend with her compared to me, that little girl still idolizes her mother. That's both heartwarming and worrying for me. I want you to be a part of her life, yes, but she's too young to understand why we got divorced. I don't want those things rubbing off on her. So, you see where I'm coming from here? I'm not arguing about this for your sake. It's for hers. And I want you to be considering that too when you make decisions like this."
Any will Samba had left with which to defend herself had been effectively drained. She could never win an argument with Rhapsody, so why bother when it was only going to make her feel worse about herself? "I think I should head home..." she muttered in defeat and self-pity as she weakly rose from her chair.
Rhapsody ran a hoof down his face, exasperated by the conversation. "Fine." He stood up as well, taking the leftover stir fry to put it in a plastic container for Samba to take home. "Your stuff is in a box in the living room."
Samba meandered over to find the small box sitting next to the couch beside Limbo and Pirouette. She took a deep breath to try and push back the negativity rooted in her mind, forcing a smile for her daughter. "Okay, Pira. Mommy's going now."
The filly finally diverted her attention away from the yarns Limbo was spinning, giving her mother a somewhat hurt look. "Already? Aw..." Her smile returned quickly, standing on the couch to flash her mother a cute smile. "Can Lady Limbo stay though?"
Samba quirked an eyebrow at Limbo, who was avoiding eye contact awkwardly. "'Lady' Limbo? You didn't tell her to call you that, did you?"
"What? Noooo, I'm more humble than that," Limbo blatantly lied.
"Can she stay, Mommy? Please?" Pirouette pleaded with puppy dog eyes.
Limbo answered before Samba had a chance to, patting the kid on the head playfully. "Sorry, sport, but I should probably get going too. Without your mom here, I'd just be stranger in your home."
"Nuh-uh! You're my friend!"
Limbo curled her lip, touched by the little filly's declaration. She was about to actually ask Samba if she could stay, but the drained expression on the dancer's face answered the question for her. Besides, it wasn't even Samba's place to give her that permission. "While I appreciate that, I really can't. I gotta find that bad guy who tried to hurt your mom."
"Oh, yeah! Okay! And when you catch him, you'll tell me the story, right?" Pirouette suggested excitedly.
"You got it. Uh, provided the details are family friendly." Limbo then headed over to the door to wait for Samba.
The other mare listlessly stared down at the box of odds and ends and leftover cosmetics that Rhapsody had gathered up for her to take home. She sighed, then her horn began to glow a pale pink. Limbo watched curiously as the same pink aura appeared around the box on the floor, but the magical light flickered weakly, and Samba seemed to be struggling just to lift the relatively small box even an inch off the ground before she had to drop it again.
Samba panted lightly, and it was difficult to tell if the redness that had flushed her cheeks was a result of exertion or embarrassment. "Um, Pira? Can you help Mommy, please?"
Pirouette happily agreed with a cute grin, the little unicorn using her own magic to wrap the box in a dark blue aura, lifting it with relative ease onto her mother's back.
"Thanks, sweetie," said Samba, smiling gratefully at her daughter.
Limbo observed the brief interaction curiously, her eyes shifting discreetly between the mother and child as Samba made to join her.
The blonde mare glanced back at her daughter one more time. "Okay, Pira. Mommy's leaving." Pirouette hurried over to give her mother a hug. "I'll visit again soon if I can." But the smile drained from Samba's face when Rhapsody came over to give her the packaged leftovers. "Bye, Rhapsody..." she bid him quietly.
He said nothing to her, but a lot could be conveyed through the expression on his face alone, and that certainly didn't escape Limbo's vigilant eye. However, he did manage a hospitable grin at his guest, though it looked a tad forced. "It was nice meeting you, Limbo. Good luck helping Samba."
"Likewise, and thanks."
"Bye, Mommy! Bye, Lady Limbo!"
Limbo gave the filly a wave as she and Samba took their leave, headed down the stairs, and back out onto the sidewalk to head back to Samba's place now that her errands were finished.
As they walked, Limbo found herself repeatedly glancing sidelong to her companion. Samba was keeping her gaze down, staring vacantly at the sidewalk as she trudged along. Limbo was pretty sure she knew what was on her mind, but also had a feeling it was something of a touchy subject. Regardless, as somepony who didn't advocate keeping feelings bottled up, and given her decision to provide emotional support for her client, Limbo felt the need to inquire.
"Soooo..." she started, trying to find the right words to approach the subject. "Couldn't help but notice that back there."
Samba sighed deeply. "Oh, you caught that, huh? I didn't think you were paying attention."
"It was hard not to, if I'm being honest."
"I guess it was unavoidable... Sorry," Samba apologized depressingly.
"You don't have to apologize. I'm sure it's a sensitive subject, but considering how much I've shared with you, I'm gonna be a little brazen here and ask about it anyway. You seemed like you were having difficulty lifting that box with your magic. What's up with that?"
Samba finally looked up and at Limbo, blinking in surprise. "Huh?"
"It just struck me as a little odd for a full grown unicorn to be unable to lift something like that. It doesn't seem very heavy. Even Pirouette was able to lift it without much issue.
"Oh, that." Samba shook her head, a little relieved, but also a mite embarrassed. "Uh, well... I, uh... I suffer from... f-funnel horn..." she muttered under her breath.
Limbo cocked an eyebrow. "Funnel horn?"
"It's a medical condition in some unicorns. It basically means I can't use very much magic."
"Like, your magic is weaker, or you don't have as much as other unicorns?"
"Neither. The doctors said I have the same amount of magic in me as the average unicorn, I just can't channel very much into my horn at once. The best way to explain is to use the name. Just picture pouring a bucket of water into a funnel. You might have a lot of water, but the funnel slows the flow down to a trickle. Does that make sense?"
"Yeah, I get it. Sounds rough. I mean, without magic, you're basically an earth pony. And I can say that, being one myself. Is it a common illness?"
"It's pretty common in young foals, but it's rare for an adult to have it. But it's not technically an illness or a disease. It's more like a... complication. See, infant unicorns don't have much control over their magic, but their bodies develop natural limiters over the first few months after birth to protect themselves from their own magic. After that, it's on the unicorn to overcome those limiters, usually through practice, or receiving some sort of shock that causes their magic to spike. Unicorn foals typically get over it around the time they hit puberty, usually when they get their cutie mark since their magic tends to synergize with their special talent."
"And that never happened to you?"
Samba shook her head. "Nope. My special talent is dancing, and that doesn't have anything to do with magic." She sighed once more, a self-defeated frown curling her lips. "And I've lived a pretty laid back life. So there's never really been anything to give me a significant enough shock to overcome it."
"Hmm..."
Samba glanced at Limbo. The zombie mare seemed to be pondering something. "What's wrong?"
"You said foals usually overcome it around puberty, when they earn their cutie mark. But Pira is, what, five?"
"She will be pretty soon. Her fifth birthday is coming up in a few months."
"She seemed pretty adept with her magic for such a young filly, even though she didn't have her cutie mark."
Samba actually managed a proud smile. "Oh, yeah. I mean, she certainly didn't get that from me, that happens sometimes. Some foals learn to use their magic at much younger ages. Those unicorns are considered 'gifted' since having access to magic at a younger age gives them more time to hone it. Rhapsody and I are actually planning on enrolling Pira into Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns later this year."
Limbo grinned, impressed by the news. "Really? That's pretty cool. Good for her."
Samba's smile faltered slightly, her gaze falling to the sidewalk again. "Yeah... I just wish I could help her study for the entrance exam. It just hammers home how useless I am as a parent... I can't raise her properly, I can't teach her anything..."
"You say that, but she clearly loves you, and you love her too," Limbo pointed out judging by the interactions she'd just seen.
"Of course I do. She's my daughter. Pira means the world to me. But she probably sees me more as a friend than a parent, because that's all I really can be." Her ears drooped guiltily. "The problem is... if you were to put me in a situation where it was my life or hers, I would probably hesitate. And I hate myself for that. A good parent would sacrifice themselves in an instant to save their child."
Limbo could clearly see the self-loathing and guilt taking root in Samba's head. It felt like they'd come full circle from their conversation earlier that day. "Do you agree with Rhasody? Do you think you're a bad influence on Pirouette?"
Samba stared at her after that peculiar comment.
"Sorry, I overheard your discussion," Limbo apologized. "I brought up the magic thing to try and take your mind off it."
Samba sighed. There was no sense in pushing her emotions down now when Limbo was pretty much aware of the problem and the exact relationship between her and Rhapsody. "I can't say I disagree with him. Our divorce really shined a light on exactly what kind of person I really am. There've been plenty of times where I thought it might be better if I just stayed out of Pira's life altogether. Seeing the smile on her face when I visit is both heartwarming and painful. Rhapsody is right: I don't want her to turn out like me. But I also don't want her to hate me..."
"So what are you going to do about it?"
Now that was a question Samba felt like she'd heard a million times, both from Rhapsody and herself. What was she going to do about it? What could she do about? But no matter how many times the question was raised, she only gave a little consideration before giving up on it. "I'm not like you Limbo. Something bad happens to you and you don't just sit around and mope about it. You go out there and try to fix it, no matter what it takes. I don't have that kind of drive."
"Maybe, but you've already taken the first step."
Samba stared, slightly confused. "What?"
"As a detective, the first step in any case is to identify the issue. After that, you search for any possible way to resolve the issue. And it doesn't happen overnight. Some cases take a long time to resolve. The Ghost of Baltimare might be my priority, but I've been on that case for a few years now. Looking for a solution to a problem can take an exorbitant amount of time. The trick is to keep persevering even if it looks hopeless. You've identified your own faults, now all you have to do is... well, something. I know that's an easier-said-than-done sorta thing, but that's just my two bits. Do with that what you will."
Samba stared down at the sidewalk again, but not so much in depression. She contemplated Limbo's words. It wasn't like she hadn't heard something similar before. Rhapsody had told her on multiple occasions that she needed to adjust her attitude and stop relying too heavily on other people to carry her through life. He tried to "fix" her, but she wasn't receptive, so he gave up and divorced her. Now, even if she tried to change, she had nopony to help her.
At least, not until now.
Samba stared at Limbo, but said nothing. The detective quirked an eyebrow at the oddly intense look in Samba's eyes.
It was like she'd said: Limbo had the drive that Samba lacked. And Limbo had just explained the correlation between the two of them. Samba didn't want to lean too hard on anypony—that wouldn't solve the underlying problem—but having somepony to aid her would still help her make the necessary advancements. As scared as she was about the person she saw herself as, there had to come a point where she looked deep within herself, suppressed any doubts or negativity, and just told herself to do something. Limbo had motivation, so she just needed to find her own. And she already knew what that would be: Pirouette. Of course, her daughter would be the reason she did anything in an attempt to improve herself. And if she was a bad influence on Pirouette, then maybe Samba just needed somepony like Limbo to be a good influence on her. She just needed to muster up the willpower to do anything to finally try and fix the problem.
And at that moment, something clicked inside Samba's brain, and she spoke without thinking.
"I want to be a detective."
Limbo drew back, her eyebrow threatening to detach itself from her forehead due to how high it was raised. "Huh?"
"Well, I mean, I wanna help you."
Limbo's expression changed none. "I repeat: Huh?"
She took a determined step toward Limbo, forcing the green mare to take one of her own, but backward. "I want to help you catch that guy who attacked me. I want to help you catch the Ghost."
Limbo blinked, still befuddled by the sudden and uncharacteristic determination in Samba's eyes. She looked almost manic, her pink eyes narrowed like focused needles. "I, uh... don't know if I want to keep fixating on this, but... Huh?"
"Please just say I can help!" Samba pleaded desperately. "It's taking every ounce of my willpower to keep insisting and if you say yes I'll feel obligated to help. Just do it before I backpedal!"
"Okay, fine! You can help! Geez..." Limbo told her, holding her hooves up defensively. "This is, uh... just kinda out of nowhere. I know I compared your problem to being a detective, but I didn't think you'd interpret it literally."
Having gotten her answer, Samba took a breath to compose herself. "I know, I'm sorry, but I had to ask while I felt the motivation."
"Ask? I felt like I was being held at knifepoint."
"Besides, Rhapsody had a point. I don't have a job right now, and I do kinda need money." She grinned awkwardly. "Sorry to twist your leg like that, but I'm kinda desperate right now if you couldn't tell."
Limbo sighed, scratching her ear uncomfortably. "No kidding. But, whatever, I get it. Obviously it's more complicated than just 'becoming' a detective because you suddenly have the motivation. I have police training and all that jazz. But I guess I could, I dunno... use an assistant or something. Webber's only so much help around the office." She twitched suddenly, a disgruntled grimace appearing on her face. "What did say about the bathtub?!"
An elated smile graced Samba's lips. "Thank you! I promise I'll put every ounce of effort into this!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm such a giver. Anyway, I guess meet me at my apartment tomorrow morning, eight o' clock, and we'll discuss it, 'kay?"
Limbo was caught off guard when Samba suddenly tackled her with a grateful hug. Samba didn't even think about the fact that she was hugging a corpse until she felt how cold Limbo's body was, but she didn't have time to comment about it since the sound of clattering plastic and metal interrupted the moment. The two glanced down to find Samba's box of stuff on the ground and spilled all over the sidewalk, though thankfully the lid remained securely on her lunch's container.
Samba glanced to Limbo with an embarrassed blush, another awkward grin appearing.
Limbo rolled her eye with an exasperated sigh. "Let me help with that..."
Limbo sat at her desk, tapping her hoof upon its oak surface as she idly perused the various newspaper articles laid out before her. They were all old articles related to cases that she was still looking into, mostly regarding the Ghost of Baltimare and the kidnappings, but she wasn't really reading them. Her remaining eye just lazily shifted between pictures and random paragraphs, glazed over and unfocused.
To clarify, she wasn't tired, just bored and impatient. Limbo couldn't get tired. Her brain ran on the necromancy spell keeping her alive, so it wasn't like she actually needed sleep, she just enjoyed sleeping. It was also the same reason why she drank coffee. The caffeine didn't actually do anything for her, but the addictive qualities of it still lingered from the days when her blood wasn't permanently curdled.
Limbo instinctively reached for her favorite coffee cup—one of her twenty favorite coffee cups—and took a sip. She immediately recoiled once the liquid hit her tongue, a disgusted grimace curling her lips. Her coffee had gone cold. There was almost nothing she despised more than cold coffee. Just having a cup of cooled brew sitting on her desk was like an affront on her person. There was no reason a cup of coffee should ever have to go cold in her presence, but here she was.
The detective glanced around, not spotting her eight-legged partner anywhere, so it looked like she'd have to get up and turn on the coffee pot herself if she wanted another cup. She dumped her cold coffee down the sink with a look on her face like she imagined was on the Ghost's face when they dumped her body in Horseshoe Bay, then switched on the coffee pot to wait for her second cup of the morning.
At that moment, Webber crawled out from the hall, entering the kitchen. Limbo cocked an eyebrow at him. "Oh, there you are. What, you sleep in this morning?"
Webber raised his front legs, baring his chelicerae aggressively.
"Geez, why are you such a grouch?" Limbo grumbled at his attitude. It was only then that she remembered exactly why, and offered an awkward and apologetic smile. "Oh, crap, right. Heh, sorry, bud. I kinda forgot. But, hey, congrats. Not many spiders can brag about managing to crawl their way out of a bathtub. You're like a super spider."
Webber just glared at her with his eight beady eyes, then crawled up onto the kitchen counter, glancing between the coffee pot and Limbo.
Limbo narrowed her eyes in paranoia. "I, uh... I'll handle it, thanks."
Webber didn't budge. Limbo was going to have to keep an eye on the coffee pot until it was ready to make sure the surly spider didn't tamper with it.
There was a loud and enthusiastic knock on the door suddenly, startling Limbo. She had a feeling she knew who that was, but wasn't expecting the knock to be so aggressive. She was about to go answer it, but shot a warning glare at Webber first. "Don't touch my coffee."
Limbo unlocked the door, but the moment she turned the handle, the door flung inwards, taking Limbo's hoof with it. Literally.
It was Samba that had arrived, trotting inside with an exaggerated gait and a wide, chipper grin. "Okay! I'm ready to start the day! Let's buckle down and solve some crimes!"
Limbo cast her a bemused stare, and the over-enthusiastic dancer's attention was drawn to the green hoof dangling from the door handle, and torn flesh and exposed bone of Limbo's right leg.
Samba grinned nervously. "Oh, uh, whoops. My bad."
Limbo rolled her eye and casually reattached the severed hoof. "Don't worry about it," she said somewhat disingenuously. "I'm just lucky it was you and not somepony else."
"How has nopony found out yet if you can be dismembered so easily? I mean, don't you fight ne'er-do-wells on a regular basis? Has a limb never come off in the middle of a tussle?"
Limbo stared weirdly at her. "'Ne'er-do-well'? 'Tussle'? Who's teaching you that outdated lingo?"
Samba shuffled her hooves awkwardly. "I, uh... might've rented a couple of those 'noir films' last night to brush up for today. Besides, weren't you the one who used that 'lingo' to hint at your profession the other night?"
"Those are movies, Samba. They aren't indicative of how things play out in real life."
"Says the mare who got herself decapitated trying to parkour after a perp."
Limbo didn't know whether to laugh or groan at her updated vocabulary, but opted to ignore it. "Anyway, to answer your question, I'm usually a lot more careful during serious confrontations. And I have some hoof-to-hoof combat training. You caught me off guard, that's all."
Samba shrugged, reapplying her eager grin. "Well, whatever, I just wanna get this show on the road!" She traipsed around the apartment like a young puppy exploring its new home, her sights eventually landing on Webber sitting on the kitchen counter. Samba hesitated for a moment, swallowing her apprehension before putting on a very forced grin. "Good morning, Webber!"
The spider just stared at her for a moment. He briefly turned to Limbo, who just gave him a shrug. Webber turned back to Samba momentarily, shimmying back a smidge in the face of her unnervingly optimistic smile. He then turned his back to her to return to monitoring the coffee pot and put some distance between the two of them.
"So, what's first on the agenda?" Samba asked eagerly, looking over the many newspapers laid out on Limbo's desk.
"You feeling okay?" Limbo asked with a suspicious gaze.
"Yeah, great!" she answered with perhaps more enthusiasm than necessary. "I'm pumped up to start my first day as your assistant!"
Limbo glanced toward the clock on the wall. "Okay, but you're an hour late."
Samba's grin disappeared as she, too, looked at the clock, which read ten after nine. "Uh, I thought you said nine."
"I said eight. And even if it was nine, that'd still make you ten minutes late."
"Oh. Sorry, I'm not used to getting up this early in general." Samba put on her peppy smile once more. "But I'm still rarin' to go! Just give me the low down!"
"Okay, seriously, what's gotten into you?" asked Limbo with a quirked brow. "I find it hard to believe that you're this invigorated in the morning."
Samba's façade faltered under Limbo's scrutiny. She let out a sigh, her demeanor falling more in line with how Limbo had come to recognize her: weary and subdued. "Sorry... The whole point of this was to try and be more motivated. I figured if I acted more like you, it might help me change my attitude."
"Alright... First of all, that's how you think I act? Second, and I'm no expert or anything, but I doubt the changes you're looking for are going to happen that quickly."
Samba gently twirled her mane with her hoof. "Yeah, yeah, I know... I just figured I'd give it a shot. Optimism isn't something that comes naturally to me much anymore."
Limbo could already see Samba starting to sink back into self-loathing. It was probably for the best to cut her some slack and try to lift the mood before storm clouds started forming in her apartment. "Tell you what: I'll overlook the fact you came in late this once. Being honest, I'm looking forward to working with somepony again. It might be fun." She wandered over to the kitchen. "Want some coffee?"
"Uh, I don't really like coffee."
Limbo stared silently at her. "Don't... Like... Coffee...?"
Samba shrugged. "It's too bitter. Even the smell in here is kinda off-putting if I'm being honest. No offense."
Limbo held a hoof to her chest, closing her eye and taking a long, deep breath. "Okay... Can I get you anything else, then?" she asked through clenched teeth.
"A cup of tea would be nice."
Limbo's eye twitched. "I'm sorry, I don't think this is going to work out."
"Huh?"
The zombie detective shook her head, blinking as though she had just snapped from a trance. "Oh, uh, sorry about that. Brain went on autopilot for a second there. But in all fairness, did you take me for the sort of person who has the stuff to make tea?"
"Uh, okay, how about just a glass of water, then?"
"I think I can manage that."
Limbo opened the cupboard to retrieve a cup. Samba noticed that there appeared to be no clear glasses at all. The only cups she could see were various coffee mugs. Limbo filled one with water from the tap and passed it to her guest before pouring some coffee for herself. Samba eyed the mug she'd been given. It felt a little strange to drink water from a mug, let alone one that read "World's Bestest Grandpa" on the side.
"So, in all seriousness," Samba started again, "what exactly am I going to be doing to help you?"
Limbo took a sip of her coffee and walked over to her desk as she thought it over. "Obviously, as you lack proper training, dealing with actual criminals might not be a good idea. You could get hurt." She glanced around at the newspapers and documents scattered all over the place in her apartment. "How are your organizational skills?"
"It took me ten minutes to find my mascara this morning, if that answers your question."
"Oookaaay..."
Samba watched as Limbo tapped her chin, trying to think of something for her to do. However, Samba didn't let her think too long, interjecting with a defeated sigh. "Alright, I get it. This was a bad idea. It was just an impulse during an emotional moment. You don't have to put yourself out for my sake, Limbo."
"No, no, hang on!" Limbo insisted. "I'm sure I can figure something out."
Samba waited quietly, but didn't look confident. She knew she didn't have any discernible skills that would be useful to a detective, but she felt like this was her only chance to do something meaningful with her life. She couldn't be sure if it would give her the confidence or motivation to be a good wife and mother, but it couldn't hurt. But what exactly could she do?
On the other side of the coin, Limbo wanted to do something for this mare who was willing to keep her secret, as well as make up for allowing her attacker to escape. She honestly felt like the future of Samba's family life hinged on whether or not she could help, and if there was anything she could do to help mend her relationship with her ex-husband, she wanted to try.
While scanning the apartment for any ideas, Limbo's sight eventually landed on the corkboard where her leads about the Ghost of Baltimare were pinned up. She stared at it for a few moments, humming in thought. While the case as a whole was perhaps a little too dangerous for somepony like Samba, that didn't mean she couldn't help. After all, the Ghost was one of the things Samba insisted on helping with yesterday. She couldn't be sure how much Samba would be able to help, but maybe she could at least tag along and get a feel for things.
"Okay, I think I've got something."
Samba's ears perked up.
"There's something I was planning on investigating today regarding the Ghost case, so maybe you can come with."
"Really? You don't think it'll be dangerous?"
"Nah, it's just gathering information. There was another kidnapping a few days ago, but I'd rather let the B.P.D. get their work done with it first before I move in. Mostly so I don't have to put up with their shenanigans, but it's not like they're going to bother doing anything with the info they gather from their investigations anyway," Limbo explained with a vindictive huff.
"So I'm just following you around?"
"Pretty much. You've gotta get a feel for investigating before you start getting directly involved. You'll just be my shadow for the time being, taking mental notes and whatnot. That cool?"
Maybe it wasn't exactly what Samba was hoping for, but she also didn't want to get in over her head. She hadn't really considered how dangerous it was being a detective until now, so maybe this was the best approach. So, Samba managed an agreeable smile at the suggestion. "Okay, that sounds doable."
"Great. But, if you're gonna accompany me on this case..." Limbo gestured to the corkboard. "You're gonna need a briefing."
Samba walked up to the board. "Okay, but you told me about the case the other night."
"I just gave you the bare minimum of information. It's clearly more complicated than that. Being a detective is about noticing patterns and trends." Limbo pointed to the various photos of the kidnap victims. "Do you see any patterns here?"
"Huh? You're quizzing me already?" Samba said nervously.
"Just answer the question. Take your time."
Samba gulped. She never did like pop quizzes. She didn't fancy herself somepony who performed well under pressure. Regardless, she tried her best.
There didn't appear to be any pattern to where the photos were pinned against the map of Baltimare—none that she could see anyway. But she did notice a common denominator in the photos themselves. "Uh, maybe it's a coincidence, but it looks like all the victims are unicorns."
Limbo grinned proudly. "Hey, you got it!"
Samba blinked. "Huh? I-I did?"
"Yup, that's what I was hoping you'd notice. See, that's one of the main points of my investigation, and what I ultimately believe will lead to me cracking the case."
"You think the Ghost is specifically targeting unicorns?"
"Not just any unicorns either. See, I've looked into each of these disappearances thoroughly, speaking with their friends and family, figuring out what they do for a living, where they were last seen. And I've found some connecting threads. Each of the victims are talented with magic to some degree, more so than your average unicorn. And each of them specialize in a different, though uncommon spell."
Limbo pointed to a photo of a young stallion, maybe twenty years old. "This guy knew a teleportation spell, though hadn't quite perfected it. According to his family, he could teleport short distances, like, maybe a couple dozen feet." She then pointed to a photo of a middle-aged mare. "This woman was a librarian, and she could create a duplicate of herself that she apparently used to organize the library she worked at more efficiently. And, of course, I mentioned my best friend Poe. Necromancy is not only uncommon and difficult to learn, but it's outright illegal."
"So, they were all magical prodigies, then? Well, if anything, that rules me out as potential target, so that's a relief," Samba commented.
"'Prodigy' might not be the best word," Limbo corrected. "They were talented, yes, but they weren't really remarkable ponies in any other sense. Those spells might be rare for even some skilled unicorn scholars to pull off, but none of the people shown here did anything noteworthy. They never attended Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, or did anything meaningful with their magic. They're just normal, run-of-the-mill citizens who happen to know one interesting spell."
"What does that tell us, then? What significance does that have?"
"Well, this is just a personal theory of mine, but it's the assumption I've been running on for a while. I think this points to the Ghost being a unicorn, and they're kidnapping these ponies in order to learn those spells for themselves."
"Really? So, they're trying to turn themselves into some kind of powerful sorcerer or something?"
"Again, that's just my speculation, but it's what makes the most sense given the evidence."
"Okay, so why did they kidnap Poe?"
Limbo was confused by the question. "What do you mean? Like I said, the necromancy spell."
"Yeah, but if you and Poe are the only ones who knew you were a zombie, how would the Ghost know that she knew that spell?"
Limbo scratched her chin. "Huh. That is a good question. But considering it was the Ghost who killed me in the first place, they've probably seen me out and about since then and put two and two together."
"But you'd think that would put a huge target on your back, right?" Samba presumed.
"Maybe they just haven't figured out how to kill a zombie. Movies would suggest destroying the brain, but this ain't a movie, so maybe they want to ensure they can kill me again before making a move. And I know Poe is too stubborn to tell them it is my brain."
"That seems like a lot of assumptions," Samba commented uneasily. "If I were in your position, I'd be super paranoid."
Limbo flicked a hoof nonchalantly. "I've got better things to worry about that protecting my own rotten hide. I can't sit around looking over my shoulder every ten minutes when I've got people to save and a criminal to apprehend."
Samba brushed a hoof through her mane, her eyes shifting to the floor dejectedly. "That just exemplifies the difference between you and me. I'm too pathetic to even properly raise a kid, and you're putting your all into saving a bunch of strangers without any regard for your own life."
"I don't have a life left to care about," Limbo corrected with uncharacteristic seriousness. "Like I told you the other night, I only need to hold on until I save Poe and the others. After that, I don't care what happens to me because I'm already dead. The only reason for me to keep going would be to not waste Poe's sacrifice."
Samba just stared silently. That was a surprisingly nihilistic outlook for somepony she'd taken as very optimistic. Maybe the two of them weren't as different as she first thought, but Samba still wouldn't exactly consider herself a martyr. Then again, if she were in Limbo's horseshoes, maybe she wouldn't care about her own well being either. Still, even a technically lifeless corpse like Limbo had more drive than she did. If even an iota of that could rub off on Samba, it would be a step towards her own comparatively meager goal of simply making herself a slightly better person.
"I can tell how important this case is to you," Samba said sympathetically. "I don't have any personal stakes in this, but maybe just helping out a friend will be satisfying enough." She took a deep breath, attempting to wear a determined smile without it looking forced. "So I'm gonna try my best to help in any way I can knowing how urgent this case is."
Limbo grinned back at her confidence. "Good to know. And it's even more urgent considering the mayoral election is coming up."
Samba cocked a puzzled eyebrow. "The election? What does that have to do with the Ghost?"
"The Ghost has no connection to the election, but the election is related to the case."
That only proved to confuse Samba further. "Is this some kind of riddle? If it is, I might need a minute to think about it."
Limbo shook her head. "See, the kidnappings started shortly after Mayor Highstrung was elected. Not a great look for Baltimare's new mayor to have this case hanging over his head since he made it into office. He's been desperate to have the case solved before the reelection, which is the only reason why the B.P.D. are even putting as much effort into it as they are. So this case isn't just a personal project for me, I'm actually under the direct employ of the mayor to look into it, although I was sure to tell him that he shouldn't get his hopes up that it'll be solved before the election."
"That's cool. I bet the mayor'll pay pretty handsomely if you do though."
"Maybe, but money doesn't mean a lot to me anymore. It pretty much just pays the rent and fuels my coffee addiction, and the only reason I leave the heat on in the apartment is for Webber's sake. But, hey, I need to pay you now too, so that might give me some extra incentive to get this solved lickety-split."
"No complaints here. So, you said there was something you were looking to investigate today, right? What was that exactly?"
"Well, on topic, we're heading over to town hall. I mentioned there was another kidnapping recently, so I need to head over there to check the citizen records for information on the victim."
"I've never been to town hall. I don't really pay attention to politics."
"Me neither, unless it's relevant to one of my cases. Anyway, we should head over there now. I'll introduce you to the mayor." Limbo downed the rest of her coffee, grabbed a wallet off her desk that she strapped to her leg, then headed to the kitchen to drop her and Samba's mugs in the sink. She gestured to the spider still sitting on the counter. "Come on, Webber, we're heading out."
Samba watched as Webber crawled onto Limbo's leg and up her neck. And she wished she hadn't been looking when Limbo lifted her eyepatch for Webber to wriggle into the empty eye socket.
Limbo headed for the door. "Let's go, Samba." She hesitated when she noticed how pale Samba's face had gotten. "You okay?"
"Uh, yeah..." she answered weakly, holding a hoof to her mouth. "Can I just, uh... use your bathroom first?"
***** ***** *****
Samba had never had much reason to go to the part of the city where town hall was located. Everything she needed was accessible downtown, and she only ever really went uptown to visit Rhapsody and Pirouette. So when she and Limbo arrived at town hall, Samba gazed at the surprisingly posh-looking building.
A short but wide set of stone steps lead up to the building itself, the structure made of dark, well-varnished mahogany. "Official" certainly would have been a word Samba used to describe it. It stuck out like a sore hoof in a city full of concrete, but perhaps that was the intent, or maybe town hall was just one of the older buildings in Baltimare.
Limbo lead Samba up the stairs and into the large building. The halls inside were even fancier than the exterior. With the walls painted royal blue, the plush, red carpet, and several oil paintings depicting Baltimare's past mayors and noteworthy citizens, Samba almost felt like she had just entered a king's castle rather than simply the mayor's office.
Thankfully, they didn't have to navigate the labyrinthian halls of the building for long, as Limbo knew exactly where to go, which was directly to the office of the mayor. She approached a thick, mahogany door and went right inside, Samba following closely behind. The room inside wasn't particularly large, and appeared to be a waiting room. It only possessed a couple of comfy chairs, a reception desk, and some filing cabinets. However, the walls could hardly be called walls. Instead they were surrounded by nothing but bookshelves, making the relatively small room look like a miniature library. On the back wall, to the right of the desk, was another door with a nameplate on it reading, "Mayor Highstrung." It didn't take a genius to determine that the mayor's actual office was beyond that door.
However, at present, nopony seemed to be present in the reception room. Samba looked around, but could only see books, books, and more books. Although, some papers had been left out on the desk, indicting that somepony had been there recently.
"Soooo... Do we just wait?" Samba inquired, unsure of the etiquette required.
"Gust, you here?" Limbo called.
Shortly after Limbo beckoned, Samba could hear somepony grumbling, as though straining themselves. After a moment, a figure fluttered up from behind the desk. It was a breezie: a miniscule, pony-like creature with antennae and broad wings like a butterfly, but translucent like very thin fabric. This particular breezie was female with a pale blue body, and voluminous, crimson mane and tail compared to the creature's diminutive size. She was flapping her glassy wings rather rigorously in order to fly up onto the desk while also carrying a short pencil. She dropped the pencil on the desk, barely even having to move her wings to stay airborne now without the extra weight, just showing how light breezies actually were.
The breezie let out a short huff, wiping the sweat from her forehead after her laborious task. "Sorry, I dropped my pencil," she said, her voice very high-pitched and with a very thick breezish accent. She gracefully touched down onto the desk, putting on a welcoming grin. "Good morning, Limbo."
"Morning," Limbo greeted back.
The breezie's attention shifted to the other mare in the room. "Is this one of your clients?"
"Technically, yes. But she's also acting as my assistant for the time being. Her name's Samba. Samba, this Bubble Gust, the mayor's secretary."
"Nice to meet you," Samba said with a friendly smile. She instinctively extended her hoof to shake with Bubble Gust, but the breezie just stared, the unicorn's hoof alone being bigger than Bubble Gust's entire body. Samba retracted her hoof, blushing with embarrassment. "Uh, sorry. I-I've never met a breezie before. H-How do we do introductions?"
"We say hi," Bubble Gust answered matter-of-factly.
"Oh. Hi."
"Hello."
"Is Mayor Highstrung in?" asked Limbo.
Gust rolled her eyes. "He is late this morning," she groaned. "Honestly, sometimes I wonder how that man became mayor in the first place."
"Well, he's been pretty stressed about the election lately, right? Maybe cut him some slack," Limbo suggested.
"Punctuality is the cornerstone of success, Detective," Gust huffed.
Limbo cast a sidelong glance at Samba.
The unicorn glanced around in confusion. "What?"
"Anyway, you know why I'm here, Gust," said Limbo. "I need information on Sizzle Conifer."
Bubble Gust nodded. "Ya, of course. One moment."
"Is that the name of the latest kidnapping victim?" Samba asked.
"Yup. Haven't been able to get any info other than the name," Limbo admitted. "The kidnapping hasn't even been made public yet, so aside from some speculative guesses, I'm mostly in the dark myself right now."
"Okay, so what are we hoping to get from this?"
"Anything that could be useful. Their job, address, relatives. We'll probably head out to locate the victim's family for more info after this."
"Alright."
Samba turned back to Bubble Gust. The breezie had pulled open one of the filing cabinets' drawers. There were countless folders and papers inside. Bubble Gust must have been intimately familiar with how they were organized to be able to locate the correct document so quickly, but Samba noticed that she struggled to pull the folder out from the tightly-packed drawer, only managing to get it out about an inch or so.
Samba leaned forward. "Um... Do you need any he—"
Limbo nudged her to cut her off, giving her a disapproving head shake. "Let her handle it," she whispered. "She can get kinda defensive if people patronize her just because she's small."
"I can hear you," the breezie interrupted.
Limbo cleared her throat awkwardly, but Bubble Gust just kept at her task.
Samba watched in silence as Bubble Gust fluttered up to the top of the filing cabinet. There appeared to be some sort of pulley system installed, made of small sticks, a spool, and some string. A plastic hook was tied to the end of the string, which Gust used to hook into a hole that had been punched into the folder she pulled out; all the other folders had similar holes for the same purpose. She then used a makeshift crank in the side of the spool to draw the string back and yank the folder out of the drawer and onto the top of the cabinet where she had full access to its contents.
"Wow, that's pretty impressive," Samba uttered quietly, in awe of the diminutive secretary's resourcefulness.
"Yeah, Bubble Gust is a wonder alright. In all honesty, the mayor wouldn't be where he is without her. She's practically the one running this place. Highstrung is kind of a quivering mess of nerves on his own."
"Tell me about it," Bubble Gust said with a groan as she returned to the desk with several pieces of paper. "I have been planning everything for the election: writing his speech, organizing meetings, even picking out which tie he should wear, like I am his mother. I swear, this city is being run by wimpy teenager."
At that moment, a pair of unicorn stallions entered the room. The first—his coat a buttery yellow, mane short, light brown, and frazzled, and a cutie mark depicting a rolled up scroll with a red ribbon that appeared to be tied a little too tightly—was the one who had opened the door. Or rather, he barged in, stumbling over his own hooves and nearly falling over in his haste. He managed to keep a grip on the cinnamon roll and paper cup of coffee held in his pale pink magic, though. The second stallion walked in casually behind him, his coat a light blue, while his mane and tail were thick, full-bodied and pure white with a single thin strip of red running down its length. His cutie mark appeared to be a maple leaf that had been cut out of a sheet of lined paper. Compared to the somewhat portly, yellow stallion, the blue unicorn's figure was much more slender and even somewhat effeminate. He also carried a cinnamon bun and coffee cup within his silver aura, munching on the pastry nonchalantly as his companion stumbled over to the desk.
Bubble Gust gave the yellow stallion a deadpan glare. "Nice of you to join me this morning, Mister Mayor," she sneered sarcastically.
"M-My apologies, Gust," he sniveled profusely. "My alarm clock never went off, my tie got caught in the door on the way out and nearly choked me, and we had to wait ten minutes for the bakery to finish a fresh batch of cinnamon buns."
Bubble Gust eyed up the pastry with a grimace. "What did I tell you about overloading on sweets? Do you think any of your supporters are going to be impressed that their mayor has gained twenty pounds since he was elected?" She gently slapped the floating bun, which was enough to prompt the whiny mayor to drop it on the desk. "I will have Leaf fetch you a bagel for your breakfast."
The mayor frowned, eyeing up the pastry longingly, but not having the guts to protest. "Of course... I'm sorry."
With that out of the way, Limbo saw her opportunity to interject. "Good morning, Mister Mayor."
Mayor Highstrung perked up a little upon realizing that Limbo was there, though not enough to manage a smile back. "Oh, Detective, you're here as well. Good, good. Have you received everything you need?"
Bubble Gust stomped a tiny hoof on the papers laid out on the desk. "I have them here. Some of us are on the ball this morning."
The mayor tugged on his gaudy, plaid necktie, clearing his throat awkwardly under his secretary's reprimanding tone. "Er, yes, of course."
"Oh, by the way..." Limbo gestured to Samba. "This is Samba. She's gonna be helping me on the case, so you'll probably be seeing more of her."
"Erm, yes, lovely to meet you," he greeted hurriedly. "But I'm afraid I've little time for pleasantries. I, uh..." He briefly looked to Bubble Gust, who was giving him the stink eye. "I have work that demands my attention, so I'll leave you to your investigation. If you need anything further, ask Leaf." He was about to slip through the door to his office, but paused, reaching back stealthily for the cinnamon bun on the desk when he thought Gust wasn't looking. However, he was quick to receive a disapproving slap, no doubt feeling similar to a mosquito bite, but getting the point across regardless, and he feebly slinked away into his office like a scorned puppy.
Samba stared at the door for a few moments. "He seems..."
"I was going to say 'nice,' but that was just to be polite."
"I have a full list of words that could describe him, and none of them are appropriate traits for a person of his political standing."
"Guess he's just lucky to have had you as a campaign manager," Limbo commented. "I still don't get why you didn't run for mayor instead."
"Too much pressure. I operate better when I am not in the spotlight. I would rather work behind the scenes, even if it means that big baby has to be the face of this city." Gust touched down next to the abandoned cinnamon roll. "Well, at least he was kind enough to bring me breakfast. And lunch. And dessert. And an evening snack. And breakfast tomorrow if it is not too stale." She chomped a mouthful of the pastry, which to anypony else would have been less than a nibble seeing as the thing was likely five times her body weight.
"Sounds like he doesn't get much respect around here," Samba inferred.
"Hey, as long as the city doesn't burn down, who cares?" said Limbo with a shrug. "Things are running just fine. It's just the election that's got tensions running a little high right now."
"Ya, which means I am very busy myself," Gust stated, lifting up her pencil with a labored grunt like it was a log from a fallen tree. "So, like the mayor said, if you need anything else, ask Leaf. I am indisposed right now."
Samba tilted her head curiously. "Who is this Leaf anyway?"
"'Sup."
Samba turned around to the other stallion that had come in with the mayor, idly chewing his own breakfast. "Oh, hi."
The light blue unicorn offered his hoof to Samba. "Loose Leaf. A pleasure. Limbo said your name was Samba, right?"
Samba nodded with an amicable smile as she shook his hoof. "Mm-hm. It's nice to meet you, Loose Leaf."
"Just Leaf is fine."
"What do you do around here?" Samba asked with interest.
"He is our handsome errand boy," Gust chimed in with a playful bat of her eyelashes, doing away with any frustration that her boss had caused.
Leaf rubbed his neck awkwardly, blushing slightly. "Uh, yeah, what she said. I'm basically town hall's gopher, doing whatever odd jobs they need me to do while Gust and Mayor Highstrung handle the important stuff. I'm just here if anypony needs me, nothing more."
Limbo smirked knowingly. "Look at this guy, acting like he's just some random shmuck." She nudged Samba. "Leaf is actually the younger brother of Baltimare's own Mango Career."
"Come on, Limbo, did you have to tell her that?" Leaf groaned, his blush deepening.
Samba stared at the stallion incredulously. "What? Really? Mango Career? As in, inventor of the modern spellphone. That Mango Career?!"
"Well, technically he didn't invent it. His company just owns the intellectual, manufacturing, and distribution rights," Leaf corrected.
"Wow. I can't believe you're his brother," Samba uttered in awe. "You seem so... humble."
"Well, hey, not all multi-millionaires are bit-pinching narcissists. Mango does a lot of charity work with his money. But as much as I respect him, I'd like to differentiate myself from him if at all possible. I don't exactly want to simply be known as 'Mango Career's little brother' my whole life. I'll carve my own path and make a name for myself without his money to act as a safety net."
Samba observed the somewhat indignant look that had come across his face. "Sounds like this topic has come up before."
"More often than I'd like," he admitted with a sigh. "It's hard to introduce myself to somepony new without his name coming up and the topic suddenly shifting to people just asking questions about him." Leaf shot a disgruntled glower at Limbo, who just whistled innocently. He shook his head, offering another affable smile to Samba. "So, uh... Can we start over?" He once again extended a hoof. "It's nice to meet you, Samba."
"You too," she greeted back once more.
Leaf stared at her for a moment, his blush returning. "So, um... Maybe this is a little out of the blue, but I can't help but notice how beautiful you are, so I was just wondering..."
Now it was Samba's turn to blush as she caught onto what he was getting at. Her ears folded back apologetically. "Oh, uh, sorry. I'm... not exactly looking for a relationship. No offense, it's just that things are a little... complicated right now."
"That's fine, that's fine, I get it," Leaf breathed, a little disappointed, but managing to maintain his smile. He chuckled awkwardly. "So, much for starting over. That was probably an even worse start."
"I'm not judging you or anything," Samba assured him. "I'm flattered, really, but I've got a lot of things on my mind that would make a relationship kinda difficult."
"That's fair. I wasn't very smooth there anyway. I never really had much 'game.'"
"Oh, you have plenty of game, honey," Bubble Gust cooed from her desk.
"Uh, thanks..."
"If you ask me, you're dodging a bullet," Limbo interjected with a smirk. "I know I'd never be caught dead with somepony who drinks..." She shuddered in disgust, though clearly exaggerated. "...iced coffee. Bleugh."
Leaf challenged her smirk with one of his own. "Hey, don't get mad just because I have a more discerning palate. It wouldn't hurt to broaden your horizons with a little flavor." He goaded her further with a loud slurp of his iced coffee.
"Bitter is a flavor. The best flavor. And I'd rather burn my taste buds off with a scalding, black brew than put ice in my coffee. That's blasphemy in my opinion."
Samba glanced between the two uncomfortably as they exchanged verbal blows. "Do you guys usually argue like this?"
Leaf quirked an eyebrow. "Who's arguing?"
"Yeah, this is banter," Limbo added. "Sometimes it's just fun to fight about something trivial. Builds character."
"Oh, okay. Sorry, I guess I still don't know you two very well yet," Samba apologized with a slightly embarrassed giggle.
Leaf shrugged, taking another sip of coffee. "We'll have plenty of time to get to know each other, I'm sure. And don't worry, I don't plan on hitting on you anymore. I know how to take a hint," he laughed.
"Good to know," said Samba with a smile. However, her expression became a little more curious, yet apologetic. "Uh, and I know you said you don't want to talk about your brother, but I have another question."
He waved her concern off dismissively. "That's fine, go ahead."
"I read in the paper that Mango Career is running for mayor of Baltimare. Is that true?"
"Ya, and it is all the more reason why Mayor Highstrung is so... well, high strung," answered Bubble Gust.
"Yeah, the election is basically a foregone conclusion at this point," Limbo stated. "Career's already got a huge reputation and a ton of people who adore him. He's gonna get a butt load of votes regardless of his political stance. I'm not sure even somecreature as savvy as Bubble Gust can organize a campaign that can withstand a juggernaut like that."
"But I am going to try my darnedest. It might be an uphill battle, but I am going down swinging," Gust proclaimed valiantly.
"Okay, but that's not exactly what I was getting at," Samba corrected, looking back to Leaf. "Isn't it, like, a conflict of interest for you to be working here, Leaf? You know, considering you're working for the opposition."
Leaf rolled his eyes. "Look, I've got no stakes in this. I'm not involved in Mango's campaign, nor do I have any real interest in politics. A job's a job, and that's all this is. If he wants to pile more stuff on his already overflowing plate, he'll have to suffer the cramps that follow."
"Oh, well, that's fair, I guess. Sorry if it sounded like I was being presumptuous."
"Don't worry about it." Leaf glanced over to Limbo, who was looking over the papers Bubble Gust had laid out for her. "Anyway, I'm sure you and Limbo have more important stuff to do right now, so you shouldn't waste your time with me. I've got errands to run myself. Bagels to purchase and all that," he said as he turned back to the door to head out.
"Alright, we'll talk to you later, then," Samba bid him with a friendly wave. Once he was gone, she turned to Limbo. "You have everything you need, Limbo?"
Limbo's head jerked up suddenly. "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Just let me write down this address."
Samba cocked an eyebrow. Limbo looked a little confused about something.
"And your permit," Bubble Gust added, sliding a small piece of paper with the mayor's signature on it.
Limbo passed the permit and a small scrap of paper with the address on it to Samba for her to tuck into her spellphone sleeve. "C'mon, let's go."
Samba was a bit caught off guard by how brusquely Limbo brushed by, like she was distracted and in a hurry. She didn't even bother to say good bye to Bubble Gust, but Samba did so in her place, bidding the breezie goodbye before making to catch up to Limbo.
Outside town hall, Limbo had already made it a decent distance down the sidewalk, forcing Samba to pick up the pace. Once she was alongside the undead mare, she once again noticed the serious and contemplative expression on her face. Maybe she was just in "detective mode" now; with a lead to go off of, perhaps she was just focused on the task at hoof. Samba had noticed how driven Limbo tended to act and sound when discussing the Ghost case. Still, she was her partner for the time being, so Samba felt like she needed to be in the loop.
"So, where are we headed?" the unicorn asked, pulling out the scrap of paper with the address on it.
"Sizzle Conifer's parents' place."
"Okay." Again, Samba couldn't help but notice her to-the-point tone, speaking quickly and concisely. Unfortunately, their legs were moving just as quickly as Limbo's words. "Uh, is there a big rush? Cuz my legs are already getting worn out."
Limbo finally tore her eyes away from their path, slowing down and offering an apologetic look to her companion. "Oh, sorry. I was just a little hyper-focused there. Although, to be fair, legwork is a big part of being a detective. You gotta beef up those hamstrings if you wanna chase the truth."
"Easy for you to say. You don't need oxygen anymore," Samba said with a quiet puff as she slowed to a more reasonable pace. "What's the deal anyway? You seem... perturbed about something."
Limbo scratched her head. "Yeah, it's just... Sizzle Conifer is a kirin apparently."
"Is that weird?"
"Well, you managed to figure out yourself that all the Ghost's victims were unicorns, didn't you? I was operating on the assumption that they were after their spells."
"So? Kirins can use magic too, right?"
"But their magic is different than that of unicorns, from my understanding."
"I... don't think that really matters, does it? I'm pretty sure they can learn the same spells we can."
Limbo took a breath to level her head. "Okay, okay, you're probably right. My bad. I guess I just got a little concerned when it looked like the pattern might have been broken. I've been on this case so long now that I might actually panic if my leads turn out to be wrong."
"About that. I have a question I was meaning to ask earlier."
Limbo arched an eyebrow curiously. "Shoot."
"If the kidnapper just wants all these advanced spells, why not go after somepony like Princess Twilight?"
"Are you kidding?" Limbo chuckled. "First of all, Princess Twilight is one of the most powerful ponies in the world. Kidnapping her, or even the former princesses, is something only Equestria's greatest threats could accomplish. Second, like I mentioned earlier, all of the victims so far are pretty average, unremarkable people, save for the spells they know. My guess is that the Ghost is targeting them specifically because nopony is really going to notice that they're missing. If Princess Twilight suddenly vanished, every police precinct in the world would be looking for her, not to mention royal guards, The Wonderbolts, the whole kit and kaboodle. Equestria would declare a state of emergency. This is the easiest way for the Ghost to stay under the radar, relatively speaking. Even the B.P.D. doesn't really care about those people and are only putting as much effort in it as they are because it's simply their job."
"I'm really starting to feel like you're exaggerating about the police here. There's no way they can be that bad."
Limbo breathed a disgruntled huff through her nostrils. "Okay, maybe I'm just a teensy bit sour, but it was their attitude that made me resign. I mean, first thing I heard when I was screaming over my eye was, 'You okay?' followed by the casual slurping of soda."
"So what are we hoping to learn from Sizzle Conifer's parents?" Samba asked, mostly looking to change the subject.
"Mostly basic information. According to the citizen records, Mr. Conifer is a senior in high school and therefore lived with his parents and doesn't have a job. So we're just looking for anything else that might give us some clues. Where he was last seen, if they knew where he was or was headed at the time of his disappearance, and obviously if he knew any noteworthy spells."
"Is there any possibility that he was kidnapped by somepony other than the Ghost? Or if he just, like, disappeared some other way, like fell in the harbor, or ran away from home, or something?"
"Those possibilities always exist, yes. There have been a few other kidnappings since the Ghost starting spiriting people away, but they were never as thorough as the Ghost and tended to leave evidence behind and got caught pretty quick. Any serial kidnapper, murder, or what have you is gonna inspire copycats, but the information we get from his parents is gonna help us figure that stuff out."
"Okay, I think I'm starting to get the picture now."
Limbo turned to Samba, a little bit of genuine confidence on the unicorn's face. She smiled encouragingly. "Good. But just remember that you're only my assistant. Don't try and get in over your head or anything."
"I, uh... don't think I'd have the guts to chase down a criminal, in all honesty," she chuckled uneasily. "I was terrified just being a victim. Willingly going after somepony who wanted to hurt me is a little out of my comfort zone."
***** ***** *****
After a half an hour or so of walking, Limbo and Samba had arrived at a cul de sac in the suburbs at the north end of the city. Samba hadn't spent much time outside the hustle and bustle of the inner city, so she wasn't really accustomed to having such a clear view of the skyline or all of the foliage that was around; she usually only witnessed such sights when she visited the park, but the environment surrounding the suburbs felt more natural. On top of that, the buildings were much more modest, having wooden construction as opposed to the concrete and steel she was used to, and only two stories on average. Samba always felt like it'd be nice to live in a quaint little place like this with her family, but they never really had a enough money to comfortably afford a house, and that was certainly out of the question now that she was on her own.
Limbo glanced around at the houses surrounding them within the cul de sac. "Which one is it, Samba?"
The unicorn pulled out the address and compared it to their current location. They were on the correct street, she just needed to find the right house. She pointed to one on the right side. "There. One-O-six."
Limbo wasted no time walking up onto the spacious patio and knocking on the door. She turned to Samba briefly. "Okay, since you're new to this, you let me do the talking. You can just sit back and watch a professional at work. Oh, hand me that permit."
Samba did as she requested, passing the paper with Mayor Highstrung's signature to her, and they waited.
After a few moments, the door eventually opened. Behind it was a female kirin, her coat a dark, ashy grey. Like all kirin, her mane—a bright blue in color—wrapped around to her chest, and the distinct, reptilian scales on the center of her face and covering her back were a creamy white color. She greeted the two strangers on her patio with a curious, yet affable smile. "Hello. May I help you?"
"Good morning, Miss. Is this the residence of Sizzle Conifer?" Limbo inquired with a professional tone.
The kirin's eyes widened a little. "Oh, are you with the police?"
"Better." Limbo removed the wallet strapped to her leg, opening it to show the mare her badge, then passing her the permit. "I'm Limbo, private investigator. This is my assistant, Samba. I have permission from the mayor to investigate the disappearance of Sizzle Conifer. I assume this is where his parents live also."
"Oh, yes, I'm his mother, Ash Spruce. But the police have already talked to us about Sizzle. Is this necessary?"
"If you actually want your son to be saved, then yes," Limbo deadpanned.
Samba nudged her as an attempt to scold her poor bedside manner.
Limbo cleared her throat. "Anyway, can we come in? I have my own line of questions I'd like to ask."
"Certainly." Ash stepped aside, gesturing with an exaggerated flourish for them to enter. "Let me just fetch my husband."
While she trotted off, Limbo and Samba stepped into the porch to have a brief look around. While the house looked no different on the outside compared to the other nearby homes, the inside was laden with all kinds of exotic and tribal décor, likely keepsakes from their homeland. On top of that, the living room was practically a forest, with an assortment of potted plants growing—or rather, overgrowing—pretty much everywhere. It felt like they'd just walked into a hanging garden with how many vines and flowers where drooping down from the pots strung up on the ceiling.
Curiously, there were also a pair of mannequins in one corner adorned with fanciful clothing and elaborate headdresses that looked pretty out of place against the more tribal decorations. Surrounding the outfits were photos of what they presumed was a stage play and its actors, wearing similar getups to those on display.
With all the plant life, cloth and wooden keepsakes, and the costumes, it was a little concerning that the smell of smoke appeared to permeate throughout the house—odder still was the slightly peppery aroma it had.
The kirin mare returned, a very hospitable smile on her face. She gestured toward the dining room. "We were just getting ready for lunch. Have you two eaten yet?"
"I don't think that's necessary," Samba politely declined. However, her stomach chose that moment to loudly undermine her.
"Sounds like your tummy disagrees," Ash giggled.
Samba blushed with an embarrassed grin. "Uh, yeah, I was in a hurry this morning, so I might've skipped breakfast."
Ash pulled out a couple of chairs at the dining table for them. "Then have a seat. I'll get you some plates and brew you up something nice to drink."
Limbo grinned eagerly at the use of the word brew. "I like the sound of that."
"Rrraaaaagh!"
Limbo and Samba suddenly shot up from their chairs the moment they sat down.
"The hay was that?!" Limbo asked, standing on guard.
Ash didn't even flinch at the shout, still smiling as she gathered up dishes to set the table. "Oh, that was my husband. He's out back grilling portobello burgers for us."
"H-He didn't hurt himself, did he?" Samba asked worriedly.
"Of course not. He's grilling them with nirik fire."
Samba let her heart rate slow down again. "Oh, I see. Sorry, that was just unexpected."
"Sorry, you lost me. 'Nirik fire'? Wuzzat?" asked Limbo.
"Surely you know that kirin transform into nirik when we get angry," Ash presumed.
"I've heard about that," said Samba. "I've never witnessed it myself, but nirik have control over fire, right?"
"Well, nirik fire is different from normal fire, but in simple terms, yes."
"Oh. I guess that saves money on propane," said Limbo as she and Samba sat down again.
Shortly after that, Ash's husband came back from the barbeque. Contrary to the dark colors of his wife, his coat was a bright white and his mane a fiery orange, while his scales a dark brown. The two bands of his curved, red, branch-like horn were glowing, as he was carrying a few plates of large, freshly grilled mushroom caps and toasted buns with his magic. He placed the plates on the table, turning to his guests with the same affable smile as his wife.
"Ah, you must be the detectives Ash mentioned," he greeted in a rather whimsical voice. He bowed respectfully. "My name is Smoke Cedar. It is lovely to meet you, and a pleasure to host upstanding law enforcement officers in our home."
"Uh, you too, but I'm not actually a detective," Samba corrected. "Actually, this my first day working with Limbo as her assistant. I'm mostly here to learn."
Ash brought her guests their drinks, as well as a few more plates with an assortment of fixings for their burgers—lettuce, cheese, tomato, onions, and even a few different options for sauces. "Help yourselves."
Limbo and Samba graciously began assembling their lunches. Limbo took a moment to sniff both the mushroom patties and the toasted buns. "No offense, but they smell a little odd."
"That would be the nirik fires upon which they were cooked," Smoke informed. "You'll notice a distinct difference in flavor compared to food cooked over normal flames," he said with a rather elitist inflection.
Samba analyzed the burger in her hooves with interest, taking a curious bite. "Hm. That does taste interesting. Not like any burger I've ever had. Maybe a little spicier than I was expecting."
"Nirik fire adds a bit of kick to any meal," Ash stated as she zealously chomped into her own burger.
Samba's face began to flush red, and she started sucking in sharp puffs of air. "Uh, yeah, I'm noticing the kick. Actually, it feels like it's starting to kick harder. Haaaah..." At this point, Samba had begun to fan her tongue. She reached for the drink Ash had brought her and took a big gulp, which was surprisingly effective at suppressing the spiciness. "I-I might need some more of this drink if I'm gonna survive this meal."
"Don't be a wussh, Shamba," Limbo teased with a mouthful of burger.
Samba scowled at her nonchalant attitude. "That's easy for you to say. Your tongue has probably been numbed from all the scalding hot coffee."
"Speaking of which..." Limbo took a sip of her own drink, pursing her lips curiously. "Hmm... That's an odd flavor. What kind of coffee is this?" she asked as she took a second sip.
"Oh, it's not coffee. It's tea," Ash told her.
Limbo immediately sprayed the beverage across the table, coughing and gagging. "Tea?! What do I look like, some kinda hoity-toity aristocrat?! I thought I was getting coffee!"
"Limbo! What are you doing?!" Samba asked in a panic over her partner's behavior. She turned to their hosts, with deep apology in her eyes. "I'm so sorry. She's a super coffee nut. Please don't be offended."
Both Smoke and Ash barely bat an eyelash over her reaction, despite the fact that some of the food on the table was now damp with expelled tea. Smoke simply flicked a hoof dismissively. "Oh, perish the thought. Rotroot tea is an acquired taste for anycreature, even kirin. Her reaction was essentially what we were expecting."
"We apologize for not warning you, but it's always amusing to see people's reactions to their first taste," Ash laughed amusedly. "Although, I am quite impressed that you managed to endure it so well, Miss Samba."
Samba blushed bashfully. "Oh, well, my tongue was on fire for a second there. Thank Celestia this tea seems to be an effective fire suppressant." She took another sip of the tea to actually check the taste. "Mm, actually, it is good. But even if it wasn't, I'd at least have the courtesy to not spit it back out." She said as she cast a scornful glare at Limbo from the corner of her eye.
Limbo eyed up the tea in her cup. "You said this was rotroot tea, right?"
Smoke nodded. "That's correct. Made from the leaves of the rotroot plant. It is a special import from our homeland. You can't grow it around here."
"Yeah, yeah, I've heard about it," Limbo said, casting a sly smirk back at Samba. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but rotroot plants grow from the corpses of decaying animals, don't they?"
Samba halted mid sip, staring down into the dark brown liquid against her lips and in her mouth.
"That's right," Ash confirmed with a casual smile. "And you can tell which plants are top quality because the bodies will be swarming with maggots."
Samba slowly and shakily lowered her cup back down onto the table, the color having drained from her face. She saw the goading smirk on Limbo's face, as well as the pleasant smiles on her hosts' faces. Samba forced herself to swallow what was in her mouth, but had a feeling it wouldn't stay down there for very long once they left. Right now, the spicy burgers were looking like strawberry shortcake in comparison.
Limbo snickered, but gradually composed herself, daintily wiping her mouth with a napkin. "As educational as this conversation is, we do have business to address."
Ash Spruce nodded, her smile still persistent. "Of course. Ask anything you need."
"Your son disappeared three days ago, is that right?"
"That was the last we saw of him, yes," Smoke confirmed.
"Has anycreature been able to confirm his whereabouts around the time of his disappearance?"
"According to the police's investigation, he was spotted downtown apparently, near Trader's Street," said Ash.
Samba tensed up. "Uh, that's actually kinda close to where I live."
"That's what I thought," Limbo muttered. "I was pretty sure I saw some cops wandering around there aimlessly the other day. Knew there had to be a reason." She cast a cheery grin to Samba. "Good thing I decided to snoop around the area myself."
Samba blinked. "I thought you said you were just out for a walk."
"Pfft, a 'walk' for me is never as simple as just going for a leisurely stroll. I'm a detective, for Celestia's sake. Anyhoo, we have a general area where he might have been, but that's on the opposite side of the city from here. Any idea what he was doing out there?"
Ash held her head up proudly. "Oh, we was heading off to an audition. Our Sizzle is a performer of great repute."
"A performer? As in, like, an actor?" Limbo inferred.
"A stage performer, more specifically," answered Smoke.
"Oh, that's right," Samba interjected, recalling the photos and costumes they saw in the living room. "I heard that the theatre, stage plays, and musicals are very popular with kirin."
"'Popular'?" Ash chortled. "They are ingrained in our culture. Why, Smoke and I are veterans of the stage ourselves. Surely you've heard of the famous play Over Autumn Valleys."
"I don't even drink tea. You think I know plays?" Limbo deadpanned.
"It is one of the most critically acclaimed stage plays of the last twenty years, and my dear husband here played an integral role during its latest run. Anypony who knows the theatre knows the legend of Farmer Number Three," Ash proclaimed, holding her husband's hoof as he lifted his nose proudly.
"Uh-huh..." Limbo uttered, unimpressed, as she took another bite of her burger.
"Our dear boy has been vehemently following in our hoofsteps," Smoke informed them. "As the president of his school's drama club, he has both acted in and written his fair share of plays. And no role is outside of his consideration. He'll enthusiastically accept any part if it means bringing that character to life to the best of his ability, even female characters. In fact, it almost seems like he gets even more excited about playing female roles. Rather curious..."
"That sounds like a separate issue entirely and is none of our business," said Limbo dismissively, growing more and more bored by the proud parents' boasting. "Anyway, can we get back on track here?"
"Ah, yes. Um, where were we?" Ash pondered, tapping her chin.
"You said he was headed to an audition," Samba reminded her. "But I don't know of any theatres downtown. The closest thing is the pub I dance at."
"Oh, you're a dancer?" Ash said with interest. "What sort of dancing? Performance? Interpretive?"
Samba shrunk back, her cheeks tinging red with slight shame. "Uh, n-not exactly... I just dance to entertain the patrons. A-Anyway, the theatre was sold and repurposed into a bar. There hasn't been an actual theatre performance there in a couple of years."
"How did he learn about this 'audition'?" inquired Limbo.
"He said he met somepony on the way home from school one day who mentioned it to him," Smoke answered. "Unfortunately, he had neglected to give a description of the person before his disappearance, so not even the police have been able to narrow down any suspects."
"Big shocker," Limbo droned sarcastically. "But if he specifically said 'somepony,' that could at least be something we can work with, although I don't know exactly how much help it'll be given how many ponies live in Baltimare compared to other creatures, and bat and crystal ponies would have to be included in that sample as well."
"Maybe this is a pointless question, but did Sizzle have any enemies?" asked Samba.
"Oh, many," Ash declared confidently.
Limbo blinked, surprised by her answer. "Really?"
Smoke nodded. "Indeed. A lad of his talent has no doubt earned the ire of other aspiring stars. The kidnapper could very well be one of his envious peers, looking to claim the spotlight in his absence."
Limbo let out a exasperated huff through her nostrils. "If that were the case, I think even the B.P.D. could've found the culprit by now. I have one more question, and it has nothing to do with acting. At least, I sincerely hope it doesn't. Is your son talented with magic in any way?"
Both Ash and Smoke tilted their heads, puzzled by the question. "How do you mean?" asked the victim's mother.
"Does he know any complex spells? Something uncommon of the average spellcaster?"
Both of Sizzle's parents looked uncertain. "Not that we're aware," said Smoke.
"Sizzle has never shown much interest in magic," added Ash. "As near as I can tell, his magical aptitude is about on par with other kirin or unicorns. Just what you would typically expect: levitation and such. Oh, and nirik fire of course."
Limbo leaned on the table, her brow knitted in vexation. "Are you sure?"
Ash shrugged. "He was never a secretive boy. If he knew anything exemplary, he'd no doubt share it with the world."
"I see..."
Samba stared silently as Limbo grumbled under her breath. Eventually, the zombie mare pushed her chair back to stand up.
"Well, alright then. I think we have about as much info as we can hope for. Samba, we're leaving. Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs. Spruce, Mr. Cedar. I promise to find your son as quickly as I can manage."
Ash nodded courteously. "And we thank you for your aid. If you need anything else, just ask."
Limbo glanced down at the grub still remaining on the table, then started hastily assembling another burger. "I'll just take one more of these for the road," she insisted before heading for the door.
Samba got up to follow, giving her hosts a grateful, yet somewhat disingenuous grin. "Lovely meeting you, and thank you for lunch. It was... Uh..." She couldn't bring herself to finish her thought and just slipped out as quickly as she could manage.
Similarly to when they had left town hall, Limbo had already gotten a head start back down the street, forcing Samba to gallop up to her. Also similarly, Limbo appeared to be off in her own little world again, idly munching on her extra burger. If this really was like earlier, Samba could safely presume that she was mulling over the new information they'd just gathered.
"So, was any of that helpful?" Samba inquired curiously.
Limbo didn't respond.
"Limbo?"
The detective's head jerked up, snapped from her thoughts. "Hm? Mm..." She swallowed the mouthful of food. "Right, sorry, just thinking."
"Did that give us any clues at all?"
Limbo grimaced uncertainly. "That depends on what you mean by 'clue.' If you mean something that gets us closer to our goal, not exactly."
Samba sighed in disappointment. "This was pointless, then?"
"No, but it makes things more complicated."
"How so?"
"You heard what they said. Sizzle Conifer didn't know any extraordinary spells or anything. Even the B.P.D. and many of the city's citizens have managed to deduce the connection between the victims. That makes Sizzle Conifer an outlier."
"Maybe it wasn't the Ghost," Samba postulated. "You said there've been copycats, right?"
"That's a possibility, sure, but I highly doubt that that's the case. What we should be doing is not overcomplicating things by spitting out other possibilities, but asking ourselves why the Ghost would target Sizzle. What reason could they have to go after him specifically if he doesn't know any noteworthy spells?"
"Well, there's the nirik fire."
"Yeah, but how's a unicorn supposed to be able to copy that?"
"Maybe the kidnapper isn't a unicorn."
Limbo's ears perked up and her eyes widened. "Not a unicorn?"
Samba shrugged. "There's plenty of creatures out there that can use magic, right?"
Limbo pondered the notion with a thoughtful hum. "Now that you mention it, that's true. But according to his parents, he said 'somepony' when referring to the person who told him about the audition."
"A lot of people still use somepony instead of somecreature. Rolls off the tongue better. And who's to say that person was actually the kidnapper? Maybe they have associates. Or maybe they're unrelated to the kidnapper altogether and accidently gave Sizzle the wrong address. I know you said to ask why the kidnapper would do the things they did, but I feel like we should also explore other possibilities."
Limbo stared at Samba for a moment. She almost wanted to smirk with pride. Her first day as her assistant, and Samba was already starting to sound like a detective. "Alright, let's explore the idea that the Ghost may not be a unicorn. What creature would you suggest they are, then?"
Samba tapped a hoof to her chin as she thought about it. "Um... Well, we can probably rule out kirin since a kirin would probably already know how to use nirik fire."
"Other species can't copy a spell like that. Not unicorns, not changelings, not even alicorns. They could learn or devise similar spells, but if that were the case, why go after a kirin at all?"
"But who's to say there aren't creatures out there who can copy spells exclusive to other species' magic?"
"Well, it wouldn't be any of the creatures within the Allied Kingdoms of Equestria." Limbo took another big bite of her burger as she considered the situation. "Thish mide be shomefing that reguires a bid more reshearch. I'll loog indo id lader." She swallowed the mouthful, then grinned pleasantly as she licked her lips. "And maybe also look into seeing if you can buy grills that use nirik fire. This stuff is delish. It's gotta be a thing, right?"
Samba grimaced. "That's a hard pass from me. My mouth is still tingling."
Limbo smirked teasingly. "Then maybe I'll see if I can order some rotroot leaves. Maybe Leaf had a point about broadening my flavor horizons. It might be tea, but it ain't half bad. I mean, it grows from corpses, so it's kinda on brand for me."
Samba felt her stomach churn at just the thought. "Please don't."
Samba let out a long, sleepy yawn as she rode the elevator up to the fifth floor of Limbo's apartment building. It had been a few days now since she started as her assistant, but she still wasn't used to waking up so early in the morning. Limbo eventually told her she didn't have to adhere to a strict schedule or anything, since most days were going to be slower than others, but Samba felt it was for the best if she tried to be punctual anyway, if only to make herself feel like she was at least somewhat reliable.
At least the downtime wasn't boring like it was when she would wait to go to work at the pub in the evenings. Even if the days were slow, Samba and Limbo spent most of that time either hanging out at Limbo's apartment, or walking around the city. Limbo claimed that they were "patrolling the streets," but stopping to see a movie didn't sound like patrolling to Samba. Then again, Limbo was pretty observant; who knows what kinda stuff she picks up in her peripheral vision?
Samba readjusted her saddlebags as she exited the elevator, making her way to Limbo's apartment. The door was already unlocked, as Limbo had made a habit of doing for her new partner when she got up in the morning. Limbo herself was in the kitchen pouring up a cup of coffee, though Samba couldn't tell how many she was on now.
"Morning, Limbo," Samba greeted lethargically.
"Morning," the zombie greeted back with a lack of enthusiasm herself.
Samba thought her tone odd. Limbo couldn't actually get tired, so it was unusual to see her without her signature optimism. But Samba felt like she'd come to know her well enough by now to know why she would be even a little subdued. Limbo had likely been looking over cases all morning. She tended to tune out the world when she was focused on a case. Samba was honestly a little surprised that she even managed to acknowledge her arrival.
Limbo started back to her desk with her refilled coffee, sitting down and quietly looking over a newspaper. Samba was about to inquire about what Limbo was busy looking into, but was distracted by a whistling sound that was steadily getting louder.
"What's that?"
"The kettle," Limbo asked without looking up for the paper.
Samba blinked uncomprehendingly. Out of curiosity, she went to the kitchen to investigate, finding a whistling kettle on the stove spewing out steam. Not only that, but there was a mug that read "My Other Mug Is A Barrel," a carton of milk sitting on the counter, and some sugar packets that looked like they'd been taken from a restaurant table. That was odd enough in itself considering Limbo took her coffee black and more bitter than a high schooler after getting dumped, but even more baffling still was the box of teabags.
"Um, is this a message?"
Limbo looked up to the confused unicorn. "What?"
Samba pointed to all the stuff on the counter. "Like, is this some sort of code you left for me to figure out? Are you trying to subtly tell me that something's wrong? Like somepony is threatening your life—er, undeath—and you can't say anything, so you have to leave cryptic messages to ask for help?"
Limbo just stared, bewildered by her logic. "No. It's for you. To make tea."
Samba continued to skeptically analyze the supplies laid out before her. "Is this a test?"
"What are you on about? I thought you knew how to make tea?"
"But are you checking to see if I would actually make one in your home?" Samba asked with paranoia. "Is it like that movie we saw the other day, where if I make the wrong choice it triggers a trap?"
"Jeez laweez, just make the freaking tea, for Celestia's sake," Limbo groaned in annoyance. "I bought that stuff for you because you don't drink coffee. Is this what I get for being considerate to my employees? Sheesh."
"Sorry, it just seemed a little weird. Considering how into coffee you are, I was convinced that tea was to you what garlic is to vampires."
"Yeah, well, I'm an accommodating vampire. Zombie. Whatever." Limbo observed as Samba prepared her tea. Not so much the act of tea preparation itself, but rather Samba herself. "You know, I could make similar comments about you this morning."
"What do you mean?"
"No makeup," she pointed out. "I know you never really go to town on yourself with the stuff, but it is pretty noticeable when you're not using any mascara or eye shadow. Not that I'm saying you don't look good without it, mind you."
"Oh, that. I actually have my makeup in my bags," Samba told her. "I figured it'd be easier to get here on time if I just did my makeup over here."
"And take time out of your work hours instead?" Limbo deadpanned.
"Um, w-well..." Samba stuttered, having not considered that and now a little embarrassed to be called out on it.
Limbo chuckled and flicked her hoof. "Relax, I'm not that uptight. Go put your face on."
Samba left her tea on the counter to cool, heading off for Limbo's bathroom. Limbo turned her attention back to the newspaper on her desk, the apartment falling silent once more.
Well, for a moment anyway.
"Eyah!"
Limbo barely reacted to Samba's shocked yelp, just furrowing her brow. "Webber! What did I tell you about hiding in the medicine cabinet? That's a quick way to get yourself squished. Uh, she didn't actually squish you, did she?"
"No, I didn't, but I was tempted," Samba called back. There was another moment of silence before Limbo heard Samba's voice again. "Are you really just gonna sit there and watch me the whole time?"
"Just threaten to put him in the tub. Usually works for me," Limbo suggested.
"I am not touching him. Hey! O-Okay, okay, I'm sorry! I wasn't trying to suggest you're dirty or anything, it's just... well, you're a spider. You've gotta understand that, right? Not everypony likes to have eight hairy legs crawling over them." She went quiet again. "Please stop staring at me. You're making me uncomfortable."
"Webber, leave her alone," Limbo told the spider.
Eventually, Webber skittered out from the hall, crawling up onto Limbo's desk. The green mare gave him a somewhat disapproving scowl, but couldn't keep the slight smirk of amusement off her face.
"I know it's fun to haze the newbie, but maybe dial it back a bit, yeah?"
After putting on her face, Samba returned. She pulled a chair from the kitchen over to Limbo's desk, opposite the detective. Limbo peered up, staring at Samba as she sipped her tea—or rather, slurped her tea. Loudly.
"It's not that hot," Limbo grumbled.
"Oh, sorry. Uh, no offence, but you seem to be in kind of a foul mood today. I'd ask if you got enough sleep, but that probably doesn't have any effect on you, huh?"
Limbo sighed and dropped her newspaper on the desk. "Just a little frustrated. I've been wracking my brain over the Sizzle Conifer thing, trying to find out what sort of creature could copy other creatures' magic. I had to settle for perusing old newspapers from a couple decades ago to see if Equestria has any lesser known allies, because apparently somepony took out all the books on the subject from the library already."
"Oh, yeah, that was me."
Limbo looked up in surprise. "Wait, really?"
"Mm-hm." Samba reached into her saddlebags, pulling out a few books on different creatures of Equestria and laying them on the desk. She noticed the look of disbelief on Limbo's face. "What?"
"Nothing, I just... wasn't expecting that."
Samba knit her brow, a little insulted. "I know I dance for a bunch of drunks at a bar for a living, but I'm not some dumb bimbo. I read from time to time. Mostly magazine articles, but that's beside the point. Anyway, I'm not doing much at home, so I figured, why not?"
"Well, great," said Limbo, impressed by Samba's initiative and relieved that the information may not have eluded her. "So, what did you find out?"
Samba frowned slightly. "Uh, well, not much actually. I mean, I only skimmed the books obviously, but according to these, any type of creature capable of what we're looking for either hasn't been seen in hundreds of years, or were villains defeated by the princesses at some point."
Limbo leaned on her hoof, disappointed by the news. "Figures. So we're back to square one, at least until we get some new info."
"I mean, isn't there a possibility that the Ghost wanted Sizzle Conifer for some other reason? I mean, we don't know one hundred percent that the motive is magic, right?"
"If it isn't magic, then the pattern of victims is one of the biggest coincidences I've ever witnessed. You know, barring Sizzle. But, on that note, we do have an objective today."
Limbo slapped a sheet of paper onto the table. Samba looked it over, and even Webber crawled over to check it out. It appeared to be an advertisement that would have been posted on a street lamp or the window of a corner store. It was colorful and plastered with images of stars and crescent moons. Flamboyant text was printed all over it, and Samba scanned through it all.
"'The Greatest Magic Show in Equestria'? We're going to a magic show?"
"Yup."
"I thought you said this was an objective. Sounds more like your using this as an excuse to slack off, like that movie."
"Keep reading."
Samba looked back down at the poster. "'Astounding and Awe-Inspiring Spells.' 'Unrivaled Feats of Magical Prowess.' 'Post-Show Meet 'n' Greet.'" Samba cocked a puzzled eyebrow. "A meet 'n' greet? That's kinda weird for a magic show."
"The whole thing is weird," Limbo commented. "It's not like the speculation about the Ghost's supposed motives isn't public knowledge. A lot of people have put those pieces together for themselves at this point. So then why would somepony be so careless as to openly boast about their magical talent?"
"You think they're gonna end up inadvertently making themselves a target?"
"I don't think there's anything 'inadvertent' about it. This advertising is way too blatant to not be deliberate. It sounds like somepony is setting bait."
"And you want to check it out to see if the Ghost takes the bait."
"The Ghost is too smart to fall for something so obvious, but you never know. It's probably in our best interest to head over there anyway. Not like we have anything better to do."
"Fair enough. It might even be fun," Samba said with an eager smile. "I might not be able to use magic very well myself, but I greatly admire people who can. Pira actually put on a magic show for me on my last birthday. It was pretty cute. I'd invite her to come with us, but if the Ghost has a possibility of showing up, that's probably not a good idea."
"The show's in a couple of hours at Canter Waterfront Park. So we'll go out for lunch after you finish your tea, then make our way over there to see the show."
***** ***** *****
It was around noon now. Limbo and Samba had briefly gone to the park before grabbing their lunch to assess the event they had come to attend. They chose to eat at a quaint little café within sight of the venue of the upcoming magic show.
Canter Waterfront Park was always a hot spot for people looking to relax. It offered a beautiful view of Horseshoe Bay, while also not being close enough to the wharfs to muddy the sights with large boats or the smell of fish. Flat, grassy meadows made a great place for picnics. Young couples or families frequently set up to have lunch under the cool shade of a tall tree, while others passed through on their morning jog. It was overall picturesque and peaceful.
But today was a little different. A sizable crowd consisting of a nearly equal mix of adults and children had gathered within one area of the park, hanging out near a structure that was not usually there. Set up smack dab in the middle of the park was a modestly sized stage that appeared to actually be an unfolded wagon, making the stage more compact and transportable when it was packed. The stage was flanked by purple curtains, and with the colorful, wooden cutouts, large, brass horns, and, from the looks of things, pyrotechnics, the comparatively small stage looked more like a circus sideshow than simply a platform for magic tricks. Nevertheless, it had done its job effectively and attracted an audience.
After finishing their lunch, Limbo and Samba decided to hang out around the stage with the other spectators until the show started. Neither of them were sure if the magician organizing the show was one of the people mingling amongst them, as the poster had been too cluttered with art and text to include an image of somepony, but more than likely they were backstage preparing since the show was set to begin soon.
"Hey, quick question," said Limbo to her partner. "As a unicorn, are magic shows even exciting for you?"
"I'm not exactly the best one to ask. I'm basically an earth pony with a horn."
"Yeah, but you said you admire ponies who are talented with magic. My question is, how interesting can a show like this be when tons of people can use magic?"
Samba pondered the question for a moment. "I guess it's more the spectacle of it. Show's like this are more about the visuals as opposed to showcasing practical spells, or using spells in creative ways to entertain an audience."
"Sounds like you've seen a few magic shows," Limbo inferred.
Samba blushed slightly. "I went to a few when I was younger... hoping that it might trigger something for my funnel horn. You can see how that went."
"Don't sweat the small stuff. Being an earth pony might sound lame, but there's all sorts of stuff we can do that pegasi and unicorns can't, like... Uh... We can... No, that doesn't work... Mmm... Gimme a sec, I'll think of something."
A small grin creased Samba's lips. "It's okay, Limbo. I appreciate the support, but I've pretty much resigned myself to being a subpar unicorn already."
"No no, hang on, it'll come to me."
A loud, mechanical click reverberated through the around surrounding the stage. A pair of spotlights had turned on, pointing the very center of the platform, though they didn't do a whole lot considering it was the middle of the day.
"Hold that thought. The show's starting," Samba whispered with only a hint of excitement behind her child-like grin.
The crowd in the area began to converge around the stage now that it was evident the show was beginning. A pink mist began to seep out from the stage, not so thick as to obscure everypony's vision though. The mist rose up above the audience and, to the surprise of the spectators, the light from the sun appeared to dim. A dome of magical energy surrounded the stage and the audience, and they watched as the bright blue sky suddenly appeared to darken to a dusky purple, giving the illusion that it was nighttime to anypony within the bubble—even tiny dots of light and an outline of a crescent moon decorated the dome to look like a starry, twilight sky.
"Whoa, that's so cool," Samba breathed in amazement. "I guess this is why they didn't bother to wait until night."
"Yeah, it's pretty neat," Limbo agreed, though not sounding nearly as impressed. "But it's just an illusion. Nothing too extraordinary just yet."
"Come on, can't you lighten up a little?" Samba chided with a smirk. "I know you came here because of the Ghost, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy the show."
"This kinda stuff is for kids. I can't see there being anything here that'll really pique my interest."
The murmurs of the eager crowd died down when a mare's voice echoed from an unseen speaker somewhere on the stage, drawing all attention forward.
"Fillies and Gentlecolts! Prepare to be shocked and amazed by magical feats the likes of which your unenlightened eyes have never seen! Spectacles of unmatched prowess in prestidigitation! Not even your dreams could manifest the awe-inspiring sights that you are about to witness!
"Geez, get on with it already," Limbo grumbled under her breath.
"Now, feast your eyes upon the very incarnation of beauty, brains, and arcane talent! The one, the only! The Great and Powerful..."
A cloud of sparkly, purple smoke burst from the center of the stage, and once it dissipated, revealed a mare wearing a pointed, purple hat and matching cape decorated with stars. The mare reared up on her hind legs, loudly proclaiming her name to the crowd.
"Tr-r-r-ixie!"
The audience erupted in cheers and applause at the grandiose entrance, the light blue mare grinning unabashedly as she basked in their premature praise, flicking her silver mane. She appeared to be in no rush to actually start the show.
"Thank you, thank you, you're all too kind," the magician said. "A lovely audience like you deserves only the best from an equally lovely—ifnotmore—performer. Then, without further ado, The Great and Powerful Tr-r-rixie shall begin with a feat that would make other magicians weep, but is actually rather rudimentary for somepony of Trixie's level."
Trixie's show finally began, with the spectators hanging on every word she boastfully uttered, and their eyes amazed by her tricks and spells.
Limbo was probably the only member of the audience who wasn't smiling. Instead of allowing herself to simply turn her zombified brain off and enjoy the show, she scrutinized everything Trixie did, analyzing every spell to discern which were practical and which were merely illusions.
Conversely, Samba found herself practically unable to blink, her cheeks stretched by a child-like smile of wonderment as Trixie performed all manner of feats that Samba wished she could even attempt to replicate. Using teleportation to escape a chained box, creating copies of herself to distract the audience while she turned invisible and reemerged from the crowd, amongst a plethora of other impressive feats. For all of her boasting, she appeared to have the talent to back it up.
After approximately an hour of spells, illusions, and pyrotechnics, Trixie took center stage again to address the crowd. "That's it for this afternoon's performance! But fear not! The Great and Powerful Tr-r-rixie shall be doing an encore performance later tonight for those who haven't had enough of her. As though it were possible to have enough," she laughed. For as steady as her voice and posture were, it was hard to miss the sweat glistening on her forehead under the spotlights as she removed her hat and bowed to the audience. "Until then, so long!"
Trixie reared up onto her hindlegs in one last display of showmanship, the stage setting off a light show of twirling sparks and flames, and Trixie disappeared just as she arrived: in a cloud of purple smoke, leaving the stage empty once again.
With the show over, the twilight veil surrounding the audience dissipated, forcing the spectators to cover their eyes as they adjusted to the natural light of the sun again. The crowd began to disperse, though about half the people that had attended the show stayed within proximity of the stage, likely for the promised meet 'n' greet from the posters. Regardless, the excitement of the performance lingered in the form of raucous laughter and play from the overstimulated children.
Samba was among those still riding the high from the show, a big grin plastered on her face. "That was incredible! She was there, then she was there, and then there were two of her, and that light show at the end! She was casting those spells like they were nothing!"
"Yep, pretty high level stuff."
Samba's enthusiasm faltered slightly. Limbo's lack of any real reaction to the whole show took some of the wind out of her sails. "Come on, you had to enjoy it at least a little bit, right?"
"Didn't you notice anything odd about the spells she performed?"
Samba tilted her head. "Uh, that they were amazing?"
"In a sense. But what I'm referring to specifically is the fact that practically every spell she showcased were spells known by the individual victims of the Ghost. Teleportation, duplication, transmogrification, etcetera. I guess you were a little too absorbed in the spectacle to heed it."
Samba's eyes widened, glancing around cautiously as she responded in a hushed, but shocked tone, "Wait, do you think she could be the Ghost?!"
"I highly doubt that. She's drawing too much attention to herself, but that does add credence to my previous suspicion."
"That she's trying to get the Ghost's attention, right?"
"Yeah, for whatever reason."
"Maybe she's an undercover cop setting a trap for the Ghost," Samba speculated.
"She doesn't look like any of the cops from the B.P.D., so unless she's an officer brought in from another city, I don't think that's likely either. I want to have a chat with her to figure this out."
Samba's excitement came back in full force in the form of a giddy smile. "Really?! Okay! But we should get in line quick so we don't have to wait too long!"
"Geez, you really are excited after—whoa, hey!"
Samba grabbed Limbo by the leg and practically dragged her over to the line that had begun to form next to the stage.
"Okay, I get it, you're a kid at heart," Limbo chuckled as they found their spot.
"I'm more excited in Pira's place. She's gonna be so stoked when I tell her about this. Maybe I can bring her out to the encore performance tonight."
"Sure, sure, but business before pleasure, yeah?"
Limbo and Samba waited patiently and impatiently in line, respectively. There were about a dozen of so people ahead of them, extending around the corner to the back of the stage, but they had no idea how long they'd actually be waiting. Samba fidgeted incessantly, still charged from the performance like an excitable child. She wanted to keep gushing about how much she enjoyed the show, but judging by the annoyed grimace on Limbo's face, she assumed her companion didn't want to hear any more of it. So, instead, she focused her attention to one of the other eager fans. Specifically, the grey unicorn stallion standing in line behind her, with an ashy white mane and a cutie mark depicting a half-melted candle.
"This is exciting, isn't it?"
"Huh?!" The stallion jumped at the sound of her voice, fumbling a thoroughly crinkled piece of paper he'd been reading and dropping it on the ground.
"Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. Let me get that," she offered kindly.
"N-No!" The stallion scrambled to retrieve the paper before Samba could, stuffing it haphazardly into his saddlebags. "I-It's private."
Samba held up a hoof in an effort to calm the clearly jittery stallion. "Alright, but I wasn't gonna read it or anything." She observed as he sighed shakily. The guy was sweating bullets. If she had to guess, he was probably pretty young, maybe fresh out of high school. Samba had seen guys similar to him when she was in school, and had a feeling she knew what might be up with him. "Are you nervous?" she assumed with a friendly smile.
"N-Nervous?! Wh-Why?! I'm not doing anything!" he practically shouted.
Samba took a step back. "I... didn't say you were. I just figured you were a little on edge about meeting Trixie."
The stallion wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Uh, you c-could say that."
Samba smirked. All the telltale signs were there. The flushed face, the profuse sweating, the nervous stammer. It looked as though somepony had been bitten by the love bug. "Lemme guess: you've got a crush on Trixie."
The stallion blinked blankly. "Huh? A-A crush?"
"I get it, trust me. Lots of guys get nervous when they're preparing to talk to their crush because their afraid of being shot down. Believe me, I've had to see the look of dejection on plenty of guys' faces when they confessed to me and I had to gently let them down. The important part is to not let it get to you. Just having the courage to admit your feelings will make you a better, stronger person."
The stallion just stared at her, looking more than a little bewildered. "Uh..."
"I mean, I'm not saying she'll definitely say no or anything. You won't know that until you tell her. I just want to help you be prepared in case she does, you know? I mean, she's, like, twice your age, I'd wager. I'm not judging or anything, age is just a number, but the gap in maturity might be something to keep in mind."
"Umm..."
"Maybe keep your nose out of other people's business, cupid," Limbo chided.
"What? I'm just offering some advice. Shy, young stallions have a hard time with stuff like this. Besides, aren't you about to be getting in other people's business too?"
"I'm a detective, it's my job to get in people's business if it's related to a case."
"A-A detective?" the stallion stuttered quietly.
"If you ask me," Limbo continued, "I wouldn't exactly be receptive of advice offered by a random stranger. I think you're weirding the kid out."
Samba looked back to the stallion worriedly. "Oh, am I weirding you out?"
The stallion hesitated, taking a small step back. "A-A little..."
"I'm so sorry," Samba apologized, her mood suddenly becoming more sullen. "I was just trying to help, but I guess I'm not really in any position to be offering relationship advice myself..."
"Let's just focus on the task at hoof, Samba," Limbo suggested. "Let the kid do whatever he wants and don't worry about it."
"Alright," Samba agreed, facing forward once more as the line moved ahead, and the stallion said nothing else.
It took some time, but eventually Samba and Limbo were on the cusp of getting their turn to meet Trixie. The line of people lead to a door that appeared to go backstage of the unpacked wagon. Once the last person ahead of them came out from the door—with a rather mixed expression on her face, for some reason—it was finally Samba and Limbo's turn. They politely knocked on the door.
"Come in," came the somewhat exasperated-sounding voice of Trixie from within.
The two did as she said, quickly noticing how cramped the space was, not just because half the wagon was comprised of the stage, but also because the actual living space within the wagon was cluttered with all sorts of junk, mostly props, though Trixie hadn't used much of this stuff during today's show.
Trixie herself was seated on a small stool at an equally small vanity, hat removed, but still wearing her cape. She looked a tad weary, her silver mane a bit unkempt as she attempted to fix it with a hairbrush. She briefly glanced at the pair of mares who had entered, clearing her throat and addressing her guests with a somewhat subdued version of her on-stage personality.
"Welcome to The Great and Powerful Trixie's abode. A pleasure to meet you," she greeted in a rehearsed drone.
Limbo was about to speak, but was quickly cut off by Samba.
"Hi, Trixie, I'm Samba, this is Limbo. I just wanted to say your show was amazing!"
That comment seemed to instill a little more emotion into Trixie's demeanor, holding her nose up with a satisfied grin. "Yes, well, such is to be expected from one as talented as I."
"I really envy people like you. I can't use magic very well because I have funnel horn, but I really enjoy watching people who can. And you don't even charge people for watching!"
Trixie held a hoof to her chest modestly, though the persistent smirk of self-satisfaction belied that modesty. "It would just be unfair not to share such talent with the masses. That being said, donations are still appreciated." She held her hat out upside-down and waited, but neither of them seemed to bite, just staring awkwardly, so she retracted it with a grimace. "Well, anyway, it's always heartwarming to meet new fans, and I hope you'll come to tonight's performance as well."
"Definitely!"
Limbo just rolled her eye as Samba gushed. But her sight ended up landing on a framed photo sitting on the vanity depicting Trixie shoulder-to-shoulder with a light purple unicorn mare. The magician looked a lot younger in the photo, indicating it was a rather old picture. But it was the other mare in the photo that caught Limbo's attention.
"Hey, isn't that Starlight Glimmer in that picture?" Limbo asked.
"Hm? Oh, yeah, that's Starlight. Why?"
Samba's ears perked up at the mention of the name, staring incredulously at Trixie. "Wait, you mean the headmare of the School of Friendship? You met her?! That's so cool! She's one of the most powerful unicorns in Equestria!"
Trixie quirked an eyebrow, as though her surprise were unwarranted. "Met her? Starlight's been my best friend for years."
"Seriously?!" Samba blurted in amazement. "That's crazy! How'd that happen?!"
Trixie narrowed her eyes at the pair of mares. "Wait, do you two actually not know who I am?"
Samba and Limbo shared puzzled looks before shrugging.
The magician's mouth hung agape, insulted by their ignorance. "Are you serious? Hello? The Great and Powerful Trixie. As in, savior of the Changeling Kingdom. You can't tell me you never heard about that. I swear, kids these days have no respect."
"I'm pretty sure that Starlight Glimmer was the one responsible for reforming the changleings, along with Discord and Thorax," Limbo stated.
Trixie flicked her hoof dismissively. "Sure, they helped a little, but it wouldn't have been possible without me by their side."
"Wait, hang on," Samba said, eyeing up Trixie. After a moment, her eyes widened in realization. "Ah! Actually, I have heard of you! You work at the School of Friendship too, right? As a... guidance counselor, I think?"
"Yes, that's right," Trixie answered, visibly relieved that she'd been recognized.
"How do you know that?" inquired Limbo.
"Before we realized how talented Pira was with magic, me and Rhapsody were gonna try enrolling her at that school, so we did our research." She turned back to Trixie quizzically. "So what are you doing performing magic shows in Baltimare?"
"It's summer break right now, so the school's closed. Besides, I became a guidance counselor to help my best friend. My true passion is performing for my adoring fans," Trixie claimed with a sweeping flourish of her hoof. "Truth be told, shows like this have been becoming more and more taxing as I get older and continue to put on shows more bombastic than the last, but I have to do something during the downtime to stave off the boredom and prevent my skills from growing dull."
"Well, you certainly picked a bad time and place to flaunt your talent," Limbo commented bluntly.
Trixie scrunched up her nose with a huff. "What ever makes you say that?"
"Alright, enough feigning ignorance," Limbo said, exasperated by this whole situation. She flashed her detective's badge to Trixie. "I'm a private detective, and I want to ask you some questions, Miss Trixie."
"No need to be so formal. You can call me The Great and Powerful Trixie."
"Not happening. Now, my first question: Have you heard of the Ghost of Baltimare?"
Trixie hesitated, sneering at the inquisitive mare. "And what if I have?"
That response was sufficient enough to confirm Limbo's suspicions. "The details of those kidnappings have pretty much become public knowledge at this point, so it baffles me as to why somepony would choose to hold a magic show in this city with the Ghost out there, and, not only that, choosing to showcase almost exclusively spells known by the victims."
"What exactly are you insinuating, Detective?" Trixie asked, continuing to deny any suspicion.
"Well, perhaps I'm a little off base here, but if I didn't know any better, I'd think that somepony were deliberately trying to make themselves a target."
Trixie pouted indignantly, but said nothing.
"You're not actually trying to get the Ghost's attention, are you?" Samba asked worriedly.
Again, Trixie stayed silent, but the broken eye contact and frustrated shade of red in her cheeks said it all. "If this 'Ghost' person is targeting talented spellcasters, then surely The Great and Powerful Trixie would be too tempting a target to pass up, right?"
"Why do you want to be kidnapped?" Samba inquired, puzzled by her logic.
"She doesn't want to be kidnapped, she just wants to be targeted," Limbo postulated. "Given the boisterous performance we just watched and even this brief conversation, it sounds to me like she's trying to be targeted in order to validate her own self-inflated ego."
"That's awfully presumptuous of somepony you just met, don't you think?" Samba said in Trixie's defense.
"It's all perfectly logical when you think about. She clearly has magical talent."
Trixie's prideful smirk returned in full force at the compliment. "Well, at least you recognize that much."
"But then why haven't we heard about her before?"
And the wind was taken out of Trixie's sails just as quickly.
"You only heard about her because she works at the School of Friendship. So my question to her is: Where did you learn those spells?"
Trixie huffed, lifting her nose at the question. "What do you mean? Did you not just say I had talent?" She watched as Limbo just raised a skeptical eyebrow. Trixie sighed reluctantly. "Starlight taught me. There, I admitted it. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Limbo nodded, having suspected as much. "Starlight Glimmer is practically a celebrity and a national hero. It makes sense that her best friend would end up relegated to living in her shadow and coveting that notoriety. I've seen it before. Some people will go to some real extremes to make a name for themselves."
Trixie flicked her hoof dismissively. "Make all the accusations you want, they're completely baseless. Now then, if you're done interrogating me, there are more of my adoring fans still waiting to meet me. That's all the validation I need."
"I'm so sorry about her," Samba apologized in Limbo's stead. "She's just really serious about the Ghost case since her best friend was one of the victims."
Trixie actually managed to give Limbo a sympathetic look upon hearing that. "Is that right?" She attempted to act aloof, but it was still evident that she wasn't entirely self-centered. "Hm, well, in that case, I'll overlook your harsh words this time. Here." Trixie grabbed a glamor shot of herself from a stack on her vanity, stamping it with her hoofprint to sign it and offering it to Limbo. "I normally charge for autographed photos, but I'll give you this one for free to show there's no hard feelings."
Limbo reluctantly took the photo. "Thanks," she said, though rather disingenuously.
Samba eagerly pulled out her spellphone. "Oh, could I snap a pic of the two of us to show my daughter."
"Sure. Ten bits."
Samba's enthusiasm deflated pretty quickly, slipping her phone back into its sleeve. "Oh. Uh, maybe I'll wait until I bring Pira tonight, then."
"Come on, let's go," said Limbo as she stepped out the door.
Samba briefly flashed a friendly, albeit awkward smile back at Trixie before following Limbo. "It was nice meeting you."
As they were leaving, Samba briefly crossed gazes with the jumpy stallion that was in line behind them, now next to meet Trixie. She felt bad about making him feel awkward before, so she wanted to offer one more vote of confidence to help him out. "Good luck," she whispered with a sly wink.
The stallion just gulped, looking perhaps even more nervous than he was prior before taking his turn to meet the magician.
Samba gave Limbo a reprimanding glare. "You know, you didn't have to antagonize her like that."
"She's willingly putting herself in danger just to stroke her own ego. It's reckless. I used to be a cop, so it's my prerogative to talk people like her out of doing dumb crap just to prove a point. Besides, you should be on my side. You can't tell me you weren't a little disappointed by her attitude."
Samba pouted, breaking eye contact. "She did seem a little... self-centered. I mean, ten bits for just a picture? I'll pay that for Pira, but maybe not for myself. But the show's free, so is it really that big a deal?"
"Well, then, you might as well have this since she's your new hero and all," Limbo mocked, passing the autographed photo to Samba.
"I'll probably just give this to Pira too." Samba stared at the glamor shot, the photo depicting Trixie with a now familiar-looking smirk of self-satisfaction. "Or maybe I'll just let her pick her own role models. Hey, maybe you should keep this. You can stick it up on your wall for when she gets kidnapped," Samba joked.
"Pfft. First of all, I wouldn't be caught dead or alive with that hanging on my wall. Despite what you might think, I have taste. Second, there is no way in Tartarus the Ghost would even consider targeting her. For one thing, Trixie only really showcased spells known by the current victims, so what reason would the Ghost have to go after her? And another thing, she's best friends with Starlight Glimmer. We've talked about this before, but the Ghost hasn't had any high profile targets, and Trixie's association with somepony like Starlight would put her in that category. If the Ghost, for some Celestia-forsaken reason, actually kidnaps Trixie, I'll eat my badge."
"Speaking of which, where is your badge?"
"Hm?" Limbo glanced down at her leg, the strap that usually held her wallet—which her badge was in—was bare. "Oh, crud, I must've left it in Trixie's wagon," she groaned.
"Shut up. Having to go back there is punishment enough. I don't need you ragging on me," Limbo grumbled.
The pair turned back to return to the park. However, when they made it back to the stage, they noticed that there was no longer a line leading around to the back for the meet 'n' greet. That was odd considering there was still a sizable number of people waiting to meet Trixie when they left.
Finding the lack of people strange, Limbo pulled aside the nearest person that she recognized from the line. "Hey, where'd everypony go?"
The mare shrugged, looking disappointed herself. "Apparently Trixie cancelled the meet 'n' greet early. No idea why. Sucks too. I was gonna try and see how much I could sell a signed photo for."
"You probably couldn't sell 'em for as much as she charges for 'em," Limbo muttered under her breath.
At the very least, the lack of people meant they didn't have to wait again, so Limbo walked right up to the door and knocked.
"Hey, Trixie. It's Limbo. I think I left something in there. Can we come in?"
There was no response.
Limbo pursed her lips. "That's weird. There's no way she can't hear me."
"She's probably giving you the cold shoulder for the way you talked to her," Samba scolded.
"Would you give it a rest?"
"You might've hurt her feelings. Just try apologizing."
Limbo groaned loudly. "Ugh, fine. I'm sorry if I was a little aggressive, Trixie. Now, can you open up, please?"
Again, no response.
"You don't think she cancelled the meet 'n' greet because of us, do you?" Samba wondered remorsefully.
Limbo banged on the door more loudly. "Alright, stop being such a drama queen. You're not that upset."
Nothing.
Limbo grumbled in frustration. "Okay, I'm done being nice. My badge is in there, and I really need it back, so I'm coming in with or without your permission."
Doing just as she said, Limbo opened the door. But, much to both of their surprise, Trixie was nowhere to be seen.
"The hay? Where'd she go?" Limbo pondered as she looked around. There was one other door that seemed to lead out to the stage, so she poked her out there to check.
Samba glanced to the vanity, spotting Limbo's badge sitting there. However, as she made to pick it up, she spotted a crinkled sheet of paper sitting there as well. She picked it up to read it, too curious to ignore it as all the text on the paper seemed to consist of words and letters cut from a magazine. Her eyes widened as she read it. "Uh, Limbo?"
The detective turned back, Samba holding the note out to her. "What's this? A love letter or something?" She began to read it aloud.
"'Ive Taken TriXie. If you want her ReLeased unHaRMed, bring 50000 biTS to Baltimare harBOur tonight.'"
Limbo just stared in utter disbelief at what she'd just read. "You've gotta be kidding me..."
Samba held out the badge to Limbo. "Want me to see if Trixie's got any condiments lying around?"
***** ***** *****
Samba and Limbo had attended Trixie's magic show under the pretense of investigating the Ghost of Baltimare, but neither of them actually expected the magician to disappear. Yet here they were, walking down the street with purpose in their steps and a ransom note in their possession.
They were back uptown now, not far from town hall. The entire walk, Limbo wore a disgusted grimace on her face. Samba inferred that she was just sour about being wrong that the Ghost wouldn't target Trixie, but didn't harp on it to avoid putting her in an even worse mood. So, instead, she decided to voice another question.
"Where are we going anyway?"
"Somewhere I'd rather not visit if I had a choice," Limbo answered with disdain in her voice. "A place so disgusting and brimming with the least trustworthy people that nopony should have to set hoof in there if they can avoid it."
They stopped in front of a brick building, the sign on the side displaying the city's coat-of-arms and the same seal one would find on the side of Baltimare's law enforcement carriages, several of which were parked nearby.
"The Baltimare Police Department..." Limbo uttered, venom dripping from her tongue.
"Why are we here?" Samba asked curiously. "You're a detective. Can't you just investigate Trixie's disappearance?"
"I'm a private detective. That basically means that, unless I'm specifically hired to investigate something, I'm just an ordinary citizen. And as an ordinary, upstanding citizen, it's my sworn—albeit reluctant—duty to report any crimes I witness to the proper authorities. For as little as it might actually accomplish in the end. But, on the bright side, you'll finally have a chance to see things from my perspective."
"I choose to temper my expectations," Samba told her. "I still think you're exaggerating."
"Well, we'll see, won't we?"
Limbo lead Samba inside to a reception area with only one officer seated at a desk. Limbo just ignored him and made straight for the door past him. He pushed his chair back and reached out a hoof to stop her.
"Hey, you can't just—"
"Shut up, Punch. How many times we gotta go through this?" Limbo snipped.
The stallion meekly backed off with a sigh as Limbo went on her way. Samba slowly followed behind her, giving the guy an apologetic look, but the officer didn't even bothering to try and stop her from proceeding.
Beyond the door was an office space for the station's many officers, with several desks, filing cabinets, and a very familiar scent of coffee hanging in the air. Of course, many officers were also present, either doing paperwork or just loitering and chatting idly. While there were mostly ponies in uniform here, there were a couple of other creatures as well, such as a pair of griffons.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in."
A bat pony stallion with a dark grey coat, midnight blue mane, navy blue uniform, and a mocking smirk sauntered over to Limbo with a cup of coffee in his hoof, casually taking a sip as he stared challengingly at the former officer.
"You need to get some new material, Owl," Limbo deadpanned with a scowl. "Seriously, you say that every time I come here."
"Then maybe consider not coming here if it bothers you so much. Or you could stop showing up looking like a mauled rat. Really, it wouldn't kill you to run a comb through this mess you call a mane," he teased, flicking a few of her short, brown strands with his hoof.
Limbo bat his hoof away indignantly. "You know, I'll never understand how you don't have a girlfriend, Owl," she mocked sarcastically.
Her insult didn't faze him. Instead, he turned his attention to the other mare standing behind Limbo, shoving the detective aside to approach her. "Speaking of which, who is this lovely filly?"
Samba took a slight step back, which was enough to indicate to the officer that she wasn't interested, though that didn't affect the playful smile on his face. "I'm Samba, Limbo's assistant," she introduced with an affable grin, offering her hoof.
The officer kindly shook her hoof, but glanced over his shoulder at Limbo. "You're hiring help now? What happened to all your boasting about being more competent than the entire force put together?"
"I owe her a favor, let's leave it at that," Limbo answered.
"Anyway, name's Night Owl. Sergeant Night Owl. No doubt Limbo's been talking a lot of smack."
"Yeah, but I'd rather form an opinion for myself," said Samba.
"Good to hear."
"To be fair, Owl's pretty much the only competent officer on the force," Limbo admitted.
The three of them glanced over at some of the other officers in the room. One stallion was stuffing his face with potato chips and making a mess of his desk; a mare was kicking back and filing her hooves; one stallion was frantically trying to fix another's tie, which was too tight and turning his face blue; another still had somehow managed to get a pencil stuck up his nose.
Owl grimaced at the pitiful sights. "Unfortunately, I can't say she's entirely wrong. But it's different when we're out on patrol, I'll have you know."
"Oh yeah? Who's out right now?" Limbo inquired knowingly.
"None of your business," Owl sneered.
"Let me guess: Paddy and Siren?"
Owl narrowed his eyes at her. "What of it? They're fine officers."
"Sure, sure. You know, assuming they're not at the salon right now."
Owl sighed in annoyance, plopping himself down at a currently empty desk. "Alright, I know you didn't just come here to sharpen your fangs on us. So what do you want, Limbo?"
Limbo slapped the wrinkled ransom note on the desk. Owl picked it up and looked it over for a moment before turning his eyes back up at her indifferently.
"This isn't the Ghost, Limbo."
"Yeah, no doi. If it was, I wouldn't have bothered coming here."
"It's not?" Samba questioned in surprise. "I thought that's what this was about."
Owl ran a hoof through his mane. "I'll give you a pass for not knowing, seeing who your boss is, but you should know that the Ghost has never left a ransom note, or any evidence for that matter."
"Of course I told her that," Limbo corrected. "The issue is that this Trixie chick was deliberately trying to get the Ghost's attention."
"So what you're suggesting here is that somepony kidnapped her looking to imitate the Ghost. Is that it?"
"If they were trying to imitate them, they wouldn't have left this note, unless they have no idea what the Ghost is about. I came here because me and Samba were the ones who discovered the note and her disappearance. Plus, this Trixie character apparently has ties with Starlight Glimmer and, by extension, Princess Twilight. I figured that'd be enough incentive for you guys to get off your butts and look into this."
"Being a little hypocritical, ain't ya? What, can't be bothered with anything that doesn't have to do with the Ghost anymore? I knew you had tunnel vision, but sheesh."
"I never said that this had nothing to do with that case. In fact, I think there's more going on here than meets the eye."
"That's funny coming from you," Owl tittered. "How is the eye anyway?"
"It'd be better if somepony hadn't tried to teach their dog how to use a grill," Limbo growled.
"Hey, to be fair, Mr. Wiggles cooked those burgers to smoky perfection."
"Sorry to interrupt," Samba chimed in, "but is the Ghost involved or not?"
"Yes."
"No."
Limbo and Owl glared at one another.
"What exactly makes you think they're involved?" Owl inquired challengingly.
"Because I hardly think it's a coincidence that Trixie tried to get their attention and somepony else ends up kidnapping her."
"You really are desperate for leads, huh? There hasn't been any new information on the Ghost in ages, Limbo. Stop grasping at straws."
"Well, have you entertained the idea that our culprit might not be a unicorn?"
Owl scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You saying that because of the kirin kid? Come off it. That whole thing is just your own theories and delusions. We here at the station figured out a long time ago that your guess about the victims' spells is just a big coincidence. The kirin doesn't move the case forward in any way."
"You're just saying that because you're bitter that I've made more progress on the case since I left the force than you guys did since the case opened. Sizzle Conifer is the first outlier that's cropped up."
"You think that kid is the first outlier?"
Limbo quirked a puzzled eyebrow.
Owl sighed with a little frustration, but not towards Limbo. "There's one thread in that case that has never made sense to me. You might call us around here lazy, but I've been wracking my brain over something that doesn't fit in this case."
"And what might that be?"
Owl looked her dead in the eye, almost accusingly. "Your friend Poe."
The adamant expression Limbo had been shooting his way finally faltered. "Poe?"
"Yeah. As far as we know, she doesn't know any special spells either. So, assuming that there's merit to your hypothesis, why would the Ghost target her?"
Samba tilted her head. "Isn't it because—oof!" She was discreetly jabbed her in the ribs by Limbo to shut her up, along with a silent glare. Samba backpedaled quickly once she realized what she'd almost just revealed to the cops, struggling to cover her tracks. "I-I mean, the Ghost probably just... has a grudge against Limbo. Right? That makes sense, doesn't it?"
Owl stared quietly and inquisitively at Samba, eliciting a few beads of nervous sweat from the dancer. "Plausible, certainly. Kidnapping her best friend as a threat could have been an attempt to make her back off, but I think it'd be naïve to take that as one hundred percent how it is. After all, doing so has only served to double Limbo's efforts. Ain't that right, Limbo?"
"I still think my theory holds water," Limbo claimed, trying to deflect the issue. "On that note, can we get back on track? Trixie's gone missing, and the culprit wants the money tonight. I can't exactly get a hold of fifty thousand bits myself, let alone in that amount of time."
Owl flicked a hoof dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, cool your jets. Hey, Scribble! Get on this, would ya?"
He balled up the ransom note and tossed it to the mare filing her hooves, tagging her in the head. She unfurled it and looked it over.
"Ooh, these clippings are from Cosmopolotan," Scribble remarked.
"Not the words, the money," Owl corrected with a groan. "Get in contact with the mayor or something."
Scribble rolled her eyes with an exaggerated groan as she laboriously got up from her desk. "Sure, whatevs," she muttered disinterestedly as she shuffled her way out.
"I'm joining you on this case too," Limbo asserted.
Owl ran a hoof down his face. "As much as I'd like to see your indignant face when I say no, I'm already tired of arguing with you. So do what you want, I don't care. Just don't get in the way and try to keep the snarky comments to a minimum."
Limbo grinned slightly, relieved to hear him not put up a fight on this. "Alright. Then I'll meet you guys at the harbor tonight."
"Whatever. Now, get outta my sight. We got a lot of work to do for this."
"Don't have to tell me twice," quipped Limbo as she lead Samba back outside, more than happy to put some distance between her and her testy former colleague.
Samba offered a friendly smile and a wave in the hopes of at least partially offsetting Limbo's attitude. "Nice meeting you."
Night Owl just responded with a halfhearted flick of his hoof.
***** ***** *****
The first thing Limbo did when she and Samba returned to Limbo's apartment was, unsurprisingly, turn on the coffee pot. She had had a pretty focused look in her single silver eye, and that didn't escape Samba's notice; the hurried gait with which they made their way back and Samba's sore legs were a sure sign of something she'd become familiar with about the undead detective in the short time she'd known her. Night Owl called it tunnel vision, and that seemed apt enough, proving that this wasn't just a recent addition to her list of personality quirks.
But now that they were back, Samba had something she wanted to say. She cast Limbo an apologetic and regretful frown. "Sorry for almost slipping up back there. I wasn't really thinking."
Limbo waved it off. "Don't worry about it. I'm actually more concerned about the fact that Owl's been suspicious of Poe—and by association, me—for a while now. He obviously thinks I know something that he doesn't, but then again, I know a lot of things that the B.P.D. doesn't."
Samba joined Limbo in the kitchen, placing Limbo's new kettle on the stove and turning on the burner to prepare a cup of tea. "So, you're worried that he's gonna find out about the necromancy spell, put two and two together and figure out you're dead, right? I guess as a cop, he'd be obligated to tell Princess Twilight, and then you'd be... you know... Un-undead. Re-deadened? They... They'd have to kill you again, is what I'm getting at."
"Like I told you before, my life—or whatever play on words you prefer—doesn't matter anymore. I'm not really afraid of going back to being a lifeless corpse because there's a moral dilemma there."
"What moral dilemma? You're breaking the law, aren't you? You said it yourself that the law dictates that you'd have to be... uh, whatever the word for it would be."
"Yeah, but it's up to Princess Twilight whether or not she'd actually go through with it. I didn't ask Poe to bring me back. Taking my second life away could be seen as the same as just killing me again. An execution essentially. I doubt the princess would have the heart to do that, and Owl might be a snide dingus, but he isn't cruel. He wouldn't want to see me dead."
"Well, technically, he's already seen you dead, he just doesn't know it."
Limbo grimaced, bemused. "What'd I say about that kinda stuff?"
Samba blushed awkwardly. "Sorry."
"The point I'm getting at is that if Owl found out, Poe would have to be arrested, assuming she's still alive. And doing that to somepony after they'd been kidnapped would be more cruel than executing me, in my biased opinion anyway."
The kettle began to whistle, and Samba fixed herself her tea. "You don't think Owl would be willing to give her some leeway?"
"It's not his job to give people leeway. Honestly, if Princess Twilight did decide to take my gifted life away, I wouldn't argue. I'm a law enforcement officer too, so I'd understand. I don't want Poe to go to jail because she did something wholly altruistic. That's not justice to me."
"Then why is it a law?"
"To prevent people from abusing it," Limbo answered as she poured her coffee. "People would have no regard for life if we could just freely raise the dead. That being said, it's an old, kinda outdated law. Necromancy itself is basically a forgotten art, and nowadays it would be up for debate if the associated punishment is considered ethical or not. Really, I just want to avoid all that hullabaloo," she said with a exasperated and dismissive flick of her hoof. "Keeping this a secret isn't gonna hurt anypony, that's all I'm saying."
"I gotcha. I'll try harder to keep my lips zipped," Samba said with a smile. "Anyway, what's the plan for when we get down to the harbor tonight?"
Limbo cocked an eyebrow. "'We'?"
Samba hesitated at the accusatory stare Limbo was giving her. "What?"
"Samba, you're just my assistant, remember? You don't have any sort of police training like I do. I'm fine with letting you help with information gathering, but you're not qualified to be involved in a hostage situation."
The dancer's gaze drifted to the floor, and she lowered her head. "Oh... Well, it's just... I wanted to help you so I could do something meaningful and prove to myself that I'm not a waste of space. And it's tough considering that even the zombie who has no regard for whether or not she gets to keep living has more to contribute to the world than I do... I feel like I haven't been helping at all. I've just been a tagalong this whole time."
"We've been over this. The changes you're looking for aren't gonna happen overnight, Samba. You've only been working with me for a few days. Just have some patience. I mean, I've been chasing the Ghost since the beginning and haven't actually made a ton of progress, yet I'm still persevering." Limbo flashed a grin. "Besides, you were the one who threw it out there that the Ghost might not be a unicorn."
"But we don't know if that's actually true," Samba admitted dejectedly.
"Psh, you think that means anything?" Limbo scoffed. "We don't know anything for certain. I've mostly been operating on theories and assumptions for the whole case. Who knows? This 'maybe-not-a-unicorn' thing could be the breakthrough we've been looking for once we find answers for all the other questions that that's brought up."
Samba sighed, twirling her wavy mane with her hoof. "Okay, I'll try to be a little more optimistic," she claimed in a less-than-optimistic tone.
"Well, hey, how about I leave Webber here to keep you company while I'm gone?"
Samba drew back slightly. "Um, I'm not sure if that'll help."
"Nonsense. You two need a little time to get to know one another anyway. Hey, Webber, come out here."
Samba made sure to quickly look away this time as Webber crawled out from Limbo's eye socket and she set the spider down on the kitchen table. Samba locked eyes with Webber, both of them looking a little pensive—or she assumed Webber felt the same.
"How exactly are we supposed to get to know each other? He can't talk," Samba inquired.
"You'll learn his body language eventually. Trust me, it's not hard." Limbo downed the rest of her coffee, pouring up some more in an insulated container. "Anyhoo, I'll give you two a head start while I head down to the precinct and discuss the plan with Owl."
"What? Right now?" said Samba in surprise.
"Yeah, why not? Ain't got much else to do until tonight," Limbo said with a shrug as she headed for the door. "Oh, and, Webber? Be nice, okay? I don't want to come back tonight and find you smooshed because you decided to scare her for fun."
Webber just lifted a leg slightly in acknowledgement.
Limbo opened the door. "Alrighty, then. Have fun you two. Let's hope I can get more info about the Ghost from this."
"And save Trixie," Samba reminded her.
"Who? Oh, right. Yeah, yeah, sure."
That dismissive sentiment was the last thing she said before shutting the door behind her, leaving Samba and Webber alone for the night. Samba glanced awkwardly at the spider.
The night air around the harbor of Horseshoe Bay was still, yet salty. Under any other circumstance, the quiet lapping of the salt water against the wharf and the hulls of the large fishing vessels and cargo ships, and the white lights of both the full moon and the tall, bright lamps illuminating the wharf in the darkness of the night would be relaxing and calming, but the particularly strong odors offset the peacefulness of the night and effectively wrinkles the noses of any creature not accustomed to it.
Also, the squadron of police officers didn't exactly add to the atmosphere in any positive way.
The entirety of the Baltimare Police Department were peppered throughout the area, combing the wharfs halfheartedly. They'd been hanging around there for half an hour at this point, mostly confused and impatient. However, the one person with them who was not an officer—at least, not anymore—wasn't present at the moment, but was just arriving.
Limbo sauntered casually across the wharf, sipping from her insulated mug. Seeing as the cops were busy not knowing what they were supposed to be doing, she figured she'd go for a refill on coffee while she let them do their thing. She found several of the officers congregated around one area at the edge of the wharf, including Night Owl, who was looking more than a little frustrated. Limbo saw exactly why so many cops had gathered in one spot, that being the large box of donuts.
"Really? Donuts?" Limbo said to Owl. "You guys are just perpetuating all the stereotypes these days, huh?"
"Says the caffeine-dependent detective," he quipped back. "What did I say about the snarky comments?"
"There was no snark there. I'm just a little disappointed in you guys."
"Forgive me if I'm not broken up about disappointing you."
"So, any luck?" Limbo asked with a slurp of her coffee.
"Does it look like it?" Owl groaned in annoyance. "Guy leaves a ransom note telling us to come to the harbor and make the exchange, but doesn't specify where exactly he's waiting for us. Nopony's seen hide nor hair of anypony here other than us."
"Have you checked any of the plants or storage buildings?"
"All the doors we've checked are locked. This guy's an amateur for sure. When you're making demands, you can't be vague like this. Makes it harder for everypony involved."
"But makes it easier to take a lackadaisical approach, right?"
Owl glared at her through narrowed eyes. "You wanna get off you pedestal for five minutes?"
"I just don't agree with the plan here. You really think the kidnapper is dumb enough to accept I.O.U.s? This is a hostage situation. A person's life hangs in the balance here."
"I didn't hear you proposing any ways of getting fifty thousand bits in such a short time frame. Even Mayor Highstrung couldn't organize that much for us. And we don't exactly have any way to contact this kidnapper to negotiate an extension."
"I'm just saying, we're taking a risk here."
"The risk would be not showing up at all. At least by being here we can try and negotiate something, maybe get them agree to do this tomorrow night instead or something. You know, assuming we actually find out where they are!" Owl snapped at his subordinates, their muzzles and beaks coated in glaze and powdered sugar.
"Sarge! We found something!"
A pair of earth pony mares—one cobalt blue, one cherry red—hurried across the wharf and over to the sergeant, their full-bodied manes that matched the color of the other's coat bouncing with each step.
Owl prepared a frustrated snarl just in case. "I swear to Celestia, Paddy, if this is about another freaking jellyfish or some crap..."
"Nuh-uh, Sir," one of the mares—Paddy Wagon, the one with the blue coat and red mane—said with a shake of her head, her mane swaying back and forth. "Not this time, I promise."
"Then out with it."
The other mare, who Limbo knew was Paddy's twin sister Siren, with her red coat and blue mane, held out a piece of paper with some tape stuck to the corners. "See? Lookit!"
Owl snatched the paper from them and analyzed it. All it said was "PrEsS," spelled out in magazine clippings like the ransom note. He scowled at the pair of them. "I hope you remember where you found this."
Siren hesitated. "Uhhh..."
"I do, Sarge!" said Paddy excitedly. "It was somewhere down that way." She pointed down to the end of the wharf, presumably around the corner of the processing plant.
Limbo gave Owl an arched eyebrow. "Really? Nopony checked down there while I was gone?"
"These two were supposed to, but probably got distracted by a fish jumping out of the water or something," Owl chided.
"It was pretty though," Siren argued.
"Just lead the way," grumbled Owl, signaling for the rest of the officers to follow them.
Paddy and Siren lead the force along the wharf until they reached a locked door with a sign that read, "AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT. ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK."
"You sure this was where you found it?" asked Owl, doubting the twins' ability to recall the details.
"Yep." Paddy slapped the paper back onto the wall, the reapplied tape barely able to hold it there again. "It was right next to this intercom."
Indeed, there was an intercom on the wall next to the door, protected from the salty spray of the ocean by a transparent cover.
"So the kidnapper wants to communicate with us through this, I guess," Limbo inferred. "Makes sense. They probably don't want to reveal themselves to us."
"Alright, let's just get this over with," said Owl. "Siren, hit the button."
The mare turned to him in surprise. "Huh?! M-Me? Uh, 'kay." She flipped the cover open and tapped the button, then waited. "Um... Nothing's happening, Sarge."
"It's not a buzzer, Siren. Seriously, we have walkie-talkies that work the same way. Hold it down to talk."
"Oh." Siren did as she was instructed, leaning in to speak through the intercom. "Hellooo? Anypony home?"
Owl rolled his eyes, running a hoof down his face. Limbo couldn't help but snicker.
When there was no response, Siren turned to Owl again, a little worried that she'd done something else wrong. "Th-There's no answer."
"Maybe they're in the bathroom," Paddy postulated.
"Just keep trying until we get a response," Owl ordered, thoroughly exasperated by this whole ordeal already.
***** ***** *****
Limbo's apartment was practically dead silent, the only sound a brief, tired yawn from the detective's assistant. Limbo had left to accompany the police in the afternoon, and now it was almost two in the morning. It wasn't like Samba wasn't used to staying up this late, but she had been waking earlier lately because of this new job. She was also accustomed to idling the afternoon hours away, but that usually involved going out and finding something to do. Samba couldn't exactly do that right now because she was technically on the clock right now, plus she and Webber were supposed to be keeping one another company. No way in Tartarus was she going to go out on the town with a spider crawling on her back.
So, she'd been looking for anything she could do to occupy her time. The television on the kitchen table was the obvious choice, but for some reason, Samba could not, for the life of her, figure out why there was no color, nor how to fix it. Either way, she couldn't find anything on that was particularly interesting to her, so she'd just left it on a station that was airing random sitcoms for background noise.
The other option was to actually try and be a good assistant and clean up the apartment. Limbo's office looked like a hurricane had struck a news stand. Random papers and news articles had been strewn throughout the apartment; on the desk, on the dining table, the couch, the floor. The problem was, Limbo seemed like the kind of mare who had a sense of organized chaos, so Samba had no idea how to go about organizing this stuff. She kind of felt like messing with Limbo's files and documents might be overstepping her bounds anyway.
So what else could she do? The only option left was to make a cup of tea and actually try to interact with her company. To that end, Samba had managed to find a deck of cards in one of the kitchen drawers, and now she and Webber were engaged in a battle of wits at Limbo's desk.
Webber had five cards placed face down in front of him. He tilted one up to check it, then flipped it over to show Samba the two of spades.
Samba, sitting with her own cards against one hoof and head leaning lazily on the other, simply responded with a somnolent, "Go fish..."
Webber stared at her vacant expression for a moment, then scurried over to Samba and pulled down her cards. The spider was quick to point out that she possessed a two of clubs.
"Oh. Sorry, I guess I'm not really paying too much attention," Samba apologized.
Webber just sat there, glancing back and forth as though he, too, were pretty bored.
"I mean, if you've got any other suggestions on how to pass the time, I'm all ears."
The spider didn't really move.
Samba stared at Webber. She was still a little unnerved whenever he would stare straight at her, his unmoving form keeping her just a teensy bit on edge, but it wasn't like she didn't trust him. Webber apparently had a history of being both mischievous and a little temperamental, but he'd been pretty agreeable and chill all day, just kind of minding his own business for the most part.
The mare took a slow sip of her tea before letting out a quiet sigh. "I feel like I'm not helping as much as I could, you know?" she admitted to the spider, voicing what had been on her mind all day. "Limbo said that you help her out during investigations, right? I think she said, like, infiltration and reconnaissance? What does that say about me if a spider is more help to her than I am?"
Webber took a step forward, causing Samba to flinch defensively.
"O-Okay, sorry, I didn't mean to insult you." Samba ran a hoof through her mane, twirling the strands. "I just want to help more. You were there when I introduced Limbo to Rhapsody, right? I've never exactly been a reliable person. I can't even take care of my own kid properly. All I want to do is make myself even a slightly better person, but how am I supposed to do that when I'm just sitting around doing nothing?"
Webber turned around and crawled off the desk.
Samba just sighed with a shake of her head. "Look at me, airing my grievances to a spider. I must look like a crazy person."
She watched as Webber scuttled over to the door, turning around to look back at her. Samba straightened up in her seat, quirking an eyebrow at him.
"What? You suggesting we go anyway?"
Webber then climbed the door, stopping next to the handle.
Samba got up and walked over to the door, looking Webber in all eight of his little eyes. "We can't just go after her. Like she said, it could be dangerous."
Webber just tapped the handle insistently with one of his legs.
Samba bit her lip apprehensively. It was true that she wanted to help Limbo, but she also didn't want to get herself hurt or possibly killed. The thought of getting assaulted, stabbed, burned, bludgeoned, or strangled was enough to give her pause.
But that was the root of the problem. She wanted to change—to be more like Limbo—but how could she do that if she was only thinking about herself? This whole endeavor shouldn't be about herself, it should be about the people she cares about: Rhapsody and Pirouette. Limbo was a martyr, with no regard for her own wellbeing when others' lives were on the line. Samba just needed to do what she did when she asked if she could work with Limbo; just suppress the thoughts in her head that were holding her back for even a few seconds, long enough to make the decision.
Samba mentally prepared herself with a long, deep breath. Her internal desire to better herself waged a brief war with her sense of self-preservation, and for just a short moment, the former held the advantage. She stared with determination at Webber, nodding resolutely.
"Alright, let's do it."
Despite her words of self-encouragement, Samba didn't move. She just stared at the spider, who was staring back expectantly. She might have worked up the courage to throw caution to the wind this once, but she still hesitated to pick up a spider. That required yet another breath to prepare herself, holding out a hoof and closing her eyes.
"Just hurry up."
Webber crawled up her leg, making his way to her back where he came to rest.
Samba shuddered, an icy chill running up her spine at the feeling of his eight spindly legs crawling over her coat. "N-No offense, Webber, but... Ew, ew, ew..." she whined with an uneasy wince as she exited the apartment. "We cannot get to the harbor fast enough."
***** ***** *****
The wharf of Baltimare's harbor was quite large, extending most of the way across the southern shore. It made sense, of course; Baltimare was Equestria's largest port town, and, prior to Princess Twilight Sparkle taking up the throne, was from where the majority of the kingdom's exports shipped out, especially before the invention of the airship. But in the last twenty or so years, Baltimare had also developed a rather lucrative fishing industry. While ponies obviously didn't eat meat, many of Equestria's neighbors—such as griffons, hippogriffs, and changelings—did. As such, it behooved Equestria to provide its allies with resources that may have been difficult to acquire themselves. For instance, Griffonstone, the capitol of the Griffon Empire, was located at the peak of a tall mountain range, so seafood had been more of a luxury there before the formation of the Allied Kingdoms of Equestria. So now Baltimare was also Equestria's primary exporter of seafood products, the many large buildings at the harbor serving as either warehouses, cold storage, or processing plants.
All of that is to say the place pretty much perpetually smelled like salt and fish guts.
Samba's nose was curled the whole time since she'd arrived at the harbor. She didn't live terribly far from the wharf, but far enough that the odors didn't really reach, so being there in person was a little overwhelming on her olfactory senses. Still, she soldiered on. As large as the wharf was, she knew the cops were nearby, as she had passed their carriages along the way.
However, Samba's steps were apprehensive and a little shaky, and she glanced back and forth as though suspected she they weren't alone. She took a deep, unsteady breath, which didn't go unnoticed by the spider sitting on her back. Samba felt a light tickle on her back as Webber tapped her, looking at him over her shoulder. If she had to venture a guess, the look on his face was perhaps inquisitive.
"Sorry, I guess I'm just a little on edge," she admitted, keeping her voice quiet. "The last time I was out this late, some maniac tried to attack me." Once again, she looked around nervously. "And now I'm out here actively trying to stop a potentially dangerous kidnapper. M-Maybe this was a bad idea after all. Like Limbo said, I don't have any training. I couldn't beat somepony in a fight. I'm worthless to everypony here. I should probably just go home before I get hurt."
She was about to turn tail and leave, but Webber tapped his legs repeatedly on her back to stop her, pointing one leg forward demandingly.
"Come on, Webber, I'm actually kinda scared here," Samba pleaded. "Besides, Limbo and Night Owl are professionals. They don't need me here getting in the way."
Once again, Webber just pointed forward.
Samba paused. She had been quick to backpedal on her choice to come out here. Leaving now wasn't going to accomplish anything. She took another breath, this time to steady her nerves. "You're right... You're right. Change can't happen if you don't take risks. Gotta just... be brave and push forward. Don't think, just do. Don't think. Just do."
She took a step forward, immediately tripping over an unseen rope on the ground and faceplanting, the fall causing Webber to be flung off her back as well.
Samba pulled herself up with a pained groan. "Okay... Maybe think a little."
She stood back up, shaking it off and continuing on her way. Webber followed from the ground, weaving around the puddles here and there.
As Samba navigated between the warehouses and processing plants, she eventually began to hear voices to break up the silence of the night. She peered stealthily around the corner of the building she was next to, spotting a group of police officers as well as Limbo standing at a door and fiddling with an intercom. Samba made the decision to hang back unseen and figure out what they were doing.
A cherry red mare with a blue mane was repeatedly tapping the button on the intercom. "I think it might be broken or something."
"They wouldn't tell us to use it if it was broken," Owl argued, his forehead starting to turn red from how often he'd placed his hoof there already.
"Maybe there's a password," a blue mare with a red mane speculated. She pressed up next to the other mare and pressed the button. "Open sesame."
"That's not how an intercom works," Limbo corrected. "Even if it was, the kidnapper never gave us a password to use."
"We just gotta guess. It's probably something tricky, right?" the blue mare said.
Limbo smirked. "Tricky for you would probably be just making your phone password 'PASSWORD.'"
"Ha, show's what you know. My password's 'NOTPASSWORD.'"
The red mare nudged her. "Paddy!"
"Huh? Oh, shoot! Uh, I mean... Oh, sugar... Ah, I'll just change when I get home. I already got a clever one in mind."
"Lemme guess: 'NOTNOTPASSWORD," Limbo snickered.
Paddy blinked. "N-No. Er, well, not anymore."
Owl pressed his head against the sheet metal siding of the building with a long groan. "Somepony just kill me and end this night, please."
Samba pulled back around the corner once more, looking at Webber, who was lingering on the wall beside her. "Uh, I'm not sure what they're doing, but it's probably a bad idea to let them know I'm here. They'll probably just make me go home and Limbo won't be too happy. So what do I do?"
Webber turned around and skittered across the wall of the building. Curious, Samba followed him around to the opposite corner, between the plant and the cold storage building beside it. Webber had lead her to a set of stairs leading up to a door.
"I mean, there's no way that's unlocked, but it couldn't hurt to check," said Samba as she and Webber ascended to the door. She tried the handle, but there was no give. "Figures. What now?"
Webber began to scurry up the wall. Samba looked up to find that a window near the roof was slightly ajar, allowing just enough space for the spider to fit through. Samba simply waited after Webber disappeared into the building. After a few moments, she heard a metallic clatter. On a whim, she tried the door again, and it actually opened. She opened it slowly, poking her head in. Webber was waiting on the walkway inside, a metal pin sitting next to him that he'd apparently pulled out of the latch on the door.
"Wow, you really are an infiltration specialist, huh?" Samba whispered with an impressed smile. "I can see why Limbo relies on you."
Webber waved the compliment off with a modest flick of his leg. Samba wondered if he would be blushing if he could.
Samba didn't fully enter the building just yet. She cautiously looked around, though it was difficult to see in the darkness. What she could make out was that she and Webber were on an elevated walkway overlooking the large interior of the processing plant. Below them were many machines and a network of conveyer belts used for processing the seafood the fishercreatures brought in to port.
The only light source in the building currently was to the right of where Samba was. It appeared to an overseer's office, overlooking the production that would normally be happening below. The interior was clearly visible through the large window stretching across the front of the room. In fact, Samba was could see a blue pony inside.
"Hey, that's Trixie!" she exclaimed, though still kept her voice down.
She was about to hurry over to the office, but halted and ducked back outside when she heard somepony else's hoofsteps. Samba spotted somepony climbing up a staircase close to the entrance of the office. She couldn't tell who they were from this distance or in this lighting, but either way, she decided it best to hang back for now, unsure what she could do with the potential kidnapper right there.
Through the window, Samba watched as the kidnapper spoke to Trixie, though obviously she couldn't hear what they were saying. But their back was turned to the window, so Samba and Webber took the opportunity to sneak over to the door, the mare discreetly peering through the window on the door. Her eyes widened when she finally saw the kidnapper: a grey unicorn stallion with an ashy white mane and a half-melted candle for a cutie mark. She ducked down out of view again.
"Oh, wow. It's that guy that was in line behind us. Huh. You know, that actually makes sense now that I think about it. Geez, I knew some guys took rejection pretty hard, but resorting to kidnapping isn't gonna win her over. Guess my advice didn't do much in the end. Hm. Come to think of it, I could've been in Trixie's position if it wasn't for Limbo that night. What would you call that? That's not irony, right?" she asked, looking to Webber.
The spider just gave her an uncertain shrug.
Samba poked her head up again to see what the two were doing. Trixie was actually tied to a chair and had a piece of cloth in her mouth as a gag, though, oddly, she wasn't struggling or panicking in any way. She almost seemed bored. Maybe there was credence to Limbo's assumption that she wanted to be kidnapped. The other thing that Samba noticed was the strange, silver ring on Trixie's horn. It was probably safe to assume it wasn't a wedding band, as she hadn't been wearing it earlier.
The kidnapper suddenly jumped as though something had startled him. For a moment, Samba thought he might have spotted her, but he instead hurried over to a console on one of the desks on the opposite side of the room.
Meanwhile, outside the building, Limbo, Night Owl, and the other officers were still busy trying to get in contact with the kidnapper. Siren was repeatedly pressing the button on the intercom as fast as she could until she eventually stopped, out of breath.
"Hoo... Okay, how many was that?" she asked.
Paddy scratched her head. "I think, like, fifty? Maybe?"
"Come on, Paddy! You were supposed to be counting! You can't estimate because you're afraid I'll beat your record."
"Guys, I really don't think the intercom turns on if you 'just push it a bunch,'" Limbo said with an exasperated sigh.
"How do you know?" Siren argued defensively. "At least me and Paddy are trying something. You've just been sitting there making fun of us."
Limbo rolled her neck. "Alright, then let me have a crack at it." She shoved the two of them aside, pushing the button and leaning in to the intercom. "Hey! You in there or what?! We ain't waitin' all night!"
After only a moment, a stallion's voice finally came back over the speaker. "Oh, geez! I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here already! I-I was in the bathroom!"
"Oh, hey, I was right," said Paddy.
"Nice job, Limbo," Siren complimented with a genuine smile.
Owl finally stood up from his defeated and exhausted sitting position. "About freakin' time." He pushed Limbo aside to use the intercom, much to the detective's hypocritical chagrin. "Listen up. You've got a lot of nerve to leave a ransom note demanding an exchange and not even setting a time to meet. It's three in the friggin' morning, you dunce! What, were you in the bathroom for six hours or something?!"
"I-I said I'm sorry!" the voice called back defensively.
Limbo pursed her lips in thought. "Why does that voice sound familiar?"
"Look, we need to discuss this whole situation," Owl demanded. "You're obviously new to this kidnapping stuff, so let me explain a few things to you about how this is gonna go down, got it?"
The group could hear an audible gulp over the speaker. "O-Okay..."
Back inside the processing plant, Samba watched as the kidnapper spoke to somepony through the console on the desk. He looked pretty uneasy, sweat starting to run down his face as he spoke rather frantically with the person on the other end, whom Samba assumed must have been the cops. She couldn't quite hear what was being said through the door, but it looked and sounded like he was receiving a stern talking-to. All things considered, the guy seemed pretty much like he was when Samba spoke to him earlier that day: passive and nervous. For a kidnapper, he wasn't coming across as threatening at all, which might explain why Trixie didn't seem particularly concerned with her situation.
Still, Trixie needed to be rescued. The police were here to simply give this guy fifty thousand bits in exchange for Trixie's release. Obviously he wasn't planning to turn himself in after making the exchange, so there'd still be a criminal on the loose. Given this guy's rather submissive attitude, maybe Samba could help without having to put herself in any danger.
Samba slowly and quietly checked the handle of the door, but the kidnapper had locked it behind him, perhaps in case the cops decided to rush him. She carefully scanned the room while he was still distracted by his discussion with the police. Eventually, she spotted a key sitting on another desk close to the door. That alone didn't do her much good as long as she was locked out, so she kept looking. Samba looked up to the ceiling and spotted a ventilation duct stretching across the length of the office, wall to wall. And almost directly above Trixie was a grate. Samba's eyes followed the duct toward herself, noticing that it extended through the wall above her. Coincidentally, there also happened to be another grate above her as well, not that there was much that she herself could do with it.
"Psst. Webber."
The spider followed her pointing hoof to the vent.
"You think you can sneak in there and get the key without getting spotted?"
Webber wasted no time skittering up the wall and slipping through the grate into the vent. All Samba had to do now was wait. She cautiously peered inside again, the kidnapper still apparently receiving a firm verbal lashing based on his meek and wimpy posture.
After a few moments, Webber exited the grate in the office, rappelling down on a nearly invisible thread of webbing. However, he happened to be descending right in front of Trixie, and the moment the bound mare spotted the spindly spider, her disinterested demeanor suddenly shifted, her pupils narrowing as she stared at the arachnid just inches in front of her face.
Outside, Night Owl was continuing to firmly explain the situation to the kidnapper.
"I know you don't want to hurt Trixie, kid. We can't get the money on such short notice, so why don't you just let her go, turn yourself in, and we might go easy on you."
"I-I can't do that. I d-don't want to go to jail at all."
"Maybe you should have thought about that before kidnapping somepony," Owl growled through grit teeth, growing increasingly impatient.
"I-I..."
"Mmph! Mmgh!"
Limbo quirked an eyebrow. "Wuzzat?"
"Hm? O-Oh, that's just Trixie. Hey, calm down, it's just a spider."
Limbo's eye widened. "A spider?" A sudden realization of what that might mean came over her. She shoved Owl aside abruptly to commandeer the intercom. "H-Hey! More important things going on right now! Forget the spider, yeah? Pay attention to us!"
Inside, Samba breathed a sigh of relief. The kidnapper had seen Webber, but seemed to pay the spider and Trixie's panic no mind and returned to his negotiations.
Trixie couldn't remove her eyes from the spider, watching it shakily as it landed on the floor in front of her and scurried over to the desk to the left. Webber crawled up the wall, onto the desk, and over to the key the kidnapper had laid there. Trixie could only stare in utter bewilderment as the spider affixed the key to its abdomen, using its silk like makeshift rope, then climbed back up the wall, across the ceiling, and disappeared into the vent again, leaving the captured mare more than a little flabbergasted.
Samba waited until Webber returned, the spider quickly descending from the outside vent and untying his acquisition. Samba took the key with a pleased giggle. "Nice job, Webber. Hey, we make a pretty good team, don't we?"
Webber pointed to the door.
"Oh, right. Guess I actually have to do something before I can say that." Samba looked at the key in her possession, ruminating on what she was about to do. She took a deep breath, knowing that there was risk involved. "Well, here goes nothing."
Back outside, Owl was still arguing with the kidnapper through the intercom. "Alright, I'm getting pretty fed up with this. We don't have the money with us, we've explained that."
"I-I specifically said to bring fifty thousand."
"We've been through this! There was nothing specific about your note! That's why we need to do these negotiations."
"B-But... I-If you don't have the money... I c-can't guarantee Trixie's safety."
"Oh, please, I can hear your vocal chords quivering. You don't have the guts to hurt her."
Limbo rolled her eye. "Oh, yeah, goad the kidnapper. Real professional there, 'Sarge.'"
"Am I wrong? You think he's got the cojones to do it?"
"It was more a comment on your bedside manner than his conviction, but I'm not gonna say I disagree with you."
"Y-You guys shouldn't just write me off like that. I've got knife in here. Uh, somewhere... Where'd I leave th—Gyah! Wh-Where did—Huh?! Y-You?! Wh-What the hay are you doing here?!"
Owl quirked an eyebrow at the kidnappers odd reaction. "Uh, you okay in there kid?"
Limbo had a feeling she knew what was happening, gesturing for the cops to follow her. "Let's go! There's definitely a way in somewhere, we've gotta get in there now! Move, move!"
Owl grabbed her by the hoof, pulling her back. "Hey! These are my officers. They follow my orders." The other cops just stared at him expectantly. "Well? What are you all waiting for? Go!"
The squad of officers rushed around the building, Limbo leading the pack. If she was right about what she thought was happening inside the processing plant, then she knew a door had to be open somewhere. The first one they came across was up a set of stairs, so she and the police force hurried up, barged through the unlocked door, and immediately ran toward the lit office.
Night Owl took the lead from there, busting the door open. "Freeze! You're under—huh?"
The culprit that they'd been negotiating with through the intercom was already laying on the ground, shivering and covering his head with his hooves. "D-Don't hurt me! Please!" he pleaded pathetically.
Owl next turned his attention to the beige mare he hadn't expected to see there, too befuddled to say anything.
"Hey, guys," Samba greeted casually.
Owl just glanced between Samba and the cowering kidnapper. "The hay is going on here?"
"Maybe save those questions for later, Owl," Limbo suggested. "Just apprehend your criminal."
"Don't tell me how to do my job," Owl sneered, grabbing the kidnapper roughly and forcing him to his hooves. He passed the culprit along to his fellow officers, who slapped some cuffs to his legs to prevent him from making a break for it and escorted him outside to the carriages.
Samba removed the gag from Trixie's mouth, the magician breathing an exasperated and less-than-grateful sigh.
"About time," she huffed. "What took so long?"
"You're welcome," Limbo deadpanned sarcastically.
Trixie stuck her nose up at her as Samba loosened her bindings, allowing her to stand again. "It's not like I needed your help anyway. Given a little more time, I'm sure I could have made my own grand escape. I'm just saying, most law enforcement departments wouldn't have so much difficulty negotiating with such an inept kidnapper."
"Says the person who got kidnapper by said kidnapper," Owl reminded her.
"Let's not give the guy too much credit," said Limbo. She shifted her gaze to Trixie, the blue mare flinching slightly under her accusatory glare. "We know that you were trying to get targeted, Trixie. Somepony said that you 'randomly cancelled' the meet 'n' greet today. I'd be willing to wager that this was barely even a kidnapping. He probably just showed you the note, you said 'finally,' and just voluntarily walked off with him to humor your own ego. How far off the mark is that would you say?"
A slightly embarrassed blush filled Trixie's face, and she puffed out her blushing cheeks indignantly. "Hrm... Fine, yes, are you happy now?"
"What is wrong with you?" Owl chastised. "That punk could barely get a sentence out without quivering. There's no reason you had to go through this, and make us go through this."
Trixie lowered her head slightly, looking surprisingly remorseful. "Can you blame me? Barely anypony remembers who I am. My best friend gets all the accolades as headmare of one of the most prestigious schools in the kingdom, my rival has gone on to become ruler of all Equestria. And where does that leave me? A guidance counsellor. Not that I dislike my job, but I just don't get the same recognition I used to anymore. The name Trixie Lulamoon has faded into obscurity..."
"Becoming a damsel in distress probably isn't gonna help your reputation, you know," Samba pointed out.
Trixie's lifted her head again, huffing in frustration. "The plan was to make a daring escape on my own using my magical prowess, rescuing the Ghost of Baltimare's other victims in the process and once again being seen as a hero in the eyes of the public. But not only did that loser slap one of these inhibitor rings on me, which made escape more complicated, but it turns out he's not even the Ghost. So all of this was just a colossal waste of my time."
The other three ponies looked at the silver ring affixed to Trixie's horn curiously.
"I was wondering what that was," said Samba. "So, I'm guessing an inhibitor ring prevents you from using magic?" She turned to Limbo and Owl for an answer, but the two of them both seemed a little vexed as they stared at the ring.
"Yes," Trixie answered in their stead. "And I would appreciate it if somepony could remove this so I can go home, please. I'd like to just forget that this happened."
"Well, you'll have to wait a little longer," Owl informed her. "Inhibitor rings don't come off that easily, so you'll need to come back to the station with us." He leaned in authoritatively, though Trixie didn't budge. "Besides, we need to have a talk about your part in all this. You're not exactly an 'innocent bystander' here."
Trixie just rolled her eyes. "Fine, let's just get this over with."
Night Owl escorted Trixie out, leaving just Limbo and Samba in the plant's office. Samba was first to speak before Limbo had the chance, her ears folding back apologetically.
"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, Limbo. But it didn't feel right to just sit around and do nothing."
Limbo scratched her head with a groan. "Look, I get it. I'm not going to claim I haven't done reckless junk in the past, even back when I still had a life to risk. I guess the least I can do is postpone the scolding until after we deal with the kidnapper back at the station." She smiled proudly at her assistant. "Besides you did good. If you hadn't shown up, this whole thing would have been drawn out at the very least."
Samba blushed with a bashful grin. "Uh, well, I can't take all the credit. I had some help."
"Speaking of which, where is Webber anyway?" Limbo asked, looking around the office. "I know that spider the guy saw was him."
Webber revealed himself by crawling out of Samba's silky mane, having hidden himself within her luxurious locks.
"I wouldn't have had the gumption to come here if he hadn't encouraged me. Well, more like pressured me, but apples and oranges."
Limbo chuckled. "Yeah, he's a bad influence, but a good friend. Anyhoo, let's get out of here. This place smells rank, and that's something coming from a mare who's flesh is partially rotted. Come on, Webber."
Limbo stuck out her hoof for Webber to climb onto her and into her eye socket, but the spider instead retreated back into the silky confines of Samba's smooth, wavy hair.
"I think he finds my mane more comfortable."
Limbo lowered her hoof again, a little surprised. "Oh. Well, I guess it's nice to see you two hitting it off, but I didn't expect you to allow him to use you as a nest so soon."
Samba noticed the look on her face and smirked. "Limbo... Are you jealous?"
Limbo scoffed, snorting rather loudly and defensively. "Jealous? What? No. Why would I be jealous? You're jealous. Shut up. Let's go."
Samba giggled. "Sure."
***** ***** *****
Samba waited quietly and patiently, she, several officers, and even Trixie staring through the one-way glass into the interrogation room. The only sounds that could be heard were a tired yawn from one of the officers and the clopping of Night Owl's hooves through the intercom as he paced back and forth.
Every now and then, the bat pony shot a venomous glower at the young stallion seated across the table, causing the kid to flinch and crack his already flimsy shell further. Limbo simply watched him in silence, rolling her one eye while she waited for the sergeant to actually get started. Owl stopped pacing for a moment and glanced down at the spellphone and wallet laying on the table containing the identification of their apprehended criminal. He glared harshly at the unicorn, the narrow slits of his pupils drilling a hole through the shaky perp.
"Wick Nimble, huh?" Owl practically growled, repeating the name displayed on the stallion's I.D. He slammed the table, startling the stallion. "Alright, I'm gonna let you in on a little something. I wasn't in a great mood from the start of the day because a certain somepony showed up and dropped this case on me." He shot a look at Limbo, who simply flashed a condescending grin back at him. "But it's now four a.m., and I know I might be a bat pony, but even I don't like being up this late. So we better get this over with quick, or I can't promise this won't get ugly."
Limbo leaned on the table, also glaring at the captured kidnapper—Wick Nimble. "I don't often agree with Owl, but I'm with him on this. You got a lot of explaining to do, so I suggest you talk fast to avoid ticking us off."
Wick glanced back and forth between his two interrogators, an uneasy bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. "I-I don't know why you guys are doing the whole 'good cop, bad cop' thing. I'm being totally compliant here. And isn't good cop, bad cop supposed to have... you know... a good cop?" he gulped.
Limbo scoffed. "Tch. You'd be hard-pressed to find a good cop in this city."
"You wanna dial down the snark for two minutes?" Owl snapped at her, gnashing his short fangs. "The only reason you're in here is because I don't have time to tell you to leave."
"Then you won't mind if I start with the questioning," Limbo asserted. She turned to Wick. "Alright, I'm just going to cut to the chase here. What's your connection to the Ghost?"
"Ghost?" Wick echoed in confusion. "What are you talking about? What ghost?"
Limbo slammed the table, perhaps more aggressively than necessary. "Don't play dumb! I know you have some sort of tie to the Ghost of Baltimare!"
That only served to puzzle the perp further. "Wait, that Ghost? I-I don't have anything to do with them, I swear!"
"You expect us to believe that?" Owl questioned skeptically.
Limbo gave Owl a slightly astonished look. "What, you're on my side all of a sudden? Weren't you insisting earlier that I was grasping at straws?"
Owl didn't remove his gaze from Wick. "Trixie herself confirmed to us that the only reason she went with you is because she thought you were the Ghost of Baltimare, looking to validate her self-perceived importance by making a 'grand escape,' or some crap."
"I can hear you, you know," came Trixie's voice through the intercom.
"Um, you're not supposed to touch that, Miss," the voice of Siren told her.
"Hey, get your hooves off—"
Night Owl just shook his head as the intercom turned off, returning his attention to Wick Nimble. "So, you gonna claim she said nothing to that effect?"
"She didn't, I promise! She just said some stuff about being 'great and powerful,' that's all. Just sounded like she was bragging. I guess that explains why she was so agreeable, but, to be honest, I was still kinda relieved when I finally gagged her."
"Preach," mumbled Limbo.
Owl looked across at their reflections in the one-way window, in Trixie's general direction. "Can you confirm that, Miss Lulamoon?"
He received mostly silence, but there was some distinct grumbling coming through.
"Trixie," Owl repeated more firmly.
There was another moment of silence before her voice came through. "I was told not to use the intercom."
"Just answer the damn question!"
"Hmph, fine, no need to get snippy." Trixie sighed, reluctantly answering his question. "But, yes. I suppose I never outright mentioned the Ghost of Baltimare in his presence."
"So you're really claiming this has nothing to do with the Ghost?" Limbo asked once more.
"I swear," Wick reiterated, raising his hoof solemnly. "I don't wanna do or say anything right now to make this worse for myself, so I'm being one hundred percent honest."
"Then what exactly was your reason for kidnapping her? Just the money?" Limbo inquired.
Wick shrugged, lowering his head with a sigh. "Basically." He twiddled his hooves sheepishly. "I, uh... I recently graduated high school, but I have absolutely no idea what I want to do with my life. Real life is kinda terrifying. I worked at the Mango store at the mall for a bit, since I felt like I knew a fair amount about spellphones. Uh, apparently not as much as I thought, though, since I got fired after a week. So I just resorted to what I thought was gonna be a simple job down on the wharf."
"Guess that explains how you had access to that place," said Limbo.
"Well, I actually stole the manager's key, so I'm guessing I'm probably gonna get fired from that job too."
"I think that's the least of your worries," Owl deadpanned.
"A-Anyway, I was just super desperate for money. I hated my job down there. I just wanted out and was willing to do anything to get money without having to work an awful job."
"And you resorted to kidnapping and ransom," Limbo inferred. "Bit of a big leap there for a kid so young."
"Trust me, I wouldn't have done something that drastic if it weren't for that guy."
That caught the attention of his interrogators.
"'Guy'? What guy?" Limbo probed, leaning on the table.
"You saying you have an accomplice?" inquired Owl.
Wick drew back as the two of them inched closer, their eyes drilling into him. "Uh, w-well, not exactly."
"Is it the Ghost?!" spat Limbo, practically climbing onto the table.
"N-No! Er, I mean, I don't know. I don't know who he was!"
Owl pulled Limbo back to give the nervous unicorn some room to breath. "Explain," he demanded tersely.
Wick took a deep breath. "Okay. Uh, so, I got home from work one day, and I found a piece of paper somepony had slid under my apartment door. I guess whoever it was knew who I was, because they seemed to know how stressed I was and desperate for cash. The note said to meet at a pub downtown."
"Wh-What pub?" came Samba's voice over the intercom.
Wick pursed his lips as he tried to recall. "Uh... I think it was called... 'The Brewery'? Maybe?"
"That's where you work, right, Samba?" asked Limbo
"Uh, y-yeah..." Samba confirmed quietly.
"We're interrogating Wick right now. Let's focus on this 'guy' for now, alright?" Owl interjected.
"Oh, o-okay. Sorry."
Night Owl stared directly at Wick. "Anyway, what happened when you went to meet him?"
"Uh, well, I guess I should start by saying I never actually met the guy face to face. The note specified exactly where I was supposed to sit. We were sitting back to back in adjacent booths, so I only heard his voice."
"What did he tell you?" asked Limbo.
"Not much. He really just discreetly confirmed that he was the one who left the note and not to turn around, then passed me an envelope with his wing that had the inhibitor ring and detailed instructions on how to perform the kidnapping. The target, the time and place, the method. He really did all the work. I just had to put the ransom note together and actually kidnap Trixie. But he probably wasn't expecting Trixie to actually go along with it. It was actually a lot easier to pull off than he made it sound."
Limbo stepped forward, waving her hoof. "Whoa, whoa, back up a second here. You said, 'with his wing.' He was a pegasus?"
"Uh, maybe. I guess he could've been a griffon or a hippogriff, but like I said, I never actually saw him other than the wing, and it was too dark in the place to pick out the color of his feathers."
Limbo rubbed her temple in frustration. "No, no, this can't be right..."
Owl placed a hoof firmly on her shoulder, directing her attention to him. "Limbo, don't go jumping to conclusions just yet. We don't know if this guy is the Ghost or not. Let's get some more details before we start making assumptions."
The detective hesitated, finding it difficult to not fixate on this possible complication. But she took a breath and nodded. "Right, right. What about the ring, then? Inhibitor rings are typically only available to law enforcement. So where'd he get it?"
"I called Hole Punch on the way back and he confirmed that all of our station's rings are accounted for," Owl informed her. "Some sports leagues use the rings to give unicorns or other magic users a handicap, but athletic inhibitor rings don't have locks built into them. Trixie's does, so the one that he put on her either came from outside the city, or directly from a manufacturer."
Limbo quirked an eyebrow at Wick. "You said you worked at a Mango store, right? Mango Inc. is one of the leading manufacturers of inhibitor rings."
"I worked there for a week!" Wick repeated defensively. "We didn't have access to anything except phones and computers!"
"It's possible that your contact is tied to Mango Incorporated, but even that's a longshot," Owl grumbled. "That company has thousands of employees in Baltimare alone."
"Owl."
The bat pony turned to Limbo, her pale, silver eye full of certainty and focus.
"We can't rule out the idea that this mystery person is the Ghost."
Owl groaned, shaking his head at her stubbornness. "I know you said you think the Ghost might not be a unicorn, but by your logic, shouldn't they be somecreature that can use magic? Besides, would the Ghost really leave a trail like this? This contact of his might be more seasoned in the kidnapping thing, but since when has the Ghost recruited helpers to do their dirty work for them?"
"I'm... still working that out..." Limbo muttered. "But I still insist that the Ghost is involved in some way."
Owl rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure, keep chasing that goose. We'll see where you end up."
"So, uh..." Wick meekly interjected. "Since I was so cooperative, is my sentence gonna get reduced?"
Both Owl and Limbo glared harshly at him.
Wick shrunk back, gulping nervously. "I'll take that as a no."
Owl ran a hoof through his mane with an exasperated sigh. "Alright, I've hit the limit of my patience, so we're just gonna lock you up for the night and call it quits. We'll deal with the court stuff tomorrow."
With that, Night Owl traipsed out of the interrogation room, Limbo following behind him to join the other officers in the viewing room.
"Paddy, Siren, show the kid to his room," Owl ordered wearily.
The twins saluted simultaneously, escorting Wick Nimble out of the area and to the holding cells.
"The rest of you, you're dismissed. Go home, get some sleep," he told the rest of his team, stifling a yawn himself.
The present officers took their leave with relieved looks on their faces, leaving just Owl, Limbo, Samba, and Trixie. The latter of which was about to leave as well, but Owl held out a hoof to stop her, challenging her offended gawking with a stern glower.
"Sorry, but you're staying here overnight too, Miss Lulamoon," he informed her.
Trixie balked at the assertion. "What?! I'm the victim! You can't treat somepony who was just kindapped like this, least of all The Great and Powerful Trixie!"
Owl glared, unamused and clearly fed up with this night. "We're not ignoring the fact that you were complicit in all this. So consider this 'correctional therapy.' But I'll tell you what: if you're as 'great' an escape artist as you claim to be, break out. You manage that, I'll let you go, no questions asked."
Trixie lifted her nose with a confident smirk. "Hmph, child's play. Just remove this ring first."
Owl said nothing else, and just turned around to leave.
"Hey! Where are you going?! You can't leave this thing on me! Get back here!" Trixie demanded, chasing after him.
With everything said and done, that just left Limbo and Samba. The two of them took their leave of the station in silence, only the sound of Trixie's belligerent insisting audible in the otherwise quiet police station. Thankfully, that would be rectified once they stepped outside to return to their respective homes.
Samba let out a long sigh, a small smile of relief gracing her lips. "Phew. Quite a night, huh?" She noticed Limbo casting her a reprimanding glare, and she shrunk back with a gulp. "I guess it's time for that scolding now, huh?"
"I told you it could've been dangerous. You were just lucky that Wick kid was a total wimp," Limbo chastised.
Samba's ears folded back remorsefully. "I know, I'm sorry. But I really couldn't just sit around and do nothing. It didn't feel right given what I'm trying to accomplish."
"Putting yourself in harm's way isn't how you should be going about making yourself a better person."
Samba hung her head shamefully. It felt weird to Limbo to be talking to her like she was an unruly child, especially considering that Samba was actually a parent and she wasn't. Maybe that was part of the underlying problem, but Limbo wanted to help however she could. To that end, she offered a smile.
"But, as I already said, you did great."
Samba lifted her head, her ears perking up at the congratulations.
"I mean, in the end, the guy was a complete pushover, but you didn't know that. It was pretty brave to do what you did, even if it was haphazard. The whole thing might've actually gone sour if you hadn't shown up, but that's really Owl and the force's fault for not getting the ransom money like he asked. At the very least, your interference prevented this thing from being dragged out. It might've been reckless, but I guess I'm a hypocrite for giving you crap about that. I'll give you credit for this one."
Samba blushed with a bashful grin. "Uh, thanks. To be honest, I was afraid I'd screw this up royally. And I wouldn't have had the courage to go through with it without Webber."
Limbo furrowed her brow, directing her attention to the eight eyes peering out between the silky strands of Samba's mane. "And don't think I'm going easy on you, mister. I'm not ignoring the role you played."
Webber retreated into his keratin nest to escape her scolding.
"What, you think you can escape by stowing away to her place for the night? Fat chance. Get over here."
Webber slinked back out, reluctantly crawling onto Limbo's hoof and onto her back.
"Don't be too harsh on him," Samba requested.
Limbo stared at the pleading smile on her face and let out a huff through her nostrils. "I won't put him in the bathtub at least. But only because of you."
The pair reached an intersection on the street where they needed to part ways to return to their respective apartments.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Samba bid her.
"Yep. And be ready for some discussions. There was a lot of info tonight that we need to go over in detail."
"About the Ghost? You really think that they were Wick's contact?"
"I know there's some inconsistencies, but we still can't rule it out. Something was off about what he said. But like I said, that's a discussion for an hour that's not outrageous."
"Right. Goodnight, Limbo."
Limbo hesitated as Samba was about to walk away. "Uh, hey, you want me to walk you home? I mean, it's pretty late and dark."
"Huh?" It took a moment, but Samba quickly realized why she'd offered. In truth, it hadn't even occurred to her until Limbo reminded her of the night they first met. Samba responded with a courageous shake of her head, but also a grateful smile. "No thanks. I think I can manage."
Limbo smiled back, sensing a newfound confidence in her friend. "Alright, then. See you tomorrow."
Limbo and Samba stared at the map of Baltimare on the wall. A new face had been added amongst the photos of the Ghost's victims, but this person was not a victim himself. Limbo had posted a picture of Trixie's kidnapper, Wick Nimble, over Horseshoe Bay, along with a few different sticky notes of information. She hadn't bothered to pin a picture of Trixie up there, partly because she wasn't a victim of the Ghost, but mostly because she didn't want to look at her face any more than she had to.
"So, you're still confident that the Ghost is involved?" Samba inquired, reiterating the doubt still lingering from last night, as well as fighting off her sleepiness with a long yawn.
"Obviously it's not one hundred percent, but we have to take what we can if there's even a chance that it could bring us closer to the truth," Limbo said as she took a sip of coffee.
"But Wick said his contact was avian, right? A creature with feathered wings. I don't know of any creature like that that can use magic the same way unicorns can."
"Well, we can narrow that down at least. I believe our mystery contact was a pegasus," Limbo posited.
"How do you figure that?" asked Samba with an arched eyebrow.
"If the guy was a griffon or hippogriff, he could have passed Wick the envelope with his claw. But instead, he used his wing."
"Maybe he didn't want Wick to know exactly what species he was."
"Then why use his wing at all?" Limbo questioned. "All that does is narrow down what race he is, which makes him a little easier to track down. He could have just dropped the envelope into Wick's booth, or on the floor for him to pick up."
Samba tapped her chin quietly as she thought about Limbo's words.
"Wick also said that he assumed this guy knew who he was, which would imply that he knew at least a little about the kid's personality. I know if it was me in the mystery person's position, I wouldn't trust a guy like Wick as far as I could throw him."
"Wait, so you think he revealed himself as a pegasus on purpose?" inferred Samba.
"And that's why I think this is the Ghost," Limbo asserted assuredly.
"But it's like Owl said: the Ghost wouldn't leave info like that behind, would they?"
"Unless they were deliberately trying to throw us off the scent."
Samba scratched her head, growing more and more confused the longer Limbo went on. "But... that doesn't make sense. How does that push us in the wrong direction? If anything, it only makes it easier for us, right?"
"While the possibility certainly exists that I'm completely wrong about the Ghost's involvement, even if they aren't, there's still a criminal out there that needs catching for acting as Wick's accomplice. But, assuming this is the Ghost, the only reason for putting that information out there would be because they knew Wick would fail and blab to the cops about everything he knew."
"And what do we get out of that?" asked Samba, curious as to where Limbo was going with this.
Limbo looked her in the eye with utmost seriousness. "It's entirely possible that the Ghost could be a changeling and was trying to make us think they're a pegasus."
Samba's eyes widened. "Oh. I, uh... I never really thought about that. Mmm... I hate to say it, but that actually makes sense now that you explained it like that. Is this profiling, though? I'd feel kinda bad for suspecting a changeling."
"It'd be unfortunate if it was. I never liked it whenever I've had to arrest changelings for abusing their shapeshifting magic, but there are always going to be individuals who think they can get away with it, and their whole culture suffers for it. One bad apple spoils the bunch, as they say."
"There are laws in place about shapeshifting, right?"
Limbo shrugged with a sigh. "Yeah, and that's a whole thing on its own. Those laws are deemed by some as being unfair, and those people claim that we're not treating changelings equally. It's not like shapeshifting is outright illegal, but changelings entering Equestria are required to carry I.D. on their person when out in public, and if they do shapeshift, for whatever reason, they also need to be accompanied by somecreature who can confirm their identity. A changeling roaming around by themselves is not, under any circumstances within the kingdom, allowed to shapeshift in public."
"I can't really imagine any circumstances where a changeling would need to shapeshift for any practical reason," Samba said, trying to think of any legitimately application for the ability.
"And that's exactly why some people view the ability as having only criminal purposes," Limbo mentioned with a solemn sigh. "It's unfortunate that we live in a time that some people refer to as a 'golden age,' and there's still this inherent mistrust towards people who are supposed to be our allies—especially considering the changelings' sordid history. Those laws are constantly being reviewed and amended to try and be as fair as possible, but as long as there are those who still use shapeshifting to actively break the law, these rules are going to remain in place. That's the sad reality of it, and I, as a law enforcement officer, have to endure the backlash when I have to uphold those laws."
Samba's ears folded back regretfully. "Well, I hope we're wrong about this."
"Me too, but it's what makes the most sense given the info we have. Trust me, it's an unfortunate catch twenty-two, but you just have to approach it from a purely professional standpoint. Upholding the law is what's important in this situation, even if it means being judged and chastised for it. I'll arrest a law-breaking changeling if it means saving the lives of a dozen people."
"I'm... going to choose to just not think about it," Samba uttered, feeling conflicted.
"Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if this is the lead I've been looking for, then we're gonna have to go with it."
"We can't just interrogate every changeling in Baltimare. There might not be as many of them as there are ponies, but there're still a lot living in this city."
"That's why we need to narrow it down. If the Ghost is a changeling, it would make sense that they'd try to misdirect us by pretending to be a pegasus specifically, as there are certainly more pegasi living in the city than griffons and hippogriffs combined. It'd take us longer to suss them out. At least with this theory we have a better shot at finding them in a reasonable amount of time."
"What's the plan, then?"
Limbo scratched her head, humming in thought. "Hrm... Well, I'd like to try and get more info out of Wick Nimble, but he's probably wrapped up in his court hearing, and no doubt Owl's not done with him yet. So, for the time being, it might behoove us to pay another visit to town hall, maybe poke around the citizen records and see if we can find anything useful."
"Alright." Samba glanced around the apartment, looking for something. "Where's Webber? I haven't seen him today."
Limbo knit her brow. "He's not coming today. I'm putting him on timeout for encouraging you last night, so he's locked in the closet."
Samba frowned with regret and concern. "That's a bit harsh, isn't it? What if he gets hungry?"
Limbo flicked her hoof apathetically. "Don't worry about him. He stashes most of the flies he catches in a web in the closet, so he's got a stockpile that's more than enough to last him the day. He'll be in a foul mood when we get back, but he's more bark that bite." She downed the last of her coffee and headed for the kitchen. "Lemme just get a refill and we'll get going."
***** ***** *****
After a brief stop at a local coffee shop for a bite of breakfast, Limbo and Samba arrived at town hall and made their way to the mayor's office. It wasn't surprising to see Bubble Gust as busy as a bee, but she was fluttering here and there at a rather brisk pace for a creature her size. She was lugging papers around that threatened to carry her away, like moving a sheet of plywood on a windy day, except there was no wind.
"You seem busy, Gust," Limbo commented, distracting the breezie from her work.
Seeing that she had company, Bubble Gust touched down on her desk to take a breather. "Hm? Oh, no, I am just reorganizing some things to kill time."
"Slow day?" Samba presumed.
Bubble Gust shook her head with a smile. "Just the opposite. I have a full day ahead of me. Leaf and I are attending the Magi-Tech Expo shortly."
Limbo cocked an eyebrow. "Magi-Tech? The hay is that supposed to be?"
"It's an annual convention held here every year."
Limbo and Samba turned around to find Loose Leaf entering the room.
"It's basically an event where experts in the fields of magic and technology share new findings or patents or what have you," Leaf continued. "The two communities used to be rivals, always scheduling their conventions at the same time and the same place, and they'd argue with each other over it. Until one year when they decided to try splitting the convention center between them. Went over pretty well, and the two communities started working together from there to arrange the annual Magi-Tech Expo."
"You sound like you know a lot about it," Samba inferred. "Are you a regular attendee?"
Leaf shrugged somewhat indifferently. "I kinda have to be. My brother usually has a panel there every year and he always asks for my help."
Samba frowned at his apathetic tone of voice. "You don't want to help your brother?"
"It's not that, it's just..." He sighed, shaking his head. "We've been over this before. I'm happy to help him out and everything, but it just becomes, 'Oh, it's so nice of you to come to support you brother,' or people asking me if I have any insider knowledge of what his company is doing. It gets a bit tiring, you know?"
"Right, I guess I can understand that," Samba said sympathetically.
"So, what, you two are just taking the day off to go hang out at a convention like a couple of nerds? You guys gonna cosplay too?" Limbo teased with a chuckle.
"It's not that kind of convention, Limbo. It's more of a business thing. More professional. Probably wouldn't be up your alley," Leaf corrected with a mocking smirk.
"Hey, professionalism is the reason I quit the force. I bet you I could out professional all the dorks at that convention, including your brother."
"Right, because calling people 'dorks' is real professional," Samba deadpanned with an eye roll.
"And we're not taking the day off," Gust added. "I am going in order to do a little reconnaissance for Mayor Highstrung."
"Reconnaissance? How's that?" Samba questioned.
"Like Leaf said, Mango Career is going to be there. I am scoping out the competition for the reelection. It may be a magic and technology convention, but considering he is running for mayor, I expect the topic of politics will be brought up at some point."
"Sounds like a fun day," Limbo commented disinterestedly. "Anyhoo, we were hoping to have another look at the citizen records. Can you help a girl out?"
Bubble Gust shook her head as she fluttered up into the air. "No can do. Leaf and I are about to leave, so we are locking the office until we get back."
"What about the mayor?" asked Limbo curiously.
"He is out on other business right now. I am sorry, Limbo, but we cannot help you. You will have to wait until tomorrow," Gust stated firmly. She then flashed a friendly grin. "You are welcome to join us at the convention. I'm sure Leaf could get you two some extra passes."
Leaf grimaced at her assertion. "Really? You're just gonna put that pressure on me, Gust? How much pull do you think I have?"
Bubble Gust glided over to Leaf, tapping his muzzle with her tiny hoof. "If your brother is as helpful and handsome as you are, I am sure it will not be a problem."
The comment elicited an awkward blush from the stallion.
"Don't know what being handsome has to do with it," muttered Samba.
"I think Limbo and Samba have better things to do than hang out with a bunch of business creatures at a crowded convention hall," Leaf presumed.
"You're right about that. We're hot on the trail of the Ghost, so I ain't putting that on the backburner just to listen to people argue about why the new version of the spellphone is worth an extra hundred bits."
Bubble Gust shrugged, flittering toward the door. "Have it your way, but you have to leave now."
Limbo and Samba followed Gust and Leaf out of the office.
Limbo sighed as they walked down the hallway, a little frustrated. "Man, this sucks. We've made so much progress on the case since last night. Now we can't browse the citizen records, and Wick's too wrapped up in his stuff. We're gonna lose momentum at this rate."
"I mean, if there's nothing else we can do about it, why not just go to the convention with Leaf and Bubble Gust?" Samba suggested.
Limbo observed the small smile on Samba's face and the eager look in her pink eyes. "Got your own interests in mind there, do ya, just like with Trixie's magic show?"
Samba blushed, a little embarrassed that her intentions were so easily discerned. "Um, well... I-If there's gonna be magic related stuff there, I might get something useful for Pira, that's all."
"I really don't want to have to put this off just because it looks like we can't proceed. And I'm just not interested in sitting around just to see what superficial tech Mango Career is gonna dangle in front of his shareholders to boost his stock prices."
Samba pursed her lips in thought. "Speaking of Mango Career, you guys said that his company makes those inhibitor rings, right?"
Limbo's ears suddenly perked up.
"Weren't you speculating that the Ghost—or at the very least, Wick's contact—might work for Mango Inc.? I wonder if we could get Leaf to ask him about that."
Limbo blinked as the notion sunk in. Without warning, she bolted ahead to catch up to Leaf and Bubble Gust. "Hey, guys! About those passes!"
***** ***** *****
The Magi-Tech Expo was being held at the Baltimare Convention Center, an enormous building used often to host large events. It was still fairly early in the morning, but even so, the place was bustling with activity. Hundreds of people were gathered there already, inundating the area with the loud and unending drone of countless incomprehensible conversations.
Akin to what Leaf had described, the expo appeared to be nearly split down the middle. All the booths pertaining to magic related stuff were set up throughout the west wing of the building. That area was populated mostly by unicorns, with the scatter kirin or changeling in the mix. But magic was a broad field, and extended to things like potions and artifacts, making the field accessible even to those who couldn't naturally use magic on their own, so there was still a healthy mix of other creatures hanging about as well, maybe even people similar to Samba who just had an interest in the subject.
Conversely, the east wing was like watching a sci-fi movie. Booths and cases showing off the latest tech were lit up brightly, nearly every piece glowing with built-in lights cycling through different colors. Computers were still a relatively new advancement in Equestria, but it seemed like the tech used to build them was progressing at an exponential rate, and enthusiasts were always looking to upgrade whenever new, better parts were released.
Either way they were to go, Limbo felt very out of place there. To the left were mostly uptight, scholarly historians, while to the right was just a heaping helping of tech geeks.
"Yeesh, look at this place," Limbo complained with a grimace. "Just nerds stacked to the nines here. Doesn't help that I can smell every one of them. Probably didn't even need my perfume this morning. I'd blend right in anyway." A particularly sweaty stallion brushed past her as she said that, eliciting a grimace and a wrinkled nose from her. "Ugh. My natural odor might even be more pleasant that this."
"You're exaggerating. It's not that bad," said Samba. She swept her hoof around, taking in her surroundings with almost child-like wonder. "This place is amazing! Imagine all the cool stuff they have here! I kinda wish I could've brought Pira. She'd love this stuff. I might keep my pass as a souvenir," she giggled, flicking one of the two lanyards around her neck that Leaf had graciously provided for them, the second belonging to their diminutive companion since it weighed more than she did.
"She is not wrong, though," said Gust. "We breezies are a little more delicate than I care to admit. The atmosphere in here might shrivel my wings if we stay too long."
"I figured you'd stick with Leaf while you were here, and not just because of Mango Career," Samba tittered with a coy smirk.
"Trust me, I would, but he has special privileges since he's helping his brother with his presentation. I will have to wait until the Q&A to ask him anything."
"What's his presentation about anyway?" asked Limbo. "I mean, not that I care about all this nerdy tech stuff. Just curious since he's one of the biggest wigs in business."
"I cannot say exactly what it is, but I did manage to get Leaf to spill that his brother is supposedly unveiling something 'big.'"
"'Big'? That's all he said?" Samba repeated, feeling a little unsatisfied.
"He did not want to be responsible for information being leaked." Gust rubbed her hooves together menacingly. "But I will probe Career for as much info as I can squeeze out of him when I get the chance."
Samba drew back slightly. "You can be scarier than a spider I know sometimes, Gust."
Gust quirked an eyebrow. "Spider?"
"Don't listen to her, she's crazy," Limbo interjected, giving Samba a reprimanding jab in the withers, receiving an apologetic look in response. "So, when's this presentation anyway? I actually have a few questions for Mr. Career myself."
"I believe it should not be long from now. We have time to look around first. There should be an announcement when it is about to begin, then we can head to the main stage."
Bubble Gust pointed across the convention center. Past all the booths and displays and the sea of people was a large stage—the only one not confined to a conference room where the event's other panels were to be held. Limbo and Samba both began to wonder if they should just start making their way over there now, since it looked like it would take at least an hour to weave through all the displays and wriggle through the dense crowd of people.
"I'm not really interested in partaking in the local 'culture,'" Limbo expressed with slight disgust, grimacing at several of the unkempt convention-goers. "So I guess you're in charge on this one, Samba."
Samba grinned eagerly. "Well, I definitely wanna check out some of the magic stuff. I'd like to have some things to talk to Pira about during our monthly weekend together."
"Sure, whatever, let's go."
While they didn't have a particular destination in mind, the trio began to meander toward the west wing of the convention center looking for something that at least caught Samba's eye. It was a little surprising to them to see just how many people were gathered on that side of the building in comparison to the tech wing. Considering Equestria's technology progressed at a much quicker pace, whereas magic has been studied for countless years already, leading to some degree of stagnation, anypony would expect the latest inventions and technological advancement to garner more attention.
But the further into the area the three went, the denser and louder the crowd became. It was starting to get difficult to even move without brushing shoulders with another creature.
"Uh, maybe this was a bad idea," Samba admitted as she and Limbo managed to squeeze into an open space on the floor large enough for the two of them to breath. "I didn't expect it to be this crowded. Are conventions always like this?"
"I have not been to many, but I have never seen a crowd this large congregated in one area outside of a panel," Bubble Gust noted. "Let me see if I can spot a better route."
Gust then fluttered up higher to get an aerial view of the convention center. Samba and Limbo watched as she looked around, but eventually it seemed like she was just staring off in one direction and no longer moving.
"You see something?" Limbo called up to her.
"I, uh... I definitely see something," she replied in an awestruck tone. Gust floated back down, an incredulous look on her face. "You two are going to want to see this."
Samba and Limbo shared puzzled looks, but decided to follow Bubble Gust to a spot where their vision wasn't obscured by booths and displays. And it didn't take long for them to spot what had caught her attention, similar expressions adorning their faces.
Some distance away, at the epicenter of the cluster of people where the gathering was densest, a lone figure stood out from the crowd. They stood out because they were so much naturally larger, their long, graceful neck craning above the other con-goers. It took absolutely no guess work to discern the person's identity: an alicorn with a coat of lavender, long, flowing mane that resembled the sky at dusk with its soft blue coloration and pink highlights, and her golden royal regalia emblazoned with the image of her cutie mark—a six-pointed, pink starburst.
"Holy crap!" exclaimed Limbo in shock. "Is that Princess Twilight?!"
"Now I really wish I could've brought Pira," Samba breathed, star-struck. "I guess that's as good a reason as any for this place to be so crowded."
"What in the world is she even doing here hanging out with all these sweaty nerds?" questioned Limbo suspiciously.
"You don't know much about her, do you, Limbo?" Samba inferred.
"As much as I need to," she huffed in response. "Why?"
"From what I've heard, Princess Twilight is both an ingenious scholar of magical arts and a pretty big techie in her own right."
Bubble Gust nodded. "Ya, and I hear she has some connection to Mango Career as well, and even had a hoof in inventing the modern spellphone."
"Huh. Really? Didn't know that," said Limbo.
"Come to think of it, do you even have a spellphone, Limbo?" asked Samba. "Pretty much everycreature has one these days, but I've never seen you use one."
Limbo scoffed with a flick of her hoof. "Pfft, nah. I'm pretty tech illiterate, if I'm being honest. I can't even figure out how to fix the color settings on my T.V. I tried using Poe's phone once and 'bricked' it. She didn't even know how I managed that with just a few taps, but I had to buy her a new one regardless."
"What about you, Gust?"
The breezie just cast a deadpan stare back at Samba.
"Oh, right. Probably a little impractical for you, huh?" Samba chuckled awkwardly. She turned back to the princess, still pretty flabbergasted by her unexpected presence. "I wonder if we could get the chance to meet her."
"She seems to be happily indulging all those people around her," Gust noted.
True enough, Princess Twilight appeared perfectly content conversing with the myriad creatures intruding on her personal space. She didn't even have any royal guards to hold back the masses and was smiling and chatting like this was her natural environment.
"But we would probably be here 'til next week waiting for our turn," Limbo presumed. "Probably better to not waste our time holding out hope."
"Well, just in case we don't..." Samba took out her spellphone, reared up on her hind legs to hold it above the crowd, and snapped a pic of the princess. "Pira's gonna be so jealous," she giggled as she stared at the picture.
"Well, maneuvering around here looks like it's gonna be a pain in the patootie as long as the princess is here," Limbo complained, beginning to lose interest at an ever-increasing rate. "Any other suggestions?"
"I have one," Gust chimed in. "We have obviously all come here for different reasons, so why not just split up for now? We could just do whatever takes our fancy and meet up at the main stage when we hear the announcement for Career's presentation."
Limbo shrugged. "As good an idea as anyway. You cool with that Samba?" She glanced to her partner, but she was no longer there. Limbo only managed to catch sight of a wavy, blonde tail disappearing into the crowd in the general direction of the princess. "Okey dokey, then. Guess that's settled. I suppose I'll see you when the presentation starts, Gu—" But Bubble Gust was already fluttering away over the crowd like a leaf on the breeze. Limbo sighed with a roll of her eye. "Yeah, sure, that's fine, whatever. Now I've just gotta find something to occupy my own time. Almost wish I wasn't already dead so I could look forward to dying of boredom..."
***** ***** *****
With a plan to reconvene later in place, Samba was more than willing to make an attempt to meet Princess Twilight in person now that she knew she wasn't holding back her companions. They could do whatever they wanted to do in the meantime, which meant she could impatiently navigate the labyrinth of creatures surrounding her. She wasn't even bothered by the stench of sweaty people mixing their body odors; she'd developed a tolerance to that sort of thing working at the pub and dealing with people who stunk of booze and occasionally vomit.
The only problem Samba had to deal with now was what she was going to say if or when she did get to meet the princess. She didn't exactly trust herself to not develop a case of mush mouth in Her Highness's presence. So what should she say? Princess Twilight seemed like an accommodating and down-to-earth individual for royalty. Samba didn't doubt that she'd give everypony who wanted to talk to her a spare minute, but she also didn't want to waste the princess's time with inane gushing.
Samba poked her head up above the crowd to gauge her location relative to the princess. It really felt like she wasn't getting any closer. Forcing her way through a crowd like this felt like swimming upstream; it felt like you were moving forward, but the current was actually holding you in place, or even steadily driving you backwards.
A sigh escaped from Samba's lips, and she managed to squeeze herself out into a small space to give herself some room to think. She was beginning to think that maybe this wasn't a great idea. Princess Twilight may have had a smile on her face, but that was probably to be polite to all the people who were so honored to meet her. More than likely, she was pretty worn out by the deluge of questions. Maybe the most courteous thing Samba could do right now was leave her alone. There was no need for Princess Twilight to waste her valuable time on somepony as insignificant as her. Samba didn't feel like she deserved even a second of the princess's time anyway.
Now that Samba had sufficiently tanked her own self-esteem, she figured it was just as well to shuffle her way back and try to meet up with Limbo again.
Samba turned around to do just that, but ended up bumping head first with another con-goer. "Oop, sorry, I—grk!" Samba felt a tight tug on her neck, finding that her two lanyards had become intertwined with the other person's in the collision. "Oh, shoot. Uh, I can fix this." The dancer began to fumble with the tangled lanyards, but her haste and clumsy hooves only resulted in an even more elaborate knot. She blushed awkwardly. "Uh... Maybe not..."
"Let me," said the mare she'd bumped into, smiling patiently.
The three lanyards became enveloped in a golden aura, and in only mere moments the knot came undone, allowing the two unicorns to space themselves more than a few inches apart.
"Sorry about that," Samba apologized with an embarrassed grin.
"No problem. Bound to happen in a place this crowded."
Now that Samba wasn't all up in this mare's grill, she could see that she was a rather young mare, maybe not long out of high school. She had a vibrant pink coat and golden irises. Her mane looked a tad unkempt, but something told Samba that that's how she preferred it, what with how it was partially tied into a small ponytail. The coloration of her mane and tail was a subdued orange and yellow, matching her cutie mark of a sunset over a watery horizon.
The young mare glanced down at the lanyards around Samba's neck. "Two passes? You have a split personality or something?" she giggled.
"Huh? Oh, no, one belongs to my friend. She's a breezie, so it's a little heavy for her. Now that I think about it, I guess she probably shouldn't be wandering around without me. She might get in trouble."
The other mare waved it off. "It's probably no biggie. If she needs it, she can track you down. You said she was a breezie, so it shouldn't be hard for her to fly up and call out to you, right?"
"Fair point. Oh, my name's Samba." She politely held out her hoof to the stranger. "Sorry, for bumping into you."
"Like I said, don't worry about it," the mare responded, shaking Samba's hoof. "I'm Luster Dawn."
Samba paused, tilting her head after hearing the mare's name. "Luster Dawn... Why does that name sound familiar?"
A slight, bashful blush tinged the younger mare's cheeks. "Well, it might be because I'm Princess Twilight's student."
A lightbulb clicked on in Samba's head suddenly. "Oh, yeah, that's right! I heard the princess had a protégé. That's you?!"
"Uh, 'protégé' might be a bit much. We just have a close student-teacher relationship," Luster claimed, though her body language suggested she may just be being modest.
"That's quite the coincidence, though. I was just trying to see if I could meet the princess, and I end up bumping into her student. Uh, literally."
"Really? Cuz it kinda looks like you're headed in the opposite direction."
Samba glanced over her shoulder. Indeed, Princess Twilight was some distance behind her, still entrapped within the legion of creatures bombarding her with questions. Samba's ears folded back slightly. "Oh, yeah, well... I... changed my mind, that's all. She seems busy, and I figured she didn't need me distracting her more than she already is."
"Psh, you kidding? She loves talking to people. Making friends is how she became a princess in the first place."
"I guess, but still..." Samba responded with a resigned sigh. "I don't want to bother her. I'm guessing she has an important reason for being here."
"I dunno about 'important.' Mango Career invited her, so she came to watch his presentation." Luster leaned in to whisper to Samba, smirking playfully. "But just between you and me, I think the real reason she was so eager to accept the invite was because she just loves all this tech stuff."
"Yeah, I heard she was into that stuff."
"No, like, you have no idea," Luster insisted with a chuckle. "I know she might seem all regal and poised when she's out in public, but behind closed doors, she's a huge dork. It's probably taking all of her willpower not to geek out over all the junk here."
Samba glanced back at the princess again. "I mean, that's all the more reason why I shouldn't bother her. Sounds like she wants to enjoy the convention just as much as anypony else."
Luster tilted her head with an inquisitive smile. "So, what exactly were you planning on talking to her about anyway? You a fan of hers?"
"I guess you could say that. I have so much respect for her, it would be an honor just to meet her, or take a picture with her. Plus, my ex-husband and I are going to try enrolling our daughter into Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns later this year. Might be nice to get some encouragement from her, you know?"
"Oh, yeah, it's a great school. Princess Twilight went to that school when she was young too. I used to go there, but nowadays I'm attending the School of Friendship in Ponyville." Luster's eyes lit up suddenly. "Hey, you know what? Why don't I just introduce you to the princess myself?"
Samba felt her chest tighten, excited, yet nervous in response to the sudden suggestion. "What?! Uh, th-there's no need for that. I shouldn't be given special treatment. I just want the princess to enjoy her time here."
"Well, then why not meet after the convention's wrapped up, or something?" Luster's spellphone popped into existence with a flash of golden magic. "Give me your number and I'll text you when she's got a free minute."
There was no conceivable way for Samba to keep the grin off her face. "O-Okay, sure."
The two mare's quickly exchanged numbers. Then, Luster gave Samba a friendly wave as they prepared to part ways. "I'll catch you later, Samba."
"Yeah, sure. Looking forward to it."
Samba waved back as Luster Dawn disappeared into the crowd to attempt to reunite with the princess. Samba stared at the number in her spellphone's contacts list, knowing that that number was the indication that she wasn't just going to meet Princess Twilight, but might even get some one-on-one time with her. She giggled gleefully like an excited school filly, prancing off back through the convention hall to find Limbo or Bubble Gust and brag about it all day.
***** ***** *****
Limbo was struggling to find something to occupy her time. Most of her time was spent occasionally asking a random stranger what time it was so she could determine how long until Mango Career's presentation started, but no matter what they actually said, the only answer she could hear was, "Too long."
So all she was really doing was meandering around the tech wing of the convention center, eyeing up all of the weird gadgets and computer parts like they were artifacts salvaged from an alien spacecraft. Every single one of them glowed with colorful lights, for which she could not, for the un-life of her, comprehend any possible practical purpose. Combined with the dim lighting in the area otherwise, it just made her feel like she was in a nightclub as opposed to what was supposed to be a business convention according to Loose Leaf.
Eventually, Limbo spotted a miniscule form gliding above the crowd. A relieved sigh escaped her decayed lungs, and she called out. "Hey, Gust!"
Bubble Gust fluttered over to the detective flagging her down. "Hello, Limbo. Having fun?" she inquired, though her teasing smirk suggested she already knew the answer.
"About as much fun as a rabbit in a fox den," she deadpanned. "I tried entertaining myself by pretending to know what this stuff was—you know, for a laugh—but I kept getting stares from people that looked like they were trying to tell me I should leave before something happened to me. Not that I'm afraid of a bunch of tech nerds."
Bubble Gust giggled. "Well, it should not be long until the presentation now, maybe we should head over to the stage."
Limbo shrugged. "Sure. So, you have any luck?" she asked as they wormed their way to the main stage.
Gust shook her head with a sigh. "No. I was hoping that Leaf could get me in to see Career early, but apparently he is too busy helping his brother prepare."
"Think we'll actually get a chance to question him?"
"I am not even sure if he will be fielding questions about the election, but I am going to go for it anyway if I get the opportunity."
"Hey, guys!"
Limbo and Bubble Gust spotted Samba skipping over toward them, a surprisingly chipper grin on her face. Limbo cocked an eyebrow at her perky attitude. "Hey. You seem like you're in an even better mood than earlier. Did you meet the princess?"
Samba shook her head, but her smile never faltered. "Nope. But lookit!" She held out her spellphone to show them the latest number registered. "I ran into her student, Luster Dawn, and she said she's gonna text me when Princess Twilight is free so I can meet her one on one! How cool is that?!"
Limbo shrugged rather indifferently. "S'pretty cool, I guess."
Samba's mouth hung open, aghast. "'Pretty cool'? Since when has meeting a princess been only 'pretty cool'?"
The zombie mare held up a hoof at her defensive response. "Alright, whatever. Congratulations on being the thousandth person she'll meet today."
Samba knit her brow at her. "Why are you being such a grump?"
"I think she is just bored and impatient," Gust presumed.
"Two very true descriptors, yes," Limbo groaned. She managed to at least force a smile. "But maybe whatever this big reveal Career's got planned will at least be interesting. Probably just some new version of the spellphone or something. One that's a little bit smaller, or one that's a little bit bigger. Either way, everypony's gonna applaud and praise him like it's the most ingenious thing ever."
"I think you need help," Samba quipped, though there was a touch of seriousness to it.
As the trio were approaching the stage, an announcement rang out from the building's speaker system alerting the con-goers that Mango Career's presentation was about to begin on the main stage. While a sizable crowd had already gathered preemptively as Limbo, Samba, and Bubble Gust were, thankfully they were still able to find a spot relatively close to the stage, though the crowd was packed pretty tightly, much to Limbo's chagrin.
Samba spotted somepony moving through the crowd not far away, recognizing the tall form of Princess Twilight poking up above the shorter masses. The people around her respectfully made room for her, although she didn't walk right up to the stage, likely too considerate to block the view for everypony else. Presumably Luster Dawn was with her as well, but Samba couldn't quite see her through the crowd.
A large screen at the back of the stage turned on, displaying the logo of Mango Incorporated: the oblong silhouette of the company's namesake fruit with a single clean bite taken out of it. It appeared that this was the signal that the presentation was starting, as the people gathered at the stage suddenly fell quiet.
After a moment, a unicorn stallion with a shiny, silver coat walked out onto the stage. His mane was mostly a pure white, but with some dark grey streaks and slicked back with hair gel. He was dressed in a very business-casual sweater vest, teal with a white undershirt, a thin pair of glasses, as well as a discreet ear piece with a tiny microphone. His cutie mark was uncovered, displaying the same image depicted on the large screen behind him, but with the red and yellow coloration of an actual mango. The confidence with which he carried himself suggested that he was well accustomed to speaking in front of large crowds.
It was pretty obvious who this stallion was. It didn't take a genius for even somepony who'd never seen him before to deduce that this was Mango Career, one of the most influential—and wealthy—businessmen in the world. He took a moment to look out over the crowd, his eyes lingering slightly on Princess Twilight, before addressing the people affably.
"Good morning, everycreature. Nice to see you all here. For those of you who may not know, I'm Mango Career," he greeted casually, his voice carrying through the speakers on the stage. He began to pace slowly back and forth across the stage as he continued. "As you know, we at Mango Incorporated dedicate ourselves to the furtherment of Equestrian technology, doing everything we can to make life for every creature smoother and more convenient. Our claim to fame, of course, is the modern spellphone. You're more likely to see a person with one than without one these days."
Samba cast a teasing glance at Limbo, who grimaced bemusedly back at her as if to silently say, "Shut it."
"Our aim when developing the modern spellphone was to make long-distance communication convenient for everycreature instead of relying on sending letters via mail. Of course, we're constantly updating the spellphone, releasing new versions with more functionality."
"I knew it..." Limbo muttered quietly. "Here it comes. Another new spellphone with minimal differences, but is a hundred bits more expensive."
"A lot of people may not know this, but I'd like to clarify that I did not invent the modern spellphone, nor did anypony at my company. The design was actually given to me by our very own Princess Twilight Sparkle."
Career gestured to the alicorn standing amidst the crowd, all eyes turning to the princess. The look of surprise on her face suggested that she hadn't expected him to reveal that, a modest, yet somewhat awkward smile creasing her lips, along with a deep, bashful blush.
"So, among the myriad things that our beloved princess has done for Equestria, you can also thank her for the phones you all carry today. Truly a generous ruler to devise such a revolutionary item, yet refuse the credit or profit that comes with it."
The crowd applauded the princess gratefully, causing her blush to deepen further.
Career looked out over the audience with a coy smirk. "Now, you might be wondering why I bring this up, and it might surprise you to hear that I do not plan on announcing a new version of the spellphone today."
Quiet murmurs broke out from the crowd, people speculating what exactly the purpose of this presentation might actually be, then.
"I mention this because Princess Twilight's altruism is a great source of inspiration for me and my colleagues. We at Mango Incorporated produce many things, but the spellphone is by far our company's most noteworthy product. But I've always wanted to make something that's more than just a simple convenience. I wanted to make something that could very well change lives—something that could help people who really need it."
Career gestured to somepony offstage. A moment later, his own brother Loose Leaf emerged, wheeling out a small table with something on it, but was covered by a cloth. Career gave his brother a grateful nod and an almost dismissive pat on the shoulder. Leaf said nothing before taking his leave of the stage once more.
"To that end, I'd like to reveal to you all Mango Incorporated's latest piece of innovation..."
Career swept the cloth off the table with a graceful flourish of his teal magic.
"The Spellmet!"
One might have expected applause from the audience. However, everycreature present was dead silent, puzzled and uncertain looks on their faces.
Upon the table was a bizarre-looking device, its drab, grey frame vaguely resembling a hat, but looking like a cheap prop from a bad sci-fi movie, or a little kid's science fair project. A few wires were sticking out of it here and there, and there appeared to be a sleeve of two plastic rings on the front designed to fit around the horn of whomever was wearing it, assuming they had a horn.
The confident smile that had been upon Mango Career's face finally faltered, the crowd's underwhelming and confused reactions making him a touch nervous. He grinned rather awkwardly, clearing his throat. "I-I should mention that this product is still in development. The design is nowhere near finalized yet, so shareholders reserve judgment please," he chuckled jokingly, though tugged uneasily on the collar of his sweater vest.
With that addendum, many relieved sighs could be heard and Career finally received some satisfied applause.
Mango Career composed himself once more, continuing his presentation now that everypony seemed to be curious as to what this item did. "Magic is something that many of us—especially unicorns, kirin, and changelings—rely on in our daily lives. But, unfortunately, magical aptitude does not always come naturally."
That particular statement piqued Samba's interest.
"In other cases, injury can prevent one from properly utilizing one's magic. It was my aim to invent something that could alleviate such issues. As so, the Spellmet was born," Career exclaimed, pointing to the device. "The Spellmet is the culmination of magical knowhow and the advancement of Equestrian technology. When wearing it, any spells performed are logged in a storage device built within the Spellmet as data, like the photos you all have on your spellphones. From there, those spells can then be performed by anycreature else that wears it."
Impressed "Ooh's" and "Ahh's" rolled out from the crowd. One could practically hear Mango Inc.'s stock prices soaring already.
However, there was one particular person who just stared in quiet awe and disbelief with mouth agape. If her heart could still beat, it would be pounding with anticipation right about now.
Career looked out over the crowd with a playful smirk. "But I imagine some of you still have doubts. So, how about a demonstration?" He set his sights on the lone alicorn in the audience. "Your Highness, I would be honored if you could assist me."
Princess Twilight was caught off guard by the request, but after only a moment of hesitation, she made her way up onto the stage with a smile to join Career. "This is certainly unexpected, but I'm happy to help a friend," she expressed with a giggle.
"Well, I just figured the people would be less skeptical if their ruler were the one demonstrating, you know? To assure them that they're not being mislead."
"So, what do I have to do?" Twilight asked curiously.
"First of all..." Career passed the princess the Spellmet. "You'll need to wear this."
There was a touch of trepidation in the alicorn's eyes, but she did as requested and slipped the bizarre-looking device onto her head, threading her long horn through the two rings at the front. Frankly, it looked rather ridiculous sitting upon the princess's head. However, Twilight didn't seem too bothered by it. "Huh. It's surprisingly flexible despite its appearance."
"It had to be designed to fit a multitude of people and creatures, so flexibility and comfort are important. And I'd like to reiterate that this is by no means the final design. I simply couldn't wait any longer to reveal this to the public. Now then, I'd like to ask you to perform a spell that you believe not many other people would know."
Twilight curled her lip as she contemplated which spell to perform. "Hmm... How about similo duplexis?"
"Whatever you wish."
The princess nodded. "Very well, then."
Twilight's horn lit up with vibrant, pink magic. Interestingly, as she was preparing the spell, the bands of the Spellmet began to glow with the same pink color. A moment later, a second Princess Twilight suddenly split from her form, standing next to her, but was not wearing a second Spellmet.
"How's that?" the alicorn asked in stereo.
"Perfect," Career confirmed with a satisfied grin.
The second princess then joined back with the first, leaving just one alicorn remaining onstage. "So, what now?"
"We'll need another volunteer, somecreature who doesn't know that particular spell, which I would imagine is not many. It seems like a high level spell."
"Well, if it helps, I know my student, Luster Dawn, doesn't know that spell yet."
Both Princess Twilight and Mango Career turned their gazes to Luster standing amongst the crowd, causing the young mare to reel in surprise. "Uh, me? Really?"
"It'll only take a moment," Career assured her.
Luster Dawn gulped nervously, now suddenly aware that all eyes were on her. But she made her way up onstage anyway, finding at least some solace in standing beside her mentor.
"Alright, now, give the Spellmet to her, Your Majesty," Career instructed.
Twilight did so, Luster Dawn receiving the Spellmet and placing it onto her own head.
"So, to clarify, Miss Dawn, you do not know this... What was it, similo duplexis?"
"No, I don't. Well, not yet anyway, but maybe someday," answered Luster with a slight, nervous hitch in her voice.
Career smiled at that statement. "How about today?"
"Huh?"
"As I mentioned previously, the Spellmet allows even those who don't know particular spells to perform them so long as they are logged in the device's memory."
Luster turned her eyes up at the weird thing on her head, then to Princess Twilight. "But there's a method to performing spells, right? It's not as simple as just thinking about it."
"Why not try it anyway?" Career asked confidently.
Luster stared at her teacher, who just gave her a shrug and a smile, suggesting she just go with the flow. "Uh, alright."
Luster Dawn closed her eyes and lit up her horn. Just like when Princess Twilight had worn it, the Spellmet began to glow as well, but it didn't match Luster's golden aura, instead emulating the alicorn's pink magic. And when Luster opened her eyes again, she found a mirror image of herself standing beside her. There was suddenly a look of shock and confusion on her face as she frantically looked around like something didn't make sense. A moment later, her copy rejoined her and the young mare calmed down, blinking rapidly as if her eyes were readjusting to the lighting of the room.
"Okay, that was weird," she said, rubbing her temple.
The crowd was abuzz with interest and discussion over this, and even the princess was impressed by what she saw. But Career was quick to interrupt and quiet everycreature down.
"So, as you can see, even though this lovely, young mare has never performed this spell before, she was able to do so effortlessly thanks to the spell being logged within the Spellmet's memory."
The crowd erupted with impressed applause.
"My primary goal with this product is to allow those with magical disabilities—such as a broken horn—to regain what they had once lost, or perhaps never had to begin with. And I'd like to add that we have working prototypes of the Spellmet that can also replicate other types of magic, including kirin, changeling, etcetera. So, for example, a unicorn could use kirin fire, or even changeling shapeshifting."
Another round of excited applause roared out from the crowd.
"Unfortunately, we can't even give an estimate as to when this product will hit the market. There are still a lot of aspects that need tweaking, so I hope you can all be patient while we work fervently on this, but perhaps I'll be able to answer some of your questions during the Q&A session later. Thank you all for coming today. Enjoy the rest of the expo." Career bowed graciously as the audience applauded one more time and he thanked both Princess Twilight and Luster Dawn for their assistance as they returned the Spellmet and took their leave of the stage.
The screen behind the stage faded out, and Mango Career exiting stage right, signaling the end of the presentation. It took only a fraction of a second for everycreature to start loud and exuberant discussions about what they had just learned as they dispersed.
Samba was amongst those who were awestruck by what Mango Career's latest invention was capable of. "Wow! That thing's amazing, isn't it?!"
Bubble Gust nodded in agreement. "Ya, certainly something revolutionary. It could help a lot of people who have disabilities."
Samba grinned interestedly. "I might have to get one myself when they start selling them. Assuming I can afford it, that is. Something like that is probably gonna cost a horn and a hoof—ironically. Just wish I could get one before Pirouette went off to school, but it probably won't be available any time soon."
"You have trouble with magic?" inquired Bubble Gust.
"Yeah, I've got funnel horn. I've been able to get by without magic, but the worst part is not being able to help my daughter practice."
"I am sorry to hear that. Maybe you could convince Career to give you one in advance," Gust joked. "Speaking of which, I really need to see if I can meet with him myself."
"Oh, right, you wanted to talk to him too, right, Limbo?"
Limbo didn't answer. She was just continuing to stare up at the stage, slackjawed, despite the fact that there was nothing and nopony left up there.
Samba tilted her head. "Limbo? You okay?"
The detective suddenly turned to her, a manic and incredulous look in her one eye. "This is it!"
Both Samba and Bubble Gust drew back at her outburst, and several other nearby con-goers passed her odd looks.
"Wh-What are we talking about?" Samba stammered, concerned for Limbo, but mostly for herself.
Limbo pointed to the empty stage. "Don't you get it?! The Spellmet—which, by the way, is the stupidest name for a product I've ever heard—is what the Ghost must be after!"
Samba blinked. "Uh, you really think so?"
"It has to be!" she insisted belligerently. "It can't be a coincidence, right? The Ghost has been kidnapping people who know unique and complex spells and Mango Career and Princess Twilight just demonstrate something that does just that?"
"But he literally just announced it," Samba pointed out. "How could the Ghost know about it beforehoof?"
"You were the one who convinced me to come here because of the inhibitor ring thing, remember? We speculated that the Ghost might have some connection to Mango Inc., and this pretty much clinches it. They must have had inside knowledge of that..." Limbo grimaced slightly. "...thing's existence."
"You think they preemptively kidnapped all those people to prepare for the Spellmet's public release?"
"Effectively, yes. Let's be real, the sorts of spells that the victims knew require a great deal of skill and power to perform. But, as we just witnessed, that monstrosity can circumvent that. They don't have to learn the spells themselves, they just have to make their victims log those spells in that atrocious-looking thing. Career even mentioned that it can copy kirin and changeling magic, so now Sizzle Conifer's disappearance suddenly makes a lot more sense too!"
As much sense as Limbo was making, Samba couldn't help but still be a touch skeptical. "I mean, yeah, but couldn't anypony do the same thing once it hits the market? Why go through the trouble? And this is still just another one of your theories, right?"
Limbo stood her ground adamantly. "I am one hundred and one percent sure that the Ghost is after that abomination of technology—with a one percent margin for error. You can't convince me otherwise. But this just makes it all the more imperative for me to meet with Mango Career. I have several important questions I need to ask him about this."
"I wanted to talk to him too, but I guess I will just have to wait my turn," Bubble Gust chimed in with a grumpy huff.
"Don't give me that. I think investigating a kidnapping is more important than the election," Limbo argued back at her. "The real issue is actually arranging an audience with him."
At that moment, Samba's spellphone vibrated in its sleeve. She removed it to check her notifications, a big, goofy grin spreading across her lips all of a sudden. "Guys, I might have us an in."
Following the instructions she'd received on her spellphone, Samba lead Limbo and Bubble Gust around to the back of the stage where Mango Career had held his presentation. The dancer trotted ahead with an extra spring in her step, humming a jaunty tune the whole way and drowning out the rest of the noise in the convention center.
It was odd to see her friend this perky, so Limbo couldn't help but smirk a little teasingly. "Geez, Samba, you're like a kid in a candy store, aren't you? You wanna dial it back a touch?"
"I can't help it!" she exclaimed excitedly. "We're gonna meet the princess! How are you not more excited?!"
Limbo just shrugged. "I dunno. I guess I just never really saw meeting celebrities as a big deal. Not one for autographs and that sort of thing. I suppose you could say I'm not a 'material girl.'"
"Says the mare with a coffee mug collection," Samba deadpanned in retaliation.
"Did you see any signature's on them? In any case, I'm coming with you to see Career, not the princess. And not to get his autograph."
"Luster Dawn just invited you to meet Princess Twilight, ya?" Bubble Gust reiterated. "That does not guarantee we will meet Career."
"She told me to come backstage," Samba said, doublechecking the text she'd received to make sure. "I have to imagine Mango Career is back there too."
"Also, she invited you," Limbo pointed out. "Is she expecting you to bring an entourage?"
Samba's pace slowed a little, looking a little nervous now. "Um... I mean, I'm hoping Princess Twilight is accommodating enough to be okay with it. Luster Dawn said she loves meeting new people, so..."
"And presumably Leaf will be back there too," Gust mentioned. "Surely, he could vouch for us."
Limbo shrugged again. "Guess we'll see."
The backstage area was partitioned off from the rest of the convention center by thick, black curtains, giving the crew ample room to work without interruption. Cables and wires were running all around the place, connecting many computers and switchboards to the tech used for the presentation. At the moment, things were still busy, despite the presentation having ended. More than likely the crew were preparing for other less pertinent presentations for later in the day; nothing Limbo, Samba, or Bubble Gust would likely be interested in.
More importantly, Princess Twilight was indeed present. She and Luster Dawn were already engaged in conversation with Mango Career, pleasant smiles on all their faces.
"I'm sorry for springing that on you out of the blue, Your Highness," Career apologized to the princess with a chuckle.
"It's fine," Princess Twilight assured with a giggle of her own. "It made the most sense to ask me. And I'm happy to help you out once again."
"I could have done without all the eyes on me, personally," Luster Dawn sighed. "It was a little nerve-wracking."
"That's my fault. I'm sorry, Luster," Twilight apologized with a sympathetic smile. "I'll make it up to you after the convention. Hayburger, on me."
Her student smirked knowingly at her. "You sure that's not more for you, Princess?"
Twilight blushed, awkwardly breaking eye contact. "I-I don't know what you mean." The alicorn's slight embarrassment dissipated quickly, because by looking away, she spotted three unfamiliar people standing nearby. Twilight smiled knowingly. "Is this the new friend you mentioned, Luster?"
"Hm?" Luster Dawn locked eyes with Samba, the dancer giving her a rather sheepish wave in the presence of the princess. "Oh, yeah, that's her. Come over here, Samba!" she beckoned cheerily.
Samba, Bubble Gust, and Limbo approached the princess, the former two bowing respectfully.
"I-It's an honor to meet you, Your Majesty," Samba stammered nervously with a shaky smile.
"It's nice to meet you too," Twilight greeted casually. She glanced between the earth pony and breezie accompanying her. "Are these friends of yours?"
Samba straightened up quickly, a deeply apologetic look on her face. "Y-Yes, I'm sorry I didn't ask if I could bring friends! But if it helps, they didn't come to meet you." Samba suddenly tensed at what she'd just said. "I-I mean, not that they don't like you! I-It's just that—"
Twilight laughed at her overreaction, gesturing with her hoof for her to calm down. "Relax, it's fine. What's a couple more friends? No biggie. So, Luster said your name is Samba, right?"
Samba nodded rapidly, her face beet red with nervousness.
"And your friends?"
Samba turned to Limbo. "Th-This is Limbo."
Limbo offered a casual wave. "'Sup."
"And this is Bubble Gust," Samba introduced, gesturing to the tiny breezie floating beside her.
"It is my honor," Gust greeted with another bow.
"It's nice to meet all of you," said Twilight. She looked at Bubble Gust in particular. "It's pretty rare to see a breezie in Equestria outside of migrations. Not to sound patronizing, but you're brave to live a world of giants," she chuckled.
"I like to think I am a particularly tough cookie," Gust boasted jokingly.
"I can vouch for that," added Limbo.
"It's been ages since I've been to the Breezie Realm," said Twilight wistfully. "Maybe I should consider paying another visit in the near future."
Luster Dawn looked up incredulously at her mentor. "You've been to the Breezie Realm, Princess?"
"Just once, a long time ago. I've only ever made contact since then with representatives to negotiate allegiances and immigration. Travel to and from the Breezie Realm isn't easy."
"Princess Twilight is a highly revered figure in the Breezie Realm," Gust told them. "Apparently, she and her friends are among the only outsiders to ever visit our lands."
"Guess it should be no surprise that she managed to unite all the different kingdoms of the world," Samba uttered in awe.
"Well, there's still work to do on that front, but I'm doing my best," Twilight said modestly.
"Ahem."
They all turned to the source of the interruption. Mango Career was staring at them, curious, yet perhaps a little annoyed.
Twilight's ears perked up. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cut our conversation short, Mr. Career."
"I'm just feeling a little left out, that's all," he joked with a chuckle. "Mind if I butt in?"
"Not at all. Everypony, I'm sure you know Mango Career," Twilight introduced.
"Hard not to," said Samba. She tapped the spellphone strapped to her leg. "Everypony knows the inventor of the spellphone."
"Well, actually, as I mentioned during the presentation, I didn't technically invent it," he reminded them, gesturing to Twilight. "That was our princess here."
"Even then, I can't really take all the credit for it," Twilight claimed. "I actually got the idea from a friend of mine who lives... let's just say, 'far away.' I just came up with a way to circumvent some of the limitations—such as range and battery life—by incorporating magic."
"Still, though, you two created something revolutionary together," Luster Dawn complimented.
"I just want to do anything I can to benefit Equestria as a whole," Career stated humbly.
"Is that why you are running for mayor?"
Career quirked an eyebrow at Bubble Gust's question, eyeing up the breezie with scrutiny. "I had a feeling I knew who you were. You work for Mayor Highstrung, don't you? Leaf mentioned that he worked with a brazen breezie at the town hall."
Gust just smirked. "'Brazen,' huh? Well, he is not wrong. I was hoping to get a chance to ask you some questions, Mr. Career."
Career sighed with exasperation, flicking a hoof. "Sorry, but I didn't come here to talk politics, especially not with the competition. I figured Leaf would have said as much."
Bubble Gust grimaced at his dismissiveness, but begrudgingly backed off.
"Speaking of which, where is Leaf anyway?" asked Limbo, looking around, but not spotting the stallion in question amongst the crew.
"He's busy keeping track of things in the storage room. He should be back shortly," answered Career.
"And can I ask why you came, Ms. Limbo?" inquired Twilight. "Luster said Ms. Samba was eager to meet me, and Ms. Gust apparently wanted to discuss politics with Mr. Career. What about you?"
Limbo straightened up, clearing her throat to put on her professional voice. "I'll answer that by telling you that I'm a private detective. In particular, I came here today to investigate suspicions I have about the Ghost of Baltimare."
"That's the serial kidnapper, right?" Twilight inferred. "How are they related to the Magi-Tech Expo?"
"Well, initially, I simply came here on a small hunch, but now that I've seen the..."
"Spellmet," Samba said for her.
Limbo discreetly rolled her eye. "Yeah, that. After seeing that and taking into account all of the information I've gathered about the Ghost, I have reason to believe that they may be after the..."
"Spellmet," Samba said once more.
"Yes, whatever."
Career tilted his head, curious, but concerned. "You think so?"
"The function of that device lines up with my theory as to why the Ghost is targeting specific people. Just let me ask something: what's to prevent somepony from stockpiling a bunch of powerful spells and abusing the thing?"
Career grinned reassuringly. "Oh, that. Well, you don't have to worry about that sort of thing. The final product is going to have storage limits to prevent that. As of right now, the plan is for every individual spellmet to only be capable of storing a few spells at a time, as well as other safety and security features."
"The final product, sure, but what about your prototypes?"
"Oh, well, we haven't implemented any sort of security like that on the prototypes just yet, but that shouldn't be an issue, right? All of the prototypes are stored safely in the R&D department back at H.Q."
"Except one."
Career blinked, but quickly caught onto her meaning. "You mean the one I just unveiled."
"You think the Ghost might be planning a heist?" Princess Twilight inferred.
"It's possible," answered Limbo.
Career simply waved off her concern. "I'm not worried about that. Our security guards are always at the top of their game. No creature is going to sneak by them."
"I hope you're right."
"Oh, hey, guys," suddenly came the voice Loose Leaf as he sauntered over, his chores apparently finished. "I see you've met the ponies of the hour."
Twilight nodded. "Yes, apparently Ms. Samba was eager to meet me."
Samba grinned goofily, her wavy tail swishing like a happy puppy.
"Yeah? Why's that?" Leaf asked. "I mean, I know she's a princess, but judging by the look on your face, I'm assuming you have a specific reason."
"It's for your daughter, right?" Luster Dawn answered for her.
"Mostly, yeah, but I also have a ton of respect for you myself, Your Highness," Samba clarified.
"I didn't know you had a kid, Samba," Leaf said with mild surprise.
"Yeah, her name's Pirouette." Samba frowned. "I don't get to see her as much as I'd like because of the divorce, and I'll admit that I'm not a very reliable mom, but I still love my daughter more than anything." She managed to smile again, staring up hopefully at the princess. "But right now, me and her father are trying to get her into Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. That's the big reason I wanted to meet you, Your Majesty."
"It sounds like you're in a complicated situation," Twilight said with a soft, sympathetic smile. "But it's a noble endeavor to want to help your child get into a good school. And Celestia's school is one of the best. I should know, having gone there myself," she giggled.
"Pirouette must be good with magic, then," Luster presumed.
"Oh, yeah, she's very talented for a filly her age," Samba stated proudly.
Loose Leaf quirked an eyebrow. "Really?"
Samba nodded, though there was a hint of uncertainty as she stared at the princess. "But, uh, I don't know whether or not it's enough to get into the school."
"Oh, don't use me as your bar," Twilight reassured her with a chuckle. "I was an... unusual case."
"Yeah, it's not like the school is training people to become royalty," Luster joked.
"Does your daughter know many spells?" asked Leaf.
"Uh, it's not that she knows many spells, it's just that her magic is unusually powerful for her age," Samba explained. She lowered her head in shame and regret. "I just wish I could do more for her on that front, but I can't help her practice at all because of my funnel horn."
Luster Dawn frowned sympathetically. "Oh, geez. I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's rare for an adult unicorn to have funnel horn," added Twilight. "But if it makes you feel any better, I used to have funnel horn as a filly."
Samba stared in disbelief. "Seriously? You? One of the most powerful ponies in Equestria had funnel horn?"
"Well, I guess it's debatable whether or not it could be considered funnel horn since I was still young, but even at the age I was, it was uncommon to be unable to use magic in any noteworthy capacity. It wasn't until my entrance exam for Celestia's school that I received the shock that unlocked my latent power. So, clinically speaking, you could probably argue that I had funnel horn."
Leaf chuckled quietly. "But if you want somepony a little more relatable, it might be worth mentioning that I used to have funnel horn too."
Once again, Samba was flabbergasted. "You did? You're not gonna say it was when you were a kid, are you?"
He shook his head. "Nope. Had it until a few years ago."
Limbo eyed him up interestedly. "Really? You never mentioned this to me at any point."
"What, we're not married. I don't have to share every little detail about my life with you," he responded with a playful smirk.
"What about me?" Gust interjected with mock hurt, fluttering close to him. "I thought we had a close working relationship, dear."
Leaf backed up uncomfortably. "Can you not? I don't need people starting rumors."
"What was it that triggered your magic, then?" asked Samba curiously, wondering if it was perhaps something she could try herself.
Leaf grinned, turning to his brother, who was smiling back. "Actually, I have Mango to thank for that. At least in part."
They all turned to Career, awaiting an explanation.
"Well, to be fair, it was an accident," he started. "It was actually when we were testing the very first prototype for the Spellmet."
"Oh, I think I get it," Luster interjected. "Your brother's funnel horn must have been one of the factors that inspired the Spellmet, right?"
"In a sense," Leaf answered in his brother's stead. Strangely, he cast a slight scowl at Career. "The Spellmet was actually my idea. I guess Samba's the only one here who'd know what it's like growing up as a unicorn who can't use magic. F.Y.I., it sucks, and I was sick of it."
"So why are you looking at me like that?" Career countered. "The Spellmet is the reason you can use magic now."
"How's that?" inquired Limbo. "I've seen him use magic without that thing."
"Considering the point of the Spellmet was to help people like me, I offered to be the first to test it," Leaf explained. "Turned out, channeling the magic that was stored in it triggered something, and once I took it off, I could use magic."
"Really? That's fascinating," uttered Princess Twilight. "So the Spellmet can not only allow people to use magic when they otherwise couldn't for varying reasons, but it can outright cure funnel horn? Why didn't you mention that during your presentation, Mr. Career?"
Career looked away, some uncertainty in his expression. "Because we don't know if it's something we can replicate. Obviously, I didn't want the Spellmet's existence to be leaked, but there was nopony else involved with the development that had or knew somepony with funnel horn. I don't want to advertise a feature that might not be part of the final product."
"Then why not test it now?" Twilight suggested with an eager grin, glancing at Samba. "We have somepony with funnel horn here now, right?"
Samba's eyes widened. "Wh-What?! Y-You want me to wear it?"
"Hey, that's not a bad idea," Career agreed.
"What's the harm?" asked Limbo with a shrug. "Worst case scenario, you still have funnel horn. Not like you have anything to lose."
Samba was quiet for a moment, mulling this over. If it turned out that the Spellmet could cure her funnel horn, then she would actually be able to help Pirouette prepare for Celestia's school. It'd just be irresponsible to not at least try. She smiled shakily, though her nervousness was evident. "O-Okay, I guess I can give it a shot."
"Great, just a second. Hey, Hotwire!" Career gestured to an orange stallion with a black mane amongst the crew.
"What's up, Boss?" Hotwire asked as he trotted over.
"Go grab the Spellmet for me, would you?"
"Sure thing."
Hotwire trotted off again to retrieve the item.
"I'm a little nervous," Samba admitted sheepishly. "You've gotten my hopes up. Now it's gonna be even more disheartening if it doesn't work."
"We won't know if we don't try," Twilight told her comfortingly.
"It's not gonna hurt, is it?" she asked, looking to Leaf for an answer. "What was it like when you did it?"
"Honestly, it was kind of a rush," he answered with a grin. "Feeling all my magic flooding to the fore was a pretty stimulating experience. It's like taking your first deep breath after getting over a cold. A cold you've had your whole life. Well, obviously it's more than that, but you know what I mean, right?"
"She might in due time," said Luster with an eager and optimistic smile.
"Not to compliment the opposition, but it is a pretty amazing stroke of luck that your invention can do such a thing, Career," Bubble Gust commented.
Leaf glowered slightly at his brother. "Yeah, well, don't give him all the credit. It wouldn't exist in the first place without me."
Career groaned, sounding rather exasperated. "Leaf, can we not do this here?"
"I just don't get what's so hard about giving me a little recognition," Leaf argued. "You went out on that stage and talked up how revolutionary the Spellmet is without so much as a mention of my name."
"You got to be onstage with me, remember?" Career pointed out.
"Oh, right, as your product model," Leaf sneered. "And, what, I'm supposed to be grateful just to share a stage with my own brother for all of thirty seconds?"
"Weren't you the one who said that you want to make a name for yourself on your own merits?"
"And you're showing everypony exactly why!" Leaf blurted indignantly. "And this is not really even about that. It's about giving credit where credit's due. You'll credit the princess for giving you inspiration before you'll credit me—you know, me, the one who came up with the idea for the Spellmet in the first place. Oh, and thanks for including me in the naming process by the way," he snipped sarcastically. "Seriously, you couldn't even be bothered to run that name by me before going out and announcing it. It sounds as ridiculous as it looks."
"Thank you," Limbo muttered to herself in validation.
"You know that's not the final design, Leaf," Career reminded him.
"Then why even announce it now? You're supposed to be this super savvy businessman. Seems like a pretty poor decision, if you ask me. Oh, and let's not overlook the fact that you arranged this presentation without me too. When exactly were you planning to tell me about this, or were you just waiting for me to find out on my own?"
"I was busy!" Career argued defensively. "I never got around to it, that's all."
Leaf glared at his brother through narrowed eyes. "Right, so I'm something you need to 'get around to' now, am I? Real nice thing to hear from your own brother."
"Now you're just twisting my words."
"So is that also why you haven't been keeping me posted about new updates? Can't even get a spare minute to send me a quick text. 'Hey, Bro, wanna come over and see some of the changes we've made?' It'd take six seconds, but no, can't even be bothered to do that. You've gone through three entire revisions since the last time you asked for my input!"
"I figured you had your own stuff going on, what with your job at town hall. And now that I think about it, is that why you decided to work with my opposition? To spite me?"
"First off, no. Second, you've got no business getting into politics. You've already got a gargantuan, multi-million bit company to run. You can't even make time for your little brother! How are you going to run a whole city?!"
Luster Dawn leaned discreetly over to her teacher, whispering quietly. "This is uncomfortable, right?"
"Super uncomfortable," Twilight agreed.
"Maybe we should go," Samba suggested.
Limbo balked at her. "What? No, no, I still got stuff I need to ask Career."
"This obviously isn't a good time, Limbo," Samba told her through clenched teeth.
"And I might not get a better time."
The subtle whispering amongst their company didn't slip by Mango Career. He put his argument with his brother on hold to address them with an apologetic frown. "I'm sorry, you all shouldn't have to listen to our bickering, least of all you, Your Highness."
Leaf sighed, finally remembering that they weren't alone. "Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't mean to go off like that in front of you guys."
Twilight offered an accepting grin. "It's alright. I know a thing or two about sibling rivalries. You love 'em to death, but that's why even the little things feel like they cut so deep sometimes. I remember being pretty miffed when I learned about my older brother's wedding at the last minute."
Career bowed respectfully. "Thank you for your understanding, Princess. Now, I hope you're not all in a hurry to leave because of this. After all, Ms. Samba here still needs to try out the Spellmet."
"Still a dumb name..." Leaf muttered under his breath.
"Speaking of which, that Hotwire guy's taking his sweet time," Limbo commented impatiently.
"The storage room is kind of a mess right now," Leaf told her. "People have been coming and going through there all morning, so there hasn't been much opportunity to keep things organized."
"But you would think something as important as the Spellmet would be easy to find," remarked Bubble Gust.
As they were talking about it, Hotwire returned. His gait was rather hurried, and he notably did not have the Spellmet with him.
"There you are. What took so long?" Career asked with a hint of annoyance at his tardiness.
Hotwire gulped nervously. "Um, well..."
The stallion leaned in to whisper something to Mango Career, and the business pony's eyes widened worriedly. "Are you sure?"
Hotwire just shrugged uncertainly.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Career?" asked Twilight with concern.
"Uh, well... It seems the Spellmet is missing..." he uttered, though it was hard to tell if he was in disbelief, or if he was just being surprisingly nonchalant about it.
"What? Are you serious?" Leaf exclaimed in shock. "How can it be missing? I was in there just ten minutes ago and I know it was there then."
"I don't know what to tell you," said Hotwire defensively. "I looked and looked, but I couldn't find it."
"Well, go double-check!" Career demanded aggressively, eliciting a wince from Hotwire before the stallion took off back to the storage room. Upon noticing the looks his company was giving him, Career took a breath to steady himself, readjusting his glasses. "Sorry, this is just a little alarming."
"Hate to say I told you so," Limbo stated, her single silver eye exuding focus and seriousness. "Looks like we might have a theft on our hooves."
Without any warning, Princess Twilight lit up her horn and a pulse of pink magic expanded outward, catching everypony off guard. The group could even hear the crowd in other areas of the building becoming confused and concerned.
"What was that?" Samba asked the princess worriedly.
"I cast a barrier around the convention center," she answered promptly and seriously, her voice radiating authority as opposed to the casual tone she'd used up until now. "If the Spellmet has been stolen, then the thief could still be nearby. Mr. Leaf mentioned that it was still in the store room just ten minutes ago, so if they are still here, they're stuck here now."
"I, uh..." Mango Career started, looking a little frazzled by this news. "I suppose we should figure out who's been to the storage room since Leaf was there."
"It's been so busy that that wouldn't even narrow it down much," Leaf mentioned.
"And I don't think it would do a lot of good anyway," Limbo informed him.
Career cocked a puzzled eyebrow. "Why not?"
"If our thief is the Ghost of Baltimare like I speculated, I have a strong hunch—as much as I hate to say it—that our culprit may be a changeling."
"Which means they could have disguised themselves as a member of your staff to get access to the Spellmet," Samba added. "And they probably would have switched disguises by now too, assuming they're even still here."
"It would be pertinent to search the immediate area first," Twilight suggested. "If they've already left the building, then our chances of finding them are slim. Let's just do what we can for now. Luster, contact the authorities and inform them of what's happening."
"Uh, yeah." Luster Dawn shakily took out her spellphone, stepping away to call the police.
"I'll try to keep the crowd calm and under control," the alicorn continued, noting the increasing confusion and panic coming from the convention center now that everycreature was trapped inside. She turned to Limbo. "Detective, this is your wheelhouse, so I'm leaving the investigation to you."
Limbo saluted the princess confidently. "You can count on me, Your Majesty."
Twilight offered a trusting smile and a nod before promptly taking her leave.
With the impromptu investigation underway, Limbo rolled her shoulders eagerly. "Alright, let's crack this nut. First thing's first, Mr. Career, I'm gonna need to see this storage room."
"Of course," he agreed, though still a little shaky.
"I'll see if the crew noticed anypony acting suspiciously," said Leaf as he headed off as well
Limbo and Career were about to head on their way, but before they could, Samba tugged on Limbo's leg to grab her attention. "What should I do?" she asked.
Limbo gave her a somewhat concerned, yet corrective look. "We've talked about this, Samba. You should probably stay here where it's safe."
Limbo knew why she looked like that, but she really didn't want Samba putting herself in danger anymore than she needed to. So, having gotten her assistant's compliance, Limbo followed Career toward the storage room, leaving Samba alone with Bubble Gust.
The breezie took notice of the quiet sigh escaping from Samba's lungs. "Something the matter, Samba?"
"It's just... The reason I wanted to work with Limbo is because I wanted to make myself useful for something for once in my life. I mean, I know she's right. Putting myself in harm's way is a dumb and reckless idea. It might have worked out once, but there's no guarantee that I wouldn't get hurt if I tried it again." She shook her head, accepting her role, but still not feeling great about it. "I should just listen to her. I'm just going to get in the way if I try too hard..."
Bubble Gust frowned sympathetically. She was about to say something, but was interrupted when Luster Dawn came back.
"Okay, the cops are on their way. We just need to sit tight," Luster said, breathing a deep sigh.
"Are you okay, Ms. Dawn?" Gust inquired, noting the somewhat nervous look on her face.
"Uh, well... I've just never been in a situation like this before," she admitted with a sheepish blush. "I know that sounds weird considering that Princess Twilight is my teacher, but I'm not exactly fighting off super villains on a regular basis like she did back in the day. This is just a simple robbery and I'm honestly pretty shook."
"But having Princess Twilight here in the first place is a stroke of luck," Gust said with a confident grin. "If you are asking me, our thief chose a bad time for a heist."
Luster grinned awkwardly, a little embarrassed by her reaction to this. "Yeah, yeah, you're right. I just gotta have faith that the princess and Detective Limbo can catch the thief. I mean, there's also the chance that they're not even here anymore, right? That would suck if they got away, sure, but at least the people here would be safe."
"I'd rather we catch them here and now," Samba asserted. "There's no telling what kind horrible things they could do with the Spellmet."
"Fair point. Being able to use any spell without effort is kinda scary if it's in the wrong hooves. But the Spellmet's only got the princess's similo duplexis spell, doesn't it? The thief's not gonna be able to just ask people to donate spells."
"But if they're the Ghost of Baltimare, they already have that handled. They've already kidnapped a dozen people who know complex spells. They just have to threaten them and force them to put their spells in it."
Luster held a hoof to her mouth in worry. "Oh, shoot, that's bad. But I guess it's a good thing we have you and Limbo here, huh? Pretty lucky to have a couple of experts around to deal with this."
Samba looked away, feeling worthless again. "I'm not really an expert. Limbo's the one who's been trailing the Ghost from the beginning. I'm just tagging along because I want to do something worthwhile to prove to myself that I can be useful."
Luster's ears drooped slightly at the defeated look on Samba's face. "Oh... Uh, well, I hope that works out for you?" she said awkwardly and uncertainly.
"There are ways you can help without putting yourself in danger," Gust mentioned.
Samba's ears perked up. "You think?"
"Ya. Leaf is asking around to see if anypony noticed any suspicious activity. Why not do the same?"
Samba mulled the suggestion over. When she first started working with Limbo, their first task together was information gathering because Limbo figured that was something Samba could handle without any risk. So maybe Bubble Gust had a point. It may have been safer for Limbo to investigate the scene of the crime, but what was the harm in searching elsewhere for information? Still, there was always risk that she could inadvertently bump into the thief, so she wanted to take some precautions.
Samba smiled at Gust and Luster. "That's a good point. We should talk to people and see if we can figure out anything useful."
Luster blinked. "Uh, 'we'?"
"Well, yeah. I... think I'd feel safer if I had somepony with me. I had a... a 'friend' watching my back last night when I was in a similar situation. I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but I think it would be for the best if we stick together until this is sorted out."
Bubble Gust had no objections, but Luster Dawn still looked a tad nervous.
However, after some hesitation, the young mare smiled, though it was still a little uncertain. "Y-Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Princess Twilight is probably a little busy on crowd control right now, so I'd rather not get in her way."
"We should probably start with the staff back here," Samba recommended. "If anypony saw anything, this is likely where it'd be."
"Sure. Lead the way, Boss," said Luster, putting her confidence in Samba.
A small grin appeared on Samba's face. It was certainly an odd feeling to be considered the one in charge, but she had to admit, it actually felt a little inspiring to know that somepony else was putting their faith in her for once.
***** ***** *****
Mango Career promptly guided Limbo toward one of the convention center's storage rooms. Most of the people showcasing something at the expo kept their supplies and whatnot safely tucked away when it wasn't in use or if they needed backups in case a particularly grabby attendee decided to maul something with their grimy hooves like a cat with a toy mouse. Standing outside the door to the room Career's people were using was a burly earth pony stallion with a golden coat and light blue mane. He seemed pretty tough on the outside, with his chest puffed out intimidatingly, but the moment he saw Career approaching, he noticeably deflated, looking rather ashamed.
"'Pologies, Boss. I didn't notice nopony s'picious, I swear," the stallion apologized surprisingly meekly.
Career responded with a frustrated sigh, but raised a hoof dismissively. "We're not throwing around blame just yet, Quad. We need information first. Is Hotwire inside?"
Quad hesitated. "Uh... Hotwire's the..."
"Orange coat, black mane," Career told him.
"Oh, yeah, he's here."
Limbo quirked an eyebrow at that odd exchange. She glanced between the lanyards around both of their necks, noting that both bore the logo of Mango Incorporated. "He a new hire or something?"
Quad scratched his head with an awkward blush. "Uh, nope. Been working with Boss for five years. I 'members faces real well, but I'm not so good with names."
"Guess that means we can skip introductions and get straight to investigating the crime scene," said Limbo as she and Career entered the store room.
The inside of the room was pretty much as Leaf had described it. In fact, he may have been downplaying it. The store room was an utter mess. Nothing was organized, many objects were just left on the floor because the shelves were already overpacked with doodads that Limbo wasn't even going to attempt to identify, and loose extension cords were laying around all over the place, posing a very realistic tripping hazard. It was a wonder they could even see Hotwire digging around in there like a wild dog searching for scraps at the dump.
"Sheesh, maybe the Spellmet wasn't stolen after all," Limbo quipped with a grimace at the mess. "Might just have to hire a team of archeologists to unearth it or something."
"Yeah, sorry about this," Career apologized ashamedly. "Unfortunately, this is commonplace at my company. Our stores and products might be minimalistic, but our offices are a disaster most of the time. You'd be forgiven for thinking we ran a daycare with how much junk is laying around at H.Q. Not that my personal office is in any better a state. I'm almost as bad honestly."
Hotwire pulled himself away from his search to shake his head dejectedly. "It's really not here, sir. I swear we wouldn't have misplaced something so valuable."
Career rubbed his temple, visibly holding himself back. "Whatever the case may be, we have to get the Spellmet back. If somepony really plans to abuse it and people get hurt, everypony is going to pin the blame on me. It's not only going to hurt my reputation, but my company, and my chances in the upcoming election."
Limbo just stared bemusedly at him. "I mean, personally, I'd be more concerned about the people who got hurt before myself, but, you know, different strokes."
Career cast her an impatient glare. "Well, let's hope we can avoid that conundrum altogether. Now, are you going to start your investigation or just stand here lollygagging?"
"Loosen up the bridle, will ya?" Limbo sneered, growing tired of Career's attitude. "Just take a few deep breaths and let a professional do her work, yeah?"
Career backed off, keeping his mouth shut to let Limbo take charge.
"Now then..." she started, glancing around at the mess. "I think the most important info right now would be to figure out who's been in and out of here since the thing vanished. Leaf claimed it was still here when he was last in here. Might need Mr. Muscles to help out on this."
"Me, ma'am?"
"Gyah!" Limbo jumped with a start, finding the hulking security guard standing right behind her. "Geez, how'd a big lug like you sneak up on me like that? Well, whatever. What's your name, big guy?"
"Quad Blast, ma'am."
"Okay, question: when was Loose Leaf last in here?"
Quad blinked blankly.
"My brother," Career elaborated. "Light blue coat, white mane..."
"Oh, okay. Uh, that musta been fifteen minutes ago, or somthin'."
"And how many people have been in here since?" asked Limbo.
"Not countin' you guys, like, ten."
Limbo arched an eyebrow, staring up authoritatively. "'Like, ten'? Is it ten or isn't it?"
"Nah, nah, it was 'xactly ten, ma'am. Positive," Quad stated assuredly.
"And you remember all their faces?"
He nodded proudly. "Sure do, ma'am."
Limbo grimaced. "Okay, stop calling me that. I'm not an old mare."
"What should I call ya, then? I ain't good with names, 'member?"
"Just call me 'Detective.' Although this little tangent doesn't fill me with confidence for my next question, I'm gonna ask anyway. You wouldn't happen to remember the names of the people who've been through here, would you?"
Quad clammed up, his cheeks flushing awkwardly as he broke eye contact.
Limbo turned to Career. "Why'd you hire this guy as a security guard?"
"A physical description of a person is better than nothing. Besides, he's done a stellar job up until now. We've had whack jobs try to break into H.Q. before, and Quad here didn't let them get ten feet in before he jumped them. He's a gentle giant most of the time, but when it comes time to do his job, he's not afraid to break some dumb sap's leg."
"The sound of bones crunchin' makes me feel sick, but I gotta do what I gotta do," Quad said with a shrug.
"Pleasant. So, do you remember anything other than a person's coat and mane color?" Limbo inquired. "Like, if they're wearing anything, or whatever?"
"Yeah, I 'members 'em all wearing their passes." Quad held up his own lanyard. "They all looked like mine."
"Which is to say, they all worked for Mango Career."
Quad tilted his head. "Who?"
Limbo shook her head with a sigh, pointing to Career. "Your boss, bucko."
"So we can safely say that the thief is one of my employees," Career assumed with a disappointed sigh. "I suppose that makes sense considering only they'd have access to this room."
"I only let 'em in if their pass looked like mine," Quad reaffirmed.
"Well, I don't know how much help that actually is," Limbo expressed doubtfully. "Even if we were to assume that the thief isn't a changeling, your guy here only remembers faces. Would he remember if somepony does or doesn't work for you?"
"How do you mean?" Career asked curiously.
"Well, if he was identifying everypony solely by what lanyards they were wearing and couldn't remember anypony's names, it's entirely possible that the thief could've just stolen somepony else's lanyard. But, like I said, we might also be dealing with a changeling who could've disguised themselves as one of your employees, and correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure changelings can also imitate clothing and accessories."
"So would the best course of action be to have Quad give us a description of everypony who's been to the storage room since Leaf was here and interrogate each of them?" Career presumed.
"Probably. If we are looking for a changeling, then one of the people chunky here saw will say they haven't been in here during that time frame. It'll be nothing concrete, but it's all we've got to go on right now. We just have to hope Princess Twilight trapped the thief in here with us. Alright, brutus, round up those ten people, would ya?"
"My name's Quad Blast, Detective," he corrected with a furrowed brow.
She cast him a deadpan stare. "Really? Wanna call the kettle black while you're at it?"
***** ***** *****
"So you haven't seen anything?"
"Nope. Nothing I'd called 'suspicious activity,'" a mare working for Mango Inc. told Samba.
"And you didn't go into the storage room at all today?"
"Only briefly this morning to grab an extension cord, but that was before the expo even started."
Samba sighed with disappointment. "Alright. Sorry to bother you."
The mare shrugged and went on her way to get back to her work.
"This isn't really going how I planned," Samba muttered in defeat. "We've asked a dozen people already, and nopony's been able to give us any information."
Luster Dawn placed a sympathetic hoof on her shoulder, trying to smile reassuringly. "Don't beat yourself up, Samba. Princess Twilight once told me that sometimes no progress can be progress. It's a process of elimination. As you whittle down the incorrect answers, you'll eventually get to the correct answer."
Samba managed an envious grin. "I wish I had somepony as smart as the princess to teach me when I was growing up."
Luster blushed modestly. "Yeah, well, I more or less just lucked into it."
"If nothing else, we are just killing time until Limbo finishes her investigation, ya?" said Bubble Gust, fluttering above them.
"I guess..." Samba breathed, Gust's words not doing much to make her feel better. "I just wish I could walk away from this feeling like I contributed something a little more meaningful."
"Well, maybe Leaf has found something out by now," Gust mentioned. "Perhaps we should find him as see what he knows."
Luster nodded in eager agreement. "Yeah, that's a good idea. He was in the storage room recently too, right? Maybe he has something that could help and doesn't even realize it himself."
Samba managed a more genuine smile. "Okay, that sounds like a plan."
"I will get a breezie's eye view of the place and see if I can spot him in the crowd," said Gust as she flew up towards the convention center's high ceiling.
While they waited for their scout, Luster cast a friendly grin at Samba. "Hey, if it means anything, we might not have gotten much useful info, but this has still been kinda fun. You know, baring the uneasiness of dealing with a potentially dangerous criminal."
Samba quirked a doubtful eyebrow, figuring she was just trying to cheer her up. "Really? All we've been doing is wandering aimlessly and talking to random people."
Luster shrugged, blushing slightly. "I don't know, I'm still a little new to this 'friendship' thing, so just hanging out with somepony who isn't Princess Twilight is still kind of a new experience. I guess I was worried that I was coming off as a bit awkward. Have I been awkward?"
Samba blinked, a little confused. "What? No. Actually, you've been coming off as pretty sociable, if you ask me."
Luster breathed a sigh of relief. "Really? That's a relief. I thought maybe my attempts at small talk sounded a little forced."
Samba shook her head. "Not at all. If anything, I feel like I've been the awkward one with my pessimism."
"No way," Luster assured her. "Acknowledging your weaknesses is a sign that you want things to change. That's something else Princess Twilight and the professors at the School of Friendship taught me."
Samba didn't say anything, she just mulled over the younger mare's words. It was a little strange how somepony so young could be so wise, but then again, she was Princess Twilight's student. In any case, she thought that Luster might have a point. For as pessimistic and defeatist as she was being, she wouldn't be doing what she was doing right now if not for a desire to change the things about herself that she didn't like.
But before they could continue their conversation, Bubble Gust glided back down. "I found him. He was wandering around near the back of the convention center," she told them, pointing toward the main stage, but indicating the area beyond it.
"Still questioning the crew himself, I guess," Luster surmised.
"The area was actually pretty barren. Only him and a few other ponies," Gust mentioned. "But at least it was easy to find him. Hopefully we can catch up before he heads somewhere else."
"Then let's hurry," Samba suggested as the three followed Bubble Gust's lead.
They started making their way back to the main stage, cutting through the backstage area where the crew was still busy cleaning up or discussing the missing Spellmet. Beyond there, through the back wall of thick curtains, was a sparsely populated area that was obviously meant to be off limits to ordinary attendees. Only a few convention staff members were around, and considering the three mares only possessed regular passes, they figured they might not be allowed back there. Still, they had a clear view of the area from where they were, poking their heads through the black curtains. There was just one problem...
"I don't see Leaf," said Samba, glancing between the few people in the area.
"We must have missed him. Drat," Gust expressed with a wistful sigh. "That stallion is always playing hard to get."
"He couldn't have gotten far, right?" said Luster. "Just fly up and have a quick look again, Ms. Gust."
Bubble Gust nodded and was about to do just that.
"Wait, hang on," Samba insisted keeping her voice down.
Luster Dawn and Bubble Gust followed her gaze. There were a few doors visible from where they stood, but some ways to their left, one of the doors opened. A brown unicorn stallion with a red mane emerged, however, he didn't immediately exit the room. Instead, he cautiously glanced around as if looking for something. The few staff members that were present were too far away and engrossed in conversation to take notice of him, but he somehow didn't notice the three colorful mares partially hidden behind the thick curtains, as he walked out as if nopony could see him. He was wearing a pair of saddlebags on his back, and, notably, didn't appear to have a lanyard. He began walking off in the opposite direction from where Samba, Luster, and Bubble Gust were.
Without much hesitation, Samba clumsily pulled out her spellphone, snapping a quick, albeit off-center photo of the guy before he disappeared around the corner.
"What are you doing?" Luster asked her curiously as the three of them retracted their heads from the curtain.
"You can't say that didn't look suspicious, right? He was looking shifty as heck," answered Samba.
Too curious for her own good, Samba poked her head out again. The few staff members that had been there were now apparently heading off the other way from the suspicious individual, leaving the area devoid of people. Taking her chance, Samba hurried over toward the door the stallion had come from, Luster and Bubble Gust cautiously following her. Samba tried to open it, but could only jiggle the handle slightly.
"Dang. Locked."
"I wonder what's in there," pondered Luster curiously.
"Can you use your magic to open it, Luster?" inquired Gust.
The young mare balked at the suggestion. "What?! Are you nuts?! That'd be illegal, right? Like, breaking and entering."
"That's weird, though. I didn't see that guy lock the door behind him," Samba noted curiously.
"Maybe it is a one way door," Gust speculated. "Perhaps there is another way in from somewhere else. We should ask a staff member to open it for us."
"That might have to wait. What if that guy was the thief? We have to tell Limbo and Princess Twilight right away." Samba took out her spellphone again. "I'll send you the picture I took, Luster. You go show it to the princess and I'll try and track down Limbo, okay? We can reconvene backstage."
Luster nodded, looking a tad nervous all of a sudden. "Uh, o-okay."
Samba noticed the quiver in her voice. "Um, maybe you should go with her, Gust."
Bubble Gust agreed, guiding a somewhat uneasy Luster back out towards the convention center proper to inform Princess Twilight of the suspicious person. Meanwhile, Samba needed to track down Limbo. If this sketchy guy was the Spellmet thief, then that meant he could also be the Ghost of Baltimare. Limbo was going to want to hear about this.
***** ***** *****
Ten ponies—a mixture of mares and stallions, and earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi—were lined up all in a row. They were all ill at ease, for each of them knew why they were there, but were worried they'd be pinned for a crime they didn't commit. Limbo paced back and forth, eyeing up each one of them with harsh scrutiny as though this were a police lineup.
"So, these are all the potential malcontents, huh?" Limbo uttered as if to intimidate them.
Quad Blast nodded his head. "Yup. I 'members all of 'em goin' in and out of the store room."
"Hmm..." Limbo narrowed her eyes, scanning the group of nervous ponies. Given how much they were sweating, it was difficult to determine which one was actually the guilty party. So it was time to start squeezing them for information. Limbo suddenly slid over to one pegasus stallion in the group, eliciting a wince from him. "When were you in the store room and what were you doing?!"
"I-I don't remember what time!" he stammered in a panic. "I-I just know it was after Mr. Career's presentation, that's all!"
Limbo narrowed her eyes insistently.
The stallion gulped. "I-I just went in there to put away some lights, I swear!"
Limbo glanced back at Quad.
"Saw 'im with the lights. Came back out with nuthin'," the security guard answered assuredly.
The detective nodded, but gave the guy one last warning glare before moving on, letting him breath a sigh of relief. Limbo next turned her attention to a young unicorn mare who was practically quivering. "Looking a little hot under the collar there, miss. Something gnawing at your conscience?" Limbo pressed threateningly.
She forced a shaky smile in a vain attempt to seem nonchalant, but the beads of sweat said more than she could. Her eyes shifted between Limbo and Mango Career, her boss standing quietly nearby and waiting with a furrowed brow for her response. "N-No, of course not. I-I was just doing my job, moving, uh... stuff from... you know... point A to p-point B. Yeah."
Limbo cocked an eyebrow. "'Moving stuff,' huh? You put that on your résumé? Hey, beefcake, what was she moving?"
Quad gave his coworker a suspicious look. "Weren't moving nuthin' from what I seen. Walked in empty-hooved, came out empty-hooved. Was in there an awful long time too."
"Is that right?" Limbo sneered, getting all up in the mare's face. "What were you doin' in there that took so long, huh? Maybe something you shouldn't have?"
The mare's lips began to quiver, and in just a few moments under the pressure Limbo was applying, she cracked. "Okay! I admit it! I did a bad!"
Mango Career took a step forward, surprised, but hopeful.
"We were so busy, and there was no time to step outside!" the mare explained guiltily. "So I... I took a smoke break in the store room!"
Limbo blinked. "A... smoke break?"
"I hadn't had a cigarette all morning. I felt like I was gonna lose it..." the mare whined, falling back onto her haunches, practically on the verge of tears. The pegasus mare standing beside her in the lineup placed a sympathetic hoof on her shoulder to comfort her.
"I thought somethin' smelled funny," Quad muttered. "Jus' thought I was thinkin' too hard again."
Limbo rolled her eye with a groan. "Jeez, you really know how to pick 'em, huh, Career?"
Career sighed in disappointment. "Her nicotine addiction is something we'll address another time. We've more important things to focus on right now."
The mare hung her head in shame, the supportive expression from her coworkers making this look like an impromptu intervention as opposed to an interrogation.
"Well, whatever," Limbo said with a shrug. "Let's just keep moving down the line here."
The other ponies tensed up, their reactions suggesting they had their own little skeletons they were hiding, but Limbo wasn't exactly hopeful at this point that any of these people had the mental acuity to pull off a heist.
"Limbo, there you are!"
The detective's attention was drawn to Samba, who was quickly trotting over.
"I need to show you something," Samba said.
"Can it wait? I'm kinda busy interrogating here," explained Limbo impatiently, eager to drill the rest of her suspects.
"This is important," insisted Samba. "I think you should see this."
Reluctantly, Limbo relented to the request with a quiet groan. "Alright, what's up?"
Samba removed her spellphone and showed her the picture she took of the strange stallion.
"What, you the paparazzi now? This some celebrity who burped in public or something and you're gonna slam them on national T.V. for it?"
"What? No. Me, Luster Dawn, and Bubble Gust saw this guy come out of that door there, and he was acting super shifty."
Limbo took the phone and analyzed the photo. "Yeah? Hmm... Yo, big dude, you recognize this guy?" She showed Quad the picture.
He looked it over quickly. "Mmm, nope. Never seen 'im afore. Ain't even wearin' a pass, so I wouldn'ta let 'im in the store room anyhow."
Limbo looked at the picture again. "Huh. That is weird. You know, you might be onto something here, Samba. Can't say if it's related to the theft or not, but it's not like anypony's going anywhere with the princess's barrier around the place. Speaking of which—"
"Got it covered. Luster Dawn is showing Princess Twilight the picture now," Samba told her with a grin.
"Nice work, Samba," Limbo lauded proudly. "This at least gives me something to go off of. Now it's just a matter of tracking the guy down."
Samba glanced to the lineup of ten ponies, most of them breathing sighs of deep relief, save for one mare he was trembling like she was just traumatized by something. "I thought you were busy. You wanna finish up here first?"
Limbo scoffed dismissively. "Pfft, based on what I've seen so far, I doubt I'm gonna get anything from this lot." She held up Samba's spellphone. "Hey, mind if I borrow this so I can ask around if anypony's seen him?"
Samba hesitated, remembering what Limbo had told her about Poe's phone. "Uh, sure, but just leave the picture open and don't touch anything."
"Gotcha." Limbo was about to be on her way, but the phone suddenly buzzed in her hooves. She stared at it for a moment, then at Samba uncertainly.
"Uh, just... let me." Samba took the phone back, checking her texts. "Oh, it's Luster." She began reading, her eyes suddenly widening. "Oh! Apparently Bubble Gust spotted the guy over in the magic wing of the building!"
Limbo began to trot in place impatiently. "Okay, okay! Uh, get that picture out again and gimme! I gotta hurry!"
"R-Right." Samba did just that and passed the phone back to Limbo.
"Okay, I'll go try to nab the perp!" Limbo briefly turned back to the ten ponies, as well as Quad and Career. "Uh, you guys can just, uh... Whatever, I don't care, figure something out." And that was all she said before she bolted off, Samba's phone between her teeth.
Samba hesitated. She may have helped, but she had a bad feeling in her gut. So, even if it meant another scolding, she decided to discreetly try and follow Limbo.
***** ***** *****
Limbo zigged and zagged her way through the crowd on her way to the west wing of the convention, bumping into many people in her haste and earning more than a few irate glowers. Her rushed movements did have an unfortunate effect of making her look suspicious when everypony was on alert because of the princess's shield, so she'd had to slow down every now and then to explain that she was a detective to more people than she cared to. That meant lost time, which meant the suspect could be somewhere else by now.
She spent the better part of five minutes just clumsily weaving around and keeping her single eye open for her target, occasionally rearing up to get a better view of her surroundings—what she wouldn't give to be a pegasus right about now. But seeing as she was having difficulty spotting the guy in the crowd herself, she decided to show the picture on Samba's phone to some random strangers in the hopes that they had. No luck there, unfortunately.
However, Limbo could see Princess Twilight's head poking up above the crowd. It might behoove her to ask for the princess's aid in weeding out the suspect, but she looked like she was still busy keeping the attendees calm and under control.
Samba's phone suddenly vibrated again, shuddering between Limbo's teeth and sending uncomfortable vibrations through her skull. She shook it off and looked at the phone. A notification on the screen said that she'd received another text from Luster Dawn, but Limbo hesitated. There was a big button on the screen that said, "Open," but Limbo was reluctant to press it in fear of somehow ruining Samba's phone. But given the last text Luster sent, this could be pertinent. So, taking a chance, Limbo held a shaky hoof over the phone, closed her eyes, and prayed to Celestia that she didn't botch this with her tech-illiterate hooves. She heard the clack of her hoof against the screen, didn't hear the ominous beeping of a self-destruct protocol, and reopened her eye.
Much to her surprise and relief, Luster's text was now open on the screen. Limbo took a moment to compose herself before reading it.
Gust saw him again over by the bathrooms.
Limbo glanced around in the airspace above the crowd. Apparently, Bubble Gust was doing some reconnaissance for them, but she couldn't spot her anywhere at the moment. She was a pretty tiny person in a very large venue, and there were plenty of signs and banners hanging from the rafters that could obscure a little creature like her. But Limbo didn't have time to waste, not even bothering to reopen the photo on Samba's phone, but mostly because she didn't want to push her luck. She wasn't about to let this lead slip away, so she quickly asked somepony which way the bathrooms were and hurried off like a bat out of Tartarus, at this point looking more like somepony who was desperate to use the toilet more than anything.
She eventually found herself in a less populated area of the convention, away from the booths and displays in the magic section. Only a few staff members were hanging around near an emergency exit—not that it did much good with Twilight's barrier in place. However, there was one other person within sight: a low-flying breezie. Bubble Gust was hovering about twenty feet from the ground—still some distance from the ceiling, but close enough to the ground to be within reasonable earshot.
Limbo was about to call out to her, but Bubble Gust spotted her as well, holding a hoof to her lips to sign to Limbo to stay silent. The breezie then pointed down the way, towards the hallway leading to the bathrooms. There, Limbo spotted him; the stallion from Samba's picture with the brown coat and red mane. He was just standing there as though waiting for something. Limbo tried to stay out of his line of sight for now, signaling for Bubble Gust to fly down to her.
"What is your plan?" Gust asked in a hushed tone.
"Still figuring that out, but at least I've got a bead on the guy now. Here." Limbo held out Samba's phone to Gust. "Can you get this back to Samba?"
Gust cast her a deadpan stare. "Really? I cannot even wear a lanyard. How am I supposed to deliver a spellphone across the building?"
"You're resourceful, figure it out. I've got bigger fish to fry right now," Limbo said, keeping her eye trained on her target.
Gust rolled her eyes with a groan. "Fine. I will try and drag it over to where Luster Dawn and the princess are and try not to get trampled on the way."
"Yeah, yeah, you do that," Limbo muttered dismissively.
The detective started making her way over to the suspect. She decided to act casual, hoping that he wouldn't see her as a threat and was just heading for the bathroom, then she could maybe jump him when she got close. Then again, she couldn't even be entirely sure if this guy was even doing anything wrong. Maybe trying to strike up a conversation could yield some results.
However, she didn't even get close enough to say hello before he happened to turn in her direction. The moment the stallion's eyes landed on her, a look of panic came over him and he bolted down the corridor towards the bathrooms.
And that was all the evidence Limbo needed. She galloped after the guy as fast as her legs could carry her. In his panic, he'd essentially cornered himself by running this way, and she caught a quick glimpse of his red tail disappearing into the stallions' bathroom. Limbo couldn't care less about the social ramifications of chasing him in there when she was in such hot pursuit. He wasn't getting away from her now.
Limbo charged through the door, keeping her guard up in case he was waiting to ambush her, but the stallion was frantically looking around for something on the other end of the room, perhaps an escape route like a vent or something. But, unfortunately for him, he was trapped like a rat in a smelly cage.
Seeing no other way out, the perp had no choice but to face off with Limbo. The two stood in silence for a few moments, their glares clashing as though this were to be a fated battle. And Limbo knew why. This had to be them; the person Limbo had been chasing tirelessly for the past few years. A random stranger wouldn't have reacted to the sight of her like he did.
"So, we meet at last. Again," Limbo stated dramatically. "Not gonna lie, this is bittersweet. It's like the end of an era. Whaddaya say we make this a day to remember, 'Ghost'?"
The stallion just continued to glare, staying silent.
"Really? Nothing?" Limbo grumbled in frustration. "We finally have our big face off after all this time and you've got nothing to say? No long monologue? No quips about how you've killed me once already? No threats towards Poe?"
Again, he just glared in silence.
Limbo breathed a disgruntled huff through her nostrils. "Geez, you're such a buzzkill. Fine, whatever, let's get this over with, then."
The perp threw his saddlebags on the ground, quickly reaching a hoof in a removing a short dagger.
"Ooh, you came prepared. Musta been a hassle getting that past security," Limbo remarked fearlessly, flashing a challenging smirk. "Let's see what good it does you."
Limbo suddenly rushed toward him, the knife doing nothing to deter her. The stallion thrust the blade forward to meet her head on, but, putting her police training to good use, Limbo expertly batted his hoof away and countered with a firm chop to the side of his head. The stallion staggered over to the sinks, using the counter to regain his balance.
"Well, that's disappointing," Limbo sighed as her opponent recovered. "I was hoping you'd offer just as much a physical challenge as you did mental, but in the end, you're just another thug."
Seemingly taking offense to the comment, the thief lunged at her, tackling her to the ground and wasting no time plunging the dagger into her chest.
Limbo winced in pain, but cast another cocky smirk up at her attacker. "Gonna have to try harder than that this time."
The stallion seemed a little surprised by her nonchalant response to being stabbed through the ribs. So he removed the knife and jammed it right back in, but into the side of her neck this time. But, again, Limbo's smarmy grin still showed through whatever pain he was inflicting. Seemingly taking her lackadaisical reactions as a challenge, a sinister smile stretched across his muzzle. He grabbed the blade's handle with both hooves, pushing it all the way to the hilt and dragging it across her neck. Limbo's partially rotted flesh split rather easily against the sharp edge, peeling her head off like the lid of a tin can. She let out a loud, exaggerated gurgle, her single eye rolling back into her skull.
Her body went limp as the stallion finished decapitating her, her coagulated blood not leaving much of a mess thankfully. The thief released the knife as he stood up, staring down at the unmoving, headless corpse on the bathroom floor. Curiously, he picked up Limbo's severed head. Her tongue was lolling out of her mouth almost comically, and the silver of her eye could barely be seen from how far back it had rolled.
Obviously he couldn't just leave a dead body on the floor, but there wasn't exactly much he could do to dispose of it right now. So he dragged her corpse over to one of the stalls, propping her up against the toilet seat so that somepony who happened to come in might just think it was a sick pony vomiting. Then, to add insult to injury, he dropped Limbo's head into the toilet bowl, causing a wet splat as she landed face down in the dirty water.
The stallion gently closed the stall door, then took a moment to recompose himself. But before he even had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief, the stall door suddenly burst open again, striking him violently in the backside and knocking him over. Glancing back quickly, his pupils shrunk as he witnessed the horrifying sight of a headless mare standing over him, the knife wound in her chest healing over before his eyes. He attempted to scramble back to his hooves, but Limbo's body jumped on top of him, wrestling him back to the ground and effectively pinning his hooves and immobilizing him despite not being able to see what she was doing.
Limbo would have liked to make a snarky comment right about know, but that desire was stymied by the toilet water in her mouth. Unfortunately, she was too busy holding down her perp to retrieve her head, so even though she had him incapacitated, she was still in a bit of a predicament. Suffice to say, the next person to walk through the bathroom door was going to be witness to quite the sight.
***** ***** *****
Samba hurriedly weaved through the crowd in search of Limbo. She'd unfortunately lost sight of her in the sea of people, so tracking her down might be a chore. She wasn't exactly concerned for her well being—honestly, she was more worried about getting her phone back intact—but Samba knew she felt the same way. Limbo's own safety wasn't a concern to her, so Samba expected her to be a little reckless. And in a densely populated area like the convention, that could be risky. So it was in Samba's best interest to keep her eye on her partner.
"Samba!"
Samba halted, recognizing Luster Dawn's voice through the cacophony of other voices. Both she and Bubble Gust could be seen hurrying over to her.
Luster held out a spellphone—Samba's spellphone. "Here."
Samba received it, but cast a confused look back at her. "I gave this to Limbo. Where is she?"
"She chased the thief into the bathroom," Bubble Gust explained.
"Is she okay?"
Gust shrugged. "She did not come back out before I left to find Luster."
"Where's the bathroom?" Samba asked urgently.
"Are you sure it is a good idea to follow her?" questioned Gust. "It could be dangerous."
Samba hesitated. "I-I know. But... who else is gonna help her if something happens?"
Bubble Gust observed the concerned look in Samba's eyes, then began fluttering off. "This way."
Samba and Luster hurriedly followed Bubble Gust to the west wing of the building and to the corridor leading to the bathrooms. They briefly glanced between the stallions' and mares' bathrooms.
"Uh, which one did they go into?" asked Luster, hoping for one answer over the other.
"I did not see," answered Bubble Gust.
Samba just decided to swallow her dignity for the time being, placing her hoof upon the door to the stallions' room and cautiously pushed it open. But the sight she witnessed on the other side immediately prompted her to slam it shut once more, startling Luster and Bubble Gust before they had a chance to see inside. Samba just stood there momentarily, eyes wide and unblinking.
"What's the matter, Samba? You look like you saw a ghost," Luster commented, not realizing how close that actually was to the truth.
"Um..." Samba flashed a very forced and shaky grin in an effort to hopefully deter any further curiosity. "I-It looks like Limbo has things under control. Uh, I'm gonna go in and see if she needs any help. You two stay out here, okay?"
The other two mares shared puzzled looks at her strange behavior, but stepped back silently to let her do her thing.
Samba carefully slipped inside, taking a moment to process the scene in the bathroom. She certainly wasn't expecting to be staring straight at the open neck of Limbo's reanimated body as she kept a guy pinned to the ground. But the question was: where was her head?
"Limbo?" Samba called out.
She received a response in the form of wet and aggravated burbling. Samba followed the sound to one of the bathroom stalls, recoiling at the sight of Limbo's head face down in the toilet bowl. Limbo continued to gurgle desperately into the water.
Samba groaned quietly, knowing what she had to do, but not being too chuffed about it. "I really wish I could say this was the most disgusting thing I've ever seen in a public bathroom..."
With no lack of hesitation, Samba reluctantly reached in and grabbed Limbo's wet head. This was one of those moments were she really wished she could use magic, but she managed to soldier through it for Limbo's sake.
Once free from her porcelain prison, Limbo immediately spat the water out of her mouth in disgust. "Ugh. I know this is rich coming from me, but that was gross. Guess I should at least be thankful the last guy in here remembered to flush. Thanks for the rescue, Samba. I owe you another one."
Samba flipped the head around to look Limbo in the face, the detective's mane sopping wet with toilet water. "You were just lucky it was me that happened to show up. Luster Dawn and Bubble Gust are right outside."
"Then what're you waiting for? I can't keep this guy down all day."
Samba carried Limbo's head back to her body, making sure to hold her at leg's length to avoid as much of the dripping water as possible. Being careful not to get too close to the struggling perp underneath Limbo, Samba positioned Limbo's head over her neck, letting the necromancy spell do its work and reconnect the flesh and sinew.
Limbo rolled her reattached head around with a relieved moan. "Much better." She then shot a cocksure smirk down at her adversary. "Kill me once, shame on you. Kill me twice... Uh... Well, you couldn't, that's the point."
"So this guy really is the Ghost?" Samba inquired, looking him over from a safe distance as he squirmed.
"They have to be. They definitely recognized me when they saw me. All things considered, they didn't have quite the same reaction you did when you found out about my 'condition.' Even went so far as to completely decapitate me." Again, she smirked triumphantly. "Guess you couldn't get Poe to talk, huh? Had to learn the hard way that me and her fell from the same stubborn tree."
Her attacker didn't say anything, just continuing to wriggle beneath her.
Limbo grimaced. "You know, you're really sucking the satisfaction out of this for me. Samba, you wanna go get something to tie this guy up with?"
***** ***** *****
Having apprehended the culprit, Samba enlisted the help of Quad Blast to carry the Ghost back to the backstage area, the perpetrator tied up with several spare extension cords. Most of the Mango Inc. staff were told to vacate the area for the time being, while Luster Dawn and Bubble Gust went to inform the princess of what happened. That left Limbo, Samba, Mango Career, and Quad Blast gathered around the bound criminal. But even now, all the Ghost did was sit quietly and sneer back at them—primarily Limbo.
After a short time, Luster Dawn and Bubble Gust returned, and following behind them was Princess Twilight and a few police officers, including Sergeant Night Owl.
"I've lowered the barrier and the police are escorting the attendees out of the building," said Princess Twilight.
Night Owl cast an inquisitive look at the captured stallion, then gave Limbo an indifferent glare. "Eventful day?"
Limbo shrugged. "Beats a night at the movies."
Owl sighed with some slight annoyance. "Alright, the princess explained what was going on, but I'm gonna need some details for this report."
"Guy stole something, tried to attack me, got his butt whooped. That good?" explained Limbo with a grin.
"What'd he steal?"
"My Spellmet," answered Career.
Owl arched an eyebrow. "Your what?"
"A device that lets any magic-using creature copy spells that are logged into it," Twilight elaborated concisely.
After hearing that description, Owl's eyes widened, turning to Limbo.
The detective flashed him a toothy and victorious grin. "You heard that right, punk."
Owl glared at the stallion wrapped with extension cords. "You really think this guy's the Ghost, huh?"
"You still doubting me?"
"Just a little hard to believe that it would be that easy."
Limbo closed her eye for a moment. "You're not wrong. Something is definitely still off here."
"Can we focus on what's important right now?" Career insisted, snarling at the criminal. "Where's the Spellmet?"
The stallion didn't respond.
"They've been like this the whole time," Limbo told him. "Lips zipped tight. Kind of annoying, honestly."
"It's probably in his saddlebags," said Samba, holding up the bags she'd retrieved from the bathroom.
Limbo took the bags and dumped their contents out on the ground. However, all that came out was a bunch of cables, batteries, and other spare gear for electronics, but no Spellmet.
Career growled at the stallion, grabbing him furiously by the shoulders. "Where is it?! What'd you do with it?!"
His anger didn't get any sort of reaction from him.
"I'm gonna have to ask you to back away from the suspect, sir," Owl warned Career tersely, prompting the incensed businessman to back off reluctantly.
"It must still be here somewhere, right?" assumed Luster Dawn.
Samba's eyes suddenly widened. "Oh! That's right! We saw him coming out of a room out there," she said, pointing toward the black curtains in the back of the area. "The door was locked when we checked, so maybe he hid it in there."
"Quad, find a staff member and have them unlock the door," Career ordered.
The burly stallion nodded and hurried off.
While they waited, Owl eyed up the criminal one more time. "So, you haven't been able to get anything from him, huh?"
Limbo shook her head. "Nope. Like I said, there's something weird about this whole thing."
"How so?" asked Twilight.
"Well, not only have they not made a single sound the whole time, but they came at me with a knife held in their hoof. Guy's a unicorn, so why hold it with your hoof, right?"
"Maybe he has funnel horn," Luster Dawn speculated, casting a quick glance at Samba.
"I doubt it. I'm confident this person's the Ghost of Baltimare. And as I stated earlier, I have my suspicions that they may be a changeling." Limbo eyed the perp in vexation. "But it's not just that. Everything about their movements was clumsy and reckless. And we haven't really gotten them to react to anything at all since we apprehended them. Can barely get them to look at us when we're talking to them."
Princess Twilight hummed in thought, staring analytically at the stallion. Then, without any warning, she loosed a bolt of magic from her horn. It struck the criminal square in the chest, and his body immediately began to disintegrate into pink, magical dust, the extension cords falling to the ground.
Everypony else reeled in horror at the sight.
"What the hay?! What was that?!" Owl blurted in shock.
"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh," Samba uttered shakily. "Sh-She just... killed him!"
"What the frick are you doing?!" Limbo bellowed at the princess. "That was the Ghost! We didn't get to find out where they were keeping the victims!"
"That wasn't a real person," Twilight stated calmly.
Everypony blinked blankly as they let their brains process that.
Luster Dawn stared quizzically at her teacher. "It wasn't?"
"No. That was a copy created using the similo duplexis spell."
"How did you know that?" inquired Bubble Gust, amazed by the princess's perceptiveness.
Instead of answering, Twilight turned to Mango Career. "Mr. Career, can the Spellmet replicate a spell with the same effectiveness as the original caster?"
Career hesitated, still a little shaken by what he'd just witnessed. "Uh, well, yes, it should. It can only output so much power, but most spells are more about technique rather than power, and that's what the Spellmet emulates. Anypony—even somepony with funnel horn—should be able to cast the spells logged within."
"Why is that important, though?" asked Samba. "Doesn't this just mean the culprit is somewhere else wearing the Spellmet? The one you used in the presentation had similo duplexis recorded, right?"
"Based on Detective Limbo's description, the version of similo duplexis that this person used was an imperfect version. The spell can be difficult to perform due to how overwhelming it can be on the senses."
"I can attest to that," Luster interjected. "It was like I could see, hear, even smell everything twice. It was super weird. I couldn't even concentrate on maintaining the spell it was so disorienting."
"Precisely. This is why there are lesser versions of the spell that reduce sensory overload by removing certain functions from the copy. For example, the ability to speak or use magic."
"So how does that help us?" questioned Limbo. "They just used the lesser version, then, right?"
"Technically speaking, the different versions of the spells are considered separate spells. That is to say, the lesser version wasn't logged in the Spellmet's memory."
Limbo tapped her chin in thought. "So what you're saying is that the Ghost already knew that version of simplo dupli-whatever?"
"That's very possible. But even then, it can still be difficult to maintain a spell like that without practice, as the copy will mostly just mirror the caster's movements unless they have great concentration. Studies have shown people can have better control if they close their eyes, or restrain their own movements somehow."
Limbo and Owl exchanged knowing glances. "You know what that means, right, Owl?" said Limbo seriously.
Owl simply nodded. "It had to be the Ghost. One of the victims knew a similar spell."
"But that doesn't make sense, does it?" Samba interjected. "How would the Ghost be able to use the spell if they didn't have the Spellmet until now?"
"We don't know how adept with magic the Ghost actually is," Owl answered. "If a middle-aged librarian can use the spell, maybe the Ghost can too. They just had to force her to teach them the spell. But this also means the criminal is still at large."
Twilight hung her head remorsefully. "I guess I let my shield down a little prematurely. The real Ghost may have very well escaped by now. I'm sorry, Sergeant."
Owl waved off her apology, though not without a hint of frustration. "Don't blame yourself, Your Highness. Could've happened to anypony."
"Boss!"
Everypony turned to see Quad Blast returning, and leaning against his shoulder was Loose Leaf, looking more than a little haggard. Everypony hurried over to find out what had happened, noticing a few bruises forming on his chest and legs, but, more curiously, the inhibitor ring on his horn.
"We opened that locked door, an' your brother was lyin' on the floor, conked out," Quad explained.
Bubble Gust placed her tiny hooves on his muzzle, deep concern in her eyes. "What happened to you, Leafy?!"
"And what about the Spellmet?! Do you know where it is?!" Career asked hysterically.
Leaf groaned, casting his brother a weary, deadpan glare. "I'm fine, thanks for asking," he grumbled sarcastically. He removed himself from Quad's shoulder to stand on his own, rubbing his head and looking a little woozy. "I was asking around, figured I'd check as many nooks and crannies as I could, but when I opened the broom closet, some guy jumped me."
"That closet was a real mess, sir," Quad commented. "Musta been quite the struggle."
"Was kinda one-sided, if I'm being honest. It was pitch black in there, so I didn't even have a chance to see the guy before he knocked me out."
"And he slapped that ring on you to prevent you from magicking your way out if you woke up," Limbo presumed.
"Huh?" Leaf turned his eyes up to his horn. "Oh. I didn't even notice that."
"We can help you get that off back at the station," Night Owl offered.
"We should have you checked for any injuries while we're at it," suggested Twilight.
"I think I'm alright," Leaf claimed, though with noticeable exhaustion. "Just some bumps and bruises. I can tough it out."
"I am sure you can," cooed Bubble Gust, admiring his will.
Career let out a long groan, scuffing up his immaculately gelled mane in frustration. "I was hoping that the Ghost was simply hiding in there with the Spellmet..."
Leaf scowled. "Sorry, Mango. Just your unconscious little brother. Nothing important."
"Don't start, Leaf. You just said you were fine."
"Well, this explains a lot," Limbo sighed. "The copy was obviously a distraction. They must have intentionally made themselves look suspicious by not wearing a lanyard, even though they could've taken Leaf's after knocking him out, then just waited for me to find them outside the bathrooms. And I took the bait. They let the fake get caught, because, let's face it, that spell would likely make handling oneself in a fight kinda difficult, if Princess Twilight's description is anything to go by. Their capture then prompted the princess to lower the barrier, at which point the perp made their escape, blending in with the crowd that the police were evacuating."
"Which unfortunately means they got away with the Spellmet," Twilight reiterated regretfully.
"You shouldn't put so much pressure on yourself, Princess," said Luster Dawn with a reassuring smile. "You can't hold yourself responsible for every little thing when you've got a whole kingdom to run."
Twilight grinned back. "You're right. I should just have faith that the local law enforcement can handle this. Still, I must admit that today has been more exciting than I was expecting. It's been a long time since I've been involved in a good mystery. And one that doesn't just revolve around pastries," she giggled. "Even if the criminal escaped, I dare to say this has even been kinda fun."
"For you perhaps..." grumbled Career.
"Still, I do feel guilty," Twilight repeated. "So if there's anything I can do to help, just—"
Princess Twilight was interrupted by a buzzing sound, followed by a rather odd song.
"I'm the T to the W-I, L-I-G-H-T. And ain't no other pony break it down like me. I'm Twili—"
Twilight fumbled to remove her spellphone, desperately cutting her custom ringtone short. She glanced at the crowd of people staring at her with puzzled expressions, save for Luster Dawn, who was struggling to contain her laughter. Twilight grinned very awkwardly, her lavender face practically glowing red. "I, uh... I have to take this. Excuse me." She turned to step away, but briefly turned back with a harsh, authoritative glare. "And you'll forget you heard that."
As the princess stepped away to answer her phone, Limbo looked at Owl. "So, still think I've been grasping at straws?"
"You got lucky," he sneered. "But at least this gives us a place to start."
Career cocked an eyebrow. "A place to start? Where exactly is that?"
"Mango Inc.," Owl stated upfront.
The businessman balked at his insinuation. "What? Why?"
"The evidence is piling up, Mr. Career," said Owl, pointing to Leaf—specifically his horn. "This is the second case in two days where an inhibitor ring has been used, and I know your company is the leading manufacturer in Baltimare."
"On top of that, you'd have a hard time convincing me that this theft was not premeditated," added Limbo. "The Ghost clearly had inside knowledge about your invention, so the culprit has to be somepony who works at your company."
Career drew back, biting his lip as he clearly did not want to believe that. "As much as I'd like to argue otherwise, I suppose that makes some sense."
"And I've mentioned a few times already that I believe the Ghost is a changeling," Limbo reminded him. "You have many changelings working at Mango Inc., Mr. Career."
"Of course I do. I take pride in the diversity on display at our company," he answered defensively. "But you can't actually expect me to single out our changeling employees because of this. That would be profiling and discrimination."
Limbo shrugged. "I don't like it any more than you do, but if you want to help our investigation progress and get that prototype back, it'd be a way you can help."
Career grumbled reluctantly. "I'll... see what I can do."
After that, Twilight returned to the group with an exasperated sigh.
"What was that about, Princess?" asked Luster.
"That was Spike. He was in a panic over something. He was just rambling something about Discord, and goldfish, and hyperspace." Twilight ran a hoof through her mane with another sigh. "I swear, I can't leave the castle for a single day off without disaster striking. I'm sorry, Mr. Career, it looks like I'll have to cut my visit short. I wish I could help more."
Career flicked a hoof dismissively, though not without some disappointment. "That's fine. You were plenty help. Thank you for coming, Your Majesty."
"It was an honor to meet you," Samba expressed with a courteous bow. However, she jerked back up as a thought occurred to her. "Oh! Uh, before you go—and this is gonna sound kinda selfish—do you mind if I take a picture with you? F-For my daughter, obviously."
Twilight grinned accommodatingly. "Sure."
Samba gave Luster her spellphone to snap a quick pic of an exuberant Samba standing beside the princess.
"Alright, then." Twilight looked down to her student. "You ready to head home, Luster?"
The pink mare nodded with a grin. "Sure. But, uh, you go on ahead. I'll catch up in a minute."
Twilight smiled herself as she made to leave. "It was nice meeting all of you. Good luck with the investigation."
Luster Dawn looked to Samba with a big smile as she passed her spellphone back to her. "I gotta say, this was a pretty crazy day. Not gonna lie, I was kinda mentally rolling my eyes when the princess invited me to come out here with her. I knew it was just because she wanted to geek out at the stuff here. But it was pretty fun. You know, the scariness of the situation notwithstanding. I don't know if I could've handled it nearly as well if you weren't here, Samba."
Samba blushed, a little caught off guard by that comment. "R-Really? Uh, well, I'm glad I could help? Sorry, I'm not sure what to say in response to that."
"Well, in any case, it was great meeting you. I'll give you a text if I'm ever in Baltimare again so we can hang out. Or, you know, if you ever wanna just chat. You have my number."
"Okay. I'll stay in touch."
Samba was expecting a hoofshake before they said goodbye, but instead, Luster gave her a friendly hug. When the younger mare noticed the slightly bewildered look on Samba's face, she blushed nervously. "Oh, too much? Sorry, like I said, still kind of a newbie to this whole 'friendship' thing."
Samba waved it off with a smile. "That's okay. I'm not that experienced myself, if I'm being honest."
"Well, catch you later." Luster waved goodbye, hurrying off to catch up to the princess.
With that exchange over, Limbo gave Samba a coy nudge. "What, recruiting sidekicks of your own now? Gonna start your own agency to give me some competition?"
Samba's ears drooped. "I didn't overstep again, did I? Sorry, I just wanted to help."
Limbo shook her head. "Nah. You did good. And it looks like you learned a thing or two in the process."
Samba tilted her head in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"
The detective shrugged, but her smirk never faded. "You'll figure it out. Come on, let's put a bow on this whole thing and head home."
Limbo impatiently paced back and forth in her apartment, taking another swig of her coffee. Samba had yet to arrive, and she was eager to discuss the new developments in the Ghost case with her. The incident at the Magi-Tech Expo was a couple of days ago now, and Limbo hasn't been able to properly investigate due to town hall being closed for the weekend. As such, Limbo decided to give Samba the weekend off until they could get back at it on Monday.
Unfortunately, it seemed as thought the time off was messing with Samba's internal clock, as she was running a tad late, only serving to exacerbate Limbo's impatience. Her frantic pacing was starting to make Webber dizzy, the spider just silently watching her walk around with his eight beady eyes.
The sound of the kettle whistling caused Limbo to pause. She trotted over to turn off the burner, though at this point she expected she may have to turn it back on again in a few minutes. This was the third time she'd boiled the water ahead of time for Samba, but her assistant hadn't shown up to pour her tea yet.
She was starting to worry about her. Samba wasn't always the most punctual pony, but in the week or so that they'd been working together, she'd rarely been this late. Had she been beset upon by her stalker again when she was walking home last night? Maybe the Ghost has targeted her knowing now that she worked with Limbo. In either case, Limbo would feel responsible if something like that happened to her.
Limbo was about to head for the door and run over to Samba's apartment to check up on her, but as she reached for the door handle, it opened on its own.
Samba just walked in rather lethargically, like being a half an hour late was no big deal.
"Oh, there you are," Limbo said, forcing a stern look, but internally breathing a sigh of relief. "What took so long?"
Samba looked her in the eye only momentarily, then turned away and walked to the kitchen to prepare her tea.
It didn't take a genius to figure out that something was up, least of all a detective. Limbo was more than used to picking up on weird stuff like this, but Samba wasn't some criminal she needed to probe for information. Whatever was on her mind wasn't necessarily her business, but she wanted to see if she could help regardless.
"I get the impression something's wrong. Wanna share?"
Samba sighed as she listlessly stirred her tea. "It's... nothing." Realizing that she certainly didn't make it sound like nothing, she straightened up, repeating herself with a little more energy. "I mean, really, it's nothing serious. You don't have to worry about it."
Limbo didn't believe that for a second, but decided it might not be a good idea to press the issue. She shrugged dismissively. "Alright, whatever you say."
Samba took a sip of her tea, glancing between the kettle and Limbo. "You turned on the kettle for me?"
"Well, I wasn't expecting you to be late," Limbo answered tersely, though if she could still blush, her cheeks might have been a little red. "I was just trying to save time for when you did show up, that's all."
A small smile creased Samba's lips. "Oh. Well, thanks," she said, taking another small sip.
Limbo flashed an eager grin. "So, all rested and refreshed after your time off? Ready to put your nose to the street and catch the Ghost?"
Any enthusiasm Samba had quickly drained. "Oh, uh... Sure, I guess."
Limbo cocked an eyebrow at the odd response, noticing Samba attempting to stifle a yawn, but decided again to let it go. "Oookay... Anyway, we really need to start making some headway. Owl and the B.P.D. have a head start on us since they've got a little more authority than I do, while I've mostly just been here twiddling my hooves over the weekend. We still need to head down to town hall and see if we can dig up anything on suspicious changelings in the city. It would also be nice if we could get access to Mango Inc. headquarters, but that's a longshot."
"Have you figured anything out since the expo at all?"
Limbo scratched her head. "I've been going over it all weekend, even discussing some stuff with Owl, but I haven't really come up with anything new. All we know is that the Ghost has that stupidly-named thing that Career invented, which means we can assume the Ghost now has access to all the spells known by their victims. That makes them extremely dangerous."
"What if they don't agree to log their spells into the Spellmet?"
"Let me ask you this: if you were in their position, would you be willing to die to prevent the Ghost from learning a powerful spell you knew? Because I have little doubt that the Ghost is threatening them with death."
Samba's ears drooped, admittedly feeling a little ashamed that she probably would cave in that situation if it meant her life would be spared.
"The only one I'm confident they can't break is Poe. Poe is way too stubborn to reveal anything about the necromancy spell, evidenced by the fact that the Ghost apparently didn't know how to kill a zombie. I mean, come on. Has the Ghost never seen a zombie flick? Attack the brain, dur. It's necromancy, not rocket science."
"Didn't you get on my case for stereotyping zombies?"
Limbo flicked a hoof dismissively. "Stereotypes are steeped in truth. Although, it's possible that Poe could be feeding them lies too," she tittered. "Ha, that'd be so like her. Got a knife to her throat and she's making 'Your mom' jokes. She's such a goober." Her mirth died down a little. "It might very well have gotten her killed already."
While there was certainly a hint of worry on Limbo's face, Samba could still see her fond smile shining through. "You don't seem too broken up over that possibility."
"Well, we don't know for sure yet. Until I'm absolutely sure, I have to operate on the assumption that she is dead. It'll make it easier to accept that now if it turns out to be true. After all, I can't afford to slow down while there're still other people's lives on the line."
Once more, Samba found herself admiring Limbo's dedication and selflessness. She had already accepted the fact that her best friend might be dead, but she soldiered on for the sake of everypony else. Samba could only hope that some of that altruism had rubbed off on her in the short time she'd known Limbo.
Limbo wandered over to her cork board, looking over the map of Balitmare and the photos pinned to it. "So, the Ghost now has access to a variety of useful spells, which means they have more tools at their disposal to potentially make future abductions easier. Presumably, though, they need to be wearing Career's invention to use them, so even if they are a changeling, they'd have to be wearing that eyesore to make use of those appropriated spells. So they'll still have to be discreet, which is good, I suppose. People might not disappear at an increased rate because of this. Still, something is bothering me. Obviously the heist at the expo was premeditated, but the whole thing went off too well in the Ghost's favor, if you ask me. It was almost like they knew I was going to be there somehow. Hmm... So first there was Wick Nimble, which was an odd move by the Ghost to recruit a scapegoat. Then the whole distraction with the copy at the convention. I wonder if their intention the whole time was to make us think that the Ghost works for Mango Inc., throwing us off the scent and sending us on a wild goose chase while they just go about business as usual. Hrm... If the Ghost's plan was to make me second guess myself, it's starting to work. But, I mean, they had to have prior knowledge of Career's invention to make this happen, right? And who else would have that kind of info but somepony inside Mango Inc.? What do you think, Samba? Any input at all?"
Limbo turned around to her assistant, but found her just standing there, eyes already halfway to drifting shut her cup of tea dangerously close to spilling over.
"Samba."
The unicorn's head jerked up, her eyes flying open again and a drop of tea splashing from her mug and onto the floor. "Huh? Oh, uh, what'd you say?"
Limbo exchanged glances with Webber for a moment, the spider looked just as uncertain as she was. "You feeling okay today, Samba?"
"Oh, yeah, fine. Just..." She laboriously stifled a rather large yawn. "...didn't get a lot of sleep last night, that's all."
Limbo narrowed her eye skeptically. "No, no, something's definitely up with you. This ain't your run-of-the-mill lethargy."
Samba inched back, breaking eye contact. "Wh-What do you mean?"
The detective stepped closer, eliciting a nervous gulp from Samba. "I didn't become a detective without being able to see through people's lies. And I can't have a distracted assistant. You're gonna tell me what's up."
Samba's ears drooped. She looked away remorsefully. "I... didn't really take the weekend off."
Limbo tilted her head. "Heh?"
"I... went back to work at The Brewery."
"Huh? Why?"
"What do you mean, 'why'?"
"I thought you wanted to work with me," Limbo said, some hurt in her expression. "You know, trying to do something meaningful, improving your self-image, all that jazz."
"Limbo, I didn't quit my job. I took some time off, remember? I was always going to go back. Maybe this is a little sooner than I originally planned, but I've got to get back to reality eventually."
Limbo visually deflated at this news, looking like she just got punched in the gut. "So you'd rather dance in front of a bunch of drunks than help me save people's lives?"
"This isn't about what I could do, it's about what I can do," Samba replied defensively. "I'm good at dancing. It's something I can do for a living and get by. Here, I'm kinda just playing house. Have I enjoyed my time here? Yeah, but it's not like I can just drop everything to become a detective's assistant. Rhapsody has a point: I need to grow up, so I'm going back to work."
"Then... why'd you come here this morning?" Limbo asked quietly.
Samba hesitated, a slight tinge of red in her cheeks. "I guess I felt like I owed you a goodbye, but I wasn't sure how to break the news to you. I kinda lost my nerve once I got here."
Limbo's own ears dropped a little. "Oh... So, what? That's it then? We're done?"
"I mean, I still consider you a friend, and I owe you my life for saving me from that guy. We can... still hang out and stuff. You know, if you're not too busy with your investigations." Samba managed a smile, though it was a little forced. "It's not like I haven't learned anything working with you. I think I have a bit more confidence in myself now, so maybe I can manage on my own from here. After all, my biggest problem has always been my dependency on other people, so this is probably the healthiest thing for me. You understand, right?"
Limbo just blinked slowly as she processed this information. "Uh... Yeah, I guess..."
Samba awkwardly glanced around. "So, uh... You seem like you're pretty deep in the Ghost thing right now, so I guess I'll, you know... let you get back to it. Don't want to slow you down or anything."
Limbo said nothing.
Samba turned to the desk, where Webber had been since she'd arrived. She wandered over and held out her hoof with only slight trepidation. Limbo watched in silence as Webber crawled slowly onto Samba's hoof.
"It's definitely been interesting working here, even if it's only been a week. Never thought I'd make friends with a spider," Samba chuckled, her smile a touch shaky and her hoof trembling just a tiny bit as Webber stood upon it. She looked back at Limbo. "And especially not a zombie. Oh, and don't worry, I'll still keep your secret close to my chest."
"Good to know..." Limbo uttered listlessly.
Samba let Webber back onto the desk, then finished her mug of tea and started toward the door. "I'll... see you guys later, I guess."
"Sure... Uh, don't be a stranger, okay?" Limbo told her with only a hint of desperation. "You can visit whenever. I don't need to sleep, so I'm available at anytime if you need to talk or whatever. And Webber doesn't really offer any intellectual conversation, so it'd be nice to have somepony to talk to every now and then."
Samba offered a genuine smile. "I'll stop by if I get the chance."
Limbo took another step forward. "Oh, and I'll send you a paycheck for your time."
"I appreciate that."
Limbo took another step. "And I'll one hundred percent catch the guy who attacked you eventually. I promise."
Samba just continued to smile, but it faltered with every word Limbo said. "I know you will. I'll try to keep my guard up in the meantime."
And with that, Samba left, leaving Limbo's apartment quiet, cold, and lonely.
Limbo just stood there, Webber watching and waiting for her reaction.
"Well... This sucks..."
***** ***** *****
It was a bright and sunny day in Baltimare. While it was nearing suppertime, the sun was still shining radiantly as it gradually made its way toward the horizon. There was only a hint of amber in the sky as of yet, so no creature out and about felt any need to pack it in and head home, even though they were finishing up work about now. Canter Waterfront Park was a choice spot today apparently, as there were many people of all ages and species out for walks or having picnics.
Limbo was one of those people, except she wasn't out for a walk or planning a picnic. Typically, if Limbo were ever seen in the streets of Baltimare, it was likely that she was busy investigating a case of some kind. The people around her wouldn't know it, but she wasn't even doing that today. She was simply wandering aimlessly, lost in thought.
All morning—heck, all weekend—she'd been anticipating going off the leads she'd gotten from the Magi-Tech Expo, but now that she had the opportunity to follow them, she suddenly found herself lacking the motivation to do so. Even so, she couldn't bring herself to sit around in her apartment all day; her partially decayed brain wouldn't let her. But she also couldn't focus well enough to do any investigating. She barely even noticed how far from home she'd wandered. The only reason she managed to snap out of her haze was because being at Canter Waterfront Park made her think about the day she was there with Samba to check out Trixie's magic show.
And that was the crux of the issue. Samba wasn't helping her out anymore. She'd gone back to work at that pub, leaving Limbo without an assistant. She still had Webber, but there was only so much a spider could do. Discussing the details of a case wasn't within the little arachnid's skillset. But why should she be upset about this? It's not like Samba wasn't her friend anymore. They could still hang out whenever they were free. And it wasn't like she wasn't used to working alone. Limbo had been going solo pretty much since Poe had disappeared. Samba had only worked with her for a week; it's not like having an assistant for a measly week would spoil her. Right?
Limbo needed to take her mind off of it. And the best way to cheer herself up when she was in a funk or needed to refocus her thoughts was with a hot cup o' joe. She hadn't had the wherewithal to take a container of coffee with her when she left, but she knew of a small café within sight of the park. There was no way they could make coffee that met the high standards of her discerning palate, but something was better than nothing, and she'd only had three cups that morning, so she was suffering a little caffeine withdrawal at the moment.
So, if only as a distraction from being distracted, Limbo ordered a coffee at the café and took a seat at one of the outdoor tables fenced in next to the sidewalk. Somepony happened to have left a newspaper on the table, so Limbo looked it over as she waited for the server to deliver her drink. The paper was a few days old, as the front page article was about the theft at the Magi-Tech Expo.
Limbo wasn't surprised to see this article still making the rounds. It had become a pretty widespread talking point throughout the city. The highly respected business mogul Mango Career had unveiled his latest invention, a revolutionary—if not ugly—piece of technology that could very well change lives. And then it was immediately stolen. Not a good look for Career, and he had no doubt been tearing his hair out over it since it happened. Thankfully, it seemed like the Ghost's involvement in the theft hadn't been made public. There were already enough rumors spreading around about the Ghost of Baltimare, some steeped in truth, some radically exaggerated and bordering on conspiracy theories. Limbo didn't need people panicking over it any more than they were.
A female griffon wearing the uniform of the café's servers placed Limbo's cup of coffee on the table as she was looking over the paper. The detective absentmindedly took a sip, but then immediately curled her lips and spat it out. She looked down into the cup to find a milky brown liquid inside, and she directed her disgust at her server.
"The hay is this?! Did I ask for milk or sugar?"
The server barely reacted to her outburst, just shrugging apathetically. "Don't look at me, I didn't make it."
"Then bring it back to the person who did, and tell them to replace it with the blackest brew possible. Put tar in it if you have to, just make it black," Limbo demanded.
The griffon took the cup with a roll of her eyes. "Whatever."
Limbo turned her eye back down at the paper to try and let her head cool off a bit. However, a voice from the table behind her wasn't going to let that happen.
"Daddy, why was that woman being mean to the lady?" said a small filly to her father.
"Just ignore her, sweetie."
"But she was being a bully."
Limbo already wasn't in any mood to be taking people's crap today, least of all some punk kid. She turned back to cast an irate glower at the filly, regardless of how her dad reacted. "You got something to say, say it to my face, you little—huh?" Her ire quickly vanished when she noticed just who it was sitting at the next table: a maroon unicorn stallion with a cup of coffee, and a purple unicorn filly with a slice of apple pie.
The two familiar faces were just as surprised to see her, now recognizing the cycloptic mare as well. In particular, the little filly grinned ear to ear.
"Lady Limbo!"
"Oh, hey, Pirouette. Rhapsody. This is unexpected."
As surprised as he was to see her, Rhapsody cocked an eyebrow at her. "What were you about to say to my daughter?"
"Huh? Oh, uh, nothing," Limbo chuckled awkwardly. "Trust me, I would never refer to any child using obscenities to their face."
"But waiters are fine."
"They got my order wrong," Limbo argued defensively. "If they're gonna work a job, I expect them to do it right."
"But you're not setting a good example for my daughter," Rhapsody scolded.
"I'm not her mom," grumbled Limbo with a grimace.
"You were mean to that lady. You gotta say sorry," stated Pirouette matter-of-factly, as though it were a rule.
"I don't 'gotta' do anything."
The server returned with Limbo's coffee, practically dropping a new cup of black brew on her table. Limbo briefly glanced at Pirouette. The filly was watching her expectantly. Limbo simply sighed. Giving in to the cute filly's request, she turned to the waitress with an expression of forced apology. "Hey, listen, sorry for yelling at you. I'm just in kind of a sour mood today. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
The griffon just stared indifferently. "Look, I'm getting laid off tomorrow. I really couldn't care less. Enjoy your coffee," she droned disingenuously as she walked away.
Limbo grinned. "Hm. I like her. Think I'll leave a tip."
"Come sit with us, Lady Limbo!" Pirouette insisted, seemingly satisfied with Limbo's halfhearted apology.
"You don't have to call her that, sweetheart."
"She can call me whatever she wants," said Limbo as she took her coffee over to their table, sitting across from Rhapsody. "So, long time no see, huh? What are you guys up to?"
Rhapsody offered an affable smile. "I just closed up shop and picked Pira up from daycare. Stopped at Hayburger for supper and the little monster decides after we leave the restaurant that she wants dessert."
Pirouette happily chomped on a mouthful of apple pie with a victorious smile.
Rhapsody's grin faded, leaning on the table. "So... Where's Samba? She not with you today?"
Limbo gazed at him for a moment. She wasn't sure if Samba had mentioned to her ex that she was working with her, but judging by his question, he probably knew. But, just in case he didn't and Samba was keeping this information from him for whatever reason, she decided to deflect. "We've known each other a little over a week. We're not connected at the hip."
"She told me she was working for you during her downtime. Figured she'd be spending most of her daylight hours with you."
Limbo scratched her neck, looking a little sullen all of a sudden. "Yeah, well... She stopped by my place this morning to let me know she's going back to work at the pub."
"Really? That's weird."
Limbo quirked an eyebrow at that response. "Is it? I mean, we knew from the beginning that this was temporary," she said, though was fully aware of the hypocrisy given her own reaction to the news. "Have you been talking to her much since she met me?"
He chuckled. "You kidding? She's been texting me, or calling to talk to Pira pretty much every day," he said, scrolling over his past texts on his spellphone, which was laying on the table.
"Yeah? About what?"
"She told me about the magic show!" Pirouette exclaimed excitedly. "It sounded so cool! I wanna go to a magic show!"
"She thought you'd like that," Limbo laughed.
"Oh! And look at this!" Pirouette snatched her father's phone with her magic, bringing up the picture Samba had taken of herself and Princess Twilight and showing it to Limbo. "She met Princess Twilight!"
"I know. I was there too, kiddo."
"That's so cool!"
"So, is that what you two have been doing with your time? Going to magic shows and conventions?" Rhapsody inferred somewhat judgmentally.
Limbo gave him a quizzical look. Apparently she hadn't been telling him everything. "I'm guessing she's been pretty vague with the details, huh."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't often do things without reason. The magic show, the convention... We went to those because I had hunches related to one of my cases. And guess what? Immediately after the magic show, Trixie vanished."
Rhapsody blinked. "Seriously? As in, kidnapped?"
"Well, yes and no. It's complicated. The cops decided to keep the whole affair on the down low to spare Trixie's ego. Point is, we weren't galivanting around to kill time, we were investigating. Samba was helping me with Trixie's kidnapping, and..." Limbo grabbed the newspaper from the other table, tossing it to Rhapsody. "...a theft at the Magi-Tech Expo."
"Oh... I... didn't know that," Rhapsody said quietly as he looked over the article. "I wonder why she didn't mention that."
"That might be my fault. I kept insisting that she not take unnecessary risks, so she probably figured you'd give her the same lectures I did."
"Unnecessary risks? Samba?" he questioned doubtfully.
Limbo eyed him up for a moment. This might have actually been a fortuitous coincidence, meeting him here like this. "I want to ask you something—and you can say no if you feel it's a little too personal—but what is Samba to you now? How do you see her?"
"Well, she's the mother of my child."
"Yeah, but do you still love her? Because, based on what she's told me, she certainly still holds you in high regard."
Rhapsody sighed, scratching his cheek as he broke eye contact. "I care about her. A lot. She was my high school sweetheart and the only girl I've ever been with, so it's hard not to still care about her. And that's what made this so difficult. You have no idea how painful it was to make that decision, but I was thinking about somepony else when I made it."
His eyes shifted discreetly to the filly sitting next to them, too busy happily chewing apple pie and admiring the photo of her mom and the princess to pay attention to the adults' conversation.
"Samba has always had a kind of... fear of responsibility. She's afraid of being blamed if something goes wrong. That's why she works at that pub. Because she's good at it and it's the easiest and safest option for her. I was pretty surprised when I heard she was working with you, even if only temporarily. She's a good person, but I don't know if I'd consider her a role model."
"I don't know if you're giving her enough credit."
"How do you figure that? You haven't known her as long as I have."
"No, I haven't. But in the short time that I have known her, I've seen somepony who knows what kind of person she is and isn't happy with her self-image. That's why she insisted on working with me."
"And now she's back to her old job after only a week," Rhapsody reminded her. "This is what I'm talking about. She can't commit to anything."
"Actually, it's your fault she quit," Limbo told him with a knit brow.
"My fault?" he balked, vexed by the accusation. "How is it my fault?"
"She told me this morning that she was just listening to what you told her about 'growing up.' She's doing what she believes is the 'realistic' choice."
"You can't put that on me. She's the one who chose to interpret her job as the realistic choice because that's all she's willing to put any effort into."
Limbo stared at him doubtfully. "You think she's unwilling to put effort in? You know, one of the things she talked about a lot was how much she wished she could help Pirouette practice magic. Your kid always seems to be on her mind."
"That's easy for her to say, sure, because she can't. Can you say she actually would if she could?"
"Can you say she wouldn't?" Limbo countered.
"Better than you," he retaliated. "She didn't work when we were married, but I still had to take care of most of the chores when I got home. She just sat back and let me do everything because she was afraid of messing something up."
Limbo closed her eye. She was starting to feel like she knew Samba more than he realized. Or, at the very least, she knew the current Samba better than he did. "Hey, remember what I said before about scolding her for unnecessary risks? The Samba you're talking about sounds like she doesn't step on eggshells, she makes somepony else step on them. So you might be surprised to hear that she was the reason we were able to rescue Trixie."
Rhapsody's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, really?"
She shrugged. "I mean, maybe I'm exaggerating a little considering the kidnapper was some meek kid and Trixie willing went with him, but she didn't know that for sure. Samba still charged in there to help her, regardless of her own safety. And, while the theft at the expo turned out to be a diversion, Samba was still a big help there too. Being honest, I couldn't have made the progress that I did investigating the Ghost of Baltimare without her help."
Rhapsody turned away, an uncertain and guilty look in his eyes. "So... why were you scolding her about it, then? Sounds like she's... actually been doing a good job."
"I told her off about it because they were 'unnecessary' risks. Did her risks help? Yes, absolutely. Could we have managed without her putting herself in potential danger? Probably. Look, I'll be the first to admit that I'm being a hypocrite. I have a tendency to toss my own well being to the wayside during my investigations, but the reason I told her to not follow my example in that regard is because she has more to lose than I do."
"She did mention that your best friend was kidnapped already," Rhapsody uttered sympathetically.
Limbo breathed a short breath through her nostrils. "There's a little more to it than that, but that's not your problem. The point I'm trying to make is that Samba is putting the effort in. Whether or not you've seen it for yourself in her texts and phone calls doesn't change that. The thing is, I'm not sure if she's noticed it herself yet, which might be part of the reason why she decided to go back to the pub."
Rhapsody tapped his hoof lightly on the table in thought. His eyes drifted to Pirouette, who was still distracted by her apple pie and a simple game on her father's phone. "So... have you told her that yourself? Like, how much help she's been?"
Limbo blinked. "Uh, well, yeah."
"Then you tried to stop her from quitting?"
The mare shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I'm... pretty sure I made my thoughts clear."
Rhapsody stared at her for a moment contemplatively. "Limbo, have you ever been in a relationship?"
She arched a puzzled eyebrow at the seemingly unrelated question. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"Just answer the question."
"Well, no. I've got no interest in romantic relationships. I've never really been the type of person who felt like she needed somepony else to make me feel 'complete.' You might not be able to tell by talking to me, but I don't even have many people I'd call close friends. Just my best friend Poe, and now Samba."
Rhapsody grinned knowingly. "Then I guess you don't understand."
Limbo narrowed her eye, starting to get a little annoyed by his coyness. "Understand what?"
"If you care about somepony, you should let them know."
Limbo grimaced. "Look, dude, I'm not macking on your ex or anything. Especially when she clearly still has feelings for you and is probably not into girls anyway.
Rhapsody simply chuckled. "Not what I'm getting at. Samba just seems like she's been in a particularly good mood since she met you. She'll always take an opportunity to talk to me if I ever text her for something, but she rarely tries to strike up conversation herself. It's even pretty uncommon for her to chat up Pira, as much as she cares about her. But she's been contacting us pretty much everyday, sounding more chipper than I've heard her in a long time. And based on everything you've said, it sounds like meeting you was good for her. And it sounds like you enjoyed having her around too. So why let a good thing for both of you come to an end?"
Limbo stared down at the table for a moment. He wasn't wrong. Having Samba around was a nice change of pace. She'd even expressed herself that it was nice to have somepony to just talk to, especially with Poe gone. But it wasn't like they weren't friends anymore. She and Samba both agreed that they could still hang out on occasion.
So, then, that begged the question: why was Limbo so distracted by this that she couldn't even focus on her investigation? What was it about Samba that made this whole situation so disheartening for her? Was it that she was so willing to keep her secret? Was it that she was actually able to befriend an ornery spider like Webber? Was it because of her contributions to the investigation?
Or was it all of the above?
"You okay?" Rhapsody asked. "You got quiet all of a sudden."
Limbo lifted her head, as though she'd forgotten she wasn't alone. "Oh, sorry. Just... thinking. Uh, listen, it was nice talking to you and all, but I think I have some stuff I need to take care of," she said as she stood up from the table.
Pirouette finally removed her eyes from her dad's spellphone. "You're leaving, Lady Limbo?" she said, some disappointment in her voice.
"'Fraid so, kiddo," she answered, tousling the filly's curly, pink mane. "I'm a busy mare, what with all my detective work, so I can't sit still for too long or the bad guys will get away."
That seemed to perk the filly up. "'Kay! Catch all the bad guys, please!"
"They don't stand a chance," Limbo told her with a cocksure smirk. She then glanced back at Rhapsody. "Hey, it was nice talking to you, Rhapsody. We should do this again sometime. You know, with Samba around maybe. Not gonna lie, feels a little awkward chatting up my friend's ex without her around."
"Sounds fun," he said, though not without a hint of reticence.
Limbo watched curiously as he sipped his coffee. "Quick question: how do you take your coffee?"
Rhapsody quirked an eyebrow at the inane question. "Uh, two cream, two sugar. Why?"
Limbo pursed her lips for a moment, then shrugged. "Eh, Samba could do worse."
The stallion narrowed his eyes in vexation. "Excuse me?"
"Anyway, I'm off. Later," Limbo bid them, downing her own coffee and heading off.
"Bye, Lady Limbo!" Pirouette called out cheerily and far louder than necessary.
***** ***** *****
"Here you go," Samba said with a friendly grin as she placed a pair of steins on the table, the mugs overflowing slightly with foamy head.
One of the stallions seated there grinned back gratefully. "Thanks."
"It's good to have you back, Samba," said the other stallion. "I'm sure every guy here missed you while you were gone."
Samba giggled with a slight blush. "That's sweet, but I really needed the time off. I had some personal things to work out."
"Hey, at least you're back now. The place feels empty without you," the first stallion said as he took a swig of his beer. "Speaking of which, you, uh... gonna be putting on a show for us tonight?" he asked with a bob of his eyebrows.
Samba smirked teasingly. "Stick around and find out."
With that, she sauntered away, leaving the two customers to anticipate her upcoming performance. She approached the bar, where Tap was busy cleaning up some empty mugs. Every patron of the pub now had a drink, which meant that Samba could take a breather. Thankfully, the customers tended to congregate at the tables, leaving the bar devoid of people most of the time and letting Samba unwind in peace.
She sat herself on one of the stools and let out a long sigh. It was that time of the night where she could abandon her work persona and let the real Samba take over, no longer needing to force herself to engage in flirtatious chitchat with the sleazy drunkards who frequented The Brewery. She only did it for the sake of the business. Enticing the customers was essentially part of her job, and making use of her feminine wiles brought in paying patrons, which in turn meant more revenue for the pub and sizable tips for herself. At the cost of her dignity, though she didn't have much of that to start with.
"Can I get a glass of water, Tap?"
No sooner had she finished her question did a glass of water slide down the length of the bar, Samba catching it deftly with her hoof. Tap had the drink at the ready for his coworker, being more than familiar with the routine around here.
"Thanks." Samba knocked back the full glass as though it were a shot, then slid the empty cup back to Tap to clean.
Tap wandered over to her, his usual compassionate smile adorning his face. "You don't seem too happy to be back, hun."
"When have I ever been?" she countered. "It pays the bills, though, and at least I get to do something I do enjoy."
"You mean being ogled by a bunch of drunks?"
Samba cast him a listless stare at his knowing, yet sympathetic smirk. She always knew his cattiness was seasoned with genuine care and concern, so she never took offense to his sarcasm. He was really the only thing at this job that made it tolerable. Him, and the dancing.
"I'm just saying, the look you've been carrying around on your face since you came back from your 'vacation' hasn't exactly inspired confidence."
"I've explained this, Tap. I can't keep trying to fool myself. I just need to stick to what I'm good at."
"Even if it's not what makes you happy?"
The small sigh that escaped Samba's lungs was practically a groan. As much as she liked Tap, sometimes she wished he'd stop trying to be her psychiatrist. "I haven't been happy since the divorce. That's not gonna change regardless of where I work."
"Sounds like you still have some things that need sorting out. Maybe you should've taken a little more time off."
Samba didn't respond, but mostly because she didn't want to admit that he might've been right. "Can I get another water?" she requested quietly.
Tap said nothing and just refilled her glass for her. She expected him to make another comment, as he was never one to let something go when he knew she was stressing over something. However, another customer happened to walk in and seat himself at the opposite end of the bar, so Tap had to tend to him. Samba didn't bother even looking up from her glass.
"Evening, sir. What's your poison?" Tap asked the stallion with a welcoming grin.
"Scotch on the rocks."
Samba's ears perked up. That voice sounded familiar. She glanced over at the new patron, recognizing his dark grey coat, midnight blue mane, and the distinguishing wings of a bat pony. She had to look him over for an extra second to be sure, since this was the first time she'd ever seen him out of uniform.
"Owl?"
The bat pony turned in her direction, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. "Oh, hey, Samba."
Meeting a familiar face at The Brewery was an uncommon occurrence for Samba, so she didn't hesitate to move down the bar to sit next to him, offering a pleasantly surprised smile. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."
Night Owl shrugged. "What? I'm not straight edge or anything. I enjoy a drink every now and then. I'm a little surprised to see you here, though."
"I work here," she told him.
"Oh, right. You mentioned that when we were questioning Nimble, didn't you? We were a little preoccupied at the time, so I never got a chance to ask about that." He looked her over, noting the apron she was wearing with a few wet stains on it. "You serve drinks here, I'm guessing."
Samba looked away, twirling her wavy mane with her hoof. "Uh, well, yeah, if I want to make a little extra some nights. But I primarily provide... entertainment..."
Owl stared at her for a moment, then shifted his eyes to the large stage at the back of the pub, then back to Samba, whose cheeks were starting to turn red. He'd noted himself when he first met her that she was an attractive mare, so it didn't take a genius to put two and two together. "You're an exotic dancer, then?"
"N-Not that exotic, mind you," she replied defensively, her face becoming redder.
Tap passed Owl's drink to him, giving Samba a quizzical, yet coy look. "You know this handsome fellow, Samba?"
She nodded. "Yeah, this is Sergeant Night Owl. I met him while I worked with Limbo."
Tap eyed Owl up with a smirk. "Sergeant, you say? Well, I certainly hope you aren't planning any pat downs," he cooed.
"Behave yourself, and I won't have to," Owl told him sternly.
"Don't entice me, Officer," Tap joked playfully.
"Tap. You're married," Samba scolded him with a knit brow.
"Relax, I'm just playing," the bartender chuckled. "But just so I'm not too distracted, I'll go ahead and give you guys some privacy." Tap then wandered off to bus some empty tables and clean up some dirty mugs.
"Don't think I've ever seen you here before, Owl," Samba commented.
"Because I've never been. If I wanted to get a stiff drink, there are bars closer to my place than this. Besides, I didn't come here to just have a leisurely drink," he said, keeping his voice down. "This is supposedly where Wick Nimble met his contact, so I figured I'd scope the place out to see if it might be one of the Ghost's 'haunts,' you know?"
"I can't really say for sure myself," she responded with a shrug.
Owl took a sip of his scotch. "So, you working two jobs, then?" he asked Samba.
"Well, no. This is my real job. I was only taking some time off and decided to help Limbo during that time."
"Working on your vacation? Didn't take you for a workaholic."
"I'm not, it's just... complicated. And it worked out, I guess. The reason I took time off in the first place was because I have a stalker and he attacked me."
"What? Really?" Owl balked quietly, showing her some concern.
"Mm-hm. One of the guys who frequents this place kept leaving me notes asking me to contact him, and I guess he got fed up that I wasn't responding."
Owl discreetly glanced over his shoulder at all the stallions drinking and conversing boisterously. "So he might be one of these guys?"
Samba shook her head. "I don't think so. I started working here again over the weekend and haven't gotten a single note from him."
"Sounds like this place just attracts seedy types. So what happened to him? You got away from him?"
"Well, kinda. Actually, it was Limbo that chased him off. That was part of the reason why I was working with her, as thanks for saving me. She didn't manage to catch the guy though." Samba smiled somewhat optimistically. "Maybe he doesn't want to risk getting caught again, so he gave up coming here."
"Not to burst your bubble, but I doubt it. People like that don't give up so easy. He just might be trying to lay low for a while, wait for you to drop your guard. Or maybe he doesn't realize you're back at work already."
Samba gulped. She knew Owl had a point, but she was just trying to reassure herself.
Again, Owl looked over his shoulder. "You have a description of the guy?"
"No, sorry. It was dark, and he was wearing a hoodie. Limbo promised to catch him, but she's got other stuff to deal with too, and she's just one pony."
"Sounds like you were lucky regardless. Limbo might be a bit eccentric at times, but I can't deny she's good at what she does."
Samba stared at Owl as he took a swig of his scotch, the ice cubes lightly clinking against the glass as he placed it back on the counter. "Were you and Limbo close?"
Owl grinned knowingly at the question. "If you're asking if we used to be an item, that would be a big fat no. In fact, that couldn't be further than the truth. Me and her have always been more like rivals."
"Rivals? But you were working together on the force."
"Just because two people are on the same team doesn't mean they have the same ideals." He sighed as he swirled his drink slowly, staring vacantly into the amber substance as it swished around. "It pains me to say that she has a point. The B.P.D. has never been the most altruistic group, and I'm no different than the others, except for maybe an extra fifty I.Q. points. I wouldn't call us 'corrupt,' though, just kinda selfish. Sometimes we don't bother with minor crimes like petty theft and vandalism because nopony really gives a crap about little stuff like that. Solving the big crimes is how you make a name for yourself. I'm ashamed to admit that I've turned civilians away just because I didn't deem their problems 'important' enough."
"You're not still like that, though. Are you?" asked Samba, unsure if she actually wanted the answer.
Owl paused briefly, still not looking Samba in the eye. "Guess that depends on who you ask. Limbo would probably say I haven't changed, but I guess I haven't exactly given her a reason to think otherwise. We still take jabs at each other whenever we see each other. But I don't know. Maybe I've just been extra critical of myself since I became chief of police."
Samba lifted an eyebrow. "Chief? I thought you were a sergeant? I don't know a lot about police ranks, but I thought chief was above sergeant."
"It is, but I prefer my officers to call me Sergeant, or just Sarge."
"Why?"
He just shrugged. "Who can say? Just got used to it I guess."
"Oh. Uh, out of curiosity, what rank was Limbo?"
"Also sergeant. Actually, both of us were fighting over who would get to be chief one day."
"Is that what fueled your rivalry?"
He shook his head. "Maybe it caused us to butt heads more frequently, but like I said before, a difference in ideals was the source of our infighting."
"And you got the promotion over her in the end, I guess. That must've been a blow to Limbo's ego."
"Actually, I didn't get promoted until after she'd already quit the force. She got fed up with the way the rest of us were handling things. And even though she saw me as the only other competent officer, she still didn't like my attitude. And the feeling was mutual. I ended up getting the promotion after the former chief was crippled during a drug bust and forced into early retirement." He took another swig of his scotch—a long one. "Funny thing is, in hindsight, I think Limbo would've gotten chosen for promotion over me had she stuck around."
"You think so?"
"I do. I wouldn't admit it to her face, of course, but she was—is a damn fine officer. Her sheer persistence and dedication to her job probably gave her a leg up over me. Kinda makes me wonder if the force would've been better off with her in charge."
Samba said nothing in response to this. She had said when she first met Night Owl that she would form her own opinion of him and the B.P.D. rather than take Limbo's words at face value. And after hearing all of this, seeing that Owl clearly had respect for Limbo—in so far that he believed she could've made chief of police before him—and his insistence that his colleagues refer to him by his former rank, she was starting to suspect that maybe he believed subconsciously that he didn't deserve to be chief. He had never come off to her before now that he would be the sort of person to have self-esteem issues. It just made her empathize with him.
"The weird thing is," he continued with a vexed furrow of his brow, "for as talented an officer as she is, I can't help but notice how much more reckless she's gotten since she quit. She's always been pretty brash, but since going solo, I've seen her charge head first into a lot of situations without so much as a second thought to the consequences. It's not a lack of fear or anything, it's more like she simply doesn't have any sense of self-preservation anymore."
Of course, Samba knew exactly why that was. Limbo didn't have a life left to lose, but she couldn't tell Owl that obviously. "Maybe she's just trying to go to any means necessary to save her best friend, even if it means putting herself at risk."
"And that's the thing," said Owl, tapping the countertop rhythmically. "I'm still trying to piece together what Poe's part is in all this."
Samba gulped, suddenly kicking herself for bringing her up.
"Limbo's hunch about the Ghost was right, we know that now. The theft of Mango Career's device is proof of that, and even provides a reason for Sizzle Conifer's disappearance. So, now, the only piece that doesn't fit is Poe Ravensong. Was it to deter Limbo's efforts like you suggested? Possibly, but I've got my doubts. Limbo never really said anything about it, like it didn't surprise her that Poe was targeted. And now that we know for sure that her hunch was correct, that just makes Poe's involvement all the more puzzling. Limbo's hiding something, I know she is." Owl turned to Samba, his inquisitive gaze causing Samba to break eye contact nervously. "She wouldn't happen to have mentioned anything to you?"
Samba hesitated, finding it difficult to bring herself to lie to a police officer's face.
And that hesitation was all Owl needed. "She did, didn't she? Mind sharing?"
He had phrased it as a polite request, but his tone exuded noticeable authority. But even though she was receiving a command from not just a police officer, but the chief of police, she had made a promise to Limbo, and she intended to keep it. "I-I... I can't..."
Owl quirked an eyebrow. "You 'can't'? So you do know, and you just won't tell me."
"I'm sorry," Samba said quietly, avoiding eye contact. "I promised her I wouldn't say anything."
"That so? Well, I know Limbo too well to believe that she's blackmailing you in exchange for your silence."
Samba, feeling guilty about inadvertently legitimizing Owl's suspicions, finally looked him in the eye to try and justify Limbo's actions without revealing too much information. "She's just trying to protect Poe."
"I see..." Owl stared down into the half a glass of scotch left in front of him for a moment. "So, the only assumption I can make from this is that Poe is involved in some kind of illegal activity. And Limbo is clearly aware of that. She may not be aiding, but she is certainly abetting." He looked back at Samba sternly. "Which means so are you."
Samba was a bundle of nerves right now. However, she wasn't afraid of what would happen to herself for being complicit in Limbo and Poe's "crime." Rather, she was worried about what would happen to the two of them if Limbo's secret got out. Limbo had put her trust in her, and she wasn't about to break her promise.
She looked Night Owl straight in the eyes, his authoritative glare not fazing her. "Owl... Do you trust Limbo?"
He didn't visually react to the question, just a slow blink. "I trust that she wouldn't do something without reason."
Samba smiled slightly. "Right. You two have a common enemy right now. Don't you think it would better if you look the other way for now so you can work together to catch the Ghost?"
Owl took a small sip of his drink, breathing a sigh afterward. "You might have a point. Limbo and I might not see eye to eye, but I know she's not a bad person. That being said, I know how close those two are. I've met Poe a few times. Limbo always brought her along to the station's cookouts, even though they're explicitly for officers only. She's the one that dragged her sorry butt to the hospital when she lost her eye because the rest of us were too busy cleaning up all the fruit shrapnel that got blown everywhere. I don't doubt that Limbo would go to some extremes for her best friend, and vice versa, even if it meant breaking the law."
Samba was quiet for a moment, but wanted to try one more time to convince him. "I don't know how much value my words have to you, Owl, but for what it's worth, I don't think either of them have done anything wrong."
Owl observed the compassionate glint in Samba's eyes, practically shining in the dim lighting of the pub. To Samba's surprise, he smiled, chuckling quietly. "You're a good friend, Samba. I can see why Limbo trusts you so much. Tell you what: I'll turn the other cheek until we've dealt with this whole Ghost debacle. But I expect to hear the truth when it's all said and done."
"Well, that's up to them. I'm not gonna break my promise."
"We'll cross that bridge when we get there, I guess." Owl downed the rest of his scotch, leaving just the half-melted ice cubes clinking on the bottom of the glass. "You know, considering how much you trust her, I'm surprised you decided to quit. Seemed like you were pretty into it."
"Oh, well... I'm just trying to be realistic. I went along with it because I was scared of that guy who attacked me, and because I wanted to do something meaningful with my life. But I'm not a detective. I should just stick to what I'm good at."
Owl shrugged with a grin. "I don't know, seemed like you were pretty good at it, if you ask me. Barging in on Wick Nimble, snapping that pic of the Ghost. Sounds like Limbo nabbed herself a pretty reliable assistant."
Samba blushed at the compliment. "You think?"
"Maybe a bit haphazard at times, but, hey, it works for her, right?" he joked. "In all seriousness, though, we wouldn't be where we are in this investigation without your help. And you said you were scared of your stalker, but you still came back to work even though he's still out there. Sounds to me like she's helped you almost as much as you've helped her, so it puzzles me as to why you'd want to give that up."
Samba sat in silence for a moment. If stopping a kidnapper and helping further a big investigation wasn't a meaningful enough contribution to her, then that begged the question of what was. Owl had a point: she wasn't really afraid of her stalker anymore. She hadn't even considered him when she decided to come back to the pub. It wasn't that she thought she could deal with him if he showed up again, but more so that she just wasn't thinking about it anymore. What exactly did that mean, though? Did it mean she was braver now, or just reckless? Either way, it was a difference, and that difference wouldn't have happened were it not for Limbo. If that's the difference one week can make, who knows how much she could have changed if she'd stuck around. Maybe Owl had a point...
But it wasn't like that was the only reason for her decision. "Well, I also have a tendency to be over-reliant on other people. I need to learn to be more independent. Working with Limbo is kinda counterintuitive to that."
"You think relying on others is a bad thing?"
Samba stared at him, curious as to where he was going with this.
"I know better than most that good help is hard to come by, but as a police officer, working as a team is integral. Most of my colleagues can't tell left from right without some kind of pneumonic device, but that doesn't mean I don't trust them to have my back when I need it. You ever hear the phrase, 'strength in numbers'? 'Strength' can mean a lot of things. Having somepony you trust by your side to help you when you really need it can make a world of difference."
"So, you think Limbo didn't trust you?"
"Limbo may have quit, but she still had somepony. Her and Poe are practically sisters, and she's her primary source of motivation. She hides it well, but I really think Limbo is desperate to save her. She needs Poe, because she doesn't have anypony else."
Samba's ears flattened as that thought sunk in. Limbo had always insisted that she'd come to terms that Poe might be dead, but what if she really was just as broken up about it as Owl presumed she was? Limbo came off to her as a pretty self-reliant person, but she did end up befriending a spider after her disappearance, so that may have been telling. And it wasn't like she hadn't noticed that Limbo seemed to be disappointed to hear she was quitting. Samba was starting to think her decision may have been more selfish than she realized, which was also counterintuitive to what she was trying to achieve.
Tap finally returned from his busy work, flashing Samba a smile. "Sorry to interrupt your little catching up session, but it's midnight, Samba."
"Oh, right." Samba got up from her seat, removing her apron. "Time for tonight's performance. Sorry, Owl, but I gotta go get ready."
"You want me to leave?" he asked.
Samba tilted her head at the odd question. "Huh? Why?"
If it hadn't been so dim in the building, Samba might have noticed the slight blush on Owl's cheeks. "Well, I don't know if you'd find it awkward to dance in front of somepony you know."
Samba giggled, smiling appreciatively. "It's okay. I've gotten pretty used to tuning out everything around me when I dance. Besides, having somepony I trust in the audience might actually make it more comfortable to dance in front of a bunch of drunken sleazeballs."
Owl smiled back. "Fair enough. Guess I'll have another scotch and enjoy the show, then."
***** ***** *****
Limbo poured up yet another cup of coffee. She'd lost count of exactly how much she'd had today, but at this point she'd made a game of it. Since returning home from her aimless walking around town, Limbo had poured cup after cup of coffee, using a new mug for each one in an effort to see just how much she could consume. She'd gone through a whole can of coffee at this point, and her sink was piled with used mugs, but she still hadn't gone through half of her collection yet. If her apartment hadn't smelled enough of coffee before, one might think she manufactured the stuff right in her own home now. She'd needed to use the bathroom at least four times since midnight, and it was just after two now.
All the while, Webber had to sit and watch as she paced back and forth through the apartment, either impatiently waiting for the next pot to be finished, or fighting with her struggling bladder. The copious amount of caffeine also wasn't helping. Her degenerated body didn't process the caffeine quite the same as when she was alive, but with this much in her system, she was practically vibrating across the floorboards, and it was starting to make Webber a little dizzy having to watch it with eight eyes. It was surprising that the tenant below her hadn't raised any complaints.
But the reason she was doing this was simply to kill time and distract herself. Limbo hadn't been able to focus all day, and that problem was only exacerbated by her chat with Rhapsody earlier. She had originally planned to track Samba down and talk to her after that, but decided against it at the last minute.
Samba had made her choice. As disheartened as she was when Samba announced she was heading back to work at the pub, Limbo began to think maybe it wasn't her place to try and convince her otherwise. After all, Samba had once said that her overdependence on other people was one of the reasons Rhapsody divorced her. Perhaps being on her own was the best thing for her.
Still, that didn't mean that Limbo didn't already miss her.
Limbo suddenly jumped with a start when she heard a knock on her door. A visitor at this hour was startling, or maybe she was just jittery from the coffee. She briefly exchanged silent glances with Webber, the spider crawling off behind the desk to hide from the guest. Limbo went to answer the door, the handle practically rattling from her caffeine shakes as she turned it.
And her eyes widened considerably more than they already were when she saw the sheepish face of Samba standing in the hall.
"Uh, hi," Samba greeted with a somewhat awkward smile.
Limbo just stared in silence for a moment, but cleared her throat and ran a hoof through her mane in a vain attempt to appear aloof. "Hey. I know I said you can come by anytime, but I wasn't expecting you to show up this late."
"Well, I just got off work, so I... figured I'd stop by. I know you don't actually need sleep, so I didn't think it'd be a big deal."
Limbo tried to seem disgruntled, but she couldn't fight back the tiny hint of a smile. "Maybe not, but that doesn't mean I don't want to sleep. What do you think I have to do around here to kill that kinda time?"
"Oh. Uh, sorry. Maybe I should just go, then."
Limbo reached out to her desperately as she made to turn back. "N-No, it's fine! I was just messing around. Come in."
Samba grinned and stepped inside, her nose curling almost immediately. "Geez, did you spill a pot of coffee in here? It's never smelled this bad before."
"Me? Spill coffee? Never. But, uh... I may have had a few cups throughout the day."
Samba finally noticed the kitchen sink and all the coffee-stained mugs piled into it. She just blinked at the sight. That was bizarre even for Limbo.
Having recognized the visitor's voice, Webber reemerged from his hiding spot. Samba spotted the spider crawling across the desk, flashing him a friendly grin.
"Hey, Webber."
The spider simply lifted a leg in greeting.
"Sooooo..." Limbo began as she awkwardly prepared to engage in small talk. "How was work?"
Samba lolled her head back and forth, her body language not making the atmosphere any less awkward. "Work was fine. More interesting than usual."
"Your stalker guy didn't show up again, did he?" Limbo asked with concern, though perhaps sounding a little more overbearing than she intended.
"No, but I did run into a familiar face. Owl showed up."
Limbo tilted her head in confusion, a slight grimace of disgust on her face. "Owl? What was he doing there?"
"Investigating Wick Nimble's contact apparently. But we ended up having a nice conversation."
"Yeah? What about?"
Samba hesitated, grinning dismissively. She wasn't sure how Limbo would feel about her and Owl talking about her behind her back, especially considering that she'd inadvertently heightened Owl's suspicions toward her and Poe. Plus, she also wasn't sure if Owl would want her mentioning the stuff he'd said to her, so Samba decided to keep the details to herself. "Uh, nothing you need to worry about. Just... casual small talk. How was your day? Any progress on the case?"
Limbo scratched her head, inhaling sharply. "Uh, no, nothing," she told her, though willingly withheld the fact that she didn't actually do any investigating today. However, she grinned back at Samba. "But, funny coincidence, I happened to bump into Rhapsody and Pirouette during my rounds."
Samba wasn't sure how to feel about that, but was curious regardless. "Oh. Uh, did he say anything about me?" she asked cautiously.
"What else would we have to talk about?" Limbo knit her brow as she thought about it. "I'm not gonna sugarcoat it, he didn't have much good to say. But, to be fair, most of what he said was just regurgitating what you told me. Which was just you regurgitating what he said to you. And I'm gonna stop saying regurgitating now because I'm starting to gross myself out."
Samba lowered her head. "I'm not surprised. I know how badly I hurt him."
"But it's not like he was only dissing you or anything. He seemed pretty happy to hear that you were enjoying yourself working with me."
Samba's ears perked back up. "He... He did?"
Limbo grinned reassuringly. "Well, that's the impression I got. Personally, I think he's a bit of a jerk for talking about you the way he did, but I know you still love him, and you know him better than I do."
A wistful smile graced Samba's lips. If that was true, then that would be hard evidence that perhaps she'd made the right decision after all. But then doubled back on that decision...
Samba looked Limbo in the eye somewhat sheepishly. "Um, listen, Limbo... I'm sorry I dropped that on you out of nowhere this morning. I didn't want to sound like I cared about my own problems more than yours. I've just had a lot on my mind, and maybe I've been overthinking my situation."
"Oh, uh, n-no biggie," Limbo responded surprisingly bashfully. "You gotta look out for number one, I get it. I can't expect you to drop everything for my sake. You do what you gotta do."
Samba bit her lip as she mulled this over. Limbo was smiling at her, but it was an uncertain and fragile smile. It seemed as if Owl had hit the nail on the head. Samba felt a little better about this now, and gave her friend a smile. "Well, I think what I 'gotta do' is help you save Poe."
Limbo blinked as though she may have misheard her. "Uh, what? But... I thought you wanted to be 'realistic' and 'independent.'"
"Well, I think the 'reality' is that sometimes people need help to be independent, as ironic as that is." Samba suddenly felt a pit in her stomach as she realized something. "Oh, I'm not being too presumptuous here, am I? I mean, people don't usually come crawling back after they quit a job and actually get it back."
"No, no, of course not," Limbo assured her, unable to keep the relieved smile off her face. She breathed a deep sigh. "Not gonna lie, I'm super glad you came back. It's only been one day and I already feel like I've got cabin fever. Being one hundred percent transparent, I didn't actually do any investigating today because I was too distracted about you leaving."
"Oh, geez, I'm sorry. I had no idea you'd take it so hard." For as sympathetic as she was trying to be, Samba had to stifle a giggle. Owl definitely knew Limbo pretty well—perhaps even better than Limbo realized.
If Limbo could blush, she'd be a little red right now. "Yeah, well, maybe keep your lips zipped about that, yeah? So, does this mean you're quitting your dancing job for real this time?"
"I don't see why I need to. I don't really do anything with my time during the day anyway. Hanging with you and investigating hasn't really been much trouble all things considered."
"Ah, so you'll work with me during the day, and work at the pub at night. You sure you can handle that? You work pretty late over there."
"Uh, well, I guess."
"Tell you what: we can negotiate hours. You don't have to get up too early."
Samba smiled gratefully. "I appreciate that. So, uh... I guess I get two paychecks, then, huh? Rhapsody can't accuse me of having no work ethic now," she tittered.
Limbo chuckled a little herself. Afterwards, she and Samba shared a moment of relieved silence. All of this may have unfolded in less that twenty-four hours, but it had still felt like a rollercoaster for the two of them, and they were both satisfied to quickly return to the status quo knowing a little more about each other.
Limbo let out a quiet sigh, grinning fondly. "I'm glad you're here, Samba."
Samba smiled back cutely. "Me too."
Out of nowhere, Limbo pulled Samba in for a surprisingly tender hug, catching the unicorn off guard.
Even though she shuddered mildly from how cold Limbo's body was, Samba didn't hesitate to return the hug, though a little awkwardly—she was effectively hugging a corpse. "Heh, didn't peg you for the touchy-feely type, Limbo."
"And if you tell anypony, I'll break your legs," she responded with a persistent smile.
The day's plans were set. Limbo and Samba had some ground to make up in the Ghost investigation, so they weren't taking any guff from anypony who intended to get in their way. Limbo was still adamant about exploring her theory that the Ghost was specifically a changeling that worked for Mango Incorporated. That notion at least narrowed down their search a lot. Getting into Mango Inc. headquarters was perhaps the biggest hurdle, but she already felt like she had Mango Career's compliance with the investigation thanks to their meeting at the Magi-Tech Expo.
That being said, Limbo and Samba were not headed straight for Mango Inc. First, they wanted to stop at town hall to check out the citizen records. Getting some advanced knowledge of the people they may have to interrogate could be a boon and save them some time.
When they arrived at Bubble Gust's office, they found the breezie secretary conversing with both Mayor Highstrung and Loose Leaf. As per usual, the mayor was sweating profusely as Gust was instructing him about things regarding the upcoming reelection. If it weren't for the difference in size and species, one might think Gust was a mother trying to get something through her child's head.
"All you have to do is read everything I wrote for you without tripping over your words," Gust insisted firmly.
"I understand that, but you say it like it's so easy," the mayor whined. "You're not the one who has to speak in front of a crowd of people."
"You are the mayor," she reminded him, her high-pitched voice dripping with frustration. "It is your job to talk to people and organize your thoughts in a cohesive way. How is it you have stage fright?"
Highstrung drew back meekly. "I-Is there possibly any way you can somehow make it maybe a little easier? Perhaps?"
Gust rolled her eyes. "Honestly, where would you even be without me? I do not even know how you got into politics in the first place. Really, I should just run for mayor. Probably would not be difficult."
"Please don't. Career is intimidating enough," Highstrung moaned.
"Seems like tensions are high around here," Samba whispered to Leaf.
"You been here before? It's always like this," he told her with a smirk as he sipped his iced coffee.
"Yeah, well, we got business," said Limbo impatiently. She clomped a hoof on the desk, causing the mayor to jump, though Gust just cast her the stink eye. "If you wanna set aside your ill-fated election for a few minutes, I've got an investigation that needs investigating."
Mayor Highstrung actually knit his brow slightly at her, but there was clearly a lack of conviction in his eyes. "Need I remind you that I hired you to investigate the Ghost of Baltimare."
Limbo challenged his attempt at authority by leaning forward with a sneer, his frail façade cracking immediately as he drew back. "And how exactly am I gonna do that if you don't cooperate, 'Mister Mayor'? Just let me do my dang job and I'll let you get back to your job of getting ordered around by somepony one twentieth your size."
Highstrung backed off with a sigh. "What do you need, Detective?" he asked submissively.
"I need copies of any citizen records for changelings that work at Mango Inc. How long you think it'll take to manage that?"
"We can narrow it down with the immigration records," Gust told her as she fluttered over to the filing cabinets. "Most changelings living in the city immigrated here. Any who were born here are likely still young and living with their parents."
"Why do you need copies?" asked Leaf.
"Research. There might be relevant information to come across if I take some extra time to look 'em over. Don't have that kinda time right now. So let's go, chop chop."
Bubble Gust flapped over to give Limbo a disgruntled jab in the muzzle. "Do not push me. I have already had enough of his backtalk today," she warned, pointing a tiny hoof at the mayor.
Limbo just let out a forceful huff through her nostrils, the exhale strong enough to push Gust's lightweight body backward a few inches. The breezie begrudgingly went back to digging through the citizen records.
Leaf shook his head with a groan. "Yeesh. Everypony's in a mood today, aren't they?" he grumbled quietly.
"Limbo's just a little overeager since we're finally making some decent progress on the case," Samba told him.
"I mean, if she wanted info on Mango Inc. staff, she can just ask me. I mean, I don't actually work there myself, so I don't know everycreature there, but still..."
"How's your brother handling this by the way?"
Leaf sighed, but also couldn't hold back a small smirk. "He's been kind of a mess from what I've heard, but I haven't actually spoken to him since the expo, so who the hay knows? If I had to guess, he's probably been drilling his employees for information ever since."
"He's taking it pretty seriously, I assume. Makes sense. This can't be good for his reputation," Samba uttered sympathetically. "Think this'll hurt his chances in the election?"
"Pfft, you kidding? Have you met the Mango Inc. super fans? He could literally murder somepony and his zealots would still vouch for him. As seriously as he might be taking this, he's too influential to fail."
Samba could see the slight disdain on his face. She had gotten an idea of what Leaf's relationship with his brother was like. The two certainly seemed to be at odds, unfortunately. As somepony who had her own emotional issues with somepony she cared about, she felt bad for him.
That being said, she didn't want to poke her nose where it didn't belong. She and Limbo intended to head over to Mango Inc. anyway, so she might inadvertently gain some insight in that time. Right now, she figured a change in subject was in order. Samba's eyes drifted down to Leaf's barrel and legs, where there were still a few discolored spots.
"Bruises healing up good?" she asked compassionately.
Leaf lightly rubbed a bruise on his chest. "Yeah, it's fine. I went to the hospital afterward and the doctor said I don't have any serious injuries. So, yeah, don't worry about me. I'm just sorry I couldn't be more help in your investigation."
"Not like it would've mattered anyway. Your attacker was a disguised changeling. No offence, but I don't know how much help you could've been."
Leaf shrugged. "I guess."
Samba smiled reassuringly. "But it's not like we don't have anything to go on. We're probably gonna head over to talk to your brother when we leave here."
"Good luck with that," Leaf grumbled. "If I know Mango, he's probably neck deep in his own personal investigation at H.Q. Don't be surprised if he tries to throw you guys out."
"I don't think you have to worry about that. Limbo's too stubborn to care," Samba giggled.
"You don't have to tell me. I've known her longer than you."
Samba tilted her head inquisitively. "You know, that's something I've been meaning to ask about. Are you two close at all?"
"I don't know if I'd say 'close' per se, but—"
"Okay, this is taking too long," Limbo blurted impatiently at Bubble Gust, who was busy systematically removing papers with her self-engineered pulley system.
"You are the one who said you needed copies," Bubble Gust retaliated grouchily, letting a sheet of paper flutter to the carpeted floor. "Do not make demands if you are not patient enough to wait."
"Look, can I just borrow the files? I promise I'll return 'em safe and sound."
"You can't just leave with people's personal information," Mayor Highstrung told her.
Limbo glared at him through narrowed eyes. "You want this case solved before or after you lose the election? Because, let's face it, whether I crack this thing or not, it ain't gonna improve your chances. It's just gonna help you go out on a high note. You want me to catch the Ghost and save those people, then maybe make a few exceptions, yeah?"
Highstrung sighed, using his necktie to wipe the sweat from his forehead. "Alright, alright, fine. Bubble Gust, just get her the files."
"Well, I'm not sticking around because I have other stuff I need to get to, so I guess take your time and focus primarily on those who work for Mango Inc.," Limbo requested. "Just deliver 'em to my apartment later."
"I can drop 'em off if you want," Leaf offered. "I'm clocking out early today because I've got my own stuff I need to do later, so I can swing by your place first."
"Sounds good." Limbo grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper, wrote something down, and passed the paper to Leaf. "Here's the address for my building and my room number. Just slide the papers under the door or something."
"Can do."
"Just make sure to get those files back safe and sound," Highstrung requested worriedly. "The last thing I need is citizens becoming upset because their personal information got leaked."
"Correct," Bubble Gust chided the mayor. "Because you need to focus on your speech. You need all the help you can get to get a leg up on Career, so we do not need the people watching as you drip sweat onto the paper you are reading from. We are not leaving here today until you have committed it to memory."
The breezie grabbed the mayor by the ear and started to drag him toward his office. He was obviously too big for her to actually pull, but the subordinate mayor just meekly let her. Highstrung glanced back at the three other ponies, just weakly whimpering, "Help me..."
The two disappeared into the office, where Mayor Highstrung was likely going to be imprisoned for the rest of the day while Bubble Gust went about her other errands.
"Alright, no more dillydallying," Limbo asserted, paying no heed to the mayor's plight. She turned to Samba. "Let's get over to Mango Inc., A.S.A.P. Leaf, don't forget your job."
"I got it, chill out," he responded defensively.
Limbo trotted hurriedly to the door. "Get the lead out, Samba. I ain't worried about your hamstrings today."
Samba groaned, anticipating her exhaustion by the time they made it to their destination. "I'm coming." She flashed a smile at Leaf. "Catch you later."
"Good luck," he said back.
***** ***** *****
All Sambo and Limbo could do was crane their necks skyward at the gigantic structure towering over them, a fixture of monolithic proportions seated square in the middle of Baltimare.
Mango Incorporated headquarters was one of the tallest buildings in the city, yet it may appear to be one of the least industrious compared to other major corporations and manufacturers. In stark contrast to the concrete and steel that was common in other buildings of this size and importance, Mango Inc. practically looked like it was constructed entirely out of glass. The building didn't appear to have what one could even call walls past the first couple of floors, just windows that spanned the entire circumference of the cylindrical tower. It was practically the world's largest terrarium, allowing passersby to observe all the worker ants doing their thing.
That being said, the giant, transparent structure's post-modern and minimalistic design was juxtaposed by the lush gardens of trees and flowers surrounding it, creating a one hundred foot barrier of nature between it and the sterile city it was situated within. The pretentiousness of unionizing technology and nature didn't escape Limbo.
"You know, I see this building almost everyday, jutting up over all the others, but I've never actually been this close," Samba commented as she stared up at it. She had to bend her neck back even from the edge of the gardens just to take the whole thing in.
"I just can't help but think of that old saying about stones and glass houses," muttered Limbo. "Why do millionaires feel the need to blow their dough on 'artistic' nonsense like this? If he'd just contracted a more traditional building, maybe he could've made his magic helmet doohickey a few years ago."
"Well, there's a reason why those kinds of people are successful, right? They just think differently from us."
"I think there's a difference between being a visionary and being schizophrenic."
"That's being a little unfair, don't you think?" Samba chastised in disagreement.
"It's not like I'm saying they're mutually exclusive. I'm just saying, if Career starts talking about being 'zen' or 'centered,' I'm out."
"Based on what we've seen and what Leaf told us, he's probably miles away from zen right now."
With that, the two started their way down the path to the front door. Limbo kept her one eye trained forward, focused on the task at hoof, whereas Samba let herself take in the beauty of their surroundings. The "zen" thing might not have been far off; the place looked pretty relaxing, and it looked like some of the employees were chilling out in some gazebos during their break. That being said, the atmosphere got a little muddied as they approached the building and observed the groundskeeper shoveling up the corpses of dead pigeons that had blindly smacked into the immaculately polished windows.
Thankfully, the first floor at least offered some privacy compared to the rest of the building above, though there were still noticeably large windows around them. The lobby of Mango Inc. was practically barren. The walls were a blinding white that somehow made the interior even brighter than the cloudless sky outside. Limbo might not have remembered what it was like during the two weeks that she was truly dead, but she was getting a major sense of déjà vu having to shield her eye from the bright light. The only fixtures that broke up the monotony within the lobby were some uncomfortable, post-modern chairs situated off to one side and a glass coffee table with a single magazine sitting on it. Aside from that, there was just the reception desk off on the opposite side. There was a young zebra mare stationed behind it, but she was too distracted by her spellphone to notice the pair of mare's enter. Besides, she'd need a pair of binoculars to identify them from across the expansive room anyway.
And smack dab in the middle of the lobby was an a pair of elevators, the shafts glass tubes that extended all the way up through the center of the building. At the moment, only one of the lifts was on ground level. Limbo started toward it, ignoring the receptionist, and Samba followed along behind her, feeling a little intimidated by the sound of their hoofsteps echoing through the empty void.
There was somepony else standing outside the elevator, though, but it took until they got closer for them to recognize who it was: a buff earth pony stallion with a golden coat and light blue mane.
Limbo offered a friendly, albeit condescending grin. "Hey-o, big guy. How goes it?"
Quad Blast smiled back at her surprisingly unassumingly for a guy his size. "Mornin', Detective."
Limbo pursed her lips at his greeting, staring quizzically at him. "So you remember I'm a detective, but can't remember my name. Could you remember me if I gave you a nickname?"
"I don't 'member names very good," he reminded her. "Nicknames are names. Titles ain't names."
"What kind of bullcrap selective memory is th—you know what, nevermind. Bigger fish to fry. I'd introduce you to my associate here," Limbo said, gesturing to Samba, "but that'd just be an exercise in futility."
"I 'members her from the expo. Mornin', miss. Name's Quad Blast," Quad greeted with a courteous nod.
Samba smiled affably. She'd briefly seen the guy at the expo, but was never introduced. "Nice to meet you. I'm Sa—"
"Don't bother, he won't remember," Limbo interrupted. "Remembers his own name just fine, though. Figure that one out. Anyway, we came by to talk to your boss, so if you'll just step aside we can—"
As Limbo tried to shimmy past him, Quad stepped in her way, her face colliding with the solid wall that was his chest.
The detective glared up at him. "There a problem, bruiser?"
"You got an appointment?" he inquired threateningly.
"If I did, would you even know? Your appointment list require a glamor shot so you can identify visitors?"
He tilted his head toward the inattentive receptionist. "She'd have your name wrote down. You call before coming?"
Limbo narrowed her eyes, prodding the guard in his brick-like barrel. "We're investigating the Ghost. You know, the guy that stole that dumb-looking hat? Your boss ain't gonna have a problem with me coming to speak with him."
Quad shook his head. "Sorry, jus' doin' my job, Detective. No appointment, no entry."
Limbo rolled her eye. "Alright, I'm officially ignoring you now."
Limbo made to just brazenly brush by him, but before she could even register what was happening, she'd suddenly found herself pinned to the floor with what felt like a sack of hardened concrete on top of her.
"The hay?! Get off-a me!" she demanded, struggling to loosen his grip, but unable to budge under his weight and sheer strength.
Quad looped his right front leg under Limbo's own, holding her in a firm, unyielding grapple. "Nopony gets past under my watch, Detective, not even you. Jus' leave quietly and we won't have no problems."
Samba could only stand by worriedly as Quad kept Limbo incapacitated. "Uh, m-maybe we should just call Mr. Career and let him know we're here. I'll just ask the receptionist to—"
"No! I've—hngh—got this!" Limbo insisted as she squirmed. "You got nothing on me! You ain't got the guts!"
Quad just shrugged nonchalantly. "I didn't wanna do this, but you asked for it."
Without any further warning, Quad tightened his grip on Limbo's right front leg, and the sound of a sickening pop echoed through the lobby, loud enough to distract the receptionist from her phone.
Samba stood there in slight horror as Limbo stopped struggling. "Oh, my gosh!"
The detective stared in shock at her dislocated shoulder, very caught off guard. "Eeyoley moly! The big galoot actually went and done it!"
Quad stood back up, releasing Limbo, though his face started to turn a little green. "I... tried to warn ya," he said with a queasy burp.
Limbo got back up as well, though her right front leg was now hanging limply. "You really don't joke around, huh? Kinda gotta respect that, I guess."
"Uh, you okay, Limbo?" Samba asked.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I don't have to tell you that I've had way worse injuries than this." Limbo sat back, grabbed her dislocated leg, and expertly popped it back into its socket. "Doesn't mean it don't hurt like the dickens, though," she groaned as she rolled her shoulder to work out the discomfort.
"Can we please just ask the receptionist if she can call Mr. Career?" Samba pleaded. "I don't want to have to watch you piece yourself back together like a puzzle."
"Yeah, whatever. I think I made my point anyway," she claimed triumphantly, haughtily smirking at Quad as he tried keep his breakfast down.
Limbo and Samba began the rigorous journey toward the reception desk, but before they could manage more than a few steps, one of the elevators arrived at the lobby. Standing inside, visible through the glass elevator shaft, was the very man they'd come to see. Mango Career stepped out, looking surprisingly haggard. His expertly gelled hair was rather unkempt, and his eyes were dark and bloodshot. And the expression on his face reflected his physical state: irate and exhausted.
Career immediately set his eyes on Quad. "Alright, what's going on down here? Zuri just called and said there was a disturbance."
Quad took a deep breath to steady his stomach, and tilted his head toward the two visitors. "These two're tryin' to get in without an appointment, so I had to rough one of 'em up."
Career turned to the two mares, Limbo giving him an disgruntled stare and cocking her eyebrow expectantly. He then responded to Quad's explanation with a low growl. "Quad, I told you to let Detective Limbo through if she showed up."
Quad simply blinked blankly.
Career ran a hoof down his face with a groan. "Right, guess that's on me." He turned back to Limbo and Samba, trying to offer as welcoming a smile as he could manage. "I'm glad to see you, Detective. Would you like to come up to my office?"
"That's why we came here," she accepted.
Career gestured for them to enter the elevator. Quad gave Limbo an apologetic frown as she passed by.
"My bad..." he mumbled ashamedly.
"Hey, no hard feelings. But next time I come by, I'll be popping out your shoulder," she told him with a challenging smirk.
"I highly doubt that," Samba deadpanned.
Limbo, Samba, and Mango Career entered the elevator, the latter pressing the button to take the lift up to his office on the top floor. With an almost inaudible hum, the elevator began its ascent. Once they got above the first couple of floors, they could finally see outside again through the rounded, glass walls of the building. Samba watched with silent awe as they rose higher and higher, and the city gradually went lower and lower. She'd been inside tall apartment buildings before, but being able to see the skyline on all sides from this height was almost mesmerizing, if not a little disorienting. Once they hit the twentieth floor or so, Samba began to feel a pit in her stomach, exacerbated by the fact that the floor of the elevator was also glass, meaning that there was nowhere to avert her eyes from the increasingly dizzying heights surrounding them.
That being said, one's attention might also be diverted by the myriad employees diligently doing their work. Samba and Limbo got a brief look at each floor as the elevator rose. Floors of cubicles where accountants were balancing the company budget; meeting rooms where the marketing teams were discussing new advertisements; the R&D department where tech nerds were testing, fixing, and tweaking spellphones and other devices; a break room with arcade machines, pool tables, and televisions to help employees unwind. At times, it felt like they were observing the lives of citizens living in a small-scale city. At this point, they wouldn't have been surprised to see a floor with beds for people to sleep overnight.
But for as many floors as they'd passed already, the digital panel inside the elevator indicated they had only yet risen beyond half of the building's eighty floors. So, rather than just awkwardly stand in silence, Limbo decided to start with the questions early.
"So... You look like you've seen better days," she said bluntly to Career.
The stallion sighed wearily. "I've barely slept since the expo. How can I knowing that that maniac is out there using my creation for Celestia-knows-what?"
"Have you talked to your staff?"
"I don't know what good it would do. If it is one of them, they'd obviously never admit to it."
"That's not the point. We need info, Mr. Career. Anything we can get is better than nothing."
"I am not going to single out my changeling employees based on your simple hunch," Career hissed adamantly.
Limbo shrugged at his defensive response. "Fine. I mean, if you don't want your invention back..."
Career groaned in defeat. "Is there any way we can be a little more discreet about it?"
"In the interest of time, I'm gonna say no. The faster we get this done, the better."
By now, the elevator had arrived on the top floor, letting the three ponies out into Mango Career's office. Like the ground floor, his office had actual walls, save for the back wall behind his minimalistic, white desk. The back wall was just one big, curved window that looked out toward Horseshoe Bay, but the rest of the room was lined with bookshelves, filing cabinets, cupboards, and even several monitors that were currently displaying nothing and were presumably for video conferences.
And true to what Career had told Limbo at the Magi-Tech Expo, the office was in a pretty sorry state. Papers were strewn about everywhere, several dismantled spellphones and their components were laying on his desk, a trash can beside his desk was overflowing with crumpled paper so much that the bin itself was barely visible, and many candy wrappers, empty potato chip bags, and takeout containers were left here and there. All in all, Limbo actually felt a little at home.
"So what do you propose I do?" Career asked.
"Well, first of all, somepony needs to talk to your people, even if it's not you," Limbo told him, idly picking up a chocolate bar wrapper. "Have the police been here already?"
"Just one officer. A Sergeant Night Owl."
Limbo cocked an eyebrow. "Just Owl?"
Career simply shrugged. "Just him. He questioned some of my staff, but I don't know if he learned anything from it. None of our changeling staff were at the expo, but I suppose that doesn't mean anything." He ran a hoof through his disheveled mane with a sigh. "I hate to think any of them snuck in under a disguise. My company conducts thorough background checks during the hiring process, and any remotely illegal activity above jaywalking is grounds for termination. I don't want my company associated with that sort of thing, so you understand why I want this resolved."
Limbo grimaced at him. "Again, I feel like there are more important things to worry about than your reputation."
Career cast her a disgruntled glower. "Detective, with all due respect, finding those people is your job. It's not that I don't care, but I have to a business to run, and I can't do that if my company's reputation tanks."
"Well, that goes both ways," she retaliated firmly. "I don't really give a crap what happens to your company, but finding the Ghost is gonna benefit both of us, so it would behoove you to cooperate."
"I'm doing what I can while also trying to be respectful to my employees who immigrated to this kingdom in good faith."
"Everycreature is capable of malevolence. We don't want to discriminate, but that's the hard truth. As a law enforcement officer, I know that better than most people, and sometimes we have to do something we don't like for the greater good. So, can we try and think about the bigger picture here? People's lives are at stake, and even more will be the longer this goes on."
Career was quiet for a moment as he walked around to sit behind his desk. "What are you hoping to learn anyway? Do you really believe the culprit will just tell you what want to know if you can even find them?"
"Well, let me ask you something, Mr. Career: how much have you learned since the theft?"
Career learned back in his chair, grumbling something under his breath.
Limbo held a hoof to her ear condescendingly. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. You mind speaking up?"
"Nothing, okay? I've learned nothing," he begrudgingly admitted.
"Because you choose to learn nothing," Limbo insisted, leaning on the desk. "You're so worried about your own reputation that you can't even bring yourself to do anything about it because you're afraid of what you'll find. You're hanging yourself with your own noose. Your company is the best lead we have, so if you're going to continue refusing to cooperate, I'll just have to arrest you for obstruction of justice. How'll that affect your reputation?"
Mango Career lowered his head, scratching his scalp vigorously as he internally fought to make a decision. Eventually, he lifted his head again, a reluctant frown on his face. "I promise I'll do what I can," he muttered quietly.
"I've heard that before, but I guess I'll take your expression at face value—no pun intended."
"So, are you going to interrogate my staff now?" he asked with a defeated grimace.
"As much as I'd like to, I don't actually think I'd get much out of it. The Ghost knows me. If I ended up talking to the right person here, they'd no doubt feed me false information to send me down the wrong path. That's why I wanted you to do whatever you could to help, so I could then get the info from you."
Career got back up from his desk, walking around to offer a remorseful look. "I'm sorry, Detective. I don't mean to hinder your investigation, but you have to understand that I'm very stressed out right now and extremely exhausted. I'm not exactly sure I trust myself to even treat my employees fairly and not fly off the handle at little things in my current state."
Limbo scratched her ear with a reluctant groan. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Maybe at least try to get some sleep or something and approach this with a clear head. I'm kinda relying on you here."
"I'll do that," he agreed with a tired yawn. "But what are you going to do now, then?"
She shrugged. "No idea. Might have to take some time to weigh my options. I do have other cases I can look into in the meantime. So, how about this? My assistant here will give you her number, and you contact her if you learn any relevant information."
Career smiled weakly. "Sounds like a plan."
"Okey doke. Samba?"
Samba's ears perked up suddenly, as though she'd been snapped from a trance. "Huh?"
Limbo stared at her quizzically, noting how narrow her pupils were and that she had started to turn a little blue in the face as she just stared out the window. "You good, Samba?"
"Oh, uh, yeah. Just, um... coming to terms with the fact that I apparently have a fear of heights now. You, uh... You need something?" she asked shakily.
"Give Career your number."
"Oh, okay." Samba didn't argue and just gave her phone number to Mango Career, who registered it in his own spellphone. "So, can we leave now before I lose feeling in my legs?" she requested desperately.
"Sure. Just remember to not look down when we're on the elevator," Limbo recommended as they headed for the lift.
Samba felt her fur bristle. "Don't say that! Now I'm not gonna be able to not look down!"
Limbo had to lightly drag Samba away from the obscuring walls of Career's office and into the glass elevator, riding it all the way back down. Limbo gave a friendly wave to Quad as they made their way back through the lobby and outside.
Samba let out a sigh, just relieved to feel solid terra firma underneath her hooves again.
Limbo grinned knowingly. "You alright there, wobbles?" she teased, noticing the other mare's knees still quivering.
"Uh, yeah." Samba brushed a hoof through her wavy mane. "I'm just realizing how lucky I am to only live in a second floor apartment. You mind if we take a minute so I can find my legs again?"
"Sure, why not?" Limbo looked around the gardens outside the building, spotting an empty gazebo nearby. "We can sit down over there, take in the scenery for a bit."
Samba agreed to that idea with a nod, and the two made their way down a connecting pathway past some shrubbery to reach the cozy gazebo. There was a picnic table in the middle that they sat at, and upon it was a half eaten bag of potato chips and an open can of soda that somepony had likely left in haste when they realized too late that their break was over.
"So you're only realizing now that you have a fear of heights?" Limbo questioned.
"I've never had a reason to go the roof of anypony's apartment building. Your place on the fifth floor is the highest I've gone."
"Eh, it's probably no big deal. Most people would have the same reaction in a place like that," Limbo said with a dismissive shrug.
Samba furrowed her brow indignantly. "That's easy for you to say. If you fell from the top of that place, your broken body would just regenerate."
"Hey, it ain't like I'm invincible just because I'm a zombie. My skull could shatter and a piece of bone could penetrate my brain. I'd be done-zo if that happened."
Samba frowned slightly. Limbo was clearly aware that, despite everything, her body had limitations. Yet, like Night Owl said, she was still pretty reckless—apparently even more so than when she was alive. "So how come you don't try to be more careful?"
"Whaddaya mean?"
"Well, I know you said you don't care about what happens to you as long as you can save Poe, but have you ever actually put any thought into what you're going to do after that?"
"Does it matter?" she countered rather nonchalantly. "I'm a walking corpse. The sole purpose of this 'afterlife' is to pay back Poe for what she did for me. What happens after that doesn't matter. In fact, if I die again after I save her, it might be for the better. Then nopony can figure out what she did and arrest her for it."
"But—"
Limbo held up her hoof to interrupt her, though flashed an appreciative smile. "Look, I'm flattered that you care so much about somepony you've known for barely over a week, but maybe let me make my own decisions. I might be dead, but I'm still an adult and a member of law enforcement. I'm breaking the law just by existing, so I've got to think about this from multiple angles."
"And you're okay with that? You don't value your life anymore?"
"I have no life," Limbo told her with utmost seriousness and acceptance. "I'm a shambling cadaver who only wants to repay her debts to the one person in her life that she's ever cared about. I mean, think about it: corpses reanimated by necromancers are typically resurrected to serve the one who revived them, right?"
"Uh, I dunno. I don't really watch movies or read books or anything like that."
Limbo grimaced a little. "Man, we gotta get you some culture. Everypony needs to see a good zombie flick," she insisted, taking a sip of the open grape soda left on the table.
Samba blanched at the sight as Limbo slurped down the soda. "Ew! What are you doing?!"
"What?"
"Somepony else was drinking that. That's gross."
Limbo just gave her a deadpan stare. "Really? What were we just talking about? Germs don't mean squat to me."
"It's still gross," Samba repeated with a disgusted shudder.
"Look, I haven't had a coffee since we left. I gotta get my caffeine fix somehow, even if this stuff's gone flat by now. Oh, speaking of which, I bet Webber'd like some too, right, buddy?"
At the mention of his name, the spindly arachnid crawled out from underneath Limbo's eyepatch—a sight that Samba still wasn't entirely used to. Webber crawled down onto the table and Limbo poured out a small drop of the grape soda onto the table for him.
"Can he drink that stuff?" Samba asked curiously.
"Of course he can. See?" Limbo gestured to Webber, who was contently consuming the purple liquid.
"Okay, but should he?"
Limbo shrugged. "He tried coffee once and he was fine. I mean, he was crawling around the walls all night like he was possessed by a demon, but it didn't hurt him or anything. Can't imagine some flat soda would be any worse," she said as she chomped on a chip. She then nudged the bag toward Samba. "Want one?"
Samba politely pushed the bag back with a grimace. "No thanks."
"Hm, more for me."
Samba, perhaps subconsciously wanting to change the subject, glanced back at the Mango Inc. building. "So, what are we doing now? I was... kinda distracted while we were up there, so I didn't catch the whole conversation." She pulled out her spellphone. Seeing Mango Career's name right underneath Luster Dawn's on her contacts list was a pretty surreal sight.
"The quick synopsis is that Career is—hopefully—going to talk to his employees and get some info for us. He'll contact you when or if he learns something."
"You think this'll be better than asking yourself? I think I remember you saying you probably wouldn't be as successful, but is there any credence to that?"
Limbo tapped the table in thought, crunching another chip between her teeth. "You might be right, but that's kinda the reason I told him that."
Samba tilted her head, puzzled. "What's that mean?"
"Don't you think Career's being a little wishy washy? He's tearing his hair out over the theft, but he's not putting much effort into actually finding the culprit. Maybe he's trying to focus on the business side of things, maybe he's just being selfish, but he's clearly apprehensive about digging too deep."
"You think he's afraid the Ghost will come after him if he talks?"
"That's not the Ghost's style. Owl might think that they kidnapped Poe to threaten me, but we both know differently, right?"
Samba said nothing.
Limbo leaned on the table, knitting her brow as she mulled it over. "I don't want to jump to conclusions or anything, but if I didn't know any better, I'd almost think he was trying to cover the Ghost's tracks."
"What? Why would he do that?"
Limbo shrugged. "No idea. Maybe just in the hopes that we're wrong about them working for Mango Inc., maybe just because he's afraid of the Ghost. But, if I'm being honest, I don't know if I trust Career much anymore. We'll just have to see, I guess. If he calls you within the next few days, then we can probably call him trustworthy. Right now, though, I'm putting him on the sus list. At this point, I wouldn't be too surprised if he was in cahoots with the Ghost."
"I think that's going a bit far," Samba disagreed. "I mean, what would he have to gain from—"
"Shh."
Limbo discreetly pointed behind Samba toward the building. Samba cautiously glanced back over her shoulder. Somepony was coming outside. Under normal circumstances, that wouldn't seem odd, but this person was wearing an oversized hoodie that obscured their face, concealed their cutie mark, and made it hard to determine what race they were—even their tail was tucked up underneath the hoodie. A pair of large sunglasses could barely be seen underneath the hood, but no more of their face was visible from their vantage point.
Samba turned back to Limbo, keeping her voice down. "You don't think..."
"That'd probably be too easy, but that's definitely a suspicious looking character if I've ever seen one."
"What do we do?"
Limbo watched closely as the individual traipsed down the path toward the exit of the gardens. "Going back to what I was just saying, it's not entirely out of the realm of possibility that the Ghost could have cohorts. Kidnapping all those people as efficiently as they have would be a difficult task for just one person. After all, they did enlist Wick Nimble, so maybe 'scapegoats' is more apt than 'cohorts.'"
"Are we gonna tail him, then?"
"Until Career gets in touch with us, we've got nothing else to go on, so we may as well." Limbo chugged the remainder of the grape soda and gestured for Webber to crawl back into her eye socket, then waited for the suspicious character to near the gate before getting up. "Come on."
Samba followed along behind her, the two keeping within the bushes of the garden to avoid being spotted. Once out to the street, the shady person hailed a taxi, though Limbo and Samba remained too far away to hear where they'd asked the cabbies to take them. Once he'd climbed into the carriage, Limbo booked it out of the bushes toward the road to flag down another taxi.
"Where to, miss?" asked one of the two cabbies.
She urgently pointed to the other taxi making its way down the street. "Follow that cab!"
The cabbie cocked an eyebrow. "This ain't a movie, ma'am. We ain't in the business of stalking people."
"I'm a detective," she explained with an impatient eyeroll, quickly flashing her badge. "I'm doing my job, so I expect you to do yours."
He huffed begrudgingly. "Fine, get in."
Limbo opened the carriage door, but glanced back. "Samba, get a move on!"
The unicorn mare was busy untangling her wavy tail from the twigs of the bushes. "Ugh, be right there. Hng!" She yanked her tail out of the shrubs, tumbling over and leaving a few stray strands of hair behind. She quickly got back up and hurried over to climb into the taxi with Limbo before they got carried along on their way.
As they sat across from one another, Limbo stared at Samba's normally well-styled mane. "Uh, you've got a little something..."
Samba ran a hoof through her mane, several leaves and small twigs falling out of or tugging on her hair. She groaned in discomfort. "Great... Now I gotta spend the rest of my day fixing this before work tonight."
"Well, your beauty ain't a concern at this job, so get those pink irises trained forward."
Samba glanced out the cab window, seeing only nondescript buildings whizzing by. "Where you think they're headed?"
Limbo opened the window, poking her head out to analyze their current surroundings. She could still barely see the other cab further down the street. After a few moments, she sat down again. "Looks like we're headed downtown."
"I guess that makes sense," Samba said, though a little uneasily. "If you're a seedy type, you're probably going to hang out in the seedy part of town."
"Stuff is starting to stitch together though."
Samba tilted her head at that comment. "What do you mean?"
"Think about it. Sizzle Conifer's parents said he was going to an audition downtown, then he disappeared. Wick Nimble met his contact—who we are assuming is the Ghost—at your workplace, which is downtown."
Samba's ears perked up as she put the pieces together. "Oh, you think the Ghost's lair might be downtown, then."
Limbo scrunched her lips. "'Lair'? We're not dealing with a comic book super villain."
"Well, what would a ghost call their base of operations?"
"I'd call areas they like to hang out 'haunts,' but I guess that doesn't work for their hideout. A grave, maybe?"
"A mausoleum? Oh, what about a tomb?"
"Hmm, tomb... I like that actually. And when you think about it, it's pretty thematic, yeah? I mean, I'm a zombie tracking a 'ghost.' Maybe 'grave' would be a more appropriate term for my base of operations..." Limbo suddenly shook her head. "W-We're getting off topic. In any case, you know the phrase, 'Two is a coincidence, three is a pattern'? Well, Sizzle and Wick could have been a coincidence, but this guy we're following could be the pattern."
"Assuming they're related to the Ghost at all."
"We'll figure that out when we reach our destination—wherever that is. But even if they aren't, there's no denying that that guy was being shifty as all get out. I mean, who goes out on a nice day like this in a big ol' hoodie? They're probably sweltering in that thing."
Samba shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "Not gonna lie, I'm starting to get 'stalker' vibes."
"Ooh, hopefully."
Samba furrowed her brow, vexed by Limbo's suddenly eager reaction. "What do you mean 'hopefully'? I never want to see that guy again."
"What are you talking about? I thought you wanted to catch him."
"I want you to catch him. You offered, remember? I want to stay far away from that creep."
Limbo shrugged indifferently. "Whatever. I need to redeem myself anyway. In all honesty, I'm still a little embarrassed that a civilian had to come to my rescue. Thankfully, Owl doesn't know about that. He'd never let me live that one down, especially after I told them all where they can shove it," she grumbled.
"At least I could rest easier knowing that that guy was off the streets. I mean, it's probably a long shot either way, but we can hope that we aren't just wasting our time here."
"Hey, even if this is just some punk shoplifter or something, it's better than nothing. We ain't the B.P.D. There's no crime too small for Detective Limbo," she stated proudly.
The carriage began to slow, so Limbo poked her head out the window again to see what was up. "Yo, cabbie. Everything good?"
"Your 'friend's' taxi stopped up ahead," one of the cabbies told her. "We figured you didn't wanna be seen, so we're lettin' you out here. That fine?"
Limbo hopped out of the carriage, Samba following suit. They spotted the other taxi down at the other end of the street, their target currently paying his own cabbies. Limbo gave their drivers a satisfied grin, dumping some bits out of her wallet for them. "Perfect. Thanks, fellas. And a little extra for being so considerate."
One of the cabbies happily accepted the bits. "No problem. Hopefully he doesn't call the cops on you," he quipped, the two snickering as they galloped off.
"Hey! I told you I ain't a stalker! Gimme back that tip, ya jerk face!" Limbo shouted indignantly, but they were already gone. She let out a huff through her nostrils. "Some people, I swear..."
"Maybe keep your voice down," Samba warned her quietly. "If that is the Ghost, they'll recognize your voice."
"Yeah, yeah, let's just catch up and see what they're up to," Limbo grumbled.
They made to follow the hooded individual, keeping a safe distance to avoid being recognized. Oddly, even though the person had left their taxi, it appeared as though they still hadn't arrived at their destination and kept walking down the street. Even though Samba lived downtown, she didn't spend much time out and about if she could help it, usually just walking the quickest route to work or the grocery store or wherever she needed to go. As such, she wasn't familiar with this particular neighborhood. They weren't very far from the wharfs, so the salty smell of the bay was noticeable, and that accentuated the dinginess of the area. It wasn't uncommon to find graffiti on the walls, or overturned trash cans, and most of the buildings downtown were barely successful businesses, cheap apartment buildings for people who couldn't afford to live elsewhere—like Samba—or boarded up and abandoned.
And if that didn't already make the atmosphere depressing enough, it wasn't uncommon to pass along by the occasional homeless creature. While most of them were ponies, there were unfortunately a number of other creatures amongst them, likely immigrants who moved to Equestria to broaden their horizons, but found it more difficult than they anticipated and wound up without enough money to return home. Princess Twilight was known to make occasional efforts to provide sanctuary for such impoverished individuals, but could only do so much with everything else on her plate.
But the plight of the homeless wasn't necessarily Limbo and Samba's concern right now. It was pretty obvious that the person they were tailing wasn't hard up for cash considering they clearly worked for Mango Inc., so that made it even more suspicious as to why they'd come all the way downtown. They highly doubted that this person lived in this part of the city. It was possible that they were simply frugal, but that didn't explain why they were seemingly trying to conceal their identity and why they hadn't taken the taxi all the way to their destination.
"Ugh, I'm pooped," Samba puffed breathily. "With all the walking around today and the stress of being waaaaay up inside a glass tower, I could use a little rest. Maybe a hot meal, a bubble bath, a good magazine. Oh, you know what I haven't had in a long time? A hooficure. But spas are kind of expensive."
"I can treat you to supper after this if you want, but a spa trip is a little outside my budget," Limbo offered.
"What budget? You don't need food or heat."
"I buy coffee. Lots of coffee. And I still enjoy eating. My tastes buds aren't quite dead. And maybe I don't need heat, but Webber does."
"Have you ever thought about a trip to the spa, though? Might help you relax a little. Could even be good for you. A massage might loosen up your muscles, work out that rigor mortus," Samba giggled jokingly.
"I think I'm way past the point of rigor mortus. If my body becomes any looser, I might just turn into a pool of jelly. Besides, with how brittle my bones are compared to a living person, a massage might break something, which wouldn't be good for keeping my secret a secret."
"Huh. Guess I never thought about how your condition can limit you in some ways. It's kinda sad," said Samba sympathetically.
"Oh, no, I can't visit the spa and have strangers rubbing their hooves all over me," Limbo deadpanned sarcastically. "I think I can survive without it, thank you very much."
"Well, technically you didn't," Samba tittered.
Limbo glared bemusedly. "We'll be dropping this conversation now."
She turned her attention back to the task at hoof. They'd followed their target around a couple of different street corners already, but it felt like they were reaching the end of the road, so to speak. The person seemed to be making a hurried pace towards a large, non-descript, single story building at the opposite end of the street. From their position, Limbo and Samba could see through the wide window to the right of the building's front door, and several other people were present inside, though they couldn't tell what was going on in there from this distance.
Limbo guided Samba quickly to a nearby alleyway to conceal themselves, poking around the corner to keep an eye out. "I'd wager they're headed for that place."
"Looks like it. You think it's, like, a drug den or something?"
"What drug den would have a big window like that? There's plenty of places around here more discreet for drug deals."
"Maybe it's a hideout for organized crime."
"If you're referring to the mafia, then that's doubtful. There're no crime syndicates like that in Baltimare."
"Okay, well what about—"
Limbo pulled back into the alley, raising a hoof to interrupt Samba. "Alright, look, the enthusiasm's commendable, but we're not getting anywhere just throwing out theories. Whatever's going on in there, it's probably not good for us, so I think we're in an 'ask questions later' sorta scenario. Wait here."
"Huh? Wait, where are—"
Without any hesitation, Limbo started bolting down the street to catch up to the mystery person before they made it to the building. The clopping of her hooves on the pavement effectively mitigated a proper sneak attack, but she was galloping so furiously that the perp barely had time to turn around before Limbo leapt onto their back and tackled them to the ground right as they reached the sidewalk outside the building, knocking their sunglasses off in the process.
"Alright, I'm gonna have to ask that you stop struggling and cooperate!" Limbo demanded as she held the guy down.
"What are you doing?! Let me go!"
Limbo blinked, the familiar voice catching her off guard. She pulled back his hood to reveal his face, finding the vexed face of a silver unicorn stallion that she'd just spoken to half an hour ago.
Samba hurried over to assess the situation, her eyes widening in surprise when she recognized him as well. "Mr. Career?"
"They hay are you doing all the way out here?" Limbo asked.
"Oh, no, don't bother apologizing for assaulting me out of nowhere, Detective. Perfectly reasonable," he growled sarcastically.
The door in front of them opened, revealing yet another familiar face that Limbo and Samba weren't expecting to see: Mango Career's own brother, wearing an off white apron and his thick mane stuffed into a hair net.
"What's going on out here?" asked Leaf, befuddled by the sight of his older brother being pinned down by Limbo.
"Leaf? Uh, well, this is awkward," said Limbo. "We followed your brother out here because he looked suspicious with this getup. I didn't realize it was him until now. I kinda thought it might be the Ghost or something."
"Well, obviously not," Career grumbled. "Now, will you please get off of me!"
Limbo did as he commanded and stood up, allowing Career to stand and dust himself off while casting her an irate scowl.
"So, what are you doing out here, Mr. Career?" asked Samba. "And you for that matter, Leaf?"
"We volunteer here regularly," Leaf answered.
Limbo cocked an eyebrow. "'Volunteer'?"
"Yeah. This is a soup kitchen."
Limbo and Samba peered through the window. The group of people they'd seen inside were actually a bunch of shaggy-looking creatures in tattered clothes, presumably homeless or impoverished people. They were all sat around with bowls of stew, though their attention was currently focused on the two mares staring back at them and the commotion coming from outside.
"Oh. Not what I was expecting," muttered Limbo.
"Hopefully that's enough to quell any suspicion," Career grumbled. He picked up his sunglasses and tucked them into his hoodie's pocket, removing his thin spectacles instead. However, he grimaced when he spotted a crack in one of the lenses, shooting another irate glower at Limbo.
Limbo grinned awkwardly. "I'll, uh... I'll pay for those. No hard feelings?"
Career sighed, putting his broken glasses on. "Just count yourself lucky that you're helping me with the Ghost situation. Otherwise, you'd need to compensate for more than just my glasses."
Limbo pouted in annoyance at his attitude. "Yeesh, jump down my throat for doing my job, why don'tcha? You're the one who looked like a junkie looking for his next fix."
"Why are you dressed like that anyway?" asked Samba. "I doubt this is your casual attire."
"It isn't, no," he replied. "But why don't we continue this conversation inside? There are people waiting for their food."
"Uh, sure," Limbo agreed.
The four ponies entered the building. Not surprisingly, the interior was pretty bare bones. All the homeless people present likely didn't care about presentation as long as they got their food. Most of them were seated at long cafeteria tables and enjoying their meals, though some of them were still eyeing up the two mares that had just showed up. On the left side of the building was a separate room, but with a large, open window giving full view of the kitchen inside from where the cooks passed the food to the visitors, a short line of a half a dozen people waiting outside for Leaf to return. Currently, the earthy smell of vegetable stew wafted out from the kitchen, only barely overpowering the smell of dirt and grime coming from the people who were eating it. Of note, there was nopony else in the kitchen.
Leaf and Career went into the kitchen, the latter removing his hoodie and hanging it up, replacing it with an apron and hair net of his own as Leaf went back to pouring up stew for the hungry vagrants.
Limbo leaned on the counter looking into the kitchen. "So, you two help out the homeless, huh?"
"Every now and then," said Leaf.
"That's pretty noble. Big corporate man helping out the less fortunate," Limbo commended with a nod. However, she quirked an eyebrow at Leaf as she recalled something. "Hold up, you were supposed to drop those files off at my place. You didn't forget, did you?"
He gave her a facetious scowl. "Of course not. I dropped 'em off before I came here. What, you don't trust me?"
Limbo held up her hooves to diffuse him. "Chill out, just making sure. That stuff is important to the case, that's all." She eyed up a bowl of stew as Leaf passed it to a weary pegasus. "That looks pretty tasty. Can I get a bowl?"
"The food here's for homeless folk, Limbo. I know you don't know what a comb is, but looking scruffy isn't enough to get you free food," Leaf quipped with a playful smirk.
Limbo chuckled, brushing the insult off. "Yeah, well, I have to replace your brother's glasses, so I might have to skip a meal or two to make up for it."
Leaf chuckled. "Alright, I'll get you some pity stew. What about you, Samba? You, uh... kinda look like you belong here too," he snickered, gesturing to her mane.
"Huh?" Samba pulled a leaf out of her hair, giggling awkwardly. "Fair point, but I'm good. Save it for the people who need it."
"We have plenty, but whatever you say," Leaf said with a shrug as he passed a bowl to Limbo.
Limbo chomped down on a mouthful of broth and mixed vegetables, moaning contentedly. "Mmm, tha'sh good stuff," she complimented as she chewed. "Might not be so bad to be homeless if I would get to eat this stuff everyday." She glanced to the line of people standing next to her, who were giving her the stink eye. She grinned awkwardly. "Uh, I'm joking. I'm sure life is tough for you guys, heh."
"To answer your question from before, my attire was to conceal my identity," Career told them as he stirred the pot of stew. "Admittedly, I guess it does make me look a tad shady."
"But why do you want to hide yourself?" questioned Samba. "I figured it'd be good press if people knew you were doing this."
"That's just the problem. You may recall that Princess Twilight's altruism is a great source of inspiration for me. If I publicize this, there will be people who assume I'm doing it for the sole purpose of improving my public image."
"I mean, your public image is already pretty positive. People think spellphones are one of the greatest inventions in history."
"You seemed to be pretty concerned about your public image after your device was stolen, though," Limbo pointed out with a skeptical glare. "Seems to me like you could use the boost. At least, if your interpretation of the situation is accurate."
Career narrowed his eyes right back at her. "Are you implying something, Detective?"
"She's saying your façade is starting to show cracks," Leaf sneered.
Career turned his glower at his brother. "Excuse me?"
"For as much as you talk about altruism, that's all it really is: talk."
"I'm sorry, who's the one who pays for all the food we offer here? Are you saying this is selfish?" Career argued as he delivered a bowl of stew to an uncomfortable-looking zebra.
"Altruism implies that you put others before yourself. I've gotten a few texts from friends who work for you saying that things have been a nightmare since the Spellmet was stolen. I honestly wasn't even expecting you to come out here today."
"You don't understand the stress I'm under right now, Leaf," Career argued adamantly. "I have to focus on the Spellmet. I can't help make Equestria a better place if my company is under attack by this controversy."
"Yeah? Then how do you explain leaving me out of everything before that? Not keeping me updated, not asking for input, not even including me in the discussion of naming the thing! You claim to be putting Equestria first, but you're just ignoring your own little brother."
Samba leaned over to Limbo, whispering to her uncomfortably. "Think we should leave?"
Limbo waved her off, spooning some veggies into her mouth. "Just let this play out. See where it goes."
"See what you're doing?" Leaf said, gesturing to the awkward looks they were getting from the other people in the building. "All you're doing is making a scene."
Career rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses. "Perhaps you'd prefer if I just went back to the office. I didn't have to take time out of my day to come here. I do have more pressing issues to address, no offence to anycreature here."
"Oh, yeah, that sounds like altruism alright," Leaf quipped sarcastically.
"Maybe it's not my place to say, but I feel like this isn't the place to be doing this," Samba interjected sympathetically.
"When else can we do this?" said Leaf with a stubborn grimace. "I only ever see Mango anymore when we're here, or at events like the Magi-Tech Expo so that he has his legion of supporters behind him to make me look like the bad guy. His 'altruism' is a trump card he keeps tucked in his sleeve to play when the time is right."
"You know, I can flip this right back on you, Leaf," Career snipped. "Nothing is stopping you from coming to visit once in a while. You never needed an invite."
"Well, unlike you, I can't exactly afford to take time off. You can skip a day of work here and there because you've got hundreds of employees to keep the work going. Nopony's gonna pay my bills but me."
"Then why are you arguing about this?! It sounds like you wouldn't even accept an invitation if I offered it!"
"That's not the point, Mango! We can talk on the phone, text each other. All you had to do is text me, 'Hey, is Spellmet a stupid name?' and we might not be having this argument."
Career turned away with a grimace, a hint of remorse on his face. "I... suppose I could have made more of an effort. But you have to understand that I'm very stressed out currently and these sorts of discussions aren't helping."
"It sounds like you both need to cool your heads," Limbo butted in as she casually munched on vegetables.
"What are you, a psychiatrist?" Leaf grumbled. "This isn't a family therapy session."
"She has a point, though," Samba added. "You're both here to help other people, so can't you try to put your squabbling aside for now?"
"That would probably be for the best," Career agreed, noting all the awkwardness hanging in the air. If even a bunch of homeless folks looked too uncomfortable to enjoy their food, then that was probably a sign that they should tone it down a smidge. "I think we need more potatoes. I'll run down to the cellar and grab some."
Leaf quickly held out a hoof to stop him. "I'll take care of it. Serving soup is probably less taxing than lugging around a sack of potatoes. Not to sound condescending, but I'm just trying to lighten your load a little," he said remorsefully.
Career sighed. "I appreciate that."
Limbo and Samba watched as Leaf entered a door in the kitchen leading to a stairwell, presumably down into the aforementioned cellar.
"I feel like we may have overstayed our welcome," Samba stated with a sympathetic frown.
"I'd understand if you want to leave. I suppose I did end up wasting your time by looking suspicious."
"Hey, I ain't complainin'," said Limbo with a mouthful of food. "This is tasty stuff. So you guys provide all the food here yourself, or is this, like, one of those non-profit organization type dealies?"
"It's really just Leaf and I. He spends more time here than I do, especially since I've got a business to run and he's a better cook than I've ever been anyway. Leaf handles the actually ordering and receiving of the shipments, but we arranged it to come out of my own pocket." Career breathed a somewhat weary sigh. "It's been getting more and more expensive though. Not that it's threatening my bank account or anything, but I'm starting to feel like—with how strained our relationship has become—he might be gouging me out of spite."
"All the more reason to try and talk this whole thing out, right?" Samba suggested with sympathy. "But I guess that's not really our business. We should probably go, Limbo," she urged her.
Limbo grumbled as she continued to munch. "At least let me finish this bowl."
***** ***** *****
As long of a trek as it was, Limbo and Samba decided to walk the distance back to Limbo's apartment. It was a nice enough day, and they had nothing else to do for the time being. But despite the comparatively little progress they'd made today, Limbo still had a smile on her face as they casually sauntered down the sidewalk.
"I think this has been a pretty good day overall," Limbo commented with a satisfied grin.
Samba grimaced in response. "That's easy for you to say. You've been getting free food all day while I've had to accept my newly-budding acrophobia."
"Hey, Leaf offered you a bowl of stew and you turned it down. That's your fault." Limbo held a hoof to her stomach with a puff. "That stew was pretty heavy though. Might take my decrepit stomach a while to process it."
"Poor baby," Samba deadpanned sarcastically.
"Look, maybe you should've just taken a bowl. I know I promised to treat you to supper today, but I need to pay Career for a new pair of glasses. And knowing those rich business types, I bet those specs cost a small fortune just to replace a lens. I might have to set up a payment plan with him to pay it off," she groaned. "Seriously, they're super thin. Why would they be so expensive?"
"You don't know how expensive they are. You're just making assumptions."
"What, you think Career skimps when it comes to his eyesight? You saw his office. He tinkers with all the little bits and pieces of spellphones and junk."
Samba rubbed her neck with an embarrassed blush. "Uh, well, I barely noticed what was in his office. My eyes were kinda locked onto the window against my own will."
"You gonna be okay hanging at my place?"
Samba grimaced crookedly. "Only if you don't phrase it like that."
Limbo waved off any nervousness she felt. "Just stay away from the window. You'll never know you're on the fifth floor."
"You're not helping," Samba grumbled.
"Relax, would ya? We're gonna be too preoccupied to think about it anyway since we'll be neck deep in those files from town hall."
"Well, I don't know how much help I'm gonna be with that. I soon have to head home and get ready for work at The Brewery." She tugged at a small twig that was still tangled in her mane. "I might need more time than usual to fix this."
"True. Truth be told, I might not even be able to do much with them either. If the jittering I've been feeling inside my skull is any indication, Webber's gonna be too distracting for me to focus."
"That's what you get for feeding a spider soda," Samba scolded.
"I don't need you getting on my case about it, 'Mom.' It's bad enough that I've had to endure this since. Do you know how weird it feels to have the eight little legs of a caffeine-fueled arachnid skittering around on your brain?"
Samba shuddered. "I'd rather think about being back on the eightieth floor of Mango Inc. No offence to Webber."
Limbo twitched suddenly. "Eugh. Well, it feels like he took offence. Like a frickin' spellphone set to vibrate in there. And the caller ain't hanging up until I answer. Apologize, please, before my vision starts to blur."
"Uh, sorry, Webber. If, uh... If I ever end up like Limbo, you can, um... totally crawl on my brain. Ugh..." Samba blanched at the thought of it, even though it was an empty promise.
Limbo turned her eye up, pursing her lips as she waited. "Alright, that seems to have calmed him down. You know, you're pretty good with him. You're, like, a spider whisperer."
"You, uh... don't have to call me that. Ever," she told her with mild disgust, knowing that Webber couldn't see her. At this point she was eager to change the subject. "So, uh... What are we hoping to learn from the citizen records anyway?"
"Anything, really. One of the changelings working for Mango Inc. is the Ghost, we know that. Performing a cursory background check could help us narrow down our list of suspects, though I'm probably gonna want to interrogate all of them anyway, just in case."
"Kinda sucks that tailing Career lead nowhere," Samba said with a sigh. "So much for that pattern you were hoping for, huh?"
"He's not out of the hot water yet," Limbo replied sternly. "It might be a kind gesture to help those poor people out, but he was still blatantly ignoring the task at hoof, even immediately after our discussion about it. So I still think we need to keep our eyes on—"
Limbo thought was cut off by the loud sound of sirens coming from behind them. The two mares stopped, watching as a series red and white carriages belonging to the Baltimare Fire Department sped by, being towed by stallions in fire retardant uniforms. The carriages turned the corner at the end of the block, disappearing from sight.
"Wonder where they're headed," Limbo pondered.
"To a fire probably."
"Yeah, no dur, smart alleck."
"Wanna check it out?" Samba asked with curiosity.
Limbo chuckled, looking a little surprised. "Never took you for one who liked to watch the world burn. Well, sure, whatever. It's on the way to my place, so why not?"
They quickened their pace only a little to see if they could catch a glimpse of where the carriages were going. If they happened to go past Limbo's building, then they probably wouldn't bother trying to chase them down. As they rounded the next few street corners, Limbo and Samba started to notice the plumes of smoke rising up above the buildings. The fire was pretty close by apparently, and not far from Limbo's place it would seem. But as they reached the final corner, Limbo and Samba were slowed down by a large crowd of creatures who had already gathered there.
And then the horrifying truth was made apparent.
The carriages were parked outside Limbo's building, the firefighters valiantly attempting to douse the blaze with their fire hoses. A portion of the building was engulfed in flames, but instead of a fiery orange, the building was spewing vibrant, otherworldly flames of red and blue. Several apartments on one floor seemed to be where the fire was centralized. And as it so happened, that was the fifth floor.
Samba looked on in terror. "I-Isn't that your apartment, Limbo?"
Limbo just stared, slack-jawed and stunned with disbelief. "M-My apartment! My leads!" She fell to her knees as the realization hit her. "My mug collection!"
On a typical morning, Samba would expect to be awoken by the blinding rays of the sun assaulting her face, the light sneaking in through the small portion of the window that the curtains were too short to cover. However, today was not one of those days. While there was still some semblance of sunlight visible outside, the sky was mostly overcast. Instead of the cooing of greedy pigeons, Samba heard the pitter-patter of raindrops against the glass. It was a light rain, only barely worth taking an umbrella, so there was a peacefulness to the sound of falling rain without howling winds to accompany it.
That being said, Samba was not at peace.
The sleepy dancer pried her eyelids open to check the clock. Nine a.m. A little earlier than she'd usually get up, but she had stuff she needed to do, so it was just as well. She hadn't gotten much sleep at all since getting home from work, but if she couldn't fall asleep by now, there was no point in burning daylight. Hopefully she'd be tired enough by the end of the day to conk out the moment her head hits the pillow tonight.
Samba tottered her way to the bathroom, washing her face, combing her mane, and brushing her teeth. She could see how sunken and dark her eyes were. She was going to need a hefty helping of makeup to hide those bags when she got ready for work tonight. After her morning maintenance, she made her way out toward the living room, aiming for the kitchen to prepare something for breakfast. However, she paused.
Laying in the middle of her living room floor, sprawled out on her back with her tongue hanging out like roadkill, was a forest green mare with a kitchen knife lodged in her chest.
Any normal person would freak out at such as sight, but at this point, Samba was starting to become a little desensitized to such things. So, she simply grimaced with annoyance. "I use that knife for food, Limbo."
"Can't talk. Dead," the corpse muttered.
"That's never stopped you before," Samba deadpanned.
"I'm in shambles, Samba," Limbo whined, making no effort to get up or remove the knife from her ribs. "Everything I've been working toward, up in smoke before my eye. You don't know what it's like."
"My divorce papers beg to differ, but I guess this is a little different."
Samba definitely felt sorry for her. It was hard not to pity to the mare laying in the middle of the floor like her life—or rather, undeath—was flipped upside-down. It was a shock to say the least to find Limbo's apartment up in flames when they returned from their investigation the previous evening. Limbo was in such a despondent state that Samba practically had to drag Limbo to her apartment for the night while she herself still had to go to work at the pub. It was hard to put her all into performing last night with Limbo's plight on her mind, but it wasn't like she ever put her all into it anyway.
They hadn't had any time to talk about it either. Limbo was too distraught immediately after it happened to properly form a coherent sentence, and by the time Samba got home from work at two in the morning, Limbo was curled up on her couch with her back to the wall. Samba hadn't been able to tell if she was actually asleep or not, but she got the impression that Limbo was too depressed to talk about it, so she figured she'd give her the night to come to terms with it. Apparently that hadn't done any good, if the knife piercing her lifeless heart was any indication, but at least her theatrics gave Samba a little hope, as annoyed as she was about her kitchen knife being sullied.
"Why did this have to happen?" Limbo moaned. "We were soooo close, and now all my leads are gone..."
"I thought you had all that stuff memorized by now," said Samba. "I figured you'd be more upset over being homeless now."
Limbo finally propped herself up onto her haunches with surprising enthusiasm. "Oh, hey, on the bright side, I have a legitimate reason to beg for food at Leaf and Career's soup kitchen now."
"Is that something to be excited about? You don't need food, but you still need a home."
The wind dropped from Limbo's sails. "I was just grasping for a silver lining... Let me hold onto any semblance of happiness I can get."
Samba did feel bad for her, but it was hard not to be a little frustrated when she sounded like a whiny child. Still, she wasn't about to give any crap to a person who just lost her home. "You want something to eat?" Samba asked courteously, heading for the kitchen.
"No..." she moaned listlessly.
"Well, I'm making a sandwich. If you change your mind, let me know." Samba opened a drawer to grab a knife, but suddenly found one being held beside her. She grimaced as Limbo held the slightly blood-stained knife out to her, the wound it left in her chest healing over. Samba pushed her hoof away. "No offence, but I'm throwing that knife away."
Limbo shrugged, leaving the knife on the coffee table as she slumped back onto the couch.
Samba just watched as her friend sighed quietly. "Do you at least want something to drink? I... don't have any coffee around, though. I'm making some tea for myself, so just let me know if there's anything—"
"Whatever. Tea's fine..."
Samba blinked, unsure if she heard that correctly. She cautiously walked over to the living room like Limbo had just lost a family member. "Oh, gosh, this must have been even harder for you than I thought. Are you gonna be okay, Limbo?" she asked with utmost seriousness and concern.
Limbo sat limply on the couch, letting herself sink into the cushions. "My whole livelihood is gone, just like that. It's not enough I lose my best friend, but now my home, my leads, all my worldly possessions. Everything, up in literal flames."
"Well, at least you still have Webber."
Limbo's eye widened a little. "Oh, geez, you're right. If I had left him home yesterday, Webber would've been a little pile of ashes now. Safe to say I'm never leaving him home alone again." She slumped further into the couch, practically about to slide off and onto the floor. "You know, if I ever have a home again..."
"How long were you living there anyway?"
"Since I left the force, so about three years. Had to move into a cheaper place since my pay isn't as consistent as it was when I was a cop."
"Oh. Based on your reaction, I thought it'd've been longer."
"Yeah, well, let's see how you react when you're forced out onto the street against your will," she grumbled grouchily at her. "I doubt Rhapsody kicked you to the curb immediately after the divorce and said, 'Good luck, babe.'"
Samba's ears drooped a little. "I guess my divorce wasn't nearly as sudden as this."
Limbo sighed, casting a one-eyed puppy dog look up at Samba. "Uh, hey, since I haven't actually had a chance to say it yet, thanks for putting me and Webber up. I'm lucky to have a friend like you, Samba."
She smiled affably back at her. "It's no problem."
"You sure? The landlord's not gonna be mad you're letting me stay here, are they?"
Samba scoffed with a smirk. "I've only ever met the landlord once when I first moved in. Everypony here just leaves their rent money at the reception desk. Otherwise, management is pretty lax around here. I doubt anypony'll even notice you're here."
"Well, that's good. They'd probably call an exterminator if they saw Webber crawling around in here."
Samba pursed her lips. "Speaking of which, where is Webber anyway?"
Limbo just lazily pointed a hoof behind Samba.
Samba turned around, spotting the spider perched in a web in the corner of the apartment near the door. The mare immediately scowled angrily. "Hey! I told you last night, no webs in my apartment! If you're gonna live under my roof, you're gonna follow my rules!"
Webber didn't budge. He just stared back at her defiantly.
He may have had more eyes, but Samba wasn't backing down. "You're just lucky I don't have a broom, mister."
"I think you'll be lucky if you don't come home tonight to find your bed covered in dead flies," Limbo warned.
"He can't catch flies if he doesn't have webs," Samba threatened with narrowed eyes.
"You underestimate his resourcefulness. And you're not gonna be here all day. Plus, I lost my perfume in the fire too. I'm gonna be a walking garbage dump until I can buy some more."
"You can use some of mine. It might be a little more flowery than what you're used to, but it should get the job done. Just try not to go overboard. I'm not made of money."
"Thanks."
Samba headed toward the door. "Anyway, I'm gonna go grab the mail while I wait for the kettle to boil. I'll make us both some sandwiches when I get back." She passed one more warning glare at Webber before she stepped out.
With her gone, Webber crawled down the wall, across the floor, and onto the coffee table. He stared at the practically gelatinous form of Limbo as she lay slumped on the couch, but she didn't look back. Limbo was too busy staring listlessly up at the ceiling of the unremarkable apartment.
Limbo had only seen Samba's apartment once the day after they first met. She'd been a little too preoccupied by something else last night to really take in her new surroundings properly, and even now it was hard to focus on anything else. She laboriously tilted her head down to look around the living room. She remembered all those cardboard boxes from her first visit. They were laid around rather haphazardly, like they hadn't been budged since Samba first brought them into the apartment.
A sense of morbid curiosity came over Limbo. She could infer that it was all stuff she owned when she was still married, but Limbo wondered why she hadn't bothered to unpack anything yet. She lazily slid off the couch, walking over to one of the boxes. Maybe it was rude to pry into Samba's private possessions, especially after she so graciously opened up her home to her, but Limbo already felt like she couldn't sink any lower, so she didn't let her morality stand in the way.
Limbo lifted the flaps on the box. Inside appeared to be nothing but clothes. However, none of it seemed casual. It was all fancy dresses. The one on top was a long, frilly, purple dress. Limbo lifted the dress up to get a better look at it. A white, plastic corsage was pinned on the chest. If Limbo had to take a guess, she'd probably say this was Samba's prom dress. She had said that she and Rhapsody had been together since high school. The two probably danced together while Samba wore this dress.
Limbo glanced back down into the box. Underneath the prom dress was a brilliantly white gown with ornate flower patterns. It didn't take much guesswork to figure out that this was Samba's wedding dress.
"You make a habit of poking through other people's things?"
Limbo jumped with a start dropping the dress back into the box. Samba had returned and was looking at her rather judgmentally. Limbo grinned awkwardly in an attempt to save face. "Uh, well, I am a detective. It's kinda my job to snoop, yeah? And you are technically a client, so anything I can learn about you is..." She trailed off when she saw the bemused stare Samba was throwing her way. Limbo's ears flattened apologetically. "Sorry."
Samba simply shook her head dismissively as she brought the mail into the kitchen, placing it all on the dining table. "It's fine."
Limbo once again looked around at all the boxes. Now that they were on the topic anyway, she may as well inquire. "So how come you haven't unpacked any of this stuff yet?"
Samba sighed. "Because there's no point. It's all just reminders of a time when I was a happier, albeit more shallow and selfish person. Rhapsody made me take all this stuff with me because he probably couldn't stand to see it around his apartment anymore."
Limbo poked her nose into another box. It was full of random knickknacks with no purpose other than to be decorative. Given everything Samba had told her about her past, it would seem she used to be a lot less conservative with her money—or rather, Rhapsody's money; she recalled Samba telling her that she didn't really work after she got married. Limbo had never pegged Samba as a gold digger, but rummaging through this stuff was starting to paint a picture.
"You ever think about selling some of this stuff, then?" Limbo suggested. "There's a butt load of trinkets in here. You might be able to make a pretty penny."
"It might be hard to look at them, but some of that stuff does have sentimental value." Samba slowly stirred her tea, staring vacantly into the milky liquid. "Or maybe I'm just trying to justify my unwillingness to change..."
Limbo rolled her eye, plopping herself back down on the couch. "Don't start with this again. Not that I don't have some sympathy for your situation, but I think some of us have more immediate problems."
Samba didn't argue with her. Limbo was right; she shouldn't be forcing her personal issues onto other people. That would only serve to prove that she was the person she didn't want to be.
Trying to take her mind off of it, Samba fixed herself a cucumber and daisy sandwich. She made a second and delivered it to Limbo. The zombie stared at the sandwich for a moment, but reluctantly took it, listlessly taking a bite.
"Fanks," Limbo said halfheartedly, spewing breadcrumbs onto her own chest.
Samba sat down at the dining table to eat her own breakfast. She glanced over the mail she'd brought up, her eyes lingering on today's newspaper. The pages had come apart when she haphazardly tossed the mail onto the table, and an article on one of the pages caught her eye; mostly because the accompanying photograph portrayed a familiar sight.
"Hey, the paper's got an article about the fire," Samba mentioned, looking at the colorless photo of the apartment building in flames.
"Big whoop," Limbo moaned. "What, you wanna pour salt in my wounds?"
Samba ignored her attitude and skimmed the article. While the article didn't seem to offer any insight into what caused the fire, the description of the incident piqued Samba's interest. "Huh, I never thought about that until now."
Limbo tilted her head just a little in Samba's direction. "Thought about what? The fact that everything I own is sitting in a pile of ashes right now? Because I've been thinking about that the whole time."
"Do you remember what it looked like?" Samba asked her.
"Devastating? Soul-wrenching? Spirit crushing? You looking for something specific?"
"Less... psychological. I meant actual physical appearance."
Limbo shrugged. "Sorry, but every time I replay it in my head, there's a sepia tone filter over it like a dramatic flashback in a movie."
"The fire was blue and red," Samba explained.
Limbo scrunched up her muzzle in thought. "Hmm... Now that you mention it, that does spark my memory." She groaned at herself. "Ugh. Why'd I word it like that?"
Samba stood up from the table, bringing the newspaper over to Limbo. "Do you know what this means?"
"Can't say that I do. Why?"
"It had to be nirik fire that burned down your apartment."
Limbo quirked an eyebrow. "Nirik fire? Like, from a kirin?"
"Yes. That's what color nirik fire is. Were any of your neighbors kirin?"
"I don't think so. I mean, I never really interacted with my neighbors, but I don't recall ever seeing any kirin around the building."
"So what are the chances that this was a freak accident?" Samba posited with increasing vigor.
"You think this was arson?" Limbo inferred.
"I don't think it was just a random arsonist. It was probably the Ghost!" Samba exclaimed. "Think about it. The Ghost has the Spellmet. The Ghost has Sizzle Conifer. The Spellmet can copy kirin magic. It adds up."
Limbo didn't appear impressed by Samba's deduction. "So? How does that help us? We could easily assume all of that before now."
Samba deflated just a little at the counterpoint. "Um, I guess it means the Ghost knew where you lived."
"That's not exactly a secret. I have to advertise my business if I hope to get clients," Limbo explained, snatching the newspaper and showing her an ad for her detective agency in the classifieds, complete with street address and apartment number. "It's one of the few expenses I have since I don't have to waste money on things like food."
"Well... Uh, we know that the Ghost doesn't know how to kill a zombie. Maybe now that they have access to nirik fire, they wanted to try burning you. Would that have worked?"
Limbo shrugged. "Eventually, I'm sure. Bear in mind, I'm not going around testing the limits of my regeneration. But if I were set on fire for long enough, it might do enough damage to kill my brain before the spell can fix it. I know there are some zombie flicks where incinerating the corpses worked, but that's still fiction. Again, I ask you: how does this help us?"
Samba knit her brow slightly. "I'm just trying to do what I can to get you out of this funk. I figured evidence of the Ghost's involvement might light a fire under your—uh, I mean, motivate you."
Limbo just flicked a hoof dismissively as she took another emotionless bite of her sandwich. "I appreciate the attempt, but can you just leave me alone? I'm wallowing here."
As Samba watched Limbo devolve further into self-pity, she found her own face contorting into an aggravated grimace. And without thinking she snapped at her. "The hay is wrong with you?!"
Limbo flinched at Samba's sudden outburst. "Why are you yelling? You know what's wrong. I just lost my home."
"So?"
Limbo frowned at her apparent disposal of any sympathy she had. "Geez, nice bedside manner you got there," she grumbled sarcastically.
"This isn't you, Limbo. Maybe I've only known you for a short time, but I've never seen you like this. I've never seen you so down on yourself. Even in the face of potentially harrowing situations, you always charge straight in regardless of the danger. You see everything as an opportunity and latch onto it because you've got the gumption to see things through to the end. What you're doing right now, drowning yourself in your own pity, is not something the Limbo I know would do. It's something I would do. I insisted on helping you with your investigations because I wanted to better myself. You're not just my friend, you're my role model."
Limbo blinked, staying silent.
"I have so much respect for you and what you do because you do it without question or hesitation. You do it because you care about other people more than you care about yourself. But now it's just all about you! All you're doing is whining and complaining! 'Oh, poor me, my home burned down, guess I'll die. Again.'"
"Why don't we burn your place down, see how you feel?" Limbo muttered quietly under the verbal lashing.
"Look, I know you're upset, I understand that, but it's not like this has actually set back the investigation, right? You know all that stuff you had pinned up, don't you?"
"It did set us back. Leaf delivered the citizen records to my place yesterday, remember? So those are gone now too. Now I've got to try and explain that to Bubble Gust and the Mayor and get another talking-to."
"But the point I'm trying to make is that Limbo—the real Limbo—wouldn't sit around on her butt feeling sorry for herself. I figured she'd use loss as motivation. Isn't that what you did when Poe was kidnapped? I wasn't around when that happened, but based on what I know about you, I feel like you're taking this harder than when you lost your best friend. If anything, by burning your place down, this whole feud with the Ghost is only becoming more and more personal. You've got more reason than ever to bring them to justice. And the fact that they're actively trying to kill you now must mean we're close, right? We're backing them into a corner, so they're forced to try and bite back. Doesn't that mean anything?"
Limbo let out a long breath through her nostrils. "All it means is that you're in danger now too. If the Ghost is that desperate to take me out, what's stopping them from going after you to get to me?"
"You think I don't know that?"
Limbo cocked a puzzled eyebrow at her. "You do? Then... why'd you bring me back to your place knowing you'd be putting yourself in harm's way?"
"Because you're my friend!"
Limbo just stared at the authoritative expression on Samba's face. She felt very much like a child being scolded by her mother, which contradicted pretty much everything Samba has said about herself in the past. But before she had a chance to say anything about it, Samba headed for the door, grabbing her saddlebags and an umbrella on the way.
In contrast to the past few minutes, Samba glanced back with soft compassion. "Maybe you just need some time to process this. Admittedly, I don't know what your grieving process is, so I'll just give you some space and come back later. Sorry for yelling at you. I'll pick up some coffee on the way home." And that was all she said before she left the apartment, leaving Limbo alone with Webber.
Limbo just sat back quietly, staring at the half eaten sandwich in her grasp. If she could still have an appetite, she'd have lost it by now.
***** ***** *****
The longer the morning went on, the milder the rain became. When Samba had left her apartment, Baltimare was experiencing a light drizzle, but the local weather pegasi were now in the process of clearing the skies, creating gaps in the cloud cover that allowed the morning sun's rays to shine through. It eventually reached a point, where Samba didn't really even need her umbrella anymore, so she stuck the handle into her saddlebag as best she could.
Samba didn't really have a destination in mind. This walk about town was more so to allow herself to decompress while letting Limbo come to terms with her situation. She did feel bad. She kind of laid into her pretty harshly. Limbo had just lost her home, and, as usual, all Samba could think about was herself. Samba chose to help her to improve her own attitude, so now that Limbo wasn't being herself, she got upset with her. Some friend she was...
She should just go back and apologize. All she was doing by chewing her out was making a bad situation worse. How was Limbo supposed to get over this if Samba was just piling on?
Samba made to turn around, but paused. She did promise to bring home some coffee for Limbo. It might make for a good peace offering after the way she'd behaved. Unfortunately, she didn't own a coffee maker, and she knew Limbo was pretty picky about her coffee. Although, Limbo only drank black coffee, so all she had to do was order a black coffee at a restaurant. Black was black, right? Surely Limbo wouldn't be able to tell the difference.
So, first of all, she had to figure out where she'd ended up during her aimless wandering. She had been heading uptown, whether consciously or not, and it looked like she'd reached Canter Waterfront Park. Samba knew there was a quaint little café nearby, but she happened to spot a donut shop called Do-Boy's first. Nothing went together with coffee like donuts—she assumed—so maybe Samba could literally sweeten the deal while she was at it.
Samba sauntered over to the donut shop, but the moment she approached the door, she spotted none other than Loose Leaf through the glass on his way out with a cup of coffee—iced coffee, if Samba had to guess. He appeared to be lost in thought and didn't notice her until he stepped outside and stopped right in front of her amicable smile.
"Oh, hey, Samba," Leaf greeted, looking a little surprised to see her.
"Morning, Leaf. Fancy running into you here. On your way to work?" Samba presumed.
Leaf shook his head. "Nope. Got the day off today. Probably for the best. Things are getting more and more heated at town hall the closer we get to the election. Gust might be a little... uh, what's a good word for it?"
"Cloying?"
Leaf shrugged. "Sure. But she can be scary when she's serious. And I also don't have any desire to listen to the mayor's whining. I've been contemplating just taking a vacation until the whole thing blows over."
The exasperated sigh that escaped Leaf's lungs didn't go unnoticed by Samba. With having to put up with those two on top of his strained relationship with his brother, Leaf was no doubt pretty stressed. Samba wanted to apologize to Limbo, but maybe Leaf could use an ear as well.
"You busy, then?" Samba asked hopefully.
Leaf stared at her for a moment, her friendly grin rather disarming. "Uh, well, I was probably gonna head down to the soup kitchen for a while, but the rest of my day is gonna be spent at home ruining my eyes by staring at computer screens," he chuckled.
Samba was a little disappointed, but continued smiling. "Oh, well, I guess you don't want to keep those poor people waiting, huh?"
Leaf thought it over for a moment. He seemed conflicted by the choice, but he eventually smiled back. "Eh, they don't know I'm coming this early anyway. I can spare a few minutes."
He gestured politely toward the park, guiding Samba across the grassy meadow and to a bench. Leaf removed the apron he would wear at the soup kitchen from his saddlebags to wipe the rain water off of the bench for them to sit down.
"You know, I don't think the two of us have ever had the chance to talk without Limbo around," Samba mentioned.
"Guess not. And I want to clarify that I didn't agree to this in order to flirt or anything. I know you're going through your own stuff with the divorce and everything."
"It's fine. I don't mind just talking. But I probably shouldn't take too long. I need to get back to talk to Limbo too."
"What's she up to anyway? Oh, let me guess. You're acting as her gopher and picking up some coffee so the two of you can engross yourselves in those citizen records. How close is that?"
"Um, well, first of all, I think Limbo prefers to make her own coffee. I was just gonna pick up a cup for her and some donuts as an apology."
"Apology? What, you guys have a fight or something?"
"Kinda..." Samba admitted sheepishly. "I got a little upset with her earlier and went for a walk to cool myself off. And I feel really bad now. I shouldn't be getting on her case after what happened."
Leaf quirked an inquisitive eyebrow. "Why? What happened?"
Samba was slightly surprised by the confusion on his face. "You haven't heard? Have you not read the newspaper today?"
"I don't really keep up with the news, if I'm being honest."
"There was a fire at Limbo's building yesterday. Her apartment and a few others were caught in it."
"What?! That's crazy!" he exclaimed incredulously. "Is she okay?"
"She's fine. Uh, physically anyway. The place was on fire before we made it back there. As far as I know, everpony in the building was fine and evacuated safely. But Limbo's apartment was completely incinerated. She's staying at my place until she can find another place to live. But she's been completely despondent since it happened, which is... kinda why I got upset with her."
Leaf grimaced. "A person being depressed about losing their home doesn't seem like a good reason to be upset with them, but I feel like I'm missing some context."
Samba idly twirled her wavy mane with her hoof, sighing remorsefully. "It's... complicated. Mostly personal stuff, me being selfish. That's why I want to apologize."
Leaf frowned sympathetically. "I guess that means the files I delivered to her place are gone, huh? I am not looking forward to telling Gust about that. I mean, she can't blame me for a freak accident, but with all the frustration that she's building up dealing with Highstrung, she's on the verge of turning into a tiny little fireball of fury. I just don't want to be the one to push her over the edge, you know?"
"Actually, I don't think the fire was an accident."
Leaf stared at her in surprise. "You don't?"
Samba glanced around, making sure there weren't any people near enough to hear her. "I think the Ghost was trying to kill her," she told him in a hushed tone.
Leaf quirked an eyebrow. "Is this a paranoia thing, or do you have any evidence of foul play?"
She hesitated a little. "Uh, maybe I shouldn't be sharing this information with a civilian."
"What, you don't trust me?" he chuckled with a joking smirk.
"No, of course I do," she backpedaled apologetically. "I just don't think it's my place to be revealing that info. Limbo's the professional, not me."
"Fair enough."
Samba glanced at Leaf as he sipped his iced coffee. The topic of Limbo reminded her of something. "Hey, you never got a chance to answer my question yesterday."
"Hm? What question?"
"How close you and Limbo are."
"Oh, that. 'Close' maybe isn't the right word. We're acquaintances at best, I'd say. We really only see or talk to one another when she stops by town hall. With the expo and yesterday at the soup kitchen, I've probably seen her more over the past week than the rest of the times I've seen her combined," he laughed.
"Yeah, but you two still seem pretty chummy with one another. Or should we chalk that up to Limbo's charisma?"
"That could be part of it. Limbo's pretty easy to talk to. I definitely enjoy her company, especially since the only other people I get to talk to at work are Bubble Gust and Mayor Highstrung. And I think I've made my feelings about them abundantly clear. Not that I don't like them, but they can be a bit much sometimes."
"You certainly come off as a bit more laid back compared to Limbo, though, if you don't mind my saying," Samba commented.
"I could say the same about you," he said with a smirk. "Yet somehow you two wound up working together."
Samba broke eye contact, looking away awkwardly. "W-Well, that's a whole thing. Long story. Kinda complicated."
"Everything's 'complicated' with you, huh?" Leaf chuckled. "Meeting Limbo couldn't have been that bizarre."
Samba lolled her head back and forth. "Weeell, more bizarre than you're probably thinking. But one of the reasons I'm helping her is because I owe her my life. She saved me from a stalker who was trying to attack me on my way home from work one night."
"Yikes. That must've been pretty scary," Leaf remarked sympathetically.
Samba couldn't help but grin in mild amusement. "Funny thing is, that wasn't even the weirdest thing to happen that night, but, uh... that's neither here nor there."
Leaf stared at her curiously. "So, who was this stalker? Somepony you know?"
Samba shook her head. "No. All I know is that he's a regular at the pub I work at, The Brewery. Unfortunately, Limbo didn't manage to catch him that night, but she promised to get him someday to make up for it."
"Sounds like a Limbo promise. That mare was never one to let something go unfinished," Leaf said admiringly.
"You sound like you have a lot of respect for her, even though you claim you don't know her that well."
"Again, I could say the same for you, but I guess she never saved my life. It's not hard to get a bead on her personality, though. She's pretty open, all things considered. Kind of a chatterbox, and pretty blunt occasionally. I can see somepony saying that she can come off as rude and inconsiderate, but, personally, I find her wit somewhat... challenging," he said with a playful smirk. "It's fun to trade barbs with her when you know she's not being serious."
"But she can get pretty serious when she needs to be. She goes in hard whenever the Ghost is involved with anything."
"Can't say I blame her though. The Ghost did kidnap her best friend."
"You know Poe?" Samba asked curiously.
"Nope. Never met her. Heard a bit about her from Limbo, but that's it. Must've had some talent to be targeted by the Ghost, though."
"Well, that could've been to threaten Limbo too, right?"
Leaf raised an eyebrow. "To threaten her? Hmm, I guess so. That makes sense too, I suppose."
"I figured that'd be everypony's first thought," said Samba, though she obviously knew Leaf was right the first time, but couldn't outright tell him that. "But if it really was because she knows some special magic, I guess I don't have much to worry about, even though I'm in the same position she was," she laughed, though followed it with a somber sigh.
Leaf frowned empathetically. "Oh, yeah. You never got your chance to use the Spellmet at the expo, huh? But why not just go ask Mango if you can try out one of the other prototypes? They have plenty of them apparently," he suggested, though added a quiet grumble at the end.
Samba shook her head dismissively, but managed a weak smile. "It's fine. I mean, what's the point, right? Even if it does work with me like it did for you, that doesn't mean I'll suddenly know how to cast spells. I wanted my magic to help Pira, but her entrance exam for Celestia's school is probably coming up pretty soon. There's not really enough time for me to learn anything special, let alone teach my daughter anything. And if she passes, she's going to be moving to Canterlot, so I'll see even less of her than I do now."
"You're really okay with not being able to use magic?" Leaf asked.
Samba observed the surprising amount of concern on his face, but shrugged. "I've gone this long without it. It'd be convenient, sure, but I've managed pretty well so far."
"Did you never have people making fun of you growing up because you were a unicorn who couldn't use magic?" Leaf inquired, his brow knit slightly to imply is own personal experiences.
"Well, sure, there were bullies in school that teased me, but I also had Rhapsody to look after me," she answered fondly. "Oh, Rhapsody's my ex, in case I never mentioned him before."
"Sounds like you were one of the lucky ones, then," he mumbled. "I didn't have the luxury of having somepony to stand up for me. Mango is several years older than me, so he was already graduated by the time I made it to high school. You might not guess by looking at me, but I also had a pretty hot temper as a kid, and bullies only served to exacerbate it. I guess since I didn't have anypony in my corner, I had to take matters into my own hooves. Got into a few fights over a couple of passing comments. I like to think I've gotten better about it since reaching adulthood, especially since I can use magic now, but some stuff still manages to get under my skin."
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Samba uttered softly and compassionately. She lowered her gaze to the ground with a forlorn sigh. "I knew I was taking my relationship with Rhapsody for granted, but I guess I never realized just how much."
"Has he been helping your daughter learn magic?" asked Leaf, partly as a way to change the subject for both their sakes.
"As much as he can. For all the things that make Rhapsody amazing, I guess his magic is nothing to write home about. Pira's the one who got all the talent."
"You mentioned her magic was pretty powerful for her age. How powerful we talking here, out of curiosity?"
"Rhapsody had an expert do an analysis recently. Her magic is apparently on par with the average adult, maybe even a little above average. She's not on Princess Twilight's level, or even Luster Dawn's, but it's still impressive," Samba told him with a proud smile.
"You think power alone is enough to get her into Celestia's school?"
Samba just smiled confidently. "Pira's a quick learner. She's been studying hard like a good girl. I was talking to her on the phone over the weekend, and she was super excited because she cast a projection spell for the first time, creating a little magical image of a butterfly in the air."
Samba pulled out her spellphone to show Leaf a picture that Rhapsody took of Pirouette with a dark blue, ethereal butterfly tethered to her horn, a big, toothy grin on the filly's face.
"That's pretty cool," Leaf commented.
"Yeah, and our monthly weekend together is coming up, so I'm looking forward to spending time with Pira. I want to see what other stuff she's learned."
"I'll admit that I don't know many spells myself. I only got over my funnel horn a few years ago, so levitation is pretty much the extent of my repertoire." He punctuated that by using his silver aura to lift his iced coffee to his lips for a sip. "I've been trying to teach myself some stuff, but a lot of spells are more complicated to cast than they look. I guess it's true that you can't teach an old dog new tricks."
Samba stared at him, a morbid curiosity building within her. "Um..."
Leaf quirked an eyebrow at the sheepish look on her face. "What?"
"I know I asked this at the expo, but... what was it like to get your magic back? You said it was a rush, right?"
Leaf smiled. "Oh, yeah, absolutely. I compared it to getting over a cold, but the more I think about it, the more that sounds like a gross understatement. Athletes sometimes talk about a 'runner's high.' I'd imagine it's something like that. Just this surge of adrenaline from the raw energy flowing through you. Seriously, you'll never experience anything like it again. It's... almost a little disappointing." He did nothing to hide his listless sigh.
Samba didn't quite know how to respond to that. Maybe it wasn't worth thinking about. Either she'd get over her funnel horn or she wouldn't, and if it was the former, maybe she'd understand what he was talking about.
The conversation seemed to come to an end at that point, somewhat awkwardly. Samba didn't really know what else to say, so now may have been as good a time as any to wrap things up and head home.
"Excuse me."
Samba and Leaf turned at the sound of the nasally voice addressing them. A changeling mare was standing beside the bench—maybe a little too close. Her chitinous skin was a light purple in color, while the iridescent shell on her back concealing her wings was a much darker purple, both glistening with some leftover moisture from the day's precipitation. Her translucent, membranous mane and tail were a pale green, matching her monotone eyes. She was also carrying a newspaper within her neon green, magical grasp.
Samba pulled back slightly, a little uncomfortable by how closely the changeling was leaning toward her. "Uh, can I help you?" she responded.
The changeling stepped back a little, glancing between Samba and Leaf, both of whom were staring at her rather awkwardly, and her thin ears perked up with sudden realization. "Oh, whoops. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your date."
Samba blushed deeply at her assumption. "Uh, no, no, we're not on a date. We're just friends."
The changeling tilted her head. "You sure? Looks like a date to me."
"Yes. I mean, no, we're not on a date," Samba repeated, becoming more and more flustered.
Leaf simply shrugged. "What difference does it make if she thinks we're a couple? Do you need something, miss...?"
"Oh, I'm Mandible. My friends call me Mandi," she introduced with a cute grin. "Again, sorry if I'm being a tricycle."
Samba and Leaf blinked in confusion at the odd phrase.
Samba tilted her head at her. "Uh... A 'tricycle'? What does that mean?"
Mandible suddenly looked a little self-conscious. "Oh, my bad. I've never been to your kingdom before. I still don't know all of your pony sayings."
Leaf's eyes widened when he pieced it together. "Oooh, I get it. I think she was trying to say she didn't want to be a 'third wheel.'"
"Yeah, that," Mandible confirmed.
"Oh. Well, that's okay. No biggie," Samba told her. "Now, what was it you wanted to ask?"
"Hm?" Mandible suddenly looked confused, as though she'd forgotten what she was doing, but then suddenly straightened up as it came back to her. "Oh, right! I was looking for, uh..." She opened the slightly damp newspaper she was holding, squinting at one of the pages to try and read the smudged ink. "...Detective Limbo."
Samba's ears perked up. "Huh? Really?"
"Yeah. I went to the address in this ad, but the building is apparently the same one from this article that caught on fire yesterday," the changeling explained. "So I've just been asking around to see if anypony knows where I can find her now."
Samba grinned pleasantly. "Well, you're in luck. My name's Samba, and this is Loose Leaf. Limbo's actually a friend of ours. I work for her part-time as her assistant even."
Mandible smiled back with glee. "Really?! Well, talk about petting your luck!"
"What?"
"I think she means it's a 'stroke of luck,'" Leaf corrected.
"Oh." Samba's smile fell as she recalled Limbo's current situation. "Well, anyway, as much as I'd like to introduce you to her, now might not be a good time. She's pretty torn up about her apartment burning down."
"Hrm..." Mandible scrunched up her muzzle, looking conflicted. "But this is an emergency. I need somepony to help me."
"Why not just ask the cops?" Leaf suggested.
"I tried. I met a couple of police officers on the way here and they just combed me down."
Samba blinked, taking a moment to decipher that. "Oh, they 'brushed you off.'"
"Yeah," Mandible grumbled. "Quick question: is going to the spa a normal thing for pony police officers?"
Samba sighed with a grimace. "Based on what I've heard, it is for some."
"So what's your emergency anyway?" Leaf asked out of curiosity.
"Well, see, my brother left the Changeling Kingdom a few months ago. He wanted to see all of the interesting things in Equestria and go looking for shoes."
Samba tilted her head, thoroughly puzzled by her brother's motivations. "He... wants shoes?"
"Shoes..." Leaf pondered for a moment before a light bulb suddenly turned on. "Ah, got it! 'Soul searching.' Phew, that was a toughie. This is kinda fun actually, like solving a crossword puzzle," he chuckled amusedly.
"Yeah, so, anyway, my brother's just been visiting different towns and cities in your kingdom over the past few months," Mandible continued. "He's been texting and calling me almost everyday since he left to share all the stuff he's seen and learned." Her expression suddenly turned worried and sullen. "But a little over a month ago he just... stopped contacting me." She pulled out her spellphone. "The last text I got from him he said he'd just arrived in Baltimare. I tried calling him, but I can't get through. I think something must've happened to his phone, but I know he would just buy a new one if he had to. I'm worried something might've happened to him, and I came all this way to see if anypony could help me. You two wouldn't happen to have seen him, would you? His name's Pedipalp."
"Doesn't ring a bell," said Samba apologetically. "What about you, Leaf?"
Leaf closed his eyes for a moment. "Pedipalp... The name does sound familiar." He pondered for several moments more, knitting his brow tightly as he thought. "Oh, wait, I think a changeling by that name asked me for directions once, but that's as much as I can give you."
"Where was he trying to go?" Mandible asked hopefully.
Leaf shrugged. "He was just asking for restaurant recommendations. I dropped a few names, but can't say I know what place he ended up picking, though."
The changeling sighed in defeat, hanging her head. "Oh... And you're sure Detective Limbo can't help me. It just seems so strange that my brother would just disappear without a trace like that."
Samba blinked. "'Without... a trace'?"
"I don't know why that one confused you, Samba," said Leaf. "She actually got that phrase right."
Samba didn't respond. She just stared, wide-eyed, at Mandible, who was staring back with a quizzical look. Something clicked in Samba's brain, as though the pieces of a puzzle were suddenly piecing themselves together. Without warning, she hopped off the bench, forcing Mandible to take a startled step back.
"Wait, hold on! This is... Maybe this... Your brother, and..."
Leaf stood up, arching an eyebrow at Samba's odd behavior. "Uh, you okay?"
As the thought began to coalesce inside her head, Samba became more and more hysteric. She began trotting eagerly in place. "Th-This could be big! Really huge! We have to go talk to Limbo!"
Mandible drew back, a little cautious of Samba's sudden mood shift. "B-But you said now's not a good time because—"
"No no! This is super ultra omega important! She has to know!"
"Samba, you're acting crazy," Leaf commented. "Just calm down and explain what's happening."
"I-I can't do words good right now! We just gotta go! Limbo needs to hear this! Mandi, follow me! Quick, quick!"
Mandible seemed understandably confused and a little worried, but decided to play along for her brother's sake. "O-Okay..."
"Nice talking to you Leaf but I gotta go bye!" Samba blurted hastily.
Leaf didn't even get a chance to respond before she galloped off with Mandible having to flitter her wings to keep up with her, leaving him more than a little confused.
However, as she and Mandible made it to the edge of the park, Samba suddenly screeched to a halt, her eyes locking onto the donut shop across the street and remembering something. She suddenly blushed, her hysteria dying down for a moment. "Oh, uh, actually I need to make a quick stop first," she said, pointing to the donut shop. "You want something while I'm at it?"
Mandible was a little frazzled, but answered, "Uh, do they have morphoberry smoothies?"
Samba hesitated. "I... don't know what that is, but I'll ask."
***** ***** *****
In rather a hurry and with a cardboard tray with a pair of coffee cups and a box of donuts, Samba lead Mandible to her apartment building, leaving herself a little out of breath as a result. However, as the made it to Samba's second floor apartment, she paused as she placed her hoof on the door handle. There were perhaps a couple of precautions she should take before inviting Mandible into her home. For one, even though changelings were bug-like themselves, it probably wasn't a good idea to bring her in if there happened to be a big spider crawling around inside. But more importantly, Samba did find a corpse with a knife in her chest when she'd gotten up that morning. Given Limbo's recent disposition, she wouldn't have been surprised to find something similar now.
Samba flashed an awkward grin at Mandible. "Uh, wait here for a minute, okay?"
Mandible seemed a little puzzled, but did as she was told, sipping idly on her morphoberry smoothie. She did give Samba an odd look when the unicorn stealthily cracked the door open, peering cautiously inside her own apartment.
Samba didn't immediately see Limbo around, but spotted Webber on the coffee table. She slipped inside, closing the door behind her and leaving Mandible waiting out in the hall. Limbo wasn't in the living room, nor the kitchen. "Limbo? You here?" she called out as she placed the coffee and donuts on the kitchen table.
The sound of plastic clattering could be heard from the bathroom, followed by Limbo's voice. "Uh, yeah. Just... give me a minute, yeah?"
Samba could hear the sound of running water now. Limbo was a zombie and has stated in the past that she couldn't get sick. She knew Limbo was is an emotional state right now, but was it possible for stress to make a zombie sick? Just in case, Samba decided to ask anyway. "You feeling okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine!" she called back defensively. "I just need a minute, like I said."
"Uh, okay. But I brought somecreature who wants to talk to you."
Webber took that as his cue to hide, skittering off underneath the couch.
"Uh, really? Who?"
"A potential client. I think you're gonna want to hear what she has to say."
Limbo's despondent sigh could barely be heard from the bathroom. "I don't know if I'm in any state to be adding to my workload, Samba."
"No, seriously. You one hundred percent need to hear about this," Samba insisted.
"Ugh, fine, whatever."
After a few moments, the running water stopped and Limbo emerged from the bathroom. Samba stared at her, narrowing her eyes slightly. There was a smudge of pink on the zombie's cheek.
"Were you using my makeup?" Samba inferred.
Limbo looked away awkwardly. "Uh, no. What makes you think that?"
"You missed a spot," Samba pointed out bemusedly.
Limbo lifted a hoof to her cheek discovering the smear of pink now on her hoof. She grinned like a foal with her hoof caught in the cookie jar. "Oh. Whoops."
"I said you could use my perfume, not my makeup. Why do you even want to use makeup?"
"I was bored," she answered simply. "It makes you look pretty, so I figured I'd give it a shot. You know, out of curiosity."
Samba grimaced at her phrasing. "Um..."
Limbo, realizing what she'd said, backpedaled quickly. "Uh, n-not that you don't always look pretty, 'cause you do. Just, uh... Okay, how do I fix this?"
"You say, 'sorry,'" Samba deadpanned.
Limbo hung her head. "Right. Sorry..."
Even though she'd suggested it, Samba waved the apology off anyway. "Well, I owe you an apology too for the way I acted earlier. So I brought a peace offering." She gestured to the coffee and donuts on the table.
Limbo stared with scrutiny at the logo on the side of the cup. "Oh, Do-Boy's coffee, huh?" she commented with a slight grimace. She glanced at the rather apologetic look on Samba's face, feeling a little bad suddenly. "Thanks, Samba. That's a sweet gesture." She grabbed the cup, hesitating slightly before taking a sip to appease her friend. "Mmm, that's some good... watered-down coffee. Yum," she remarked patronizingly as the subpar brew dripped down her throat.
Samba sighed. "Sorry, I know you're really picky about coffee, but I was in a hurry to get back."
"No, no, it's fine, really," Limbo told her with a genuinely gratefully smile. "Besides, I haven't had a coffee since yesterday morning. I'll take what I can get at this point." She turned her attention to the box of donuts. "Do-Boy's might have bland coffee, but I know from my days on the force that their donuts are to die for." Limbo grabbed a powdered donut from the box and bit into it, a drop of lemon filling squirting out the other end and onto the table.
Samba grabbed a glazed donut for herself, just happy that Limbo seemed to be at least putting her funk behind her for the time being.
"Sho..." Limbo said, donut crumbs and powdered sugar spraying her mouth. "You shaid you brought shomepony to shee me?"
Samba's ears suddenly perked up. "Oh, shoot! Uh, right, just a sec." She hurried over to the door, quickly glancing over her shoulder to Webber, who was peering out from under the couch. The spider retreated from sight, giving Samba her cue to open the door. "Okay, you can come in."
Limbo watched curiously. She was a little caught off guard to see a changeling enter the apartment, but that also piqued her interest.
"This is Limbo," Samba introduced. "Limbo, this is Mandible, or Mandi."
Both Limbo and Mandible stared at one another in silence, the changeling not making any effort to avert her gaze from the detective's eyepatch. Limbo glanced at the cup she was carrying, deciding to use that as a way of evaluating this stranger.
"You drink your coffee with a straw?" Limbo commented judgmentally.
"It's not coffee, it's a morphoberry smoothie," Mandible corrected.
Limbo cocked an eyebrow. "The hay is that?"
"A smoothie made with morphoberries," the changeling answered plainly.
Limbo rolled her eye. "Well, that clears that up," she muttered sarcastically.
"Apparently morphoberries are native to the Changeling Kingdom," Samba explained. "Mandi was telling me about it on the way here."
"Are they any good?" Limbo asked doubtfully.
"Depends," Mandible answered as she took a sip. "Morphoberries randomly change flavors, and so do the things made using them. My smoothie was sour a minute ago. Now it's sweet."
Limbo pursed her lips interestedly. "Huh, sounds neat. I wonder if a bitter smoothie would taste better than Do-Boy's coffee. Maybe it's a gamble, but it might be worth a try sometime."
"Yeah, yeah, that's all well and good, but we have more important things to talk about," Samba told her impatiently. "Mandi, tell her about your brother."
Mandible nodded. "Uh, sure. So, my brother Pedipalp came to Baltimare a while ago and I haven't heard from him since. I'm worried something might've happened to him."
Limbo frowned, both empathetically and a little dismissively. "Look, Mandi, I feel for you, I really do, but I don't know if I want to take on any more cases right now. My home just burned down and I'm trying to dig my emotions out of the ashes."
Mandible hung her head dejectedly. "Oh... A-Alright, I understand..."
Samba gave Limbo a light, reprimanding jab. "Limbo! This is serious! The police won't help her, so you're the only one she can turn to. After everything you've said about the B.P.D., do you really want to be as bad as them?"
"I've just got a lot on my plate right now," Limbo sighed. "If my situation were different, I'd have no problem helping her out."
"Then let me see if I can sweeten the deal," Samba insisted eagerly.
Limbo drew back at Samba's sudden enthusiasm. "Eh?"
"Consider this: Mandi's brother is a changeling. Her brother disappeared without a trace. How long ago did you say that was, Mandi?"
"Um..." Mandible pulled out her spellphone, browsing her texts. "My last text from him was a little over a month ago."
Limbo's eye widened suddenly, staring incredulously at Samba. "Wait... You don't think..."
"That's why I brought her here!" Samba exclaimed. "Maybe it's just a coincidence, but what were you telling me yesterday about coincidences and patterns? We've been speculating all this time that the Ghost was a changeling, but what if they just kidnapped one?!"
"You think?" Limbo uttered with cautious optimism.
Mandible's face suddenly went a little pale. "Wait, a g-ghost? N-Nopony told me this city was haunted!"
Limbo grimaced at her. "You don't actually believe in ghosts, do you?"
Samba gave Limbo a similar glare. "Really? This coming from you of all people?"
"Shut up," Limbo scolded through clenched teeth before turning back to Mandible. "Anyway, it's not a real ghost—'cause they don't exist. That's just the name we've given to a serial kidnapper here in Baltimare."
"Oh! You think that ghost stole my brother's soul?" Mandible inferred.
Limbo ran a hoof down her face. "It's not a real ghost," she repeated firmly.
"I think she meant they 'spirited him away,'" Samba corrected. "And, yeah, that's what I've been getting at! They could be using the Spellmet to copy changeling shapeshifting!"
"What's a 'Spellmet'?" asked the changeling.
"A dumb name for a revolutionary—if not hideous—invention. Long story short, the guy who made your spellphone invented a thing that can copy magic spells and let even those who can't use magic for one reason or another to cast said spells."
"Oh. That sounds cool," Mandible commented.
"Until you learn that the Ghost stole one," Limbo told her. She turned back to Samba. "Which is one of the problems with this theory. We've speculated that the Ghost was a changeling before the Spellmet was stolen. What reason would a changeling have to kidnap another changeling? Your brother know any special spells?" she asked Mandible.
"Uh, no. Just basic stuff, same as me. Shapeshifting and stuff."
"But we've just been operating on the assumption that the Spellmet stolen at the Magi-Tech Expo was the first Spellmet that went missing," said Samba. "If the Ghost works for Mango Inc., they could've just stolen one from H.Q., right?"
"Then why go through the trouble of planning the heist at the Expo?" Limbo questioned.
"The same reason they disguised themselves as a pegasus when meeting Wick Nimble! To throw us off the scent!" Samba persisted. "Or maybe it was because they had an outdated model and they wanted a newer one. Leaf mentioned that they'd gone through multiple revisions is a short amount of time. But here's the big thing," she continued with growing excitement. "Pedipalp is not just a changeling, he's a tourist. We never heard about his disappearance until now because he's not from here! If the Ghost had another Spellmet this whole time, it means they've had access to changeling shapeshifting for a while now! The Ghost might not be a changeling after all!"
Limbo's pale, silver eye glinted. "Which would mean the citizen records that we lost in the fire might not be as big a setback as I thought! It does unfortunately mean that we have to broaden our search, but if you're right, we could probably rule out the changelings altogether! And kirins for that matter, thanks to Sizzle Conifer. That's a relief, honestly. Less chance of moral dilemmas." Limbo grinned with renewed optimism and vigor. "Right, that settles that, then. First thing tomorrow, we're heading over to town hall, then back to Mango Inc. We ain't waitin' for Career to contact us."
"I mean, there's plenty of daylight left today. Why not go now?" Samba suggested.
Limbo shied away in slight shame. "'Cause I'd still like a little more time to mourn. I'm a tad worried that if I start randomly thinking about it, I'm gonna have an anxiety attack. And that wouldn't be conducive to nuthin'. You, uh... You understand, right?"
Samba hesitated in the face of the shockingly meek and shameful expression on Limbo's face. But she had a feeling she knew why she was looking at her like that. She smiled at her understandingly, as well as apologetically. "Yeah, I understand. And, listen, I really am sorry about the way I acted earlier. It was uncalled for, and I was just being selfish, only thinking about myself and not your feelings. I haven't known you very long, so just because I've never seen it before, doesn't mean you don't need time to reign your emotions in after something serious happens. You're a tough cookie, but you still have a heart."
"Well, for what little that does for me," Limbo chuckled. "But I want to apologize too. You were right. I can't just mope around and let this get to me. People's lives are on the line, so I've got to keep my eye on the prize. If the Ghost thinks they can crush my spirit, they got another thing coming," she declared with strengthened resolve. Then, she smiled at Samba gratefully. "But on a similar note, I've got something to say: the mare that was scolding me this morning didn't sound like the Samba I first met."
Samba blinked. "I didn't?"
"Nope. The old Samba only acted that belligerent when she was desperate. Otherwise, she was pretty mild-mannered, a little sheepish, even kinda submissive. You often talk about how you want to be a better person, or at least a better mom, so it might mean something to you that you made me feel an awful lot like a whiny child earlier. I can't say I know the 'proper' way to raise kids, but I've heard parents should be tough on their kids sometimes. Sounds like a step in the right direction to me," Limbo told her with a proud smile.
Again, Samba just stared at her, unsure if she entirely believed her logic. "You think?"
Limbo shrugged. "I dunno, what am I, a psychologist? That's just my two bits. You can take it or leave it."
Samba smiled gratefully. "I appreciate that. I don't know whether or not you're actually right, but it's still nice to hear."
"I dunno what's going on with you guys, but it's sweet to see you two sewing stuff together."
Limbo and Samba turned to Mandible, the detective blinking blankly. "Oh. Uh, sorry, kinda forgot you were here."
"I don't exactly have anywhere else to be," she told her with a shrug.
"You should probably get a hotel room," Samba suggested. "I'd offer you my couch, but it's occupied currently."
"That's nice, but I figured I'd be staying here awhile, so I already have a hotel room booked."
"Oh. Well, good."
The three of them just stood around in awkward silence for a minute, the only sound Mandible slurping on her smoothie.
Limbo was the one to break the silence. "All things considered, we should probably fill Mandible in on the Ghost situation if her brother happens to be one of the victims."
"I guess so," Samba agreed. She glanced to the still-nearly-full box of donuts, then back to Mandible. "Want a donut?"
Mandible simply shrugged, grabbing one with some chocolate coating and seating herself at the kitchen table.
"I guess we've got a dinner conversation set to go," Samba said with a shrug. "Should I order some takeout?"
Limbo pulled out a chair and sat down with Mandible. "I'm down for some Hayburger. You, Mandi?"
"Ooo, never had Hayburger before. Sure, I'll try it."
"Alright. You guys okay with just a burger and fries?" Samba pulled out her spellphone to call in the order.
"Sounds good," Mandible said with a nod.
"Fine by me. Oh, ask if they have morphoberry smoothies. I wanna try one," Limbo requested.
"Sure. That all?" Samba asked as she dialed.
"Yep. Oh, and since were treating my new client, consider this a business expense on me."
"Thanks. Alright, give me a sec." Samba said as she stepped out into the hall to make the order uninterrupted.
Mandible looked at Limbo curiously. "Is Hayburger good?"
"I haven't had it in a while, but it's a flavor that sticks with you. A fat, greasy hayburger with cheese, lettuce, onion, pickle, and a generous serving of their special sauce. It'll shorten your life expectancy, but some people ain't worried about that, myself especially. Oh, and the horseshoe fries are killer, if I remember right. Half potato, half fryer grease, and three quarters salt."
Mandible licked her lips in anticipation. "Mmm, we really need to get more pony food in the Changeling Kingdom. That sounds like it would really punch the stomach."
Limbo quirked an eyebrow. "Uh, that's one way to put it, I guess."
Samba took an extra second to make sure her mane was alright, brushing a few errant strands back into place, and gave Limbo an affirmative smile. "Ready."
"Good. Webber, get over here, bud."
The spider skittered up Limbo's leg from the coffee table and the detective lifted her eyepatch for him to crawl inside. As usual, Samba averted her eyes in order to help keep her breakfast down. She'd seen Limbo stabbed, dismembered, and decapitated multiple times at this point, but the sight of a spider crawling into or out of her empty eye socket still gave her the heebie-jeebies.
"Now, hopefully we won't be waiting too much longer," Limbo said with a slight huff, tapping her hoof on the carpeted floor of Samba's apartment.
Samba could certainly understand her impatience. Yesterday had revealed some potentially important information, and Limbo was eager to get a jump on it. Samba had a feeling that a possible breakthrough like this in the Ghost case would be just what Limbo needed to rekindle her motivation. It seemed nothing could really keep that dedicated detective down for long, whether it was losing her best friend, or having her home burnt down. Limbo was a force to be reckoned with, for sure.
Of course, Samba was almost as enthusiastic as Limbo was, which honestly surprised even herself. Samba was all for helping Limbo in any way she could, even having willingly put herself in harm's way a couple of times. She had started to convince herself that those were flukes, though; circumstances that, in retrospect, were not as dangerous as they first appeared. But the fact that she was fidgeting impatiently herself—not with nervousness, but excitement—was evidence that perhaps what Limbo had said about her yesterday may have had some merit. Maybe she'd find out for sure during her monthly weekend with Pirouette coming up.
Now all they had to do was wait for their new client to show up. With the new information they'd learned, having Mandible tag along to town hall probably wasn't a bad idea. Any additional details she could provide would be helpful. Also, Limbo had some choice words for Night Owl and the rest of the force for blowing Mandible's plight off like she'd lost her puppy, not her brother, but that was a little lower on the list of priorities right now.
Eventually, there was a knock on the door. Samba answered it, letting Mandible inside.
"Morning, Mandi," Samba greeted with a chipper lilt in her voice.
"Good morning," the changeling greeted back.
Limbo trotted over, eager to get about their day. "Alright, let's skip the pleasantries, ladies. We've got business to attend to. I wanna see professionalism all around."
"I was just saying hi," said Mandible. "I'm not much of a morning person, so I'm trying to force myself to be upbeat so you don't regret taking me along."
"Sounds like you need a coffee," Limbo assessed.
"Excuse me if I don't have a 'get up and sparkle' mentality," Mandible grumbled.
"Rise and shine," Samba corrected.
"Whatever."
Limbo gave Mandible a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, guiding her out into the hall so the three of them could get on their way. "Yeah, you definitely need coffee. I know that feel, believe me. Mornings are the bane of my existence without a steaming hot cup of joe to make it tolerable. Or three. Just ask my former colleagues at the B.P.D. That job is the reason I became a caffeine addict. And I actually haven't had a good cup of coffee since yesterday morning. I'm running on half a can of flat grape soda and Do-Boy's dirt water right now."
"You seem pretty mellow right now, though," Mandible pointed out.
"I chalk that up to my hyper focus on the case right now. The only other thing that energizes me the way coffee does is a good breakthrough. Also, my body has probably absorbed enough caffeine over the years to have a reserve of it stored in my pores. I'm surprised I don't sweat coffee at this point."
Mandible grimaced doubtfully. "I don't know much about pony anatomy, but I don't think it works like that."
"She's making a joke," Samba told the changeling with a quiet chuckle.
"Maybe I am, but I still need to get some real coffee in me, pronto," Limbo claimed with a sigh. "My raw enthusiasm will only get me so far. Gotta refill the tanks. You know what place actually has good coffee? There's this independent mobile vendor who sells great coffee. I know where he sets up shop every day of the week, and he should be on the way to town hall. What say we grab ourselves a cup each and some bagels, my treat?"
Mandible smiled gratefully. "Hard to say no to that. Coffee's not big in the Changeling Kingdom, but if it's as good as those hayburgers, I'll happily give it a shot."
"He got anything other than coffee?" Samba asked cautiously.
"Yeah, yeah, you can get tea if you want," Limbo told her mockingly. "But getting a cup of tea from him is like going to the beach with no intention of getting in the water."
"How would you know? Do you even know what tea tastes like?" she countered.
"Hey, I liked that rotroot tea."
"I think we both know the real reason you 'liked' it," Samba deadpanned, shuddering at the thought.
The three of them stepped outside the apartment building, Limbo turning her eye up towards the skyline as she pondered something.
"Huh. Maybe coffee is the only good drink we ponies have, and even then it's hit or miss. Rotroot tea, morphoberry smoothies... Other cultures have some interesting, non-coffee drinks. Wonder what the favorite beverage is in the Dragon Lands."
"I don't think even you could stomach what the dragons drink. It's probably something to do with gemstones or lava."
"Sounds like a challenge to me," Limbo said with a half-joking smirk.
Making their way down the streets of Baltimare toward town hall, Limbo lead Samba and Mandible to where she knew this vendor set up shop on Thursdays, which was apparently outside a local buckball stadium. The mobile cart didn't really stand out much, as there were competing vendors set up nearby as well. The crowd outside, as well as the commotion coming from the stadium, seemed to suggest there was a game in progress, but that wasn't of any concern to the three mares; they were only stopping by for a quick breakfast.
Limbo approached the green and white cart, the smell of toast and freshly brewed coffee wafting from the compact kitchen within. The detective greeted the vendor—a white unicorn stallion with a green and white striped mane that matched the cart's décor—with familiarity, the two exchanging pleasantries as though they were close friends and despite her earlier insistences against such things in the essence of time.
Samba had a look around as they waited for the friendly vendor to prepare their orders. Despite Limbo having talked up the guy's coffee, there weren't many customers waiting in line. She wasn't complaining, as it meant they could get their orders faster, but it appeared his business just wasn't as popular as the competition, which all appeared to be stalls belonging to big name chain restaurants.
But, as it so happened, while they were waiting, Samba spotted Mayor Highstrung walking away from a Do-Boy's cart, a cup of coffee and a pair of glazed donuts in the pink grasp of his magic. Considering where they were currently headed, it seemed prudent to grab the mayor's attention.
"Mister Mayor! Over here!" Samba called out, flagging the portly, yellow stallion down.
With one of the donuts wedged in his mouth, Mayor Highstrung glanced her way. He chomped down, chewing with a smile as he waddled his way over. "Mish Shamba, goob morning," he greeted with a mouthful of pastry before swallowing. "And you as well, Detective."
Limbo barely acknowledged him as she leaned on the counter, just halfheartedly lifting a hoof as she stared desperately at the coffee being poured up for her. "Don't talk to me until I've had my coffee."
The mayor turned his attention to the changeling standing with Samba and Limbo. "And who's this?"
"New client. Name's Mandible. Mandible, Mayor Highstrung," Limbo introduced concisely without even taking her eyes off her coffee.
Highstrung suddenly straightened up, putting on a more professional face while dabbing the crumbs from his mouth with his necktie. He cleared his throat as he greeted Mandible with uncharacteristic charisma. "Good morning, Madam, lovely to meet you. I'd just like to say that it's wonderful to see the changeling community in our fine city thriving so strongly. And as your mayor, you can rest assured that any treatment deemed unjust or hurtful toward your esteemed people will be swiftly dealt with under my guidance to ensure that Baltimare is an ideal second home for you and your kin."
Mandible just blinked blankly.
"What are you doing?" Samba asked him, just as confused herself.
Highstrung's professionalism faltered slightly, a bead of nervous sweat rolling down his forehead. "Um, I-I'm just doing what Gust suggested and trying to endear myself to my citizens. I was practicing in the mirror last night and this morning. I quite think I'm getting better at exuding confidence." He ran a hoof through his mane to reconstitute his previous disposition as he turned back to Mandible. "So, how did that sound?"
Mandible's monotone eyes just shifted awkwardly. "Um..."
"She's not a citizen. She arrived in the city yesterday," Limbo informed him as she walked over with her coffee.
"Oh..." That caused the mayor to visibly deflate, but he quickly gave the changeling a hopeful grin. "Still, if you were a citizen here, would I have been able to count on your support after that spiel?"
Mandible just stared in utter confusion. "I have no idea what we're talking about."
"Get your orders in, girls. We ain't got all day," Limbo requested, tilting her head toward the cart. While they were doing that, she turned to the mayor. "We were just on our way to town hall because of Mandible actually. Speaking of which, it's ten o' clock, shouldn't you be there by now? You don't seem too concerned about the prospect of Bubble Gust putting your head on a pike for being late again."
"Oh, she's not even in yet either," he told her. "She and I worked late last night to prepare for the election. I decided to pack it in eventually, but she insisted on pulling an all-nighter to rewrite my speech. She likely won't be coming into work until noon and Loose Leaf requested some time off."
"Hm." Limbo took a much needed sip of her coffee. "Gotta admire her tenacity. Girl's still putting her all into this even though the election is basically a foregone conclusion at this point."
"You really have no faith in me, do you, Detective?" Highstrung moaned, lowering his head and taking a depressed bite of his donut.
"I don't really give a flying frejole about the election. I just know I don't care for any of the candidates," she stated bluntly.
Samba and Mandible returned with their orders. The former had the same kind of paper cup that Limbo and Mandible did, but contained tea instead of coffee. The changeling, along with her coffee, carried a pair of toasted bagel slathered with cream cheese in her neon green aura, one of them belonging to Samba since she needed at least three legs to walk.
"All set," Samba interjected.
Limbo nodded and started back down the street towards town hall, Samba, Mandible, and Mayor Highstrung following along with her. "Guess it's fortuitous that we happened to bump into the mayor on the way. Woulda sucked to show up there and find out the place is locked up."
"So, what are you helping Miss Mandible with anyway, Detective?" Highstrung inquired to kill time on the way.
"Her brother disappeared while he was visiting the city. We have a hunch that it may have been the Ghost."
"Ah, then this is pertinent to my interests," the mayor said with a smile.
"Might want to try being a little more tactful, Mister Mayor," Samba warned him.
"What? We're all on the same side here."
Samba shook her head with a sigh. "Not the point. And I think I know who I'm voting for..." she mumbled.
"Well, I may have to just leave you ladies to your devices," Highstrung told them with an exasperated sigh. "As much as I'd like to help in whatever way I can, I currently have a lot on my plate."
Limbo grimaced at him. "Psh, right. Maybe when your house burns down you can complain about having a full plate."
Mayor Highstrung frowned upon hearing that. "Ah, right. We read about that in the paper yesterday. Our condolences."
"Save your sympathies, I've got better things to do than mope around feeling sorry for myself like a certain political official I know."
"Should I recount the events of yesterday for him?" Samba deadpanned.
"Shush. My point is, maybe try thinking about other people before yourself. You're the mayor. It's kinda your job to keep everpony's best interest in mind."
"And I can't exactly do that if I lose the election," Highstrung countered.
"You don't have to be a leader to think about other people. It surprises and disheartens me how many people I know that haven't figured that out yet. And two of them are running for mayor. This city is going downhill either way."
"Um, maybe focus on the task at hoof," Samba suggested, pointing out that town hall was now within sight.
"Yeah, yeah, agree to disagree or whatever," Limbo moaned dismissively.
Highstrung lead them up the short steps of the building, unlocking the door and letting them inside. They went straight for Bubble Gust's office, the breezie secretary nowhere in sight like the mayor presumed.
"So, what were you looking for, Detective?" asked the mayor.
"Citizen records, like usual. Except now we need info on all of Mango Inc.'s staff."
"It wasn't one of the changeling employees?" Highstrung asked with hopefulness.
"If our hunch holds water, then it would be unlikely. Unfortunately, the files that Leaf delivered the other day were roasted like chestnuts, so... Yeah, sorry about that."
Highstrung ran a hoof over his mane with a groan. "Oooh, they aren't going to be happy to hear that... Maybe we can keep that little tidbit under wraps until after the election."
"If you think that'll make a difference. Anyhoo, wanna get on that, or do you need your pint-sized helper to do it for you?"
The mayor sighed. "I'll see what I can do. I'll take whatever time I can get without a high-pitched voice yelling in my ear," he moaned as he started sifting through the filing cabinets.
"It is kinda quiet around here without Bubble Gust and Leaf," Samba commented. She glanced around at all the bookshelves surrounding them. "Almost feels more like an actual library."
Mandible scanned the myriad books lining the shelves with interest. "I wonder what pony books are like."
"You an avid reader, Mandi?" asked Samba.
"I've read some books written by changeling authors, but they're all either about super kiddy, happy sunshine and rainbows, or our dark and violent history. Not really my mug of cocoa," she said as she sipped her coffee. She licked her lips with a pleased smile. "Mmm, this coffee is definitely my mug of cocoa, though. Invigorating. Kinda makes my heart feel like it's beating faster. Um, is that a good thing?"
"Depends who you ask probably."
Samba joined Mandible in perusing the shelves while Limbo and the mayor were busy. While she was walking along the perimeter of the room, she spotted a book laying on the floor. There was a clearly empty space on the shelf nearby where it was supposed to be, but it must have somehow fallen. Glancing at the cover of the book, Samba learned it was a dictionary; a very thick and heavy dictionary. It may have been one of the heftiest books in the room. Proving that point, Samba picked it up with no lack of effort, as though it were filled with lead. She was about to return it to its place on the shelf, having no interest in leafing through a dictionary, but she paused. There was a dark red stain that had soaked into the blue carpet, previously concealed by the book.
Samba's heart suddenly felt like it had jumped up into her throat, a disturbing thought occurring to her. With narrowed pupils, she turned her eyes back to the book in her grasp, slowly and shakily flipping it over.
Stuck to the back cover of the book, which was stained with the same red liquid, was the diminutive form of a breezie, pressed face down onto the book as flat as a piece of paper.
"Eyaaaah!"
In a horrified panic, Samba haphazardly flung the book, the dictionary flipping through the air before landing with a loud thud and a wet squelch back on the floor. Samba immediately held her hooves to her mouth regrettably when she'd realized what she'd done.
At the sound of her terrified shriek, Limbo, Mayor Highstrung, and Mandible all hurried over to investigate.
"Samba? What happened?" Limbo asked.
The unicorn could only sit there, wide-eyed and aghast. She pointed a shaky hoof toward the dictionary. "Bu-Bu... Ha-ma-ma... Whaaa..." was all she could manage in her current state.
Her panicked stammering sounded a little familiar to Limbo. Following her quivering hoof, the detective cautiously flipped the dictionary over, revealing the flattened body of Bubble Gust plastered on the other side.
Highstrung took a step back in shock, placing his hooves on his head in horror. "Wh-What?! G-Gust?!"
Limbo grimaced at the pitiable sight. "Oooh, that's not good."
Mandible leaned over the trembling Samba's shoulder at the smooshed breezie. "Um... Long shot, but you think she's okay?"
***** ***** *****
Within a half an hour, town hall had become surrounded by police carriages, the entrance to the building blocked off by officers and yellow tape. Many passersby slowed down to see if they could glean what was going on, but they were all shooed away by the cops standing guard in the area.
Inside, the office of the mayor's secretary was being combed over by the B.P.D.'s forensics team. A pair of officers were busy peeling Bubble Gust's body off of the bloody dictionary, dropping her into what appeared to be a resealable plastic bag that somepony had spray painted black.
Meanwhile, Limbo, Samba, Mayor Highstrung, and Mandible were forced to wait in the hallway while the cops did their work. The mayor was in quite the tizzy, pacing around nervously and mumbling to himself.
"You're gonna have to stop that," Limbo grumbled in annoyance.
"How can I?!" he blurted. "My secretary is dead! What am I supposed to do now?! My entire campaign was riding on her! I'll be a total train wreck without her!"
"Personally, I'd feel sorry for her before myself, but that's just me," Samba muttered with a scowl.
"Not our problem, Mister Mayor," Limbo told him apathetically. "Right now, we have to focus on cooperating with the B.P.D., for as much good as that's gonna do us."
Mandible glanced between Limbo and Samba frantically, her whole body practically quivering, though not necessarily with terror. "Gotta say you two are surprisingly calm for having just discovered a dead body," she spouted off in one quick breath.
"Well, I was a cop myself once," Limbo explained. "I've seen my fair share of crime scenes. Not the first dead body I've seen."
"I wish I could say it was mine," Samba uttered under her breath with a discreet glance at Limbo.
"Well I'm a little jittery after that. Can't stop shaking," Mandible said.
Limbo eyed up the coffee cup in her magical grip, not hearing any splashing within it, even with how much it was shaking. "Somehow, I doubt that's from seeing the body."
"And what is standing around here going to accomplish anyway?" Highstrung argued. "She died, plain and simple. What information could we possibly offer?"
Limbo gave the mayor a firm slap upside the head, earning a disgruntled glower from him, but nothing more. "If you would cool your jets for a few minutes, maybe you could think about this more clearly."
"My secretary was pressed flat enough to be pinned in an entomology display. How am I supposed to be calm?!"
"Maybe start by showing a little respect for the dead, Mister Mayor," Samba scolded.
"Samba, you wanna tell him what I'm getting at?" Limbo requested with an exasperated eye roll.
The dancer blinked in confusion. "Huh? Uh... What are we talking about?"
Limbo was about to elaborate, but her attention was diverted by a certain police officer brushing his way through the other cops, his eyes locked onto her the whole way.
Night Owl greeted her with a long sigh through his nostrils. "Why am I not surprised to see you here? You just go wherever the action is, don'tcha?"
"It's not like I know about it in advance. I'm just a lucky gal, I guess," Limbo joked. "Why are you so late anyway? Thought you were supposed to be the competent one."
"I was busy with other stuff," he told her, being purposely vague.
"Let me guess: Career."
Owl narrowed his eyes at her. "What's it to you?"
"Well, I might have some info on that front. Interested?" she told him coyly.
He hesitated, staring doubtfully. "And what might that be?"
"Oh! She's talking about me!" Mandible interjected energetically, invading Owl's personal space and causing him to step back uncomfortably.
Owl glanced between Limbo and the changeling. "New friend?"
"Client," Limbo corrected. "She's—"
"I'm Mandible but you call me Mandi! Detective Limbo thinks my brother's disappearance is related to that Ghost person and wants me to help!"
Owl could only stare at her, her boisterous and enthusiastic attitude weirding him out. He turned to Limbo. "What is her deal?"
"Sorry," Limbo offered with a shrug. "Coffee virgin. You know how it is."
Owl just grimaced, gently pushing the changeling back to give himself some breathing room. "Right. So, I gather her brother's a victim of the Ghost?"
"Is this what we should be discussing right now?" Samba interjected. "Bubble Gust just died. I think we can put the Ghost thing on hold for a minute."
"Let us make that judgment," Owl said with authority before turning back to Limbo. "What's your theory? Because, let's face it, whatever info you've got, it's not gonna be conclusive proof."
"Mandible's brother's a changeling tourist who knew no noteworthy spells. If the Ghost was a changeling, they'd have no reason to kidnap them. Ergo, the Ghost may not be a changeling like we previously suspected."
"Could be a copycat," Owl posited.
"Possible, but unlikely."
"How do you figure?"
"Consider this: what if the Ghost had one of Career's devices prior to the heist?"
Owl straightened up slightly. "Interesting. Certainly possible if they work for him. You're suggesting they wanted a more updated model, then?"
"Precisely, and used the expo to misdirect us."
"And an out-of-towner disappearing would fly under our radar. Makes sense so far, but it's still all conjecture."
"Tangent, but what have you learned from Career thus far?"
Owl didn't respond, simply grumbling in mild frustration.
"That's what I thought. You can't tell me he's not being disagreeable about this investigation."
"You saying you haven't considered that possibility yourself?"
Owl said nothing.
"You know my hunches are reliable. You wouldn't be investigating Career by yourself if they weren't."
"I'm not jumping to conclusions, if that's what you're saying."
"But you're suspicious of him, just like I am."
Mandible watched the back and forth with vested interest. "Wow, they're really playing ping pong, huh? This is cool."
"I mean, it's not like this has anything to do with why we're here right now," Samba reiterated.
Owl, having heard Samba's comment, backed away from the conversation. "She's right. This is a discussion for another time. Miss Gust's death is priority one right now. So unless you somehow have something to contribute in that regard, kindly leave and stay out of our way."
"And what makes you think we don't?" Limbo challenged.
Samba quirked an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? What's to figure out?"
"I just think there's more to this than meets the eye."
"I don't know how much that means coming from a cyclops," Owl mocked.
"You wanna get slugged in the chops?" Limbo threatened.
The bat pony sighed with annoyance and exasperation. "I swear to Celestia, Limbo, if you suggest that the Ghost is somehow related to Miss Gust's death..."
"I'm not saying that specifically."
Samba's eyes widened as she caught onto what Limbo was getting at. "Wait, you don't actually think Gust was murdered, do you?"
"What?! Murdered?! Why?!" Highstrung balked.
"I don't see how this points to a murder," Samba disagreed. "It seems too simple."
"Yeah she was just a itsy-bitsy breezie who got smooshed by a big fat dictionary," Mandible yammered. "Howzat not make sense?"
Limbo cast a bemused look at Owl. "Your people wouldn't happen to have brought any tranquillizers we could give her, did they?"
"Doubtful, but I'm tempted to ask," he responded with a grimace of his own.
"Can we stay on topic please?" Samba insisted, growing impatient with this discussion.
"Okay, think about this," Limbo started. "Why did Gust get squashed like a grape in wine country?"
"She might've just got a little careless," Samba speculated. "According to Mayor Highstrung, she was pulling an all-nighter by herself."
The mayor held a hoof to his face with regret. "Oooh, if I had just insisted she go home when I did, this would never have happened..."
"I doubt she'd've listened to you anyway," Limbo remarked. "Let's face it, you don't exactly have a strong air of authority, which is pretty sad to say about our mayor."
"What I'm trying to get at is that maybe she was just rummaging through the bookshelf and the dictionary fell on her," Samba continued.
"I doubt that," Highstrung disagreed. "The books in her office are mostly for decoration. Just old textbooks and encyclopedias."
"But you said she was rewriting your speech, right? Maybe she needed to check the dictionary to look for a specific ponish word."
"I don't see any need for that. Her accent may have been thick, but she was perfectly fluent in ponish," the mayor assured. "In all the time I've known her, I've never heard her trip over her words. She spoke ponish better than some who speak it natively."
"I can attest to that based on my interactions with her," Limbo corroborated. "So, then, I ask again: what reason did she have to remove the dictionary and put herself in very obvious danger for a creature her size? I know she can be prideful and defensive when it comes to her size, but she's obviously aware of her limitations. She doesn't have any systems in place for the bookshelves like she does the filing cabinets, so I don't see any legitimate reason for her to do that."
Owl held up a hoof. "Counterpoint: what reason would somecreature have to come here and kill her?"
"I'm not saying that somecreature came here with the sole intention of killing Bubble Gust. After all, she was working later than usual. Town hall should've been locked up for the night."
"A burglary, then?" Owl presumed.
"But what would be valuable enough here to be worth stealing?" Highstrung questioned. "Nothing here is worth more than a few hundred bits at most."
"Guess we'll just have to find out," Limbo suggested. She looked expectantly at Owl.
The stallion, in turn, looked at Mayor Highstrung, speaking to him with reluctant authority. "Mister Mayor, I'd like to ask that you search the offices for anything that may be out of place."
The mayor hesitated, but nodded. "O-Okay." He then scampered off into the office.
With that done, Owl set his curious and doubtful sights back on Limbo. "So, seeing as you apparently have all the answers, what do you propose this supposed burglar was after?"
Limbo simply shrugged. "Who can say? But we'll know in due time once the mayor finds out what's missing."
"If something's missing," Owl corrected with a glower. "Hypothetically speaking, what if it turns out that nothing was stolen? You still going to insist that this was a murder?"
"I don't see enough evidence to suggest that this was an accident. Gust had systems in place to access anything she needs in her office. I saw nothing near the body she would have used to help her remove a heavy book like that. She might be a little brash, but I have a hard time believing that her death is a result of carelessness."
"This is just you making wild assumptions again, but fine, let's run with this. Miss Gust was murdered. Mayor Highstrung insists there's nothing of value to steal. Would our potential thief see it necessary to take a person's life over whatever it is they came here for?"
"Well, let's ponder another question, shall we?" Limbo said. "Who stands to gain from Bubble Gust's death?"
Owl narrowed his eyes at her. "You can't be serious."
"It's a possibility," Limbo posited with a shrug.
"You're gonna stand there and tell me that you determined all of that already. Is that why you brought him up earlier?"
Mandible leaned over to Samba. "I'm totally lost."
"You and me both, sister," Samba sighed.
Owl prodded a hoof defiantly against Limbo's barrel. "You're a loon if you actually think that Mango Career killed her."
"Will you two calm down?" Limbo told them, shoving Owl's hoof away. "I'm not accusing Career, I'm just saying that he benefits from Gust's death. It could be entirely possible that one of his fanatic followers wanted to ensure their idol's victory in the election."
"You really think that would be necessary? You yourself said that Career basically has the election in the bag already, Limbo," Samba reminded her.
Limbo responded by turning to Owl. "What do you think, chum?"
Owl grimaced, but didn't fight her point. "I can't say there's no credence to that. There are some nut cases out there who'll do some crazy things because they think it's helpful, even murder. We've dealt with similar cases in the past."
"So you're not denying the possibility," Limbo said with a genuine grin.
Owl glared at her. "I still think you're grasping at straws. This whole theory of yours is predicated on whether or not the 'killer' came here to steal something. So stop wetting your lips. You're not tooting your own horn yet."
"Um, Chief Night Owl."
Owl turned back to see Highstrung returning from the office. He cast the mayor a corrective glower. "Call me Sergeant, please."
"Uh, sure, sure. Anyway, it appears that something has indeed gone missing."
Owl shot a haughty smirk back at Limbo. "Hear that? Looks like Miss Gust was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Take that pill with your next cup of coffee."
Limbo just indignantly rolled her eye. "I was the one to suggest that it may have been a burglary, remember?"
"And then you claimed that somepony came here to kill her."
"I said it was a possibility. I never disagreed that it could've been happenstance."
"Whatever." Owl faced Highstrung once more. "Alright, so what went missing?"
"Some citizen records. After sifting through them, it would seem that most—if not all—of the records pertaining to employees of Mango Incorporated were stolen, including those of Mister Career himself and even his brother."
Owl blinked. He hesitated, a disgruntled scowl working its way onto his face as he slowly looked back at Limbo again, the detective flashing the toothiest, most triumphant grin back at him.
"Just Mango Inc. employees?" Samba repeated with some surprise. "But... if Gust's killer came here for those files specifically..."
"It could've been the Ghost, is what you're trying to get at, right?" Owl insinuated. "Hate to burst a second bubble here, but the Ghost wouldn't have just left the body there to be discovered. We don't even have any conclusive proof that the Ghost has ever killed anypony."
Samba and Limbo shared knowing glances, but said nothing.
Owl ran a hoof through his mane with an exasperated sigh. "But this does mean I'm going to have to pay Mango Inc. headquarters another visit sometime in the near future. You know, after we finish up here. Anything else you wanna randomly throw out, Limbo?"
"Well, I had intended to chew you guys out for dismissing poor Mandible here and her plight, but, you know what? I'm in a good mood suddenly, so I think I've said enough for now," she said with a condescending flick of her hoof.
"My thoughts exactly. Now, kindly make yourself scarce. We're busy here," Owl grumbled, taking his leave of the conversation. "Mister Mayor, I'm gonna ask you to come with me. You need to be questioned while we take inventory on those missing records."
"Oh, y-yes, of course." Highstrung obediently followed Owl into the office, leaving Limbo, Samba, and Mandible in the hall with just a few slacking officers milling about.
Limbo started making her way toward the exit. "Well, no sense sticking around here while the cops are in our way. Let's bounce."
Limbo, Samba, and Mandible stepped outside and down onto the sidewalk. There was quite a commotion in the streets, as the presence of so many police officers around town hall was sure to garner attention, so the cops outside were pretty busy maintaining the perimeter and keeping the curious citizens from sticking their noses where they didn't belong.
But Limbo just ignored the masses, instead silently focusing on her own thoughts.
"Wasn't expecting this today," Mandible commented. "I just came to this city to learn more about my brother's disappearance. Didn't think I'd get all tied up in a murder."
"We still don't know for sure that Bubble Gust was murdered," Samba reminded her. She let out a somber sigh. "It's still hard to believe that she's just... gone, just like that."
"Yeah, kinda crazy. Hey, can we get more coffee?" Mandible asked, still clearly riding her caffeine high.
"I... don't think that's a good idea," said Samba to the jittery changeling. She turned to Limbo, who was being surprisingly quiet. She offered a sympathetic look. "I guess this is tougher for you, huh? You've known Gust longer than me. It must have been shocking."
Limbo looked up, snapped from her thoughts. "Hm? Oh, yeah, very tragic, great person, taken before her time, other stuff you might hear in a eulogy. Anyway, we need to figure out why this happened."
Samba stared at her, a little disappointed in her reaction. "You're not gonna take any time to mourn her death?"
"She's gone, Samba. Mourning's not gonna fix that," Limbo stated bluntly. "We should focus on the more important stuff, like finding out who did this and why to prevent somepony else from meeting the same fate."
"Makes sense to me," said Mandible. "I mean, it's not like we can just bring her back to life, right?"
Samba and Limbo exchanged brief glances, but wisely ignored the comment.
"Anyway..." Samba started to divert the subject. "What's the plan now?"
"Let's recap," Limbo began. "Bubble Gust was working alone here late last night. A burglar shows up with the intent of stealing citizen records pertaining to Mango Inc. employees and related people. Whoever this person was, they likely weren't expecting Bubble Gust to be there. As a result, they were caught red hoofed slash clawed slash whatever they have by Gust. In a panic, the thief, afraid that Gust would contact the police, did the only thing they could think to do and splattered her like a bug on a carriage window."
"I'm surprised and a bit disgusted by how little respect people have for the dead, especially you," Samba grumbled.
"And I kinda build a fence to that comparison," Mandible grimaced.
"The killer then chose not to dispose of the body, perhaps believing what Owl did and hoping it would just look like an act of carelessness on the victim's part," Limbo continued. "Seems a little amateurish, if you ask me, which reinforces my assumption that the murder was not premeditated."
"And you're assuming that the murderer is connected to Mango Inc.?" Samba said, recalling Limbo's words.
"That would make the most sense, and the files that disappeared could also point to the Ghost being involved. Wick Nimble is proof that the Ghost is not above employing scapegoats."
"So we're going to Mango Inc., then, right?" Samba presumed.
"Oooh, does this mean I get to meet the guy who invented the spellphone?" Mandible chirped eagerly, trotting in place. "I'm a little nervous. I hope I don't get hit by stars."
Samba gave the changeling a frown. "Um, I think it might be better for you to wait back at your hotel room, Mandi. Maybe drink some water and find a way to work the caffeine out of your system."
"Yeah, I ain't hiring another assistant," Limbo added. "I'm not made of paychecks and complimentary lunches."
Mandible just shrugged, her coffee-fueled enthusiasm undeterred. "Okey doke. I want another bagel anyway. Those things were dee-lish." She licked her lips as she trotted on her way back toward her hotel.
Samba turned back to Limbo. Now that Mandible had left, the detective appeared to be seriously mulling something over. "What's up?"
Limbo paused before answering, looking a little conflicted. "I have a hunch, but I want more information first."
"You gonna talk to Career?"
"Eventually, but there's another stop I wanna make before we head there. I've just gotta ask the mayor for an address."
***** ***** *****
Limbo had lead Samba to the suburbs of Baltimare, as per the directions that Mayor Highstrung had given them. Samba was still in the dark, though. Limbo was being annoyingly coy about where exactly they were headed, and no matter how many times Samba asked, the detective kept her mouth shut. All she knew was that they were in the suburbs, near the coastline of Horseshoe Bay. It was a pretty stunning view, all things considered, but it was hard to enjoy it what with the thought of having just discovered a dead body an hour ago.
The two mares stopped in front of a two-story, light blue house. Limbo checked the address the mayor had given her, confirming that this was the place. They stepped up onto the porch and Limbo knocked on the door.
"Okay, can you please tell me who we're looking for?" Samba asked again in frustration.
"Sheesh, how impatient are you? We're here now. Just wait two more seconds," Limbo chastised.
After about ten more seconds, the door finally opened, and on the other side was—to Samba's surprise and confusion—Loose Leaf.
"Oh, hey, guys," Leaf greeted. "Can't say I was expecting company, least of all you two."
Samba scowled slightly at Limbo. "Really? We came to find Leaf? And why exactly couldn't you just tell me that?"
"It builds suspense," she answered as though that were an adequate reasoning.
"You watch too many movies," Samba grumbled.
"I don't remember ever telling you where I live," Leaf noted curiously. "But if I know you as well as I think I do, I'm guessing this isn't a casual visit.
Samba frowned distressingly. "We've got some bad news, Leaf."
"Bubble Gust is dead," Limbo stated outright.
Leaf's eyes widened in shock. "What?! Are you serious?!"
Samba nodded solemnly. "She was working late on Mayor Highstrung's speech last night. We found her body not long ago."
"Holy crap," he breathed with disbelief. "That's crazy. Just like that, huh? What even happened?"
"Flattened by a dictionary," answered Limbo. "I know they say 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me,' but..."
"Will you stop?" Samba chided her.
Leaf ran a hoof through his thick, white mane with a sigh. "Geez, this is certainly not news I expected to get today. Makes me wonder if it somehow could've been avoided if I hadn't had the last couple of days off from work."
"Knowing Gust, she probably would've suggested you work with her all night," Samba said with a small smile.
"I don't doubt that," Leaf chuckled. "She could get a little too... flirty for my tastes occasionally, but I definitely wouldn't wish something like this for her. I can only imagine the state the mayor's in right now."
"Yeah, he's kind of a mess, but it's not like I expected any different," said Limbo.
Leaf looked between the two mares curiously. "Okay, as rough as this news is, I get the feeling there's more to this visit than just breaking the news to me. I hope you don't think that me and Gust were actually 'a thing.'"
Limbo put on her serious face. "We have reason to believe that she was murdered."
Leaf took a moment to process that. "I see. Let me guess: I'm a suspect because I have access to town hall, and because of how 'close' Gust and I are."
"True. The cops are interrogating the mayor as we speak, so they'll likely come looking for you later too. But, more than that, a bunch of citizen records were stolen in the process, all allegedly related to people working at, or connected to, Mango Incorporated. According to the mayor, even yours and your brother's have gone missing."
"Really? So essentially you're saying that everycreature related to Mango Inc. is a suspect in this murder," Leaf inferred. "You think this is related to the Ghost at all in that case?"
"Possibly. That's what we're trying to determine. We'll probably be headed over to talk to your brother after this before the cops can get their grubby mitts on him."
"So we're questioning Leaf?" asked Samba. "Is that really necessary? Do you honestly think he'd do something like that?"
"We have to be impartial, Samba. That's part of what it takes to uphold the law," Limbo explained. "Everypony is innocent until proven guilty, but the opposite is kinda true too. You can't rule anypony out until you have definitive proof." She turned back to Leaf. "So, with that in mind, I'd like to ask some questions regarding your whereabouts last night."
Leaf simply smiled accommodatingly, stepping inside and gesturing for them to come inside. "Sure. Anything I can do to help you catch Gust's killer. Come on in."
Limbo and Samba accepted the invitation. Leaf's home wasn't anything spectacular at first glance, just your run-of-the-mill, two-story house. However, it was the things that lay around the place that caught the two visitors' eyes. Leaf lead them into the living room, and Samba and Limbo immediately noticed several dismantled spellphones on the coffee table, not dissimilar to his brother's desk at Mango Incorporated headquarters. And it wasn't just spellphones; there was a large bookshelf in the room that displayed not books, but various electronics, including a remote control airship, a radio, a desk fan, and a plethora of other gadgets whose purposes were not immediately apparent to anypony who wasn't a tech nut.
"Can I get you girls anything? Limbo, I know you like your coffee," Leaf kindly offered.
Limbo grimaced at him in suspicion. "What, you trying to poison me with your iced coffee?"
Leaf sighed at her stubbornness. "I have a coffee maker. I can make more than iced coffee."
He lead her into the kitchen, pointing out the state-of-the-art coffee maker on the counter, right next to the state-of-the-art toaster and state-of-the-art blender.
Limbo walked over to the coffee maker, eyeing it up. "You have a top-of-the-line coffee maker, and yet you choose to drink iced coffee. What kind of psychopath are you?"
"Do you want coffee or not?" Leaf deadpanned bemusedly.
She narrowed her eyes. "Show me where you keep the grounds and I'll make it myself."
Leaf shoved her out of the way. "Will you relax? I think I can manage a black coffee."
"We'll see."
Leaf got everything ready and started the coffee maker. "You want some coffee too, Samba?"
"Oh, uh, no, thanks. I'll just have water," she replied, not wanting to impose.
"You sure? I can make tea if you'd prefer that."
Samba smiled. "Well, if you're offering. Thank you."
"You like green tea?"
Samba tilted her head curiously. "I've never had it, but I'll give it shot."
"Alrighty." Leaf turned on the state-of-the-art kettle. "At least you're more open-minded than Limbo," he quipped with a smirk in the detective's direction.
"Hey, I'm not closed-minded. I just prefer good beverages," Limbo responded defensively.
Leaf just chuckled as he fetched some mugs for his guests.
While he was preparing their drinks, Samba looked around Leaf's kitchen. With all the doodads in his living room and the high tech appliances in the kitchen, she was starting to get an idea of what Leaf was into. "You've got a lot of tech stuff here. I guess that makes sense seeing who your brother is."
"Mango's got nothing to do with it really. I've been tinkering with electronics since I was a kid. I grew up during the advent of Equestrian technology, it was hard not to take an interest in that stuff."
"Speak for yourself," Limbo grumbled. "This kinda junk just goes right over my head."
"I can't say I know much about this stuff either," Samba admitted with some embarrassment. "I can use a spellphone, but I have no idea how they work internally."
"Well, it's a little more than just circuitry," Leaf explained. "A lot of technology uses magic too. That was part of Mango's philosophy when he started his business: to unite magic and technology in a way that could change the Equestrian lifestyle as we know it."
"Sounds like he succeeded," Samba said with a smile.
"Save for the part where we've got little kids glued to their phones all the time," added Limbo.
"So, why are you taking phones apart anyway?" asked Samba, referring to what she saw in the living room. "I figured you'd know how they work, right?"
"Like I said, I like to tinker. Pretty much every piece of tech you see in here I've modified in some way," he answered. "I was working on those phones before you two showed up. I actually make a little extra cash on the side modding spellphones for people. Just, uh... don't tell my brother about that. It voids the warranty and might be a little bit..." He glanced at Limbo, looking a little nervous.
"If you're going to say 'illegal,' don't worry about it," she told him indifferently. "This sorta crap is a little out of my wheelhouse. Scribble might know more about it. She's always on her phone, texting her friends."
"Good to know," Leaf chuckled as he poured up Limbo's coffee and Samba's tea.
Limbo stared into the mug at the black brew inside. It looked like a pretty normal cup of black coffee.
"Would you stop acting like its a magic potion with unknown effects?" Leaf chastised with a challenging smirk. "Just drink it."
"For what it's worth, this green tea is delicious," Samba complimented with a satisfied grin.
Limbo grimaced, apprehensively bringing the mug to her lips and taking a tiny sip.
"How is it?" Leaf asked with a cocky smile. "Good, right?"
Limbo paused briefly, narrowing her eyes at him. "I admit nothing."
Leaf just rolled his eyes, shaking his head in amusement at her stubborn pride. "As fun as this small talk is, you guys came here for a more important reason, right?"
Limbo nodded. "Right, why don't we just get straight to it, then? We've got other stuff we need to do today. So, Leaf, where exactly were you last night? We don't have a specific timeframe for Gust's death yet, so I'd like to know your movements and activities between when town hall normally locks up and ten o' clock this morning."
"Well, that's pretty easy," Leaf said with a confident and dismissive shrug as he walked his guests back to the living room. "I had the last couple of days off from work, so all I've been doing is volunteering at the soup kitchen during the day and fiddling with these spellphones during the night."
"And do you have anypony who can corroborate your story?" Limbo inquired.
"The homeless people at the soup kitchen can confirm that I was there yesterday."
"And what about last night?"
Leaf grinned again. "I've got the best backup for that."
He pointed to a corner of the living room, directing Limbo's and Samba's attention to a small device overlooking the room.
"Is that a camera?" asked Samba.
"Yup. I've got security cameras set up in every room in my house."
"Geez, never took you for the paranoid type," Limbo commented.
"I'm not paranoid," Leaf sneered. "I just like messing with tech stuff. The first thing you've gotta learn about people like me is that we do things not necessarily because we have to, but simply because we can. The point is, these little guys can clear me of any suspicion."
"Alright, let's see it," Limbo requested.
Leaf shrugged, gesturing for them to follow him upstairs. "Sure. Come with me."
He lead them to the second floor, where there wasn't much aside from a few doors, likely his bedroom and maybe a bathroom. There was also another camera positioned in the corner to keep an electronic eye on the upstairs hall.
Leaf directed them to the only door on the right side of the hall. Inside appeared to be a modest office space, mostly decorated with more gadgets and electronic parts. On one wall was a desk and a computer. Computers weren't terribly common throughout Equestria just yet, with most used primarily by businesses. Any commercial computers available to the public were pretty expensive, but one could assume Leaf's connection to Mango Career might have had something to do with him having one himself.
Leaf sat at the desk, switching on the computer. The monitor lit up, displaying the few programs he had on the computer's desktop. "I've got a backlog of my security camera footage for the past month. I can show you if you want."
"Just the past month?" Limbo questioned suspiciously.
"The computer only has so much storage space. The footage takes up a lot of memory, so I had to delete some of the older records to make space on the hard drive and—"
Limbo waved her hoof disinterestedly. "Yeah, yeah, geeky tech mumbo jumbo, whatever. Can you just show us the footage from last night?"
Leaf rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure."
He clicked a file on the screen, opening a video feed from a security camera positioned above his front door that neither of them had noticed when they arrived. The time stamp on the footage displayed the current date and time.
"So, this is a live feed right now," Leaf explained.
He clicked a button and began cycling between the many cameras throughout his house, showing brief glimpses of the living room, kitchen, bedroom, even his basement. He eventually stopped on a feed of the room they were in, showing a live feed of their backs.
Samba glanced back over her shoulder to the camera in the corner of the room, then back to the computer screen. "That's a little weird."
"Now, here's the recording from last night."
Leaf brought up a video of the front door camera again, this time displaying the scene at night through a night vision mode. He scrubbed back through the footage to the point where he returned home that afternoon, showing him arriving at his front door at around three thirty p.m.
"Town hall closes at five p.m., so Mayor Highstrung and Bubble Gust would've still been there at this point," Leaf reiterated. "And you said they were working late, right? So they were there even later than that."
Leaf then began to go through the pieces of the footage from throughout the rest of the evening, showing that he never left the house for the remainder of the day.
"And what about late last night?" Limbo asked.
He switched to the bedroom camera, scrubbing ahead to when he tucked himself into bed and let the footage fast forward through the night. "See? Nothing."
"Hang on." Limbo pointed at the screen. At approximately three a.m., Leaf had gotten out of bed and left the bedroom. "What's up here?"
"I had a lot of coffee that evening, so I went to use the bathroom," he explained. "I can show you the bathroom footage if you really need it."
"Uh, n-no that's okay. I'll take your word for it," she replied awkwardly.
"Well, you can see I came back just a minute later anyway," he pointed out, showing him returning to bed very soon afterward.
"I guess that settles that," said Samba with a smile. "Not that we were really accusing you, Leaf. This was just a formality."
"I know, I get it. And, you know, you're really starting to sound like a detective yourself, Samba," Leaf complimented.
Samba blushed bashfully. "You think so?"
"Sure. Guess Limbo's rubbing off on you, for better or worse," he laughed.
"You're lucky I'm not actually a cop anymore," muttered Limbo as she sipped her coffee.
Leaf frowned sympathetically at Samba. "Still, it must've been rough discovering Gust's body like that. I can't imagine how I would've reacted if I was in your position."
"It could've been worse, I guess," Samba said modestly. "If I had been there alone, I might have been too panicked to even think about calling the police."
"Not that it'd be any different if you had," Limbo mocked with a roll of her eye. "They weren't getting much done from what I saw."
"Give it rest, Limbo," Samba reprimanded. "The point is, I'm just glad that Limbo, the mayor, and even Mandible were there. It felt like there wasn't really any pressure on me."
Leaf quirked an eyebrow. "Speaking of, how's Mandible's thing going anyway? Any luck?"
"We haven't really had a chance to look into it yet, what with Gust getting exterminated and all," Limbo answered.
"We think that her brother's disappearance might be related to the Ghost, though," Samba explained. "So she's definitely been helpful in that regard.
Leaf leaned back in his chair, mulling something over. "Man, it's starting to sound like the Ghost is responsible for every crime in this city."
"Granted, that's just speculation on our part," Limbo clarified. "But the evidence seems to be pointing to the Ghost being connected to Mandible's situation. Admittedly, the Ghost being involved with Gust's death is more of a long shot, but seeing as Mango Inc. is the connecting thread here, I'm insisting on looking into it anyway."
"All of this means that the Ghost is starting to get sloppy, though," Samba stated confidently. "That must mean we're on the right track."
"Which could also mean that the Ghost might just become more dangerous, right?" Leaf postulated. "If they're that desperate, what's to stop them from threatening to hurt people to get you to back off?"
"They kidnapped Poe, and that hasn't deterred me," Limbo stated with steadfast resolution.
"But how many lives need to be put in danger before you start being a little more cautious?" he asked.
Limbo stepped forward adamantly. "Backing off isn't gonna solve anything. I need to catch the Ghost as quickly as possible so they can't hurt any more people."
Leaf held up his hooves to try and calm her down before she got too belligerent. "Alright, I get it. I'm just saying, maybe think about everypony's well being, not just those in immediate danger."
"I don't need somepony lecturing me about that after the stuff I've been hearing lately. Besides, I always put everypony's well being before my own. I have nothing of value to lose compared to everypony else, so thinking about my own safety would just be a hindrance."
Samba stared at Limbo with a small frown, silently pitying her.
Leaf just shrugged. "Whatever. I always knew you were too stubborn for somepony to change your mind, but I figured I'd try anyway."
"I get where you're coming from, Leaf, but I actually agree with Limbo," said Samba. "We can't just let the Ghost do whatever they want."
He sighed with a shake of his head. "I know I said Limbo's rubbing off on you, but maybe you should think about what that means exactly."
Samba's ears drooped as she turned to Limbo. The detective didn't seem at all fazed by this conversation. Her resolve and her ideals were unwavering.
"Well, anyway, I think we need to get going to see your brother," Limbo dismissed as she downed the rest of her coffee, laying the empty mug on the desk. "I'd thank you for the coffee, but I don't want to stroke your ego."
Leaf chuckled. "Whatever you say."
Limbo promptly took her leave ahead of Samba. The dancer lingered a moment longer, offering an awkward and apologetic grin.
"Sorry for wasting your time, Leaf. I didn't expect the conversation to head in that direction."
He shrugged. "Not like we steered it that way on purpose, so don't blame yourself. Good luck with your investigation. Hopefully Mango can shed some light on this."
"Same." Samba finished off her cup of green tea, smiling appreciatively. "The tea was great, thank you."
"Your welcome. At least one of you has manners," he laughed. "And don't be a stranger. I'd like to say you and me are friends now, right?"
Samba giggled. "Yeah, of course. Just remember: you said it, not me, so don't complain about being in the friend-zone later."
"I'll try not to cry myself to sleep at night," he said jokingly as Samba left to catch up to Limbo.
***** ***** *****
Once more, Limbo and Samba found themselves standing at the gate to the gardens surrounding Mango Incorporated headquarters, the tall, glass tower looming over them. Samba felt a pit in her stomach just looking at it.
"Do you still think Career is involved in this?" Samba asked Limbo, mostly as a way of taking her mind off of the dizzying height of the building.
"It's hard not to think so. Wick Nimble, the Spellmet, Gust's death and the missing records. And considering the way Career's been acting during this whole debacle, all the signs are starting to point in this direction."
"You don't actually think... Career's the Ghost, do you?" Samba inquired quietly and hesitantly.
"At this point, we can't rule out the possibility. I've got a weird feeling in my gut, but I can't tell if that's my intuition, or Leaf's coffee. Whatever the case, we need info out of Career, stat. This whole investigation pretty much hinges on what we can get from him now."
"I know he's been acting kinda suspicious, but I just don't see how it could be him. Why go through the trouble of stealing his own invention at the Magi-Tech Expo?"
"We've already theorized that the heist may have been an elaborate misdirection, but that is a lot of trouble to go through just to mess with the authorities. Career would have no reason to go to such lengths unless he was just a cocky jerk hole who wanted to watch us run in circles—which, in all honesty, wouldn't surprise me too much."
Samba was about to speak again, but spotted something past Limbo. She tapped the zombie detective on the shoulder and diverted her attention. Walking down the sidewalk with purpose in his step was Night Owl, the slotted pupils of his golden eyes locked onto Limbo as he approached.
Limbo grimaced with displeasure. "Great, looks like we didn't get here as fast as I would've liked. See, this is what happens when you engage in idle small talk," she grumbled to Samba.
"Well, excuse me for being a considerate person," she responded sarcastically.
Owl lifted his nose at Limbo, cocking a curious eyebrow. "You're just getting here? I figured you'd've made a beeline for this place while we were cleaning up."
"Well, unlike you lot, I like to cover all my bases," Limbo quipped.
"Career's brother?" Owl inferred.
"Obviously."
Owl nodded. "I was going to pay him a visit myself eventually, but I consider Career higher priority at the moment," he told her with a needling sneer.
"You think I don't know what I'm doing?" she snipped back.
"I know that you're an acquaintance of his, so I don't exactly know if you'll be one hundred percent objective with him."
"I think you know me better than that."
"Unfortunately, that's true."
"Can you two stop, please?" Samba pleaded. "We're here for the same reason. I know you guys have your differences, but I also know you still respect each other. So can you both just put your prides aside and focus on what's important?"
Limbo and Owl stared at one another for a moment in silence. Limbo was the one to break said silence. "So, how'd things go after we left? Any new info?" she asked, eliciting a small, relieved smile from Samba.
"Not much," he said with a shrug. "We mostly just confirmed what the mayor told us: every record pertaining to Mango Inc. employees and related individuals has been stolen."
"All of them?"
"Every last one. If this were the Ghost—like you seem to be thinking—I feel like it would make more sense to just destroy the citizen records in their entirety. Taking only what the thief did is only pushing us in one direction."
"Which could be the entire point," Limbo speculated. "At this point, I'm starting to think that the Ghost is toying with us."
"That'd be a deviation from how the Ghost has operated in the past, assuming that the Ghost is tied to all of this at all."
"I get the feeling we'll figure that out sooner rather than later. Samba was the one who pointed out that we're pushing the Ghost into a corner, so they're starting to get a little desperate."
Samba tried to hide her proud grin, but the bashful blush in her cheeks didn't help. Thankfully, Limbo and Owl were too busy with their discussion to notice.
"I guess it was just a matter of time before the Ghost slipped up," Owl conceded. "You keep kidnapping people and eventually you're gonna overlook something or leave evidence behind. Even somecreature as crafty and meticulous as the Ghost isn't perfect."
"Speaking of imperfection, should we badger Career for info?"
Owl smirked. "S'why I came here."
"Like old times." Limbo daintily held out her hoof with a facetious smile. "Then shall we?"
Owl swatted her hoof away with a grimace. "Don't push it."
Limbo and Owl started through the gardens toward the tower. However, Limbo paused, noticing something was missing. She glanced over her shoulder to find Samba still standing on the sidewalk, staring up at the glass monolith. "Samba, what's the hold up?"
The dancer gulped, cracking a shaky smile. "Um... As much as I'd like to join you, m-maybe I should sit this one out. You and Owl can probably handle this without me, right? Please say yes."
Owl quirked an eyebrow at her blatantly nervous behavior, turning to Limbo for an explanation.
Limbo simply shrugged. "Up to you. I mean, you could wait in the lobby and chitchat with 'Buster Chops.'"
Owl gave her an odd look. "'Buster Chops'?"
Samba took one more look at the building, its peak seemingly touching the clouds—or at least her brain was tricking her into thinking it was. "N-Nah, I'm good. Think I'll just, uh... head home for now. Maybe give Mandi and call and hang with her until I've gotta head to work tonight," she chuckled awkwardly. She turned to walk away, waving to the pair of law enforcement officers. "Good luck. Catch you guys later," she bid them before trotting off rather quickly.
"What's with her all of a sudden?" Owl inquired.
Limbo waved the query off dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Let's just go."
Owl shrugged, letting it go and accompanying Limbo into the building. They made their way across the seemingly endless expanse of white toward the elevators where Quad Blast was once again standing guard.
The burly earth pony offered an affable nod to Limbo and Owl. "Mornin', Detective. Back again, Sergeant?"
Owl responded with a curt nod.
"What's my name?" Limbo asked out of nowhere with a playful smirk.
Quad clammed up, blushing with embarrassment.
"Ignore her. I have more I need to ask Career," Owl told him.
Quad's eyes shifted back and forth awkwardly.
"Alright, we ain't doing this bit again," Limbo groaned impatiently. She glared sternly at Quad. "We need to talk to your boss. Now, I know you don't remember names, but you still remember what happened last time I was here, right?"
"You mean when I popped out your shoulder?"
Limbo stiffened up, glancing toward Owl from the corner of her eye.
"Oh, really?" Owl said with an amused smirk in Limbo's direction.
If she could blush, Limbo's face would be beet red right now. "D-Don't listen to him. His memory's crap."
"Names is the only thing I don't 'member well," Quad reiterated.
"I wouldn't mind hearing that story," Owl snickered.
"C-Can we stay focused please?" Limbo insisted, doing her best to maintain her dignity. "Just let us through so we can talk to your boss. You remember that we're allowed through at least, right?"
Quad nodded. "Yep. But the boss ain't in a good mood today, just to give you a head's up."
"Doesn't matter," said Owl. "We need to talk to him as soon as possible. If anything, his foul mood could work in our favor."
"Think so?" asked Limbo.
"We'll see."
Quad stepped aside to give them access to the elevators. "Head on up."
Limbo and Owl stepped into one of the two glass elevators, riding it all the way up to the eightieth floor to Mango Career's office. When they made it there, they found Career sitting at his desk with his head in his hooves, looking even more disheveled than the last time Limbo had seen him a couple of days ago.
Upon hearing the elevator arrive, Career listlessly lifted his head, putting on his brand new pair of glasses as he prepared to shoot an aggravated glare at whomever it was that had chosen to disturb him. His mood did not lift in the slightest when he saw the detective and the police officer approaching him together. If anything, their presence only served to frustrate him further, groaning quietly and doing everything in his power to not slam his head against his desk. He cast an impatient glower at his two visitors.
"What do you want?" he practically growled.
"Cup of coffee'd be nice," Limbo quipped.
Career narrowed his eyes at her.
"You're not helping," Owl chastised her.
Career shook his head. "Look, things've been stressful for me lately. Haven't you asked me enough questions today, Sergeant?"
"Unfortunately, no," Owl told him bluntly.
The unicorn glanced at Limbo. "Didn't we agree that I'd call your assistant if something came up?"
"First of all, you still haven't, which tells me that you haven't really done anything since we last spoke," Limbo stated judgmentally. "Second, something has come up. On our end at least."
Career sighed in exasperation. "Alright, what is it?"
"You remember Bubble Gust, right?"
"Mayor Highstrung's secretary? Yes, why?"
"She's dead."
Career's eyes widened suddenly. "Dead? Are you sure?"
"We can fit her inside an envelope in her current state, so, yeah, pretty sure."
Career let his shock dissipate, quickly reverting back to his sour disposition. "I'm sorry to hear that, but—at the risk of sounding apathetic—how does this involve me aside from improving my odds in the election?"
Owl stepped forward to explain. "To be concise, we've determined that Miss Gust was likely murdered by a thief, as many citizen records were also missing from her office, all of which are related to people working for, or connected to you and your company."
"Which includes your files," added Limbo.
Career grimaced at the pair, his ire visibly building. "I sincerely hope you did not come here to accuse me of murder on top of everything else I have to deal with right now."
"That depends and what info we can get here today," Limbo told him.
Owl gave her a reprimanding nudge. "Considering we believe that the Ghost is somecreature under your employ, we can't rule out the possibility that the theft and Miss Gust's murder are connected to the Ghost in some way."
Career arched an eyebrow at his wording. "'Somecreature'? I thought you were certain it was a changeling."
"New evidence has come to light," Limbo informed him. "It's more than likely that the Ghost is not a changeling."
A slight sigh of relief escaped Career's lungs. "Well, that might be the first piece of good news I've heard since the expo."
"Unfortunately, if that is in fact the case," Owl continued in his companion's stead, "it means we have to expand our search to include all of your employees, including the changelings, just in case."
"And that's not all," said Limbo. "We also believe that the device stolen at the expo wasn't the first one that the Ghost nicked."
"But how does that make sense?" questioned Career. "Why go through the—"
"Alright, I've answered this question enough today," Limbo groaned. "Probably to upgrade to one of the newer prototypes. That's the best theory we've got so far. That, or just to set up an overly-elaborate misdirection."
"The reason doesn't matter in the short term," Owl asserted. "The point is, we need to determine if that's actually the case. That will mostly prove whether or not the Ghost is a changeling."
"You said all of the old prototypes are stored in the R&D department here, yeah?" Limbo recalled. "Mind if we have a quick look-see?"
Career sighed, clearly exhausted, but stood from his desk reluctantly. "If it'll help with the investigation and theoretically take some of the pressure off me, then fine. Follow me."
The three ponies rode the elevator back down to the fortieth floor. There they were greeted by a busy workspace of various creatures diligently working. Many were sitting in front of computer screens and tweaking code, others were tinkering with spellphones and other devices, others still were gathered around and discussing ways to improve quality or cost effectiveness.
None of this interested Limbo in the slightest. Instead, she glanced around the spacious room, looking for her objective. "So, where do you keep the prototypes?" she asked impatiently.
Career lead them to across the room, his employees pausing what they were doing to watch curiously to see what their boss was doing and why he was accompanied by a pony in uniform and a mare with an eyepatch. They stopped in front of a walled off room—one of the few rooms in the building not encompassed by glass. It was large enough to be an office on its own, but the word "STORAGE" was painted onto it. Career opened the door and lead Limbo and Owl inside.
Upon seeing the interior, Limbo immediately had flashbacks to the storage room at the Magi-Tech Expo. The room was an absolute wreck, with all sorts of odds, ends, and doohickeys littered all over the place with no sense of organization at all. Shelves were lined with a variety of seemingly unrelated gadgets and spare parts, cords and cables were just laying in heaps on the floor, and Limbo even spotted a few empty cans of soda left behind by absentminded employees.
"How do we even know the prototypes are in here?" Owl inquired as he gawked at the mess.
"They're here," Career assured him. "It might be a little messy, but I know where the Spellmets are."
He began rummaging through some of the over-stacked shelves, eventually unearthing one of the prototypes that had been buried like an ancient fossil.
"I think your organization system needs some reworking," Owl commented with a grimace.
"We're busy revolutionizing the way people live their lives. Time spent cleaning this mess is time we could be spending bettering Equestria."
"The logic of a grade schooler whose parents keep telling them to clean their room," Limbo quipped.
"They do say children are the future," Owl added. "Some of them just look like adults."
"I really don't appreciate the snide remarks, Officer," Career sneered.
"The faster you dig up those prototypes, the sooner we'll be out of your hair," Limbo told him.
Career rolled his eyes grouchily, passing the first prototype Spellmet to Limbo. "Here. Just hold this while I keep looking."
Limbo took the Spellmet, but held it at hoof's length like it was a dirty diaper. This was an earlier prototype, so it looked even more ridiculous than the one she'd seen at the expo; exposed wires, metal frame, less flexibility, and even L.E.D. lights sticking out of it like a Hearth's Warming decoration instead of the glowing bands in the most recent version. Limbo's brain immediately equated it to an alien brainwashing device, or the electrode cap off of an electric chair.
Still, as horrendous as the thing looked, Limbo had to acknowledge its significance, even if she didn't know how it worked exactly. She stared at the rings that were designed to fit around the wearer's horn. "So, only people who have horns can actually use these things, right?"
"With the current designs, yes," Career answered as he continued to sift through the debris. "As it stands, the wearer needs a conduit through which the Spellmet can detect their magic. Even those with funnel horn or broken horns can still channel their magic, and that little bit is still enough to activate the device's recording and replicating mechanisms. I won't go into the details of how it all works, as I doubt you'll be able to grasp it without knowledge of engineering, programming, and the arcane arts."
"It sounds like you're trying to insult me, and I hate that you're right," Limbo grumbled. To retaliate, she slipped the Spellmet onto her head. "I just want you to know how dumb this thing looks. Do I look like a clown in this thing, or what?"
"As I stated at the Magi-Tech expo, we haven't finalized the design quite yet," Career reminded her without even looking to acknowledge her point. "We have concepts for what we want the end product to look like, but it's a matter of effectively combining function and form, and we haven't quite figured that part out yet. We do hope to eventually make a version of it that can be used by anycreature—earth ponies, pegasi, bat ponies, zebras, etcetera—but that's a far off goal right now. We likely won't figure that out before the Spellmet's initial public release, so, for now, we're focusing on magically-impaired individuals as the target audience."
"Hm. That sucks, but it's something. I might be giving you flak for how it looks, but I'm not gonna say it ain't an amazing invention," Limbo admitted. "It'd be pretty cool to see earth ponies using magic. Right, Owl?"
Owl didn't respond. He was just staring at the Spellmet on Limbo's head, a puzzled look on his face.
Limbo quirked an eyebrow at him. "Um, I know it looks stupid, but you don't have to act that disgusted."
"You said only somecreature with a horn can activate the device, right, Mr. Career?" Owl asked for clarification, not removing his eyes from the Spellmet.
"Yes, wh—"
Career turned around, but hesitated the moment his eyes landed on the Spellmet. The tiny, colorful lightbulbs decorating the device were flickering weakly, despite the fact that there was no horn inserted into its sleeve.
"How...?" Career breathed, his jaw slacked in disbelief. "You're an earth pony. The Spellmet shouldn't be reacting to you."
Limbo stiffened up, casting a nervous, sidelong glance toward Owl. He was staring in confusion at her, his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to piece something together. She was starting to think it might be a good idea to remove the thing before Owl got too suspicious and figured out what was going on with Limbo's brain.
"Um, I-I'm gonna just take this off before it short circuits and fries my brain," Limbo stuttered awkwardly as she pulled it off and passed it back to Career. "S-See? This why you should clean this place every now and then. All the dust and crap has probably caused, like... corrosion or something. The thing's obviously malfunctioning."
Career took the prototype back, his eyes briefly shifting between it and Limbo. "Hmm... Perhaps you have a point. I'll see what I can do about that. In any case, I have the other prototypes here."
Career removed a series of Spellmets he'd gathered from the mess with his magic, clearing off a shelf and placing each of them upon it. Some looked identical to one another, while others had slightly different, more efficient designs—for lack of a better word.
"Okay, so counting the one that was stolen from the expo, you've made fifteen prototypes so far, is that right?" Owl inquired.
"No, there are sixteen. Granted, some are duplicates made for additional testing. The stolen Spellmet was labeled as a version six prototype. But the remaining fifteen are versions one through five and the spares we made."
"For somepony who was boasting about engineering and programming before, you don't seem to be good at counting," Limbo commented. "There're only fourteen Spellmets here."
Career blinked, looking over the devices lined up on the shelf and recounting them. Indeed, there were only fourteen Spellmets there. "Wh-What? That can't be right. There are sixteen in total, I'm positive." He analyzed what they had in front of them in a slight panic. "O-One of the version threes is missing. I-It must be in here somewhere!"
Career began to frantically dig back into the mess, tossing stuff all over the place in a desperate bid to find the missing Spellmet.
Owl, meanwhile, let out a long sigh. "Guess that clinches it. You were right, Limbo."
"As if there were any doubt. But just this once, I won't rub it in your face."
"Appreciated," he deadpanned bemusedly.
Career turned back to them, puzzled by their conversation. "But how could you have known about this?"
"Like we said when we arrived, new evidence has come to light," Limbo repeated. "We suspected that the Ghost has actually had one of your prototypes for some time now."
"Th-They have?"
Owl nodded. "How old are these version threes exactly?"
"Um... Th-The first prototype version three was developed a few years ago at this point."
Limbo and Owl shared knowing glances.
"Around the time the kidnappings started," Limbo stated.
Owl shot a harsh glower towards Career. The unicorn took a step back, vexed by the accusatory look.
"What?"
Owl took a forceful step toward him. "So, you're telling me that one of your prototypes has been missing for upwards of three years and nopony here noticed?"
"Y-You don't know that for sure!" Career argued defensively. "It could've gone missing recently!"
"Why would the Ghost bother to go after an old model when there were three newer models available?" Limbo added doubtfully.
Career gulped. "M-Maybe one of my employees has it and is... making some adjustments?" he posited, though sounding very uncertain.
"You mean the employees that you have thus far refused to interrogate since the theft at the Magi-Tech Expo like we requested of you?" Owl reminded him sternly.
"I've been buried under a figurative ton of problems and have been dealing with a lot of stress since then!" Career shouted, growing angry and indignant. "I have a company to keep afloat! I have an election to prepare for! My younger brother has been pressuring me about our relationship!"
"None of that means anything to me," Owl snarled, baring his short fangs at him. "You've given the Ghost a weapon and a motive to kidnap those people. They went missing due to your negligence!"
Career glared back just as harshly. "You are not seriously blaming me for the Ghost's actions, are you?!"
"You might have been an unwitting accomplice, but you've also done nothing to help fix the problem either, even after being told by both myself and Owl." Limbo reiterated. "And let's not forget that you somehow still found time in your 'busy and stressful' schedule to go volunteer at a soup kitchen. Commendable, but given your circumstances, maybe not very responsible."
Career grit his teeth furiously. "I cannot believe I'm hearing this! This is slander! You cannot treat me as though I'm as bad as somecreature who kidnaps people!"
"You might not be as bad, but you're also not any better," Limbo stated seriously.
"You've been willfully uncooperative, disagreeable, and, quite frankly, acting like a whiny, entitled child since your little toy went missing," Owl chastised.
"I am not listening to any more of this hogwash! I want you two out of my building immediately! Don't make me call security!"
Owl didn't budge. In fact his expression became even more intense, his slotted pupils narrowing as though fighting back the urge to pounce aggressively. He spoke once more at Career, his voice low and guttural. "Mango Career, you are under arrest for obstruction of justice."
Career's eyes widened in shock and rage. "What?! You can't be—"
"You have the right to remain silent," Owl continued. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
Career stomped forward, prodding Owl belligerently in the chest with his hoof. "This is outrageous! You can't do this to me! I am your future may—Ah!"
In the blink of an eye, Owl grabbed Career's hoof, twisting him around and shoving the businessman to the ground. Limbo just watched quietly as her former colleague put his police training to good use.
"Anything you say can and will be used against you," Owl repeated more forcefully as a warning. "Don't make me add resisting arrest to the charges."
With a low growl and a defeated huff, Career stopped struggling, but still did his best to shoot an icy glare over his shoulder at the cop.
Owl looked up at Limbo. "Grab my cuffs."
Limbo did as she was instructed, retrieving Owl's hoofcuffs from his belt and slapping them on Career's front legs. Owl then pulled him up from the floor and began escorting him out.
The employees working within the R&D department had all halted whatever they were doing as soon as they heard the commotion coming from the storage room, but none of them had been expecting their boss to emerge in cuffs. Owl paid them no mind and just nudged Career along to the elevator, contacting his subordinates via his radio to request a carriage back to the station.
Limbo followed along, but paused to observe the shocked and confused faces of Career's employees. She cleared her throat a little awkwardly. "So, uh, good news. You might be getting a long weekend."
A long yawn echoed through the empty apartment as Samba lazily prepared her breakfast—or was it lunch at this point? Either way, she didn't care. All she knew was that she was tired and hungry. She just stood in the kitchen, blankly staring at the toaster, watching the filaments gradually heat up and turn red.
It was hard to focus on anything right now. Work had been pretty hectic the previous night, and Samba—as one of The Brewery's few late night staff members—had to actually skip a performance in order to serve drinks. Even so, she felt like she'd worked up a bigger sweat serving drinks than she would have dancing.
It certainly didn't help that her mind had been preoccupied by what those extra patrons were talking about all night.
Samba wasn't entirely surprised when she never saw Limbo again after parting ways at Mango Incorporated headquarters. Based on everything she'd heard last night, Limbo was probably pretty tied up. Thankfully, she was able to kill time by hanging out with Mandible after she'd come crashing down from her caffeine high.
She was a little surprised to find that the detective hadn't returned even now, though. Samba had awoken this morning expecting to find Limbo sprawled out on the couch and Webber deliberately making a mess of her apartment with his webs to screw with her. But her apartment was completely barren when she got up, save for herself. Needless to say, she had a lot of questions for Limbo when she did get back.
Regardless of all the stuff on her mind, Samba still had difficulty keeping her eyes open. A long, busy night at work, all the questions that had been raised, and even the anticipation of her plans today all added up to a rather sleepless night. She was eager for what today held for her, but right now, her somnolence and concern over everything else made for a sour cocktail that she couldn't really stomach without something to help her detox. A sobering conversation with Limbo might do the job.
Samba's eyes nearly drifted shut. Thankfully, the whistling of her kettle, coupled by her toast popping up at that exact moment, jerked her back to attention. She yawned, grabbing her jars of peanut butter and blueberry jam, haphazardly slapping the spreads on her toast, and wasting no time chomping into one of the crunchy slices. She poured up her tea, adding an extra helping of sugar to help keep her eyes pried open.
However, before she had a chance to transfer her breakfast to the dining table, the door flung open abruptly, causing Samba to nearly spill her tea. She watched in silence as Limbo practically stumbled her way inside carrying a cup of coffee, her heavy hoofsteps threatening to break through the ceiling of the tenant on the floor beneath them.
Limbo sauntered over to the kitchen table, dropping against its wooden surface and immediately flipping her eyepatch up. "Out, Webber," she demanded grouchily.
Webber did as instructed and slinked out of her eye and onto the table.
Samba just sighed through her nostrils, shoving what was left of her toast aside for when her stomach unknotted itself. She eyed up the weary detective curiously. Limbo was just laying there with her head on the tabletop, looking like she was ready to punch a hole in the wall.
"You feeling alright?" Samba asked, though was pretty sure she had an idea of what was up.
"I'm tired," Limbo answered simply, knocking back a large gulp of the coffee she'd brought home with her.
"You're a zombie. You don't get tired," Samba pointed out.
Limbo shot a single icy dagger at her with her bemused glare. "Exasperated. That better?"
Samba nodded in understanding. "I get it, but I hope you don't mind if I ask about this." She grabbed the newspaper that was on the table and tossed it to Limbo.
The zombie took a single glance at the front page, immediately noticing the photo of herself and Night Owl escorting Mango Career into the police station in hoofcuffs. "How'd they get this printed so quick? We haven't even publicized why we arrested him yet. Is the newspaper just a glorified gossip column nowadays? Sheesh."
"I was hearing about this all night. Apparently a bunch of Mango Inc. employees decided to drink themselves stupid last night because they were worried about what this meant for their jobs. So, yeah, busy night for me."
Limbo glowered grumpily at her. "You ain't one-upping me. I was literally awake all night because of this. Me and Owl were drilling Career for info into the wee hours of the morning."
"Why, though? What did he do? I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that you don't think he's the Ghost, or else you'd be in a much better mood this morning."
Limbo just planted her face on the table, lazily waving a hoof at her dismissively. "Do we have to go over this now? I just spent hours interrogating a belligerent millionaire and got basically nothing out of it. My mood is about as rotten as my innards right now."
"Well, I am your assistant. I'd appreciate being kept in the loop."
"Then maybe you should've come with us."
Samba scowled with a slight blush. "You know very well why I didn't."
Limbo groaned. "Alright, whatever. I'm keeping it brief, though." She at up straight and cleared her throat. "Turns out you were right on the money about the Ghost already having one of those devices. One's been missing for, like, three years or so and Career's been too far up his own butt to notice. Owl had enough of him dancing around the problem and blatantly ignoring the more serious issues in favor of his own interests. And to answer your previous question, no, we don't think he's the Ghost. But his actions have inadvertently been aiding the Ghost, and his attitude has been hindering the investigation, so he's under arrest for obstruction of justice."
"And you got nothing from him after spending all day and night interrogating him?"
Limbo shrugged. "I don't even know what we were expecting. We arrested him because he refused to question his employees. He was being deliberately ignorant to protect his and his business's reputation." She looked at the newspaper article again. "Let's see how that goes now that he's behind bars."
"How many years did Owl give him?" Samba asked curiously and with a little worry.
Limbo rolled her eye and scoffed. "Pfft. Like he'll be in there for even one. He's really just being detained because he's getting in the way. He'll probably be released once we get enough info from his company. That, or he'll just pay the bail money. He can certainly afford it, but I doubt Owl will accept it until he's satisfied by where the case is going."
Samba flashed her a smile. "Whatever the case, it's nice to see you and Owl working together instead of constantly butting heads."
The zombie narrowed her eye at her. "What's my relationship with Owl matter to you? I hope you ain't tryin' to play matchmaker, 'cause I ain't interested."
Samba giggled knowingly at her response. "I know, I know. It's just that it always seemed weird to me that you spoke so poorly of people you used to work with to make this city a better place. I know you and Owl have a mutual respect for each other, it's just neither one of you wants to admit it."
Limbo turned away with an indignant grumble. Samba would've expected her cheeks to be flushed if her heart was still pumping. "I have no idea where you got that from. Owl might be the most competent member of the force, but he's still a dink." Despite that, an almost imperceptible smile crept its way onto her lips. "Still, it was interesting to actually be on the same page again after such a long time. And one thing I can say about those goons, despite how inept they are sometimes, is that they know their way around a cup of coffee. And, not gonna lie, as exasperating as my whole day was, it was kinda fun to catch up with old colleagues again. I had no idea that Hole Punch had a kid now."
"That's good to hear. Maybe you can reconcile after all is said and done."
"Let's not get crazy here. Solving the Ghost case won't instantly cure their idiocy, or make Owl any less of a knob. I ain't going back to the precinct and begging to rejoin the force. I can already see the smug smirk on Owl's stupid face," Limbo muttered with a disgruntled grimace.
Samba continued to grin, choosing to drop the subject so as not to agitate Limbo further. "Whatever you say."
"Anyhoo, I guess the plan for today is to head over to Mango Inc. and shake down as many employees as possible for info. After yesterday, Owl's finally got a fire lit under his butt, so the B.P.D. are actually doing their job for once. Mango Inc. H.Q. is gonna be swarmed with cops like hornets attacking a beehive. Seeing as I'm a good sport, I'm thinking we head over there and give 'em a helping hoof. Celestia knows they'll need it."
Samba frowned regrettably. "Um, actually, I can't go with you today."
Limbo blinked, as though the notion sounded foreign to her. "What? Why not?"
"This is my monthly weekend with Pira. Rhapsody's bringing her over soon, and she's gonna be staying with me for a few days."
Limbo suddenly looked like her heart had been crushed. "But... you said working with me was your way of making yourself a better person and a better mom."
Samba knit her brow at her. "Yeah, but Pira's my daughter. I know I'm not a good mom, but I still love her more than anything else. Rhapsody got custody in the divorce, so I don't get to see her as often as I'd like." Her expression softened again. "Besides, this is my chance to see if I have improved. She's too young to understand that there's a difference between a friend and a parent. Ironically, Rhapsody might say the same thing about me..." she sighed remorsefully. "So, sorry, I have to put my hoof down on this. My daughter takes priority."
Limbo's ears flattened against her head. "Oh... Hrmm... I just... feel like we've made such a good team, you know? This case wouldn't be where it is now if not for you."
Samba was flattered by Limbo's words, and that gave her more confidence that she had indeed changed at least a little since meeting her.
"It just wouldn't feel right going without you."
"You went without me yesterday."
"Yeah, but all we did was get Career out of the way and confirm your hypothesis about the other missing Spellmet."
Samba observed the dejected look on Limbo's face, not unlike a child denied their playtime. She felt bad about having to temporarily abandon Limbo after she was so insistent on being her assistant. But, she thought she might have a solution.
"Why don't you just take a day off?"
Limbo lifted her head, arching a befuddled eyebrow. "Huh?"
"Yeah, just take today off from the investigation, maybe the whole weekend. Like you said, Owl and the B.P.D. are actively on the case now, right? Just let them do their jobs and sit back and take a well-deserved rest for once. You've been working tirelessly on this case since I've known you. It can't hurt to just, you know... relax once in a while, can it?" she asked with a reassuring smile.
Limbo hesitated. She'd heard the term "workaholic" used to describe her in the past, mostly by her former coworkers. She'd always just accused them of being lackadaisical and having no work ethic, but it was Samba who was now putting that into perspective. The idea that she was just sitting around and relaxing when the Ghost was still out there made her feel a little antsy, but Samba had a point: Night Owl and his crew were actually doing their jobs for once. And considering that they were all on the same page now, perhaps she could just trust them to handle the situation at Mango Inc. and investigate the workers there. Then she could just ask for an update on any new info later.
With just a little more pensiveness, Limbo managed to crack a smile. "You know what? Sure. Why not? I can't remember the last time I willingly took time off. Even when I do, I'm always keeping my ear to ground. Maybe I'll just shut my brain off for once and mellow out. Just promise to keep an eye on me in case I go limp, 'kay?" she laughed
Samba giggled happily. "Sure. I'll just puppet you around so people'll think you're still alive."
"So, when's Pira getting here anyway?"
Samba opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. She smiled eagerly. "Right now by the sound of it."
Limbo briefly glanced down at Webber. "Might wanna duck out, buddy."
Webber heeded her advice and skittered off toward Samba's bedroom to hide.
"I swear, I better not find any webs or fly husks in there by the end of the day," Samba warned the spider as she headed toward the door.
She took a deep breath. Knowing who was on the other side of the door, Samba wanted to make sure she was wearing the most reassuring look she could manage. She knew how Rhapsody was whenever he dropped Pirouette off at her place. She might describe him as overbearing sometimes, but maybe it was more a case of herself being underbearing. Either way, she didn't expect this month to be much different than the rest.
Samba opened the door. As expected she was greeted by the rather neutral expression of her ex-husband's face, but that was partially offset by the adorable and excited grin on her daughter's face.
"Hi, Mommy!" Pirouette greeted with a chipper chirp, jumping up and hanging off of her mother's neck with a tight hug.
"Hi, Pira," Samba said lovingly, using a leg to support the filly and take some of the weight off of her neck.
Pirouette didn't hang on long, though, as she quickly noticed the forest green mare sitting at the dining table. She gasped with glee, releasing her mother and rushing over to the kitchen. "Lady Limbo!"
"What's up, squirt?" Limbo greeted, tousling the little filly's curly locks.
With Pirouette preoccupied, Samba turned her attention back to her ex, her smile persisting, though a little weaker. "Hi, Rhapsody."
"Hey."
For a moment, Samba frowned slightly at his rather indifferent greeting, but managed to force her smile back onto her face. "How are you?"
He shrugged. "Fine. We've got a date for Pira's entrance exam. Two weeks from now, I'll be taking her to Canterlot."
Genuine happiness graced Samba's lips. "That's great! I bet she's so excited."
"Yeah, I anticipate some sleepless nights coming up," he chuckled. "And I know she'll want you to come with us. So, you know, if you're not busy..."
"Yeah, of course. After all, I've got some pull over there now," Samba giggled jokingly.
Rhapsody just laughed quietly, but his mirth died down quickly, glancing toward their energetic daughter who was munching on her mother's leftover toast as she conversed with Limbo. "Anyway, you know the drill by now, right?"
Samba nodded confidently. "Yep. No snacks after supper; bedtime is strictly at eight; make sure she brushes her teeth; not too much fast food for meals... Um... Am I missing anything?" she asked meekly.
Rhapsody stared sternly at her. "Let me see your phone."
Samba stiffened up, suddenly realizing what he was getting at. With a nervous gulp, she passed him her spellphone.
Rhapsody opened her contacts list, noticing only his own number alongside Luster Dawn's and, for some reason, Mango Career's—that was a question for later. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Where are the emergency numbers?"
"I know the emergency numbers," she told him defensively.
"It'd give me more peace of mind if you had them on your phone already. I know what you're like. In an emergency, you tend to panic. I don't know if I trust you to remember a phone number if something happens to Pira."
"Even if I didn't, Limbo's here."
"You know very well that that's not the point I'm trying to make. I'm adding the numbers to your phone. Hospital... Fire department... Police... Poison control..." he rattled off as he entered the numbers.
"Is poison control really necessary?"
"Are you forgetting the time you left your lipstick open on the coffee table?"
"She was one. I'd like to think she's old enough to know better by now," Samba retaliated, her face rather flushed in frustration.
"I could say the same for the one who left it out with a one-year-old in the apartment."
Samba snatched her phone back from him indignantly. "She'll be fine. If you knew about the stuff I've had to deal with recently, you might change your tune."
He quirked an eyebrow. "What kind of stuff?"
Samba hesitated. She wasn't sure if she wanted to divulge the fact that she'd discovered a dead body yesterday. "Nothing. She'll be fine. Can't you just trust me for once? Limbo's gonna be with me all weekend too, so there's nothing to worry about."
Rhapsody cast an uncertain grimace toward the detective. "Uh, I'm not really sure how I feel about her just yet. A little brazen for my tastes. Maybe try not to let her influence Pira too much."
Samba glowered adamantly. "Limbo's a good person."
Rhapsody just shook his head with a sigh. "Sure. Anyway..." He removed the saddlebags on his back, passing them to Samba. "All of her stuff is here. Toothbrush, hairbrush, her favorite blanket. And her books. I know you can only do so much because of your funnel horn, but I'd appreciate it if you would help her study."
Samba nodded, donning a smile once more. "I will."
"There're some coloring books and crayons in there too, in case she gets tired of studying," he added. He looked to the kitchen to call out to the filly. "Pira, Daddy's leaving now."
Pirouette hopped down from her chair, hurrying over to give her father a brief hug. "'Kay! Bye, Daddy," she said before hurrying back to the kitchen to continue her conversation with Limbo.
"I'll see you Sunday, Samba," Rhapsody said as he waved goodbye. "Call me if you need something."
"Yeah. Bye." Samba waved back as he made his way back down the hall, closing the door behind him.
With a somewhat somber sigh, Samba traipsed her way to the kitchen to join Pirouette and Limbo at the table.
Pirouette stood up excitedly on her chair. "Mommy! Lady Limbo caught the bad guy!"
Samba glanced at Limbo, befuddled. "You did? When was this?"
"I just told her about the arrest we made yesterday, that's all," she answered simply.
"I don't know if I'd label him a 'bad guy,' per se."
Pirouette tilted her head in confusion. "But why would she put somepony who isn't bad in jail?"
Samba hesitated, unsure how to explain this to such a young filly. "It's... complicated, Pira. Sometimes... people do bad things without even realizing it."
Pirouette's ears drooped shamefully. "Like when I spilled all your perfume?"
Samba had to hold back a small smile. "Uh, kind of, I guess."
The filly turned to Limbo pleadingly. "Am I gonna go to jail?"
Limbo pretended to mull it over for a moment. "Eh, I'll give you a warning just this once. But try not to let it happen again, okay?"
That was enough to do away with any guilt Pirouette may have felt. "Okay!"
"I think I'd rather you didn't talk about this kind of stuff around her," Samba requested. "And you're supposed to be taking some time off. Maybe don't think or talk about work for awhile. Just relax, alright?"
"Yeesh, you're basically asking a fish to stop swimming," Limbo grumbled. "But, whatever. I'll try."
Satisfied by her compliance, Samba prepared to sit down again, but spotted her half eaten toast on the table. "Looks like I need to make another breakfast," she giggled, grabbing a couple of extra slices of bread and dropping them into the toaster. "You want anything, Limbo?"
She flicked her hoof dismissively. "Nah, I'm good. My gut's still trying to break down the mountain of donuts I shoved in my gullet last night."
"Why would you eat that many?"
"Because they were there," she stated plainly. "What, am I just supposed to not eat them?"
"Can we haff donuds for bweakfasht, Mommy?" Pirouette asked eagerly despite the mouthful of peanut butter and jelly toast already in her mouth.
"I don't think your dad would like that. And besides, you're eating my toast right now, greedy guts," she responded with a playful grin.
Limbo observed as the little filly hungrily devoured her mother's breakfast, scattering crumbs and dollops of blueberry jelly all over the table. "So, what do you two usually do during your weekends together?" she asked as she sipped her coffee.
"Whatever Pira wants usually. So you'll have to ask her."
The detective flashed an interested smile at the filly. "Alright, so what's on the itinerary, kiddo?"
"She's asking what your plans are, Pira," Samba clarified. "What do you want to do today?"
She stood up on her chair excitedly. "I wanna meet Princess Twilight!" she exclaimed, beaming expectantly at her mother.
Limbo turned to Samba to see how she'd respond to such an outlandish request.
Samba frowned apologetically. "Pira, Princess Twilight went back to Canterlot. It was just a one-time thing."
The filly visually deflated. "Oh..."
"You still have Luster Dawn's number, right?" Limbo reminded her, causing Pirouette's ears to perk up slightly.
"She didn't give me her number so I can hit her up whenever I fancy, especially if it's to ask to talk to the princess. People usually have to make appointments to meet Princess Twilight. And besides, you'll probably get to meet the princess yourself when you go to take your exam," she told her daughter. "You can wait two weeks, surely."
Pirouette pouted, but didn't argue.
"Just pick something else, okay?"
The child took a moment to ponder her options. "Can we watch a movie?"
Limbo grinned herself at the suggestion. "Ooh, that sounds fun. Whaddya think, a good slasher flick? A murder mystery? Zombie apocalypse?"
"Oh! Zombie movie, yeah!"
"How do you even know what a zombie is, Pira?" Samba asked suspiciously, her stern gaze shifting to Limbo.
"Hey, don't look at me," Limbo reacted defensively.
"Well, whatever the case, no zombie movies. Or anything else that Limbo suggests. I don't need to give Rhapsody any more reason to chew me out. But we can go and see what's playing. Maybe there'll be something kid-friendly." She reached into the saddlebags Rhapsody had given to her, removing a filly-sized toothbrush. "Go brush your teeth and wash the PB&J off your face, then we'll get going, alright?"
Pirouette grabbed the toothbrush with her magic and a chipper grin before galloping off to the bathroom.
"She's certainly a little bundle of energy," Limbo commented.
"Yeah, it can be difficult to keep up with her enthusiasm," Samba said with a sigh as she prepared a second helping of peanut butter and jelly toast for herself.
Noting the slight exasperation in her response, Limbo mulled over her next question carefully before asking. "Do you have any difficulty with her when she stays with you?"
Samba looked back at her, knowing what she was getting at. "I've said before, I'm not exactly Mom-of-the-Year material. Luckily for me, she's a smart kid for her age. I pretty much just have to keep an eye on her and keep her fed for the weekend."
"Like a foalsitter."
Samba's expression fell a little. "Yeah, I guess..."
Limbo, realizing what she'd inadvertently done, backpedaled quickly. "N-Not that that's all you are to her, of course! She obviously loves you a lot more than she would a simple foalsitter."
"I know you didn't mean anything by it, but you're still right. I love Pira with all my heart, but I can't do much for her outside of keep her company while her dad takes a break."
"I think you're coming down on yourself a little too hard, but then again, I don't know much about being a parent. Plus, I blame Rhapsody for putting those thoughts in your head. Based on everything I've seen, you seem to be taking his words a little too close to heart."
"It's only because he's right," Samba sighed somberly.
Limbo knit her brow defiantly. "Maybe I'm not the best person to be giving out relationship advice, but I think you should focus more on your relationship with Pira instead of your relationship with Rhapsody."
Samba quietly let Limbo's words swirl around in her mind as she spread her condiments of choice onto her toast, taking a listless bite as she thought about it.
But the conversation was interrupted when Pirouette wandered back out, her toothbrush in her mouth and her muzzle covered in minty, green froth. "Mommy, there's a big spider in your bedroom."
Samba quirked an eyebrow. "What were you doing in my room? You're supposed to be cleaning yourself up." She suddenly paused, her eyes widening. "Uh, wait, what did you say?"
"There's a big spider under your bed. A really big, hairy spider with long legs," the filly repeated calmly.
Limbo stood up rather cautiously. "You, uh... You didn't squish it, did you?"
"Why would I do that?" Pirouette questioned innocently. "It looked scared. I didn't wanna hurt it."
Limbo couldn't help but smile, her still heart melting. "Aw, geez, how is this kid such a sweetheart?"
"Do we catch it and put it outside?" asked the filly. "I don't want it to bite us when we're asleep. It might poison us."
"Well... Um, first of all, it wouldn't be poison, it'd be venom," Samba corrected. "You get poisoned by eating something poisonous, but venom is injected through a bite."
Pirouette nodded. "Oh, okay."
"Are semantics really the biggest issue right now?" Limbo chastised with a grimace. "Why do you even know that?"
"I went to school. I might be a dancer, but that doesn't mean I don't know things," Samba argued defensively. However, her cheeks flushed slightly. "And... I have a lot of downtime during the day. So pardon me for wanting to teach my daughter something."
"So what do we do with the spider?" Pirouette asked again. "Is he gonna stay here?"
Limbo arched a curious eyebrow at the filly's nonchalant attitude. "You know, you're being surprisingly calm about this, Pira. Most people would freak out if they found even a small spider."
"I like spiders!" she chirped with a cute grin. "They're cool! They got eight eyes and can climb walls!"
"That's... true," Limbo uttered, unsure how exactly to respond to that.
Samba leaned over to whisper to Limbo, "How do we handle this?"
Limbo thought about it for a few seconds, but ultimately sighed in resignation. "I guess I don't see any harm in telling her the truth."
Pirouette leaned forward curiously. "What's the truth?"
"That spider's a friend of mine," Limbo revealed. "A bad person burned down my home recently, so he and I are living here with your mom for a while."
The filly's eyes widened with interest. "He's your friend? Your friends with a spider? That's so cool!"
"You wanna meet him?" Limbo offered.
Pirouette nodded her head rapidly with an eager smile.
"You sure about this?" Samba asked with uncertainty.
Limbo shrugged. "Little late to pull a U-turn now. Might as well." She looked down the hall, spotting Webber discreetly peeking out from Samba's bedroom. "Come on out, Webber."
Webber hesitated, but eventually scurried over to Limbo, giving the filly a wide berth as he passed. Pirouette watched with child-like wonder as the spider obeyed Limbo's order, the detective allowing him to crawl onto her hoof.
Limbo held the spider out to Pirouette. "Pira, this is my buddy, Webber."
Pirouette stared intriguingly at the spider, a wide grin stretching across her toothpaste-covered lips the longer she stared into Webber's eight eyes. "Hi, Webber!" she squeaked with excitement, the high pitch of her voice eliciting an uncomfortable wince from the spider.
"Try not to yell, Pira," Samba told her. "I think he's a bit skittish right now."
"Nah, he's just not used to meeting new people," Limbo corrected. "He's more anti-social than you think."
"He only knows three people now."
"Exactly. He's got no social life."
"My name's Pirouette," the filly introduced, her attention not shifting from the spider in the slightest, and vice versa.
Webber didn't really react.
Limbo rolled her eye at her buddy's reticence. "Look, are you really gonna let a kid intimidate you? Relax, would ya? She already said she didn't want to hurt you."
Webber stretched out his legs a little, shifting away from his more defensive posture.
Limbo grinned. "That's better. Hey, wanna hold him, Pira?"
Pirouette hopped in place. "Yeah!"
"Limbo, I don't think Rhapsody would approve of you letting a spider crawl around on our daughter," Samba scolded.
"Who cares? You know Webber. He's not venomous, and even if he was, he'd never bite anypony without reason."
Samba sighed, shaking her head. "Just be careful with him, Pira."
Pirouette eagerly held out her hoof to Limbo's. Webber hesitated just a little before crawling onto the smaller, purple hoof. The spider took a moment to acclimate to the child, but Pirouette stood very still, only staring in awe at the arachnid perched on her hoof. Feeling a little more comfortable now, Webber slowly crawled his way up the filly's leg, over her shoulder, and onto her back.
"Hehe, it tickles," she giggled.
Samba wasn't entirely sure how to react. She just turned to Limbo with a genuine question. "Is my daughter weird?"
"Weird is good. Nothing wrong with weird," Limbo assured her as they watched the filly giggle in amusement at the spider crawling around on her. "Alright, I want you to promise me something, Pira."
She stared quizzically back at her. "Promise what?"
"A lot of people don't like spiders, or are scared of them. So maybe don't tell anypony that you're friends with a spider. Keep it a secret, okay? Can you promise me that?"
Pirouette didn't question the request, simply nodding. "Promise."
Samba was now starting to notice the small pool of saliva and toothpaste dripping onto the carpet. "Okay, that's enough goofing around. Go finish brushing your teeth and cleaning up so we can head out, okay?"
"Okay!" Pirouette let Webber back onto her hoof and gently returned him to Limbo before prancing off to the bathroom.
Limbo grinned amusedly at the spider. "Maybe you're not as much of a wallflower as I thought, Webber." She quickly glanced down the hall to make sure Pirouette wasn't watching, then lifted her eyepatch for Webber. "Alright, get in."
After a few minutes, Pirouette returned, skipping out to the living room to join her mother and Limbo in the living room. As they prepared to leave, she looked around curiously. "Where's Webber?"
"He's taking a nap," Limbo lied. "You can play with him when we get back, okay?"
"Okay!" she chirped as she skipped out the door. "Oh, can we bring him back a snack so he doesn't feel left out?"
Limbo turned to Samba with barely restrained smile. "How have you not had a cuteness-induced heart attack already?"
***** ***** *****
Considering that it was only a little after noon on a Friday, there weren't a ton of people taking time out of their day to go see a movie. That night would likely be a lot busier, though, so at least it wasn't hard to find a seat during the day, and the audience was a lot quieter as a result. So, when the movie was over, a modestly-sized group of movie-goers emerged from the theatre, either riding the high of their enjoyment, or shuffling out in disappointment depending on the individuals' tastes in film.
Samba, Limbo, and Pirouette were a mix of emotions.
"That was awesome!" Pirouette exclaimed, hopping excitedly around on the sidewalk.
"It was pretty good," Limbo somewhat agreed with an indifferent shrug.
"It was a lot more violent than I expected," Samba expressed.
"It's a superhero movie, what'd you expect. They literally fight crime," said Limbo.
"I'm just surprised that that constituted a P.G. rating."
"Studios use loopholes and workarounds all the time to lower the ratings of their movies based on technicalities," Limbo explained. "Movies tend to perform better at the box office when the rating is lower because it broadens the potential audience."
"Still, I thought the Power Ponies were supposed to be kid friendly. And I don't read comics or anything, but is the story supposed to be that hard to follow? They were talking about stuff that had nothing to do with the movie."
"Each of the Power Ponies had their own movie already that established their backstories. You're expected to have seen those already to understand what the story is and what the characters are about."
Samba grimaced at her explanation. "If I had known that, I might have suggested we postpone this until tomorrow. Doesn't help that this was the closest thing to a kid's movie they were showing today."
"Well, hey, Pira seemed to enjoy it," Limbo pointed out, watching as the filly attempted to mimic some of the moves the superheroes displayed in the movie.
Samba stared at her exuberant daughter with a little uncertainty and regret. "Maybe I shouldn't mention this to Rhapsody. I'm not sure what his stance is on the kinds of movies Pira watches."
"You need to stop letting your ex walk all over you. Just do what makes your kid happy."
"Shouldn't a parent balance being kind and being tough?"
"How should I know? I don't have kids," Limbo answered with a shrug. "I never said that you should take my advice, I'm just offering it."
"And that's the best piece of advice you've ever given."
Samba and Limbo turned to find Loose Leaf walking toward them.
He chuckled with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't catch the beginning of your conversation, so I don't actually know what you're talking about. How's it going?"
"Not bad. Pretty relaxed day so far," Limbo answered. She tilted her head to the theatre right next to them. "Just watched a movie, so, you know, good start."
"Cool, cool." Leaf's eyes landed on the little filly. "That's your kid, right, Samba?"
"Hm?" Samba followed his gaze to find Pirouette huddled behind her, staring back at Leaf warily. "Oh, yeah, this is Pirouette. Say hi, Pira."
"Mmm..." Pirouette gripped her mother's tail, partially concealing her face behind the silky hair.
Samba grinned. "Sorry, she's a little shy when strangers talk to her. Did the same thing when she met Limbo."
"That's good," Leaf said with a nod. "Trusting strangers can be dangerous. She's a smart kid."
"You don't have to tell me," Samba agreed proudly. She gently coaxed Pirouette out of hiding, gesturing to the smiling Leaf. "It's okay, Pira. This is Loose Leaf. He's Limbo and Mommy's friend."
Leaf waved affably, trying to do his best to ease the child's concerns. "Nice to meet you, Pirouette."
"H-Hi," she returned quietly.
Leaf briefly glanced at all the movie posters along the wall of the theatre entrance displaying which films were currently being shown. "So, you just watched a movie, huh? Which one did you see?" he asked Pirouette.
At the mention of the movie, any reticence remaining within Pirouette dissipated quickly, replaced by a toothy and ecstatic grin. "Power Ponies! It was so cool!"
"Oh, yeah? That's great. You know, I used to read the Power Ponies comics when I was younger. Kinda fell out of it as I got older, but I still remember those stories fondly. So, whose your favorite Power Pony?"
"Radiance!" she answered without a second thought.
"Radiance, huh? And why's that?"
"'Cause she can make stuff with her magic, like me!"
Pirouette demonstrated her claim by lighting up her horn with dark blue magic. With no lack of effort, a strand of magic swirled up from her horn, forming into a small, undulating ball that eventually shaped itself into an ethereal pigeon flapping its wings soundlessly.
"That's pretty cool," Leaf complimented. "I can see why you identify with Radiance. I've always looked up to the Masked Matterhorn myself. As a kid with funnel horn growing up, I idolized people who were so skilled with magic."
The magical pigeon dissipated, a sudden look of concern coming over Pirouette. "You have funnel horn too? Like Mommy?"
"I used to. Not anymore though," he answered.
"Can you teach Mommy how to use magic?"
Everypony fell silent for a moment, Leaf and Limbo glancing at Samba, and a regretful look came over the dancer's face. The question sounded so innocent coming from a small child like her, but there was a genuine sparkle of cautious hope in Pirouette's deep blue eyes, as though this was something very important to her.
Leaf smiled softly at the filly. "You really love your mom, don't you? Well, unfortunately, it's not that simple. Everpony's trigger for funnel horn is different."
"But Mommy's gonna help me study, so she might learn too!" the filly chirped optimistically.
"We can hope, right?" Leaf chuckled.
"Let's not get carried away," Samba insisted with doubt and defeat in her voice. "I'm just helping her study, not necessarily practice. Pira's already way better with magic than other foals her age, let alone somepony who can't really even use magic like me."
"You know any other spells, Pirouette?" Leaf asked.
The filly kicked her hoof against the sidewalk sheepishly. "Mmm... Not really. I can lift stuff and make little balls of light."
"You're going to Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, right?"
She nodded her head so enthusiastically her face was practically a blur.
"Her exam's in two weeks," Samba mentioned. "You can probably tell she's excited."
"That's not a lot of time to learn new spells, though," Leaf pointed out. "Is one impressive spell going to be enough to ensure she gets in?"
Pirouette's ears drooped, suddenly looking nervous. She turned to her mother for reassurance.
Samba gently draped a hoof over her daughter's shoulder, pulling her in close with a smile. "She's a talented filly. I have faith in her. And from what I understand, the entrance exam mostly gauges raw power to determine a student's potential. From there, they teach them the sorts of spells they want to learn. Still, though, going in with as much practice and as many spells as possible wouldn't hurt."
"Well, if you really want to help her practice, you could always just pay Mango Inc. a visit and finally try out one of the Spellmets," Leaf suggested. "Maybe it'll work for you like it did for me."
Pirouette glanced between her mother and Leaf curiously.
Limbo grimaced awkwardly at the suggestion. "Probably not a good time for that."
"Yeah, and speaking of which, I'm surprised you're being so peppy today, Leaf," added Samba with a sympathetic frown.
The stallion sighed with a roll of his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I heard all about that. Honestly, if Mango could keep his head on straight for five minutes, this wouldn't've happened."
"You don't sound too concerned," Samba remarked.
"I'm not, believe me," he responded, disgruntled by the thought. "I love my brother, but he kinda had this coming. And that's not just me being bitter about familial stuff. Besides, he can just pay his way out of this and everything will just go back to normal and nopony will have learned any lessons."
"You ain't wrong, but he's not going anywhere until Owl's done with him, trust me," said Limbo. "And at this rate, that could be a while."
"Wait, what happened?"
The three adults jumped with a start at the sound of the nasally voice chiming in. They were more than a little surprised to find Mandible standing right next to them, casually slurping a cup of soda.
"Jeez laweez, how long have you been standing there?" Limbo asked in bewilderment.
"Literally the whole time," she answered nonchalantly, continuing to sip her drink. "I was in the theatre with you guys. You didn't notice?"
Limbo and Samba just blinked, utterly baffled.
"Uh, no," answered Samba. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I didn't wanna be rude. I don't know how things normally go in pony theatres, but I thought you weren't supposed to talk during movies."
"Huh. You know, I had considered giving you a call and inviting you to come with us, but then it just slipped my mind," Samba mentioned. "I guess some things have a way of working themselves out."
"Well, I might head back to my hotel now anyway," Mandible said, her sight shifting between Samba and Leaf. "You probably wanna spend time with your boyfriend."
"I told you, he's not my boyfriend," Samba corrected indignantly.
"Then why's your face so red?"
"It's not!"
"It totally is," Limbo chuckled.
Samba sighed in defeat, looking to Leaf pleadingly. "Please tell her we're not a thing."
Leaf sighed himself, though with an amused grin. "We're not a thing," he told Mandible.
The changeling just shrugged. "You could've just said so from the beginning."
"I did! Ugh..." Samba shook her head, frustrated and exasperated by the topic. "Nevermind. The point is, you can hang with us if you want. We're just taking it easy today."
Mandible quirked an eyebrow. "I thought you guys were supposed to be looking for my brother."
"We were, but things are complicated right now," Limbo told her. "We suspected your brother was a victim of the Ghost, we suspect the Ghost is somepony who works for Mango Inc., and now the founder and C.E.O. of Mango Inc. is under arrest."
"Hmm... Sounds like a big spider's nest of secrets."
"So you see where things're getting all tangled up, right?"
"I guess."
"Don't worry, the cops are investigating Mango Inc. as we speak," Samba said with a reassuring grin. "So it's not like progress isn't being made. Limbo's just been working herself to the bone on this case lately and needs a break."
"That's all assuming that the Ghost is responsible for her brother's disappearance," Leaf mentioned. "You don't know that for sure yet."
"Psh, you're starting to sound like Owl," Limbo grumbled.
"Look, we don't need to talk about this now, do we?" Samba interjected. "I already told you, Limbo, this is your time off. Don't spend it talking about work."
Limbo took a long breath, for how much it actually helped a person who didn't need to breath. "I can't make any promises on that front, especially when we're so close to cracking this nut. I might be a little antsy."
"I know what'll take your mind off of it," Samba asserted with a confident smile. "How about some coffee from the vendor you like? You know where he sets up, right?"
"Ooh, I was just thinking the same thing!" Mandible agreed. "Maybe you and me are surfing the same measurements, Samba."
Samba felt a tug against her leg. She glanced down to find her surprisingly silent daughter looking up at her with slight confusion.
Now that she'd gotten her mother's attention again, Pirouette whispered to her quietly. "Wh-What does... 'surfing the same measurements' mean?"
"I think she meant 'wavelength,'" Leaf explained.
Pirouette blinked, turning back to her mother with the same quizzical look.
"It just means we think alike," Samba answered.
"So, we getting coffee, or what?" Mandible reiterated impatiently.
Samba eyed her up, recalling the last time the changeling bought coffee from that vendor. "Um, maybe you should stick to decaf this time."
"This the same guy I've heard Limbo going on about some mornings?" asked Leaf.
"I keep telling you to check him out," said Limbo. "His stuff will make your iced coffee taste like distilled sewer water—which, let's face it, is basically what it is already."
Leaf responded with an unfazed smirk. "You're one stubborn dame, aren't you?"
"Just follow me. He usually sets up near the mall on Fridays."
Limbo began to guide the group consisting of three adult ponies, one foal, and one changeling down the street toward their destination, a little extra pep in her step knowing what awaited her there.
As they trotted, Samba noticed Pirouette huddling close to her, keeping her mother positioned between herself and the unfamiliar changeling now accompanying them. Knowing full well the reason for her trepidation, Samba addressed Mandible. "I guess I should properly introduce you to my daughter, huh?"
"I was there when you introduced her to Leaf. Heard all that stuff about her being good with magic and stuff. Wish I could do those sorts of things." Mandible peered down at the filly eyeing her up from behind her mother, flashing a friendly smile with her short fangs. "Hi, Pirouette. My name's Mandible, but you can call me Mandi if you want."
Pirouette looked up at her mother for assurance.
"She's a friend. You don't have to be scared," Samba told her softly.
Pirouette stepped out from behind Samba more confidently, flashing her own cute grin back at Mandible. "Hi, Mandi! I'm Pirouette, but you can call me Pira!" she parroted with an enthusiastic chirp.
"Doesn't take much to warm her up to new people, does it?" Leaf commented.
"Guess she just trusts her parents' judgment," assumed Limbo.
Pirouette's exuberant gaze shifted between Limbo, Leaf, and Mandible. "I didn't know you had this many friends, Mommy."
Samba grimaced slightly at the comment.
Limbo stifled a snicker. "Was that a low-key burn from your own daughter?"
"I guess most of my friends are people I only met in the last couple of weeks. Tap might be the only exception, and Pira hasn't met him."
Pirouette returned her attention to Mandible. "You're a... changer, right?"
"Changeling," Samba corrected her.
Mandible nodded. "Yup. You ever met a changeling, Pira?"
The filly shook her head. "I seen 'em around, but I never talked to one before."
"Try to be respectful, okay, Pira?" her mother warned gently.
"Relax, she's probably just curious," Mandible said with a dismissive wave of her hoof.
"You can turn into ponies, right?" Pirouette asked eagerly.
"I can turn into a lot of stuff. Ponies, griffons, kirin, dragons, even inanimate objects."
"It's a pretty versatile ability from the sounds of it," Leaf commented.
"Yeah, but that versatility is the reason why there are strict laws in place about shapeshifting in public," Limbo mentioned.
Pirouette visually deflated. "Aww, I wanted see her change into something."
Mandible looked a touch heartbroken by the filly's disappointment, staring pleadingly at Limbo.
The detective just rolled her eye. "It's not that big a deal. You're just showing a kid a magic trick for a sec."
Having received the local authority's permission, Mandible happily demonstrated her inherent ability, her body becoming momentarily wreathed in emerald magic. When the magic subsided, Pirouette was now standing face to face with an exact duplicate of herself.
"That's so cool! It's like having a twin sister!" Pirouette exclaimed as she stared at her own face without the aid of a mirror.
"Twice the cute. Can't really complain about that," Limbo chuckled.
"How's it feel to have twins?" Leaf joked.
"I can barely raise one. I'd have been an absolute wreck if I had had twins," Samba muttered.
Mandible quickly changed back to avoid receiving any suspicious looks from passersby. She smiled herself at the sight of the wide grin on the filly's face. "You know, shapeshifting can be pretty fun when you have a reason to use it. Too bad I can't do it freely around here."
"Especially considering that a local kidnapper is making use of that spell to steal people away," Limbo reminded her.
"Limbo."
The detective stared at the corrective look Samba was giving her.
"What did I say?"
"I can't help it if it just comes up naturally in conversation," Limbo argued.
"That did not come up naturally."
"Whatever, 'Mom,'" Limbo groaned in annoyance.
"Don't give her too much crap," Leaf chimed in with a smirk. "She's an old dog now, stuck in her ways."
"I'm twenty-eight, whippersnapper," Limbo bit back. "I'm not browsing brochures for retirement homes just yet."
"Hey, I'm on your side here. Given what my brother's going through, the topic is pertinent to me."
"Oh, yeah, you still never told me what was up with that," Mandible interrupted. "What happened to your brother, Leaf?"
"He got arrested for hindering the investigation of the Ghost," Leaf explained with a judgmental grimace.
Limbo lifted her hoof to add an addendum. "Just to be clear, Owl arrested him, not me. You know, in case you were looking to pin blame. It was his decision."
"I'm more upset with Mango. I don't want to believe he's just another corporate bigwig who only cares about money and his business, but this whole debacle with the Ghost—and the Spellmet for that matter—has kind of exposed his façade. Maybe being put behind bars for a bit will set him straight."
"Based on what I saw last night, I don't see that happening," Limbo muttered under her breath.
"Your brother some kinda large chunk of cheddar or something?" asked Mandible.
Leaf stared at her for a moment, a bit puzzled as to how she hasn't put it together. "Uh, I assume you meant 'big cheese,' but, yeah. I mean, his name's Mango. As in, Mango Incorporated. I'm sure you've heard of it," he assumed, gesturing to the spellphone strapped to her leg.
She glanced down at her phone, her eyes widening slightly. "He's that Mango? Huh. Wait, so the guy who invented spellphones... That guy's your brother?!"
Leaf just shrugged indifferently, not wanting her to make a big deal out of it.
"Whoa, crazy. I wouldn't've ever guessed. Then again, I don't think I've ever seen a picture of him, soooo..."
"Don't judge me based on him. We're very different people, save for our interests in technology."
"I know if my brother was a big deal like that, I'd be bragging about it to everycreature," Mandible giggled.
"You close with your brother, Mandible?" Leaf asked curiously.
"Oh, yeah. My bro's my best friend. We were inseparable when we were nymphs. Even as adults we're basically joined at the thorax. You know, 'til he decided to go shoe shopping in Equestria."
"Any reason you never went with him?" he inquired further. "If you were that close, I would think you'd want to experience this with him."
"One of us had to pin down the castle," she answered.
"You live in a castle?!" Pirouette squeaked in shock.
"I think she meant 'hold down the fort,'" Samba corrected. "She needed to stay home to take care of the house."
"Yeah, that. See, me and Ped lived together too. We couldn't just both leave when we have bills to pay. But he always wanted to see Equestria, and, as a good sister, I encouraged him to go and do it."
"What about you?" Leaf continued. "I know you needed to stay home, but have you ever wanted to explore new places too?"
"Not as much as Ped," she responded with a shrug. "It's definitely cool to see this place, but I've never really been one who cared about collecting buckets. I'm more of a 'day-to-day' kinda gal. Maybe when Ped's done with all this and comes home, I'll think about it."
"Speaking of which, considering the situation your brother's in, I'm surprised with how calm and casual you've been this whole time."
"Of course I'm worried about him, but getting all worked up and junk isn't gonna help. Figured I'd tear up Ped's books and enjoy the sights while I'm here and let Detective Limbo and the cops take care of things."
"You're putting an awful lot of trust in them, aren't you?"
Limbo listened curiously. She would have expected that as a snarky comment from Leaf, but it wasn't directed at her, and he sounded surprisingly serious.
"Well, who else am I supposed to trust? I can't exactly go after a ghost myself. I don't have anything to deal with paranormal stuff." Mandible blushed a little. "And I'm... kinda scared of ghosts..."
"The Ghost of Baltimare isn't a real ghost, Mandi, we've been over this," Samba reminded her.
"But what if they are? You told me they know all kinds of magic, and nocreature's ever seen their real face. How do you know the kidnapper isn't a real ghost?"
"Because ghosts aren't real," Limbo muttered. "Besides, what would they need with Career's device in that case? Can a ghost use modern technology?"
Leaf shrugged. "Sorry if I sound pessimistic, but if I were in your position, I'd be worried sick about my brother."
"Your brother's in jail. You didn't seem too broken up about that," she commented.
"Because he brought that on himself," Leaf grumbled. However, he followed that up with a long sigh. "But at least I know he's okay. I'm probably going to go visit him later, assuming the cops are done interrogating him." He flashed a small smile to Mandible. "What I'm trying to say is that I admire that you can be this strong in the face of hardship like this. I'm not sure I could keep a level head in your specific situation."
The tinge of red returned to Mandible's purple cheeks, but more in bashfulness this time. "Oh. I-I don't know if calling me 'strong' would be right. Ped always thought I was just a bit of a ditz, and he's kinda right. I was never the shiniest lamp in the crate. I mean, I can barely dangle off of your pony idioms."
"There's nothing wrong with that," he assured her with a grin. "Honestly, being smart is overrated. Smart people tend to have big egos and use their intelligence to manipulate others. That's probably how the Ghost operates. If anything, being a little simpler makes you more relatable and trustworthy—no offence or anything."
Mandible turned away, her face turning even redder and her mouth curling into a goofy grin.
Limbo leaned over to whisper to Samba. "What's happening right now?"
"Shush," Samba instructed, giving her a corrective nudge as she stared intently at Leaf and Mandible during their conversation.
"And if it makes you feel any better about it, I like trying to piece together your twisted phrases. It's fun," Leaf told her. "And you don't really seem self-conscious about it or anything, which I can respect."
Mandible turned back to him, a genuine smile on her lips. "You're a really nice guy, aren't you, Leaf?"
"Well, I feel like we're kinda in the same boat right now, what with our brothers both being in tight spots. Obviously yours is in a more serious predicament, but, hey, if you need somepony to help take your mind off of it until this is all straightened away, I got your back."
Mandible continued to smile, her monotone, green eyes sparkling brightly. "I... appreciate that. Thanks."
By now, the group had arrived at the mall, and just as Limbo said, the roaming barista had his coffee wagon set up outside. They wasted no time ordering some drinks for themselves. Black coffee for Limbo, obviously, milk tea for Samba, a strawberry milkshake for Pirouette, an iced tea for Loose Leaf, and a decaf latte for Mandible. Samba also caved and bought a cinnamon bun for her daughter, even though she'd only just recently had peanut butter and jelly toast for breakfast and some popcorn during the movie—she wasn't going to mention that to Rhapsody, though.
None of them really had any interest in going into the mall, except for Pirouette, but for as much of a pushover as Samba was sometimes, she didn't exactly have the income to go on an impromptu shopping spree. So they just decided to find a bench outside the mall and loiter around for a bit until they thought of something else to do.
"Soooo... Anypony got any suggestions as to how to kill time?" asked Limbo. "I usually hit the movies during my downtime, but, well..."
"I usually take Pira to the playground during our weekends together, but I'd understand if none of you were interested," said Samba. "I don't want to make this outing just about us when we have company."
"Hey, I'm up for just about everything," Limbo replied with a shrug. "I haven't been to a playground since I was a kid."
"I wasn't exactly suggesting that we—the adults—use the playground. I think you're a little old for that now."
"Yeah, doi. I just think it'd be a nice trip down memory lane. Me and Poe spent a lot of time goofing around the playground at Waterfront." She laughed quietly as she thought about it. "I was a real showoff back then. Broke my leg when I was nine trying to go as high as I could on the swing set and jumping off at the apex. Wanted to see how far I could fly."
"Guess you haven't changed much," Samba quipped with a giggle. "I have witnessed the results of your attempts at parkour."
"In my defense, that jump did technically get me as far as the hospital. I just had to be carried the rest of the way. The parkour was just a catastrophic failure all around."
"Did it hurt?" Pirouette asked with a curious twinkle in her eye.
"What, when I broke my leg? I mean, yeah, obviously. It hurt a lot. But I've always been a pretty tough cookie," Limbo boasted smugly. "Didn't even cry. Poe laughed her flank off, though. She never let me live that one down."
Pirouette looked expectantly at her mother. "Can we go to the playground, Mommy?"
Samba responded with a stern gaze. "Do not imitate Limbo, please. And you." She turned to Limbo, causing the detective to draw back. "Don't encourage her. The last thing I need is to have to tell Rhapsody that our daughter broke her leg trying to mimic your reckless stunts."
"There's nothing wrong with being a little reckless," Limbo argued. "Builds character, toughens you up. You should know that full well, right?"
Samba grumbled quietly. She couldn't exactly say that her warning wasn't entirely hypocritical, but that didn't mean she wanted her daughter maiming herself.
"I can't tell sometimes if Limbo is a good or bad role model," Leaf joked with a chuckle.
"Were you gonna go with them, Leaf?" Mandible asked him.
Leaf scratched his cheek awkwardly, his face turning a little red. "Uh, that depends."
The changeling tilted her head, curious. "On what?"
He flashed her a smile. "Well, maybe this is a tad out of the blue, but I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner."
Mandible blushed deeply. "Huh? Are you... asking me out on a date?"
Samba observed intently, ears perked up.
Leaf's smile fell, replaced by an empathetic frown. "Bad timing, right? You're probably not in the state of mind to focus on a date right now, huh? I get it. You probably think I'm just trying to take advantage of your vulnerability for—"
"N-No, I'm not!" she assured him. Mandible smiled bashfully. "After everything you've said, I think that sounds like a great idea. I could use something—or somepony—to help take my mind off it."
Leaf sighed with relief, a smile returning to his face. "Alright, it's a date, then."
Samba clapped her hooves happily. "That's great! You two certainly seemed to be hitting it off well." Samba got up from the bench quickly. "Okay, we're going to go ahead to the playground so you two can enjoy your date. We don't want to be a 'tricycle,'" she snickered.
Mandible cocked a puzzled eyebrow. "A tricycle has three wheels. It'd be more like a..." she glanced between Samba, Limbo, and Pirouette. "What's a word for something with five wheels?"
"A... quincycle?" Leaf suggested uncertainly.
"Whatever, just enjoy yourselves. You both could use a little relaxation right now, I'm sure. Come on, Pira."
Pirouette hopped down with her milkshake and cinnamon bun in tow to follow her mother toward the park, waving behind her to her two new acquaintances. "Bye, Leaf! Bye, Mandi!"
"Bye, Pira. Nice meeting you," Mandible bid her back.
As Samba and Pirouette took their leave, Limbo was left standing there, a little flummoxed. She stared at Leaf and Mandible for a few moments as if searching for something to say, but found nothing. Eventually, she just flicked her hoof with a resigned grunt, making to follow Samba and leave the two new lovebirds to their own devices. It wasn't like she was interested in spectating their awkward attempts at courtship anyway.
The precinct of the Baltimare Police Department was practically dead silent. The only sound audible was the gentle dripping of the coffee pot as it filled itself once more. With everything that's been going on recently, one would think it'd be pretty darn busy around the cop shop, but nary a peep was to be heard. In fact, only one officer was currently even present.
Night Owl sat at his desk in the office of the chief of police, a stack of papers haphazardly strewn about in front of him. He just stared at those papers, a low, frustrated growl rumbling in his throat. Perhaps as an effort to distract himself from the puzzle before him for even a few moments, Owl turned his attention to the clock on the wall.
Five a.m. Of course there was nocreature there other than himself. The other officers were likely still in bed. Owl was the only one crazy enough to keep his nose in a case for this long—though he'd argue that "dedicated" was more apt a term. But it wasn't like he planned on this, it just happened that way. He'd been sitting there stewing about the case all night again, having completely lost track of time. And once his colleagues starting showing up for the day, he'd likely find himself even busier as opposed to getting a break.
As tired as he was, Night Owl's ears managed to perk up. He heard the sound of the precinct's doors opening, followed by hoofsteps. He highly doubted that it was any of his fellow officers; none of them were likely to even wake up before the sun was fully visible in the sky, let alone at the very crack of dawn. Which meant there was only one person it could possibly be...
Just as Owl suspected, in walked Limbo, sauntering over to his desk without a word. He watched as she silently pulled a chair over to his desk, seating herself opposite him. Her expression was rather unreadable.
"Where have you been?" Owl asked, breaking the silence in the station.
"I've been taking a brief sabbatical," she answered plainly.
Owl quirked an eyebrow suspiciously. "You? Taking time off? With everything going on?"
"Wasn't my idea," she grumbled. "Samba insisted I take the weekend off and let you guys handle all the hubbub at Mango Inc. I'm actually not gonna stay long. Samba tends to sleep in because she works late, but if she finds out I snuck out here, I'll probably get an earful."
"You whipped by your own assistant now?" he teased.
"Shut up. She had a point, that's all. I don't need to work myself to the bone when I can just let you guys do the heavy lifting."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"Can't help myself. I'm feeling a little left out of the loop. Just need to sate my need for info real quick. Coffee ready?"
Owl glanced over his shoulder to the coffee pot. It was indeed full, so he laboriously got up from his desk to pour himself and his guest a mug each. "There's not much info I can feed you, in all honesty," he told her as he delivered her coffee and sat back down with his own.
Limbo took a deep sip of the dark brew. "What have your people been doing over there, then?"
"Everything they can," he answered in their defense. "It's been a total circus over there from what I've heard. My people have been doing what they can to investigate everycreature there to suss out which of them is the Ghost. They're not having a lot of luck, obviously. And a company as big and influential as Mango Inc. can't exactly just shut down entirely, so some of them are basically helping out with security there for the time being since the Ghost might see this as an opportunity. So some of them are going to be heading back over there today, and others with be making the rounds to question anycreature not working today."
"Gonna be a little tough without the citizen records."
Owl shrugged. "Mango Inc.'s got their info on file, so it's no big deal."
"Guess the Ghost hasn't had the opportunity to meddle with the company's data with you guys around."
"We're not giving them the chance. But there's always the possibility that the Ghost has jumped ship already."
"You think we've pushed them that far?"
"Wouldn't surprise me. We've never knowingly been this close to the Ghost before, so I won't be shocked if our search leads us to somepony we can't find. And with the Spellmet, they could use changeling magic to assume a completely new identity someplace else and possibly start the cycle anew in another city."
Limbo groaned at the notion. "That would suck so much butt. And no doubt they'd let their victims rot too—assuming they're still alive now."
With the topic of the victims brought up, Owl decided to ask a question that had been on his mind. "So... That changeling girl, Mandible. Her brother was taken by the Ghost, right?"
"More than likely. There's an extremely strong chance that he was how the Ghost got access to shapeshifting magic, and how they were able to use it before stealing the newest version of Career's device."
"The missing version three."
"Precisely."
Owl closed his eyes for a moment, humming quietly in thought.
Limbo observed his pondering curiously. "Something itching in that brain of yours?"
"I want to confirm something. Come with me."
Owl stood from his desk, taking his coffee mug with him as he left his office. Limbo followed suit. Given that she used to work there herself, it didn't take long to figure out where he was leading her: the holding cells. And if she had to venture a guess, she assumed Owl wanted to ask some questions of the only individual locked up there currently.
Passing by the other empty cells, Owl and Limbo stopped before the only occupied cell. Within it, Mango Career lay asleep on the cheap cot within. Neither of them really had any sympathy for the selfish businessman, so Owl felt no guilt when he clanked his hoof against the iron bars to rattle him awake.
Career lazily lifted his head with a disgruntled groan, already prepared to shoot an icy glare over his shoulder. His mane was even more frazzled than the last time Limbo had seen him. Career didn't even bother to rise from his cot, just addressing the two with a low, disgruntled growl. "Have you not tormented me enough?"
"If I had, you wouldn't still be here," Owl retaliated. "Get up. I have some questions I want to ask."
Career hesitated, fighting to decide whether or not he wanted to follow the order. He glanced up at the barred window, seeing no sunlight streaming through yet. He laboriously rose to a sitting position. "What time is it?"
"Five," Owl answered tersely.
The unicorn rubbed his eyes with a groan at the response. "Couldn't at least wait until the sun came up? We're not all nocturnal, Sergeant."
"Save it. Just answer my questions and you can get back to sleep."
Career dragged himself off of his cot and put on his glasses, doing his best to straighten his disheveled mane before begrudgingly sauntering over to the bars. "Make it quick."
"You wanna lose the attitude?" Limbo warned him. "You're lucky I gave you a break yesterday."
"First question," Owl began before Career and Limbo could start at each other. "The Spellmets; are spells transferable between the prototypes?"
Career took a long, tired breath before answering the surprisingly simple question. "It's a feature we're looking into implementing, though it won't likely make it into the initial product. We should be able to add it to Spellmets that people will have already purchased via firmware updates, but the prototypes don't have any such functionality, no."
Limbo looked to Owl. "So, what's that tell you?"
"I think that gives us confirmation that the Ghost's victims are still alive. Or, at the very least, there's a higher chance that they are."
Limbo quirked an eyebrow, though there was no hiding the hopefulness in her single eye. "You think so?"
"If the spells can't be transferred between prototypes, then that means that the Ghost would need a way to record those on the new version they stole from the Magi-Tech Expo. As far as we're aware, there haven't been any kidnappings since Sizzle Conifer, so we may be able to assume that the Ghost kept their victims alive in order to copy their spells to the new Spellmet."
Limbo mulled over the theory for a moment. "Maybe, but that could also be why there haven't been any kidnappings since then. They may need some fresh victims."
Owl cast her a quizzical look. "Not like you to be so pessimistic."
"Every argument needs two sides to narrow down the possibilities."
"Given what we do know about the Ghost, it'd be naïve to think they wouldn't have known about that limitation of the Spellmet from the get-go. You agree?"
Limbo nodded. "I do. But the Ghost has a dozen victims at this point. The resources required to keep that many people alive for upwards to three years would add up to be pretty pricey."
Owl turned back to Career. "You pay your employees well?"
Career narrowed his eyes at him. "Are you insinuating that I don't fairly pay my staff? I make sure my employees are well taken care of. They are payed well above minimum wage, our minority staff are payed and treated equally, our dental plan is enviable, and I will even pay for excessive medical bills out of my own pocket if I heard any of them were unable to cover the cost themselves."
"Sounds pretty selfless on the surface, but a happy staff is a productive staff, yeah?" Limbo chided judgmentally.
"Don't try and flip my generosity as being self-serving, Detective," Career snipped back.
Limbo shrugged. "Just sayin'."
"All of this is to say that any employee of Mango Incorporated may have the money to feed a dozen people, especially if only given the bare minimum of what they need to survive," Owl stated.
An almost imperceptible sigh of relief escaped from Limbo's decayed lungs. As pragmatic as she had always tried to be in regards to the Ghost case, there was always a part at the back of her magically-sustained mind that was seriously worried about Poe's well being. This little tidbit of information was at least enough to give her some modicum of hope that she was still alive somewhere out there.
"Now, are you done badgering me, or do you have any other inane questions?" Career sneered.
"That's all I needed for now. Although, your attitude just secured you stale bread and tap water for lunch," the bat pony told him with a corrective glare. "Maybe you'll be a little more cooperative if you have to experience what the Ghost's victims are going through."
Career backed off, visually displeased.
Satisfied by what compliance he could get, Owl took a quick sip of his coffee before preparing to leave Career alone. "I'll be back later, so get some sleep. I'm not keen on interrogating a cantankerous brat."
Owl started toward the door. Limbo lingered for a second longer to give Career a mocking raspberry before turning to exit as well.
"Wait."
Limbo paused, looking back at Career as he peeked out from his cell. She cast a brief glance toward the door, Owl standing there silently, only giving a tilt of his head as a sign of permission. She sauntered back to see what Career wanted, noting that his aggravation seemed to have subsided for the moment.
"You're close with my brother, right?"
Limbo shrugged. "I guess so. Why?"
Career hesitated slightly, some remorse in his eyes. "How... How has he reacted to my circumstances?"
Limbo tilted her head, puzzled by the question. "What, you haven't been talking to him?"
The stallion looked equally confused by her reaction. "Well, no."
"That's weird. We were hanging with him yesterday and he said he planned on coming by to visit you."
Career sighed dejectedly. "I see. I suppose that just goes to show how far away I've pushed him, doesn't it? He's so fed up with me that he doesn't even want to bother visiting me after I get arrested."
"Well, to be fair, he may have had other things on his mind yesterday. Guess he never got around to it because of his date."
Career blinked. "He had a date?"
"Yeah, with a changeling girl named Mandible."
"The one whose brother was taken by the Ghost?" Owl chimed in from the door.
"The very same. She was with us yesterday too, and I guess she and Leaf kinda hit it off. Went their own way after a bit to have dinner. Haven't heard from either of them since, so I assume it went well."
Career shrugged listlessly. "I suppose I have no right to be upset with him. As long as he's happy. But in case he decides not to visit at all while I'm here, can you relay a message for me?"
Limbo lifted her nose at him. Judging by the pitiable look on his face, she already had a pretty good idea of what he wanted to ask. "Let me guess: 'I'm sorry.'"
He just let out another long sigh. "I wasn't going to put it in such simple terms, but that should still get the point across, I suppose."
"I'll let him know," she told him with strong indifference.
"Thank you."
With that settled, Limbo made to join Owl, the two heading back to his office and taking their respective seats once more.
"Well..." Limbo started with a sip of coffee. "Wasn't expecting him to get so soppy at the end there, but we got some nice info at least. Not sure exactly how it helps with the investigation, but it's still good to know that those poor people might actually still be alive." Another relieved sigh slipped through her lips. "Especially Poe..."
Night Owl stared across his desk at her. There was an ever-lingering question on his mind, and now that they've come this far, he felt the need to ask again. "Are you ever gonna tell me why the Ghost went after Poe?"
Limbo shot an irate glower over her coffee mug. "Why do you ask as though I know?"
"Because I know you do," he insisted. "She did something to get the Ghost's attention, but no amount of sleuthing on my part came up with any evidence as to what. You were the one who pointed out the Ghost's supposed motive, yet you never questioned Poe's disappearance."
"I thought we went over this. It was a threat. Need I remind you that the Ghost also burned down my apartment?"
"Yes, but Mayor Highstrung informed me that you had some citizen records at your place at the time. Records pertaining to the changeling employees at Mango Inc. So the Ghost may have just taken the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone."
"And how exactly would they know I had those papers?" she challenged. "You think the Ghost is spying on me or something?"
"I think that's a possibility we can't rule out," he stated calmly. "After all, the only people who knew the real reason why they kidnapped Poe are themselves and you."
"How many times do I have to repeat myself, Owl?" Limbo growled.
The bat pony clomped a hoof on his desk firmly. "And how many times have you charged headfirst into something based purely on a hunch? I ain't buying that crap anymore, especially since there's now a third person in your little circle."
Limbo arched a vexed eyebrow. "A third person? The hay you talking about?"
"Samba."
The detective's eye widened.
"Had a little conversation with her a while back. She admitted that she knows what's up with you."
Limbo's jaw dropped open slightly. On more than one occasion recently had she had a knife driven into her chest, but the feeling of cold steel plunging through her ribs was nothing compared to the emotional pain she felt upon hearing that.
"She confirmed my suspicions," Owl continued. "Poe knows some kind of spell that lead her to be targeted by the Ghost, and you told her what it was. Now, my next question is: why would you entrust this information to a complete stranger but not mention it to me?"
Limbo kept her lips zipped, just staring with a mixture of hurt and frustration.
"My best guess is that she happened to stumble upon this secret, which means that it is something that can be stumbled upon. And if that's the case, that would mean that whatever spell Poe knows, it has something to do with you."
Again, Limbo said nothing.
"It's something illegal, that much is obvious. Why would you keep this information under wraps if it wasn't?"
Limbo never thought she'd find herself in this situation. Backed into a corner by Night Owl of all people. But what was worse than the idea of him finding out about her secret, was learning who was responsible. How could Samba go behind her back like that? She had trusted her. Samba promised to keep her secret, and she betrayed her.
Owl could clearly see in Limbo's only eye how she felt about this. But he wasn't finished just yet. "However..."
Limbo's ears perked up slightly.
"She also insisted that neither of you did anything wrong. And maybe I've just grown soft over the years, but I see no reason not to believe her. Everything you've done and everything she's done has been a big help, so I promised her that I'd look the other way for now, at least until the Ghost situation is resolved."
Though she still felt a slight, lingering sting of betrayal, a small sense of relief washed over Limbo.
"But when that time comes, I expect to hear the truth," Owl told her sternly. "I don't want to have to arrest somepony after they went through such a harrowing experience, but the law's the law. You understand, right, Limbo?"
Limbo just stared back at him, her expression conflicted. She'd shared her thoughts on this exact situation with Samba in the past, but now faced with the possibility of him finding out her secret, she wasn't sure exactly how confident she felt about her chances of maintaining her undeath. After all, like Owl said: the law's the law.
"I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, won't we?" she responded as casually as she could manage. She downed the rest of her coffee and stood up. "But just to let you know, there's a lot riding on that information—not that it matters to me so long as I know Poe's okay. But if you choose to do your job by the book, I have little doubt that you'll make an enemy of her real quick. I know full well the lengths that that crazy mare is willing to go for me, so just keep that in mind if or when you find out."
With that final warning, Limbo took her leave of the station, leaving Night Owl to quietly ponder the exact meaning of her words in silence while he waited for the other officers to show up for their shifts.
***** ***** *****
The doorknob turned ever so slowly, the moving of the latch barely audible within the dead silence of the night. The door of Samba's apartment eked inward only a couple of inches, allowing a single, pale silver eye to survey the room beyond. The living room appeared to be empty, and no lights were on. The coast was clear.
Limbo slipped inside like a slippery snake, opening the door only just enough to squeeze herself through before gently closing it again and locking it. She snuck quietly across the living room toward the couch, hoping that no creaky floorboards gave away her presence.
The sound of the toilet flushing startled Limbo, her gaze shifting to the hallway where a faint amount of light could be seen escaping from underneath the bathroom door. The door then opened, and, in a panic, Limbo scrambled for the couch. In her haste, her leg struck the corner of the coffee table concealed within the darkness, causing the haphazard zombie to stumble and faceplant, only managing to drag one of the couch cushions down with her.
Samba stepped out of the bathroom in time to spot a silhouette falling face first on the other side of the couch. She just let out a long sigh through her nostrils, casually meandering out to the living room, flicking on the kitchen light along the way to provide some visibility. She stared down at the splayed out form of Limbo on the floor, her face covered by one of the couch cushions and snoring rather loudly and forcibly as though that were going to fool Samba.
"Nice try," the unicorn chided bemusedly. "I checked to see if you were asleep before I used the bathroom."
Limbo threw the cushion off herself, revealing the somewhat guilty look on her face, like a child caught with her hoof in the cookie jar.
"You went down to the station, didn't you?" Samba accused with a corrective glare.
"I needed to know what they learned yesterday," Limbo responded defensively. "I'm still a member of law enforcement. I gotta stay in the loop."
"You're supposed to be taking the weekend off. Can't you go a day without sleuthing or investigating?"
Limbo pulled herself up to a sitting position, putting the couch cushion back where it belonged. "What do you expect me to do with my time? Sleep doesn't do anything for me except kill time. I may as well make use of that time, right?"
"It's supposed to help you relax, something I think you could use a little of after everything we've been through. Celestia knows I could."
Limbo gave her an argumentative grimace. "What, you think I'm gonna wind up with some stress-related illness? I'm dead, remember? Seriously, why am I even going along with this? Who said I had to take time off? I shouldn't feel guilty about doing my job when there are people out there in danger. You're my assistant, not my mom. I give the orders around here."
Samba didn't flinch under her belligerent arguing, only knitting her brow at her. "First of all, keep your voice down. Pira's still sleeping. Second, this is my apartment. So until you find a new place to live, you're following my rules. And, speaking of which, I haven't seen you even attempting to find a new home since yours was burned down. You can't mooch off of me forever."
"Oh, that's rich coming from you."
Samba arched an eyebrow, vexed by the statement. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Isn't mooching and laziness the whole reason you got divorced and kicked out of your own home?"
Samba winced. That blow hit pretty hard.
"Based on the way you talk down about yourself, you're the last person I would've expected to get on my case about this."
The dancer's expression fell significantly, a sullen and regretful frown making its way onto her face.
Limbo observed her crestfallen state, feeling a touch guilty. "But I suppose you do have a point. I need to start looking into finding a new office space, but it's hard to focus on that when we're so close to cracking this case, you know?"
"Well, maybe that's how you can make use of your off time," Samba suggested. "Go shopping for new apartments. Pira and I can go with you if you want."
Limbo cocked a suspicious eyebrow. "You're not saying that just because you think you need to keep an eye on me, are you?"
Samba lolled her head back and forth. "You do have a case of tunnel vision sometimes. No offence, but I don't trust you not to get sidetracked if you happen to bump into Owl or another officer on the way."
Limbo rubbed her neck with a begrudging sigh. "Fair point."
Curiosity suddenly took hold of Samba. "Speaking of, was there even anypony at the station?"
"Oh, yeah, Owl was there. Can't say I was surprised."
Samba smiled knowingly. "Yeah, you two are pretty alike."
Limbo quirked an eyebrow, pursing her lips at the comment, but choosing to ignore it. "Anyway, we had a brief chat, and I learned some interesting tidbits, both about the case..." She glared slightly at Samba. "...and about you."
Samba blinked, puzzled by her accusatory tone. "'About me'?"
Limbo flicked her hoof dismissively, though not without some vindictiveness. "What's important is that we got some good news from Career that would suggest that the Ghost's victims are very likely still alive, so that's nice."
Samba braced herself. She had a feeling that Limbo had something loaded and ready to fire in her direction.
"But Owl mentioned a little conversation that the two of you had when I wasn't around."
Samba's ears flattened meekly.
Limbo stepped forward, her expression a strong mixture of anger and hurt. "How could you tell him that you know our secret? Now he knows that Poe did something illegal and that I'm involved!"
"W-Well, what did you expect me to do? Lie to a cop?"
"Yes! It's not difficult. Do you even realize what you did? Even if we save Poe now, Owl's going to find out what she did, and she's gonna go straight to jail. She's gonna be no better off than she is now!"
"Then don't tell him," Samba suggested weakly.
"That's not gonna get me anywhere. He's a few steps away from figuring it out on his own, so regardless of how this case turns out, there's no way I'm getting out of this now! I can't feel like I repaid my debt to Poe if she gets thrown behind bars the moment I save her. And when that happens, I'm not gonna be able to help her anymore because I'll be dead again!"
Samba lowered her head, her guilt manifesting in the form of moisture in the corner of her eyes. "I-I'm sorry. We were just talking. I didn't mean for that to come up. I just... I couldn't just lie to a cop."
Limbo was about to say more, but hesitated. Her gaze passed over Samba's shoulder and down the hall, where a little filly was peeking out discreetly from Samba's bedroom, clutching her favorite blanket close to her chest. Limbo sighed reluctantly. "Look, I get it. You're not the most confrontational person in Equestria, and Owl can be pretty intimidating when he wants to be—to normal people anyway. But, at the very least, I guess I should be thankful that you managed to convince him to put that by the wayside for now."
"I promise I'll do everything I can to convince him to go easy on you and Poe," Samba insisted in desperate apology.
Limbo shrugged indifferently. "Not like it matters that much. As I keep saying, once Poe's safe, I don't care what happens to me."
Samba stared at the look of reluctant acceptance in Limbo's eye. As a show of apology and resolve, Samba did her best to steel her expression to reassure her friend. "Then... If you're not going to be around anymore, I'll bail Poe out if she has to go to jail."
Limbo frowned slightly. While she appreciated the offer, she knew that Samba's financial situation wasn't comfortable enough for that. "That's noble of you and everything, but I'm pretty sure it'll be more difficult than that."
The shoddy wall of reassurance Samba had attempted to build up in that moment crumbled rather quickly.
Again, Limbo glanced back at the young filly silently watching the argument. Pirouette finally seemed to notice that she'd been spotted up past her bedtime and ducked back into the bedroom, her blanket briefly getting caught in the door and taking her a moment to get it out. "Maybe we should save this for the morning. You're probably pretty tired, and you have a rambunctious kid to look after."
"Technically, it's already morning."
"You really gonna do this now, Samba. Go to bed," Limbo instructed with a disgruntled grimace.
Not having any more strength to continue the argument anyway, Samba turned off the light and shuffled off to her bedroom, still wracked with guilt. Limbo remained in the living room, flopping down onto the couch with a long sigh. The first rays of the sun were now starting to show through the window, but Limbo just ignored them. With the added light, though, she did manage to spot Webber sitting on the coffee table, just staring at her.
"So... What do you think?" she asked the spider with a low groan. "Who's in the wrong here?"
Webber just shifted his legs uncertainly.
Limbo closed her eye with another sigh. "Yeah... Me neither, bud."
***** ***** *****
Despite the presence of a normally energetic child, Samba's apartment was surprisingly quiet. Samba herself was busy making two bowls of oatmeal for herself and her daughter. Limbo was reclined on the couch, idly flicking through channels on the television. Webber was on the kitchen table, staring at the young filly who was waiting for her breakfast. And Pirouette was seated quietly, paying little heed to the spider watching her curiously.
As exuberant as Pirouette usually was, this morning, she was uncharacteristically calm and quiet. All she did as she waited for her oatmeal was tap her hooves lightly on the tabletop, as even in a more subdued emotional state, she still couldn't entirely fight her need to fidget. Pirouette glanced over at her mother, who was absentmindedly stirring the oatmeal, the adult mare's face listless and weary. She'd been stirring for the better part of five minutes it felt like to the filly. At this point, their breakfast was going to be beyond mush, but Pirouette didn't have the courage to speak up.
Webber noticed the child's gaze occasionally shifting between the tabletop and her mother. The arachnid took it upon himself to crawl off the table and up onto the kitchen counter, within eyesight of Samba.
The mare removed her unfocused eyes from the bowls to look at the spider. Webber just pointed a leg toward Pirouette, Samba glancing back at her, then back to the goopy oatmeal she'd been slowly stirring for Celestia knows how long. "Oh, sorry, Pira. Mommy was somewhere else there for a bit." She delivered one bowl of oatmeal to her daughter with a rather forced smile.
"That's okay," the considerate filly assured her, though with a notable lack of enthusiasm.
Samba sat down with her own bowl, letting out a long, tired sigh. "I didn't get much sleep last night, but you probably noticed that, I guess. I didn't wake you with all my tossing and turning, did I?"
Pirouette just mumbled quietly with a mouthful of oatmeal.
Samba glanced over to Limbo, though from her vantage point, all she could see were her back hooves propped up on the arm of the couch and the television flicking through channels too fast to really heed what was on.
Pirouette could see the way her mother was looking toward Limbo, and she finally decided to speak her mind. "You had a fight with Lady Limbo last night."
Samba turned back to her, a little surprised. The television suddenly stopped switching channels. Samba's ears drooped regretfully. "Oh... You heard that, huh?"
"Did you break a promise?"
Samba just looked her daughter in the eye. It was simultaneously sweet and heart-wrenching for the little filly to look at it in such an innocent way. "It's... more complicated than that."
"You're not supposed to break promises, Mommy," Pirouette told her, though the little authority she could manage in her cute voice was offset by the audible concern that came with it.
"I didn't break a promise," Samba assured her, though defensively.
"Came pretty dang close, though," Limbo chimed in from the couch, proving that she was listening in.
"I said I was sorry. What do you want me to do about it?"
Limbo didn't answer, but Samba couldn't tell if she was getting the cold shoulder, or if Limbo actually didn't know how to answer.
Pirouette hopped off her chair and trotted over to the couch, looking pleadingly at the lounging detective. "Don't be mad at Mommy, Lady Limbo. She didn't mean to break her promise."
Limbo just stared back at the innocent child. Pirouette didn't even know what this secret was, yet she was so willing to go to bat for her mother. But for as heartwarming as her innocence was, Limbo wasn't about to cave so easily this time. "It's nice that you want to stick up for your mom, kiddo, but these are adult matters. So maybe let the grownups work this out, yeah?"
Pirouette lowered her head in defeat.
"If we're being realistic, it was only a matter of time anyway," Samba said, mostly as a desperate bid to try and assuage her guilt. "Owl had his suspicions already. How long did you expect him to take to figure it out?"
Limbo finally propped herself up, glaring at Samba over the back of the couch. "That's not the point. This isn't even about whether or not he would or wouldn't find out. It's about trust. I trusted you with some very sensitive information—info that my very life may depend on—and you practically went and dropped it on Owl."
"Hey, it's not like you just decided to tell me. I accidentally stumbled on it. If it weren't for me, you'd be buried in a landfill somewhere right now," Samba reminded her.
"I would've wriggled my way out of that dumpster eventually. But need I remind you that if it weren't for me, you'd probably be tied up in some psycho's basement right now. The least you could've done to repay me is keep your lips zipped."
"Silence can be just as effective as an admission," Samba argued. "If I didn't say anything when Owl asked, he would've just inferred the information. At least I managed to convince him to look the other way for now. You might not have even gotten that if I didn't say anything." She stood up from the kitchen table to go stare Limbo right in her one remaining eye with reinvigorated authority. "And he's had plenty of opportunities since then to bring it up to you and chose not to. The only reason he did this morning is probably because it was just slow and boring over there. You didn't have to sneak off to the station. Seriously, what's wrong with just taking a breather once in a while?"
Limbo leaned over the back of the couch to retaliate. "When people's lives are on the line, there's a lot wrong with it. Every minute I waste lazing about is a minute of their lives they could be getting back. I'm fine if you want to take time off to be with your kid, but I don't need to rest, because the only person who matters to me is gradually inching closer to death with each tick of the clock."
Samba's expression fell slightly. There was still a modicum of frustration in her eyes, but there was no hiding the mild hurt she was feeling. "The only person who matters to you, huh?"
A small hint of guilt managed its way onto Limbo's face. "You know I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that Poe is the person who matters most to me personally. She's like a sister to me. So you have to see where I'm coming from, right? I mean, you'd do the same for Pira, wouldn't you?"
Samba said nothing. Her gaze shifted to her daughter, who was just standing there and listening to the argument with a look of worry. In truth, Samba didn't know how to answer that question, and she hated herself for it. And because of that, she was starting to realize that she had no business trying to chew out Limbo. Limbo had more resolve than she could ever hope to have. Samba didn't know what it was like to sacrifice herself for something or somepony she cared about, but Limbo had already lost her life once for just that, and even death hasn't deterred her from continuing to chase that goal. Samba couldn't even begin to put herself in Limbo's horseshoes, so it probably wasn't her place to lecture her.
With a heavy sigh, Samba finally backed down. "Okay, I get it... I guess I am being selfish. You're job is important, and people are relying on you. I shouldn't be getting in the way of that just because I think you deserve to rest."
Limbo frowned sympathetically. "You're not being selfish. You're thinking about me, and I appreciate that, but you're better off thinking about people whose lives actually matter. Your concern is wasted on this slab of worthless flesh. It's entirely possible that I don't have much time left anyway. Just enough to catch the Ghost maybe."
Samba looked into her eye with the deepest of apology now that that particular notion had occurred to her. "I'm so sorry. It's my fault that you're going to have Poe's gift taken away from you."
Limbo shrugged her apology off with a resigned sigh. "Don't blame yourself. You had a point. It was only a matter of time before Owl found out. But we don't know for sure how it'll go down if or when he does, so maybe save the self-deprecation for later, yeah?"
As encouraging as Limbo was trying to be, Samba still couldn't manage a smile. Still, she appreciated her understanding. "Yeah. I'll try to focus on what's important from now on."
"You focus on what's important to you," Limbo corrected, tilting her head in Pirouette's direction.
Samba stared at the still concerned look on her daughter's face, a smile finally working its way across her lips. "Right, gotcha."
"Are you still friends?" Pirouette asked with cautious hope.
Limbo scoffed at the question. "Pfft, you kidding? You think a little argument like this will break us up? I've gotten into actual, physical fights with Poe before where the two of us have wound up with bruises and bleeding gums. Usually always ended with the two of us flat out on the floor, laughing our flanks off at how stupid we were," she chuckled fondly.
An odd look of intrigue crossed the filly's face. "Are you gonna fight Mommy?"
Limbo turned to Samba, looking her over as though she were entertaining the notion.
Samba took a nervous step back. "Absolutely not."
"Yeah, it'd be a little unfair. I have actual combat training. Don't think a dainty dancer could hold her own in a fight. Although, maybe if you learned some capoeira..."
"I don't know what that is, but it sounds cool!" chirped Pirouette.
"Please stop putting ideas in her head," Samba pleaded.
"Hey, if you're gonna be my assistant, you should maybe consider at least taking some self-defense classes or something."
"I'd rather just leave the physical stuff to you. Also, can we drop this topic now? You've got a case you want to investigate, right?"
Limbo lazily draped herself over the back of the couch. "Mmm... I could, but didn't you want to help me look for an apartment?" she reminded her with a small grin.
Samba smiled back. "You still want to do that? I don't want to hinder the investigation any more than I already have."
Limbo shrugged her limp shoulders. "No reason we can't do both. Maybe get some lunch while we're out."
"Hayburger!" Pirouette blurted enthusiastically.
"You heard the little lady." Limbo slithered off the back of the couch, hitting the floor with an unceremonious thud before quickly standing up. "Sounds like we've got a full day planned, so let's not dillydally."
Between Limbo and Pirouette, it was hard not to catch the infectious optimism in the apartment. "Alright, but Pira's gotta get cleaned up first."
The filly wasted no time galloping off to the bathroom.
"Guess we'll be going our separate ways at some point today, though, huh?" Limbo presumed a little guiltily.
"If you really need to focus that much on the case, then I suppose I won't stop you, but I need to stay with Pira."
Limbo scratched her head with a sigh. "You know, maybe one more day off wouldn't kill me."
"Well, I don't see how it could considering you're already dead," Samba snickered into her hoof.
Limbo just glared, bemused. "Keep making jokes like that and you'll really need those capoeira lessons."
***** ***** *****
Another day of fair weather made an afternoon out on the town pretty peaceful and relaxing. For as much as she has argued that she's not a good mom, Samba always looked forward to her weekends with Pirouette because it was a chance to take some time off of work and mellow out. Rhapsody may have been a worrywart, but in actuality, Pirouette was always perfectly fine when she stayed with her mother. Samba never needed the emergency numbers that her ex-husband was so adamant she have in her phone, and with the little extra self-respect she'd built up over the past couple of weeks, she fully intended to rub it in Rhapsody's face this time when he came to pick up his perfectly safe and happy child.
But that wasn't until tomorrow. On this fine Saturday afternoon, Samba, Pirouette, and Limbo were busy with other things; namely, helping Limbo browse for new apartments. They stopped off at a few buildings throughout the morning and checked out some places, but Limbo couldn't quite make a decision. Samba couldn't say she was surprised. Limbo always struck her as a person who was stuck in her ways—evidenced clearly by their argument last night and this morning. She had been pretty despondent when her previous apartment was burned down, and Samba could certainly empathize. She felt similarly after her divorce and was forced to move out of the apartment she'd lived in with Rhapsody since they graduated high school. She hadn't even bothered to unpack most of the stuff she owned for fear that she'd get too comfortable. With that in mind, she wasn't going to force the issue on Limbo any more than she already had.
So, having at least managed to remain focused long enough to look at a few apartments, Samba decided to treat Limbo to lunch for once; Hayburger, at Pirouette's insistence. But from there, their day was pretty open.
Samba, Limbo, and Pirouette stepped out of the restaurant, each carrying with them the remainder of their respective lunches. For Samba, that was half a cup of soda; for Limbo, a cup of coffee; and Pirouette with a cup of vanilla ice cream that she'd dumped her leftover horseshoe fries into, much to her mother's chagrin.
"What now, then?" Limbo asked as she sipped her coffee. "You want me to look at more apartments?"
"Well, as much as I appreciate your focus, you're not the only one I have to entertain this weekend," Samba joked, looking down at Pirouette. "What do you want to do, Pira?"
The filly spooned some ice cream and fries into her mouth as she mulled it over. "I dunno. There a magic show we can see?"
"I don't think so," Samba told her apologetically. "But I don't exactly want to go to another magic show after what happened last time."
"I mean, I'm down for anything," Limbo said with a shrug. "Gotta pass the time somehow."
Samba pulled out her spellphone. "Why don't I text Mandi and see if she wants to hang out? Maybe she'll have some ideas."
"If she's not preoccupied by her new boyfriend," Limbo quipped with a mocking snicker.
Samba sent the text and waited a few moments. Even if Limbo was just teasing, Samba wouldn't have been surprised if Mandible took her time getting back to her. However, she stared quizzically at her phone. "Huh. 'Failed to send.' Weird."
"Probably turned off her phone so nopony can disturb them," Limbo assumed.
"That's not how spellphones work. She should still get my text even if it's off, she just won't get the notification."
Limbo rolled her eye. "Well, whatever. I don't know how this junk works. Why not just try texting Leaf?"
"I don't actually have Leaf's number. He did ask me out when we first met. If I had his number, I'd just feel like I was stringing him along."
"Don't really have to worry about that anymore, I suppose."
"Maybe I'll ask next time we see him. I seem to have a tendency to bump into him randomly." Samba slipped her phone back into its sleeve. "But I guess we're back at square one now. No suggestions at all?"
"I usually hit the movies when I have spare time, but I'm assuming taking the tyke to another movie is probably off the table."
"I wanna watch Power Ponies again!" Pirouette chirped excitedly.
"I don't think so," Samba said uncertainly. "That movie was a little more violent than expected, and I doubt there are any better ones playing today."
"We could just go to the park or something," Limbo threw out there. "I'm not opposed to just sitting on a bench and enjoying my coffee."
"I don't know if you've noticed, but I have an energetic child to look after. There's no way she's going to sit still at a bench."
"Then go play with her. I don't need a foalsitter. This is supposed to be your weekend with her, right? Just have fun, don't mind me."
"You can play too, Lady Limbo!" Pirouette told her with a cute grin.
Limbo waved off the suggestion with a smile. "Nah, I tend to play a little rough. Police training and all that. Don't want to hurt a little filly."
"Can you show me some of your moves?" the filly requested curiously.
"Only if Samba volunteers to be my practice dummy," Limbo smirked at the other mare.
"That's a big fat no," Samba responded bemusedly. "Can we just go? Maybe we'll think of something by the time we get there."
With no further objections from Limbo or Pirouette, the trio started on their way to Canter Waterfront Park. Given that it was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, it was no surprise that the park was bustling with activity. Children frolicking, adults relaxing, and families having picnics made for a picturesque scene of the oceanside park. Some people had even decided to take advantage of the calm weather by taking their boats out on the harbor, adding some majestic sails to the background of the already stunning view.
Samba brushed a hoof through her mane, enjoying the feeling of the cool, gentle breeze blowing in from the ocean. "I wish we had thought to come here earlier. I would've suggested we get takeout instead of eating in so we could have a picnic."
"Can we get more?" Pirouette asked eagerly.
"I'm pretty sure your dad wouldn't approve of you having two fast food meals in one day, especially since you're still eating your dessert from the first meal," Samba told her, pointing to her half-eaten ice cream.
"Gotta say, I'm kind of impressed by the kid's appetite," Limbo commented with an admiring grin. "I'm pretty stuffed after just one burger and some fries. But then again, I guess I'm a unique case. The ol' garbage disposal ain't quite in the same shape it used to be."
"Well, let's just find a spot to sit back so you can digest," said Samba, scoping out spots with a good view of Horseshoe Bay.
The three ponies meandered through the park in search of an ideal location to lounge, with Samba doing most of the actual browsing. Pirouette was too busy prancing around exuberantly, and Limbo was idly sipping her coffee, not really having any particular preferences.
However, Limbo's wandering eye did manage to spot something of interest. She grinned, nudging Samba to get her attention. "You weren't kidding," she chuckled.
Samba followed her pointing hoof, finding both Loose Leaf and Mandible making their way over to them.
"You and Mandi really are surfing the same measurements, huh, Mommy?" said Pirouette.
Leaf greeted them with a friendly smile and a wave as he and Mandible approached. "Hey. Kinda had a feeling you wouldn't be able to resist coming to the park with your kid on a day like this."
"We didn't plan that out when we left the apartment," Samba told him. "We had nothing else to do, so we figured we come here and relax." She glanced between Leaf and Mandible, grinning coyly. "Sooo... I'm guessing your date went well."
Leaf chuckled, his face turning a little red. "You could say that. We got dinner, saw a movie. You know, typical date stuff."
Samba sighed with a wistful smile. "I really enjoyed my dating days with Rhapsody. I mean, we were teenagers, so maybe it's a little different. I trust Leaf was a gentlecolt?" she asked Mandible.
The changeling didn't respond right away. Her monotone green eyes were fixed on Samba the whole time, but it was like she was a little zoned out, at least until Samba addressed her directly. "Yeah," she replied plainly.
Samba quirked an eyebrow at the lackluster answer. She expected her to be a little more enthusiastic. "You okay? You seem kinda out of it."
"I think she's a little despondent right now," Leaf laughed quietly. "She dropped her phone during our date and some inattentive jerk stepped on it before she could pick it up. Smashed it pretty good."
Samba inhaled sharply, wincing as though she could feel Mandible's pain. "Yeesh, that sucks. Especially since you're a visitor here."
"Yeah, might want to get a new one in case your family starts thinking you got kidnapped," Limbo added. She received a corrective jab from Samba.
"Maybe have a little more tact," Samba whispered sternly.
"Don't worry about it too much. I offered to help her pick out a new one, and maybe give it a little modding," Leaf told them discreetly. "So, what have you three been up to today?"
"We had Hayburger!" Pirouette chimed in, slurping up a spoonful of ice cream as she did.
"Most of our morning has been spent apartment hunting for Limbo," Samba answered.
Leaf shot a snarky smirk at Limbo. "Too preoccupied with your investigations to do it without being told, huh?"
Limbo pursed her lips in annoyance. "Does everypony think they're my parents? I'm taking time off for once, so cut me some slack. I'm gonna go sit down and enjoy my coffee. You folks can engage in your idle small talk," she declared with a flick of her hoof, wandering off to sit down on a nearby bench.
Not exactly wanting to leave Limbo to her own devices during her time off, Samba leaned down to Pirouette. "Go keep Limbo company, okay, sweetie?"
The filly nodded. "'Kay. Can I have your phone, Mommy?"
Samba tilted her head. "Why?"
"I wanna look at your pictures of Princess Twilight again!" she stated with zeal.
Samba rolled her eyes with a grin, removing her phone and passing it to her daughter. "Alright, fine. But, um... don't give my phone to Limbo."
Pirouette stared curiously. "Why not?"
"Just... don't. Please. I don't want to be the only who has to get a new one."
The filly simply shrugged, prancing off to join Limbo on the bench.
Mandible watched as Pirouette sat herself down with her ice cream and her mother's spellphone. She then turned to Leaf, though didn't say anything for a few moments as they exchange looks. "I'm going to go sit down too," was all she said, her voice surprisingly quiet. The changeling sauntered away towards Limbo and Pirouette, but briefly shot a quick glance back at Samba.
"You sure she's okay?" Samba asked with slight concern. "I know I'd be pretty bummed out if my phone got destroyed—mostly because of how expensive it would be to buy a new one—but she seems to be taking it... unreasonably hard."
"I think she's just tired," Leaf surmised. "We were out pretty late last night. Mandi was practically nodding off when I walked her back to her hotel. I even thought about suggesting we pay that pub you work at a visit, but then I figured you weren't working this weekend because of Pirouette."
"I... don't know how I'd feel about my friends watching me dance anyway," Samba admitted with a slight blush. "Might be a little awkward."
"I'll try changing the subject then," Leaf laughed. He meandered in the direction of the harbor, Samba following him over to a railing near the shore where the two had a peaceful view of the boats on the water. "Apartment hunting, huh? How did that go?"
Samba leaned against the railing with a slightly exasperated sigh. "About as well as you'd imagine. I appreciate that she was willing to go along with the suggestion, but I could tell her mind was elsewhere. She didn't give anything other than vague, dismissive comments. I can't really tell if she's distracted because of the case, or if she was just that attached to her old apartment. Leaning towards the former, if recent discussions are any indication."
"You sound like you're reaching the end of your rope. Is she that difficult to live with?"
"It's not that, it just that she's so laser-focused on the case, she's not paying attention to everything else."
"What else does she have to pay attention to?" Leaf asked rhetorically. "Her work is essentially her life, especially after Poe disappeared. You can't really fault her for wanting to help people."
Samba let out a slow breath through her nostrils as she thought it over. "I guess I'm just worried about her. I owe her a lot, so I don't want her to end up in a bad situation because she didn't take the time to take a step back and think things through."
Leaf shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know, Limbo's pretty stubborn. I think you've got your work cut out for you. Still, I think you've got the right of it."
Samba looked him in the eye. "Yeah? You think she could use some time off too?"
"Of course. I used to tell that to Bubble Gust all the time, but she never listened. Now look where she ended up," he commented somberly. "There's credence to the phrase 'Working yourself to death.'"
"I'd think Limbo would know that better than anypony..." Samba muttered under her breath.
"If you want my two bits, I say you keep on at Limbo to restrain herself. Let the cops take care of things from here. She deserves some rest."
Samba managed a small smile, happy to have at least one person in her corner. "That's the plan. Hopefully she'll realize that a little downtime isn't gonna hurt her."
"Just buy her a year's supply of coffee. That'll keep her occupied," Leaf laughed.
"Or exacerbate the problem," she giggled. "I know she's got a high caffeine tolerance at this point, but I don't know if I wanna push her limit."
"Yeah, that's a fair point," he chuckled.
***** ***** *****
Limbo idly sipped her coffee as she sat on the park bench, staring off at nothing in particular. She was bored, there was no denying that. She felt bad for Samba, having to foalsit her while she begrudgingly took some time off from the investigation, and Limbo knew she wasn't exactly making it easy for her. They were so close to finding the Ghost, she could feel it in her gut, so it was hard for her to sit still. Those missing people were within reach, but she just had to sit back for the weekend and do nothing at Samba's insistence. The worst part was the fear that the B.P.D. would find the Ghost first, and there was no way she wanted to give Owl the satisfaction of solving the case before her when they'd only recently really started taking the case seriously.
But she made a promise to a friend to behave herself, so she was going to do her best. She might have just needed something to properly distract her. It wasn't like she was alone right now. While Samba chatted up Leaf, Limbo was flanked on the bench by Mandible on her left, and Pirouette on her right.
Limbo glanced down at the filly. Pirouette was contentedly continuing to eat her ice cream while fiddling with her mom's phone. She was just swapping back and forth between the two pictures of Princess Twilight that Samba had taken at the Magi-Tech Expo, but no matter how many times she looked at the them, Pirouette's smile never faltered. The kid really admired the princess, not that Limbo could blame her.
Pirouette seemed pretty well occupied, so Limbo instead turned her attention to the surprisingly quiet changeling. Mandible must've been pretty worn out after her date last night to be as subdued as she was. Her expression was pretty unreadable, but she was staring off at something. Limbo followed her focused gaze over to the conversing Samba and Leaf.
Limbo grinned. "What, don't tell me you're jealous?" she joked. "Well, to be fair he did ask her out when they first met, but I don't think you have to be worried. Samba has some baggage with her and she knows it."
Mandible didn't respond. She didn't even look at Limbo.
Limbo grimaced. "Seriously, what is with you today? What exactly did you two do last night?"
Mandible finally glanced at her. "Dinner and a movie," she answered flatly.
The detective just sighed. "Alright, I get it, none of my business. You just don't seem like yourself today, that's all."
Mandible blinked. "Sorry. I'm tired," she apologized, but with no change in tone whatsoever.
"Yeah, I gathered that much. You know, you could probably use a cup of coffee."
"I'm good," she stated, her gaze returning to Leaf and Samba.
Not the response she expected given how much Mandible had apparently come to love coffee. Limbo just shook her head. It was pretty obvious that she wasn't going to get a conversation with her going today, much to her surprise. So, in an effort to occupy her mind with something other than the case, Limbo just started looking around the park at all the people wandering about.
And as it so happened, at that very moment, she spotted a couple of familiar faces strolling down the sidewalk. The recognizable reds and blues of her former colleagues, Paddy and Siren, were passing through the park in full uniform. Limbo thought that was a little strange considering Owl said all of their officers were busy investigating Mango Incorporated employees.
Limbo bit her lip. An opportunity had shown itself, and it was difficult to resist the urge. They were right there, within eyesight. What harm would there be in taking a few minutes to get caught up on what the cops have learned recently? Limbo briefly glanced toward Samba. The dancer was still engaged in her own chitchat. Surely she wouldn't mind if Limbo went to say hi to some old coworkers.
Limbo hopped off the bench. "Hey, I'm gonna go have a quick chat with some friends. I'll be back in a jiff. Keep Pira company for a bit, yeah?" Limbo requested of Mandible.
The changeling looked at her, her eyes seeming to widen slightly. She nodded with just a little more energy than she'd displayed so far today. "Sure."
"Great." And with that, Limbo hurried off to catch up with Paddy and Siren, hopefully before Samba noticed she'd left.
Left by themselves, Mandible turned her attention to the filly sitting on the other end of the bench. Pirouette scooped the final spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, which was apparently the only thing that was worth removing her eyes from the spellphone. The filly did her best to scrape any remaining ice cream off the sides of the cup in an effort to get one more tasty mouthful, but only getting a little bit of melted ice cream and a single remaining fry.
"Want to get more ice cream?" Mandible offered.
Pirouette's ears perked up. "Yeah! Is there another Hayburger here?"
"I saw an ice cream stand on the way here. We can go check it out."
Pirouette eagerly hopped off the bench with a giddy smile. "Let's go!"
Mandible briefly looked toward Samba, who was still busy talking to Leaf, then to Limbo, who was having a back and forth with the pair of police officers. She then stood up to guide Pirouette to the ice cream stand.
The changeling and the filly left the park entirely, Pirouette following behind Mandible as they made their way down the sidewalk. They were walking for a few minutes before Pirouette finally slowed down a little, her enthusiasm faltering slightly as she glanced back over her shoulder.
"I didn't know it was this far away," she peeped quietly, no longer able to see her mother in the distance.
"It's not much further," Mandible assured her, but in a less than easing tone. She pointed down the street. "It's just around the corner."
That seemed to perk the filly up. "Okay!"
As they rounded the corner, Mandible looked around. As they were out of sight from the park now, there weren't as many people around. She pointed to a nearby alleyway. "Down there."
Excited by the prospect of more tasty ice cream, Pirouette skipped into the alley without hesitation. She didn't get too far though, as all she saw was a dark, dingy alleyway with nothing but some dumpsters and trash cans. Pirouette lit up her horn to hopefully see something she was missing, but still saw nothing but trash.
"Where's the ice cream stand?" she asked with confusion.
She didn't receive an answer. Instead, Pirouette noticed a brief flash of green light, but it certainly didn't come from anything in front of her. She turned around, expecting to see Mandible standing there.
But it wasn't Mandible. Standing behind her was instead a stallion wearing a hoodie. The dim lighting of the alley combined with the stranger's hood made it difficult to see his entire face. All Pirouette could tell was that he was a unicorn, and he appeared to be wearing something on his head underneath the hood that was partially fitted around his horn. But she definitely didn't recognize him, and he was staring at her rather intensely.
Pirouette took an uneasy step back, clutching her mother's spellphone close to her chest. "M-Mandi? Th-This isn't funny, you're scaring me. Change back, please."
The stranger didn't say anything. However, his horn began to glow with a sky blue light, and parts of the object he wore on his head also glowed along with it.
Pirouette whimpered in fear and opened her mouth to scream for help, but nothing managed to escape her mouth before the stranger cast his spell.
And with a bright flash of magic, the two of them vanished into thin air, leaving only Samba's spellphone to drop to the ground with a hollow clatter.
Samba nodded in response to Leaf's question. "That's what Limbo and Night Owl figure. So that's good news at least."
Leaf observed the conflicted look on Samba's face as she stared out over Horseshoe Bay. "But you're still mad at her, I take it."
"I'm not mad," she answered with a sigh. "Just a little irritated. Like you said, she deserves some time off, but it's like relaxing is not in her genes."
"I mean, she's pretty laid back all the time really. Not like Bubble Gust. Investigating is essentially how she unwinds."
"But that doesn't mean she shouldn't actually take time off." Samba leaned lazily against the railing overlooking the shoreline. "I don't know, maybe I just want some company while I watch Pira for the weekend."
"I'm not disagreeing with you about her taking a break. If she goes in too hard, her recklessness is gonna catch up to her. And by extension, you."
Samba looked him in the eye. He had a concerned, almost warning expression on his face.
"Her actions are just as likely to put you in danger as they are her. And the closer you get to the Ghost, the more dangerous it's going to get."
"I know that. It's... not like I intended to get this deep into the investigation with her. Kinda just started as her assistant, helping with information gathering. Didn't expect to get directly involved with a hostage situation and a heist within the first week."
"Exactly my point. It doesn't exactly sound like she has your well being in mind."
"It's not like she threw me into those situations herself. We were all locked in during the expo, and I went after that kidnapper of my own accord. Mostly. Limbo gave me a bit of a talking-to after that one."
"But she's brought you along for every other occasion. Like when you were tailing my brother. That could've been dangerous, yet she brought you along. I feel like the least she could do is repay you with some rest and relaxation."
"Not like she isn't trying, but she's clearly having difficulty adjusting to the sudden decrease in speed."
Leaf happened to glance over his shoulder. What he saw some distance away made him grimace slightly. "No kidding."
Samba followed his gaze, spotting Limbo having a chinwag with a pair of police officers—Paddy and Siren, if she recalled, though she wasn't sure which was which. She scowled at the sight. "Seriously? She really can't just sit still for five minutes? Honestly, she's more trouble than Pira."
"You gonna give her a talking-to of her own?" Leaf presumed expectantly.
"Dang straight."
Leaf's spellphone suddenly began to vibrate in its sleeve. He removed it to check what it was. "Hm."
Samba briefly looked back at him. "What's up? Something wrong?"
Leaf shook his head, slipping the phone back into its sleeve. "Nah, but I do have to take care of something. I have to go. I'll catch you later, Samba."
"Alright, bye," she bid him as he went on his way. She didn't loiter at all, though, already having a few choice words for the distracted detective.
Meanwhile, Limbo wasn't exactly having a fun time chatting with her former colleagues.
"Your 'day off'?" Limbo echoed doubtfully.
"Yeah. We know you like to work yourself to the bone, Limbo, but we need our R&R every now and then," Paddy told her.
"You expect me to believe that, with how busy Owl claims the B.P.D. is right now, that he let you take the day off?"
"Why is that so hard to believe?" asked Siren.
"Because you're in uniform," the detective pointed out. "You're not taking a day off, you're playing hooky. I'd bet anything you two are on your way to the salon right now."
"N-No," Paddy denied, though her blue coat displayed her telling blush better than her twin sister's would.
Limbo just shook her head. "I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to talk to you two."
"My thoughts exactly."
Limbo's fur bristled at the sound of Samba's voice behind her. She preemptively forced a grin as she turned around, expecting and finding a rather disgruntled look on the dancer's face. "Oh, h-hey, Samba. Done talking to Leaf already?"
"Something came up. He had to go," she stated tersely. "What are you doing?"
Limbo groaned. "Alright, look, they were passing by, I figured I'd just ask a super quick question about the investigation. Where's the harm in that?"
Samba narrowed her eyes at her. It seemed like a minor infraction barely worth getting upset over, but considering that Leaf agreed with her about making Limbo relax, she felt justified in reprimanding her. "We had a long discussion about this last night, Limbo."
"If it makes you feel any better, they were pretty useless, as usual."
Siren pouted, insulted. "Hey! We're right here."
"That's not the point, Limbo," Samba continued. Her annoyance began to shift to slight hurt. "You promised. Why is this so hard for you?"
"It was just a couple of minutes. Seriously, you're making a mountain out of a molehill."
"Tell that to Pira. She was pretty disappointed in me when she thought I broke a promise. You wanna disappoint her too?"
Limbo grimaced at her. "Is that the consequences you're going with? Look, I like the kid, but I'm not gonna base all my morals on making her happy. I'm not her mother."
"Where is she anyway?" Samba asked, looking around the nearby area. "I told her to keep you company."
"Relax, she's with Mandible."
"Where, exactly?" Samba asked again, unable to spot them.
"On that bench over—" Limbo paused as she pointed to the bench the three of them had been sat upon a few minutes earlier, which was now empty. "—there... Um..."
Samba looked back at Limbo, her pupils shrinking with a mixture of anger and panic, and her voice shaking slightly. "Limbo..."
"Okay, just stay calm," Limbo told her, holding her hooves up defensively. "They probably just went to get a snack or something."
"You left her alone with a relative stranger to go talk to your old buddies, and now they're gone! How am I supposed to stay calm?!" Samba yelled.
"What? I thought we trusted Mandible. Besides, you left her with me to go chat with Leaf. How is that any different?"
"I don't have time for this! I need to find her! Pira!"
Samba called out, but received no response from her daughter. So she shouted louder and louder, hoping that eventually Pirouette would hear her. But she only managed to grab the attention of everypony else in the park, and Pirouette and Mandible were nowhere to be seen. The longer she went without hearing her daughter, the more the panic began to set in, her vision getting a little blurry, her heart racing, and her legs shaking.
"What's her deal?" Paddy asked in confusion.
"I dunno. Her dog run away or something?" Siren guessed.
Samba turned to the twins desperately. "My daughter's missing! Help me look for her!"
"It's our day off," Siren told her with slight annoyance.
"You're cops!" Samba responded angrily. "Somepony goes missing, you don't just ignore it!"
"You're better off asking a brick wall for help," Limbo deadpanned, sneering at the two officers.
"I don't have time for this! Pira!" Samba continued calling out to her daughter, rushing off across the park to cover more ground and hopefully find her and Mandible.
Limbo made to follow her, but stopped briefly to look back at Paddy and Siren. "Why'd you two even become cops?"
"The uniforms are cute," Paddy stated matter-of-factly.
Limbo just rolled her eye and made to catch up to Samba.
The distressed mother frantically scoured the park for any sign of her daughter, but no matter where she looked, she couldn't spot either of them. The longer she searched and the more she shouted without any acknowledgement just filled her mind with further dread, giving her the time to paint a picture in her head that became more and more terrifying the more details her subconscious added. At this point, she needed to try something else. Samba set her sights on the closest person, who happened to be a passing mare, trotting through the park on her own. Without thinking, Samba abruptly pulled her aside, much to the mare's surprise.
"Excuse me, y-you wouldn't happen to have seen a little unicorn filly with a changeling mare around recently, have you?" Samba asked her, requiring every ounce of her willpower just to keep her voice from trembling too much.
The mare seemed a little apprehensive at first, but upon hearing the question, smiled. "Oh, were they both purple?"
A little hope welled within Samba. "Yes, that's them! You saw them?!"
Limbo caught up at that moment, listening in.
The mare nodded. "Yeah, I thought it was sweet that a changeling would adopt a pony child. It was cute. I'm happy for them," she commented.
"Uh, actually, that was my daughter."
"Oh. Well, then I'm happy for the three of you."
"N-No, we're not—ugh, nevermind. Did you see which way they went?"
The mare pointed behind herself, towards a street corner leading away from the park. "Yeah, they went around the corner there. Whoa!" She nearly fell over as Samba immediately ran past her without saying so much as thank you.
Limbo rushed to catch her again, finding it a little surprising that Samba could move so quickly. She followed her around the street corner, finding Samba once again looking around frenetically and repeatedly calling out to Pirouette. But, like before, she received no response from her daughter. At this point, Limbo figured it was safe to assume they weren't within earshot anymore, and given they could have gone in any number of directions after turning that corner, it would be haphazard to just run off in a random direction in search of them. Instead, Limbo took a more careful look at her immediate surroundings, putting her detective skills to use and scanning for anything that could be a clue.
She happened to pass by an alleyway, briefly peering down into the relative darkness. A glint of something happened to catch her eye, and she was pretty sure she knew what it was.
"Hey, Samba!"
Samba managed to halt her own search long enough to divert her attention to Limbo, hoping that she may have found something. She hurried over to her side without a word. Limbo, too, said nothing, simply pointing down the alley towards the object lying on the ground.
Samba cautiously entered the alley, her concern over her daughter overriding any frightful memories that the location might have been trying to conjure up. When she stood over the object, her heart rate rose considerably.
Laying on the ground was her spellphone, a small web of cracks snaking across the screen from the impact of hitting the concrete.
Samba found herself short of breath, her pupils shrinking in horror as her fears manifested as the truth. She let out a shrill scream, her voice reverberating through the narrow alley.
Limbo walked up behind her, remaining calm despite what had obviously happened to Pirouette. One of them had to keep a level head and think about this clearly, and Samba was certainly in no state to be that person, sitting on her haunches, hooves on her head as she stared down at her phone, and hyperventilating something fierce.
"Samba, you have to calm down," Limbo instructed her.
Samba shot a harsh glower over her shoulder, her fiery anger contrasted by the moisture forming in her eyes. "You keep saying that like it's so easy! Your daughter didn't just get kidnapped by somecreature you thought you could trust!"
"I get that you're upset right now, but we need to approach this with logic and reason. Remember: we learned recently that the Ghost is likely keeping their victims alive, so Pira's probably okay. For now anyway."
Samba felt her temple throb, adding icy daggers to her fiery glare as she bore a hole through Limbo with her eyes. "Are you kidding me?!"
Limbo flinched, taking a step back in response to the outburst.
"What does the Ghost have to do with this?! There's nothing to suggest that the Ghost is involved here! All you're doing with that assumption is proving the point I've been trying to make all weekend! All you can think about is the stupid Ghost! And that's the reason why this even happened! Because you couldn't go one freaking day without thinking about it! You just had to talk to those two idiots, didn't you?! It's your fault she disappeared!"
"My fault? For taking a few minutes to talk?" Limbo retaliated. "What about you? You also left your daughter with two relative strangers to chat up Leaf."
"You think I don't know that?!"
Limbo winced again, having not expected that.
Samba's tears started flowing freely down her cheeks. "I've been telling you since I met you that I'm a bad mom. But you were a cop! I thought I could trust you with her safety more than I would trust myself. I'm not putting all the blame on you, no, but this just proves how bad your singlemindedness can be!"
Limbo's ears folded back. She wasn't going to say Samba was wrong. From the moment they noticed that Pirouette wasn't around, the guilt started to manifest slowly. And now that they had confirmed the filly's disappearance, that guilt only became greater.
However, Limbo was a determined mare, not one to let a wrong go un-righted. She steeled her one-eyed gaze in an effort to instill confidence in Samba. "I promise I'll find her. I swear to you."
Samba just sneered at her in response. "Yeah? Just like you promised to find my stalker? How's that going by the way?" she asked rhetorically and with an uncharacteristic amount of venom.
Limbo flinched at her accusatory tone. "Alright, that's not fair. You were the one who wanted to help look for the Ghost, remember?"
"I wanted to help you in general," she reminded her. "I didn't think we'd spend all of our time hunting the Ghost, but I'm starting to understand why we were." Samba furrowed her brow. "Let me ask you a question: Aside from my stalker, how many active cases do you have right now that aren't related to the Ghost?"
Limbo hesitated. "Um... Does Mandible's brother count?"
Samba shook her head. "See, this is what I'm talking about. I know you want to help people, but you're too single-minded! When you set your sights on something, you shut everything out!"
"Come on, I'm not that bad," Limbo responded, though her voice was steadily growing quieter beneath Samba's verbal assault.
"My daughter just went missing!" Samba shouted, the words causing tears to begin rolling down her cheeks. "And the first thing you assume, with no evidence to back it up, is that it must've been the Ghost! Why would they kidnap a little girl?!"
"That's what we need to think about, but in order to do that, you need to—"
Samba stomped over to her, prodding Limbo firmly in the chest. "No, you need to think about it. I don't have time to think. I have to find her. If you wanna save those people from the Ghost, then by all means, but I've got more important things to worry about right now."
With that, Samba brusquely brushed by Limbo and stomped hurriedly out of the alley. Limbo made to chase after her, but whenever she got close, Samba would just quicken her pace to put distance between them.
"Samba, hang on! You aren't seriously thinking about going after her by yourself, are you? That's crazy! You could get hurt!"
Samba spun around, her eyes full of anger and tears. "Stop following me! Leave me alone! I told you I'd find her myself! I don't want your help!"
Having made herself abundantly clear, Samba galloped off, leaving Limbo behind feeling dejected and very worried.
Samba turned the street corner and continued running down the block, leaving a trail of tears on the sidewalk behind her. Perhaps on instinct, she chanced a glance over her shoulder to see if Limbo was still being stubborn and following her. She wasn't. All she could see were random strangers staring at the crying mare running down the street. She slowed her gallop down to a trot, then a canter, until she finally stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, crying openly now about the distressing situation.
How could she have let this happen? How could she be so inept as a mother that she'd allow her own daughter to be kidnapped right out from under her nose? She knew it wasn't entirely Limbo's fault, but she was still too emotional to think about going back now. She wasn't even sure how she was supposed to go about finding Pirouette. She made that claim based on pure emotion; she had no idea where to even begin looking. It wasn't like the kidnapper left behind any sort of clue...
Samba suddenly jumped when she felt her spellphone vibrate. She'd honestly forgotten she even had it; she didn't even remember slipping it back into its sleeve. Either way, it wasn't like it mattered. It was probably Rhapsody texting to check up on Pirouette.
And that was another issue entirely. How was she supposed to tell Rhapsody? Should she tell him? After everything he's said and everything she's done, would he even be surprised?
As much as she didn't want to, Samba reluctantly decided to check the text, if for no other reason just to make sure it didn't buzz again to remind her to check. She listlessly pulled out her phone, turning on the cracked screen. At least now she new the damage was only external, for as little comfort as that could be in this situation.
Samba's eyes suddenly widened. It wasn't from Rhapsody. In fact, where it would normally display the sender's name, it instead said, "Unknown Name." But more important than that was the text itself.
Follow my instructions.
She just sat there, staring at the concise message in silence, her emotionally-addled brain trying to decipher the meaning behind it. It had to be from the kidnapper. There was no other logical explanation. And if that was the case, then perhaps these "instructions" were an indication that Pirouette was okay and she had a chance to save her after all. She just had to do as the kidnapper asked. The only problem was that there were no instructions. She continued to sit there, staring with anticipation and some cautious optimism that she'd be told what she needed to do, but she didn't receive another text. Samba sighed. Perhaps the kidnapper was toying with her, wanting her to squirm a little. Whatever the case, she couldn't just sit there and wait all day. She needed to do something.
Before turning off her phone and placing it back in its sleeve, on a whim she switched over to her contacts list. Amongst Rhapsody, Mandible, Luster Dawn, and Mango Career, there were the emergency numbers Rhapsody had added for her. Her eyes fixated on one in particular: "Police."
Once more, she looked over her shoulder. As emotionally-charged as her words may have been, she still meant what she said to Limbo. She hated to say it after everything Limbo has done for her, but right now, she wasn't sure if she trusted her to stay focused enough to help her.
But that didn't mean there wasn't somepony else she could ask for help...
***** ***** *****
"Kidnapped?"
Samba nodded solemnly, the remainder of her tears still evident via her damp cheeks.
Night Owl gazed sympathetically across his desk at her, the silence in his office as thick as soup. He lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, leaning forward slightly as if in anticipation. "The Ghost?"
Samba closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath through her nostrils. Of course he'd make the same assumption that Limbo did, but she didn't want to get upset with him. "I-I don't know. I don't think so. I mean, what reason would they have to go after a little girl?"
"Weren't you the one who suggested that they kidnapped Poe as a threat?"
"But you know I was just covering for Limbo. Besides, why threaten me? I'm not the threat here, it's Limbo, right?"
Owl crossed his hooves on his desk, looking her dead in the eye. "I know she's mentioned this to you—she's always been one to give credit where it's due—but you've been a bigger help with the case than I think you realize."
Limbo had told her that, but Samba hadn't decided if she actually believed that yet. Every contribution she'd made was something that Limbo or the cops would have managed themselves eventually, she was sure. But that was neither here nor there.
"Look, I don't know if it was the Ghost or not," Samba reiterated. "The important part is that my daughter is missing."
"Do you have any leads at all?"
"Oh, right." Samba pulled out her phone and showed the text she'd received to Owl. "I think this might be from her kidnapper, but I don't know who they are."
Owl stared at the screen for a moment before tapping a button on the intercom on his desk. "Hey, Scribble, can you come in here for a minute?"
Samba could swear she heard a long groan of annoyance from outside Owl's office, followed by the loud scraping of chair legs on the floor. A mare entered the office, looking a tad disgruntled as she chewed a wad of gum. Samba had seen this mare before the first time she visited the station with Limbo, and she was one of only three people that she'd seen upon entering today, along with Hole Punch at the front desk and Owl himself. Everycreature else must have been busy investigating the Ghost—or slacking off if a certain pair of twins were any indication.
"What?" Scribble grumbled upon entering.
"Can you trace the text on Samba's phone?" he requested.
With a quick eye roll and a groan, Scribble snatched the phone from Samba and started expertly sliding her hoof around the screen so fast that Samba couldn't even tell what she was doing, opening menus that she'd never even knew were in the phone. Scribble idly perused the contents of the spellphone, blowing a large, pink bubble with her gum, popping it, and sucking the candy off her muzzle to continue chewing. She then haphazardly tossed the phone back to Samba, who fumbled to catch it to hopefully avoid any further damage.
"Yeah, no dice," Scribble stated concisely.
Samba's ears drooped, feeling as though Pirouette was slipping further away. "Nothing? Are you sure?"
"Positive. Did everything I could. The sender must've hacked their phone. Pretty common practice for some groups out there so they can't be tracked down. Drug dealers, bootleggers, call centers. You know, the real scum of Equestria."
"All that is to say it makes our jobs more difficult," Owl added.
"Am I done here, or what?" Scribble asked impatiently.
Owl flicked his hoof with a sigh. "Yeah, yeah, get back to work."
Scribble meandered her way back out of the office.
"Sorry, but them's the breaks, Samba," Owl told her sympathetically. "If we can't track the number, there's not much we can do right now."
Samba leaned on the desk desperately. "But what if we just wait until they send the instructions? That might give us something to work with."
Owl offered a stern, yet apologetic look. "Listen, Samba, I understand you're in a rough spot here, but we simply don't have the horsepower right now to help."
Samba stared back at him, thoroughly vexed by the statement. "What?"
"All of my people—including Scribble—are currently tied up with the Ghost case. And I'm neck deep in trying to get search warrants for every employee of Mango Inc.," he told her, gesturing to all the paperwork strewn about on his desk.
"A little girl's life is on the line!" Samba blurted out in frustration. "How can you just turn a blind eye like that?!"
"A lot of people's lives are on the line. We don't get to pick and choose who lives and who dies. We just do our jobs."
Samba's pupils narrowed, feeling an incensed anger that she'd never experienced before welling up in her. "How can you say that?! Didn't you tell me yourself that you regret how you've treated your job and other people as an officer in the past?!"
"This isn't a matter of 'won't,' Samba, it's a matter of 'can't,'" he stated firmly. "We don't have the hooves or resources right now. And what about Limbo? Can't you ask her to help you? Why isn't she with you anyway?"
"Because she can't stay focused on anything other than the Ghost for more than five minutes!" Samba shouted, her frustration rising as she thought about it again. She narrowed her eyes vindictively. "I guess you guys are more similar than I thought, and not in a good way."
Owl could see the look in her eyes. He'd seen that look before in the eye of a certain detective, and it concerned him.
Samba stood up from the desk, shoving her chair back nearly to the wall. She glared judgmentally at Night Owl. "But Limbo was right about one thing: there are no good cops in this city." With that, she stormed out in a huff.
Owl stood quickly, reaching out to her. "Samba, wait! Don't do anything reckless!" However, his warning was blocked out by the slamming of his office door.
In her flurry of frustration, anger, and deep worry for her daughter's well being, Samba stomped out of the police station with purpose in her step. However, she didn't make it far before she once more found herself losing steam, eventually slowing to a listless shuffle down the street.
She had no idea where she was even going. Owl wouldn't help her, she didn't want Limbo's help, but she had nothing else to go off of. If she even had one clue, she'd at least feel a little more confident in doing... well, anything.
At that moment, her spellphone buzzed once again. A spark of hopefulness lit up in Samba's eyes as she desperately fumbled to pull it out and check, actually hoping that it was from Pirouette's kidnapper. Sure enough, she saw the telltale "Unknown Name" with the message and wasted no time reading it.
Come to work tonight.
Samba quirked a quizzical eyebrow. This must be the instructions they mentioned. But by "work," were they referring to her job at The Brewery? That seemed like an odd request. But the phrasing of the message was also of note. Requesting that she "come" to work as opposed to "go" to work seemed to imply that the sender might be waiting there for her.
Samba looked back over her shoulder toward the police station. If she had an inkling that the kidnapper might show themselves at the pub, perhaps letting Owl know was a good idea. Then again, just like Limbo, he'd already made it abundantly clear where his priorities lay. It was looking like she was going this one alone, but it wasn't like the kidnapper could do anything in a building full of people. She just needed to find out what they wanted.
She put her phone away and starting heading for home. She wasn't expecting to have to do so today, but she needed to get dolled up for work tonight.
***** ***** *****
It wasn't unlike any other night at the pub. Loud and drunken patrons were yammering on about how much their job sucks, or how much the world sucks, or how much they suck. It was the same as every other night. All the staff there were used to it at this point and chose to more or less tune it out. Even Tap, who prided himself on his social skills, didn't really absorb anything that the weary drunkards confided in him about. He just nodded along as he wiped down the bar or cleaned mugs, offering vague and general advice that the inebriated customers probably wouldn't remember in the morning anyway.
And there was always one weekend a month where it was especially dull for the bartender. Working the graveyard shift meant they were short-staffed as it was, but whenever Samba took a weekend off to spend time with her daughter, it left Tap wanting to repeatedly bang his head on the counter just so he wasn't bored out of his wits. He couldn't even text his husband because he was already in bed by the time Tap went to work.
So it certainly came as a surprise to him when he saw the door open and in walked Samba herself, decked out in perhaps more makeup than he'd ever seen on her face. She trotted with an oddly hurried gait towards her dressing room in the back, but Tap wasn't about to let her just show up unexpectedly without explanation.
"Um, excuse me, miss," he beckoned.
Samba stopped as she was passing the bar, meeting Tap's playful, yet quizzical grin.
"What, you're just gonna come in on your day off and not say a word? Didn't know you could be so rude," he accused with mock hurt.
Samba walked up to the bar, brushing her wavy, well-groomed mane aside with a sigh. "Sorry, I'm a little distracted, that's all."
Tap arched an eyebrow. "So distracted that you came into work during your weekend with your daughter? You didn't leave her home alone, did you?"
"No, no, she... Rhapsody picked her up early," she lied.
Tap furrowed his brow. "Well, that's a little unfair, don't you think? You get one weekend a month with her and that jerk comes around and cuts it short? I've never met the guy, but, honey, I'm starting to feel like you could've done better than him."
Samba frowned, feeling a little bad that she had to color Tap's opinion of Rhapsody. But she couldn't really tell him the truth. He'd just worry and try to talk her out of this. "Look, it's... complicated, alright? Don't worry about it."
She was about to start heading off again to prepare for her set, but once again Tap reached out to her, looking concerned.
"You feeling alright? I've never seen you this eager to get to work. Also, no offense, but did you just mix your cosmetics in a bucket and dunk your head in? I'd almost think you were on your way to the circus if I didn't know you."
Samba touched her face, finding a large smear of blush and eyeliner on her hoof. "Oh. Uh, maybe I was a bit hasty in applying it. I can fix that before I go on stage."
"Probably a good idea. I don't want you slipping and falling on a puddle of rainbow goop once you start working up a sweat. Hair looks good, though," he complimented.
Samba gave a halfhearted smile. "Thanks."
With the pleasantries out of the way, Samba could focus on the task at hoof. In the brief amount of time she had on her way backstage to her dressing room, she performed a quick scan of the pub. A cursory glance wasn't really enough to learn anything, though, but she did spot some regulars hanging out and enjoying some drinks. She'd need to take a more thorough look around to determine if any of them were the shady types she was looking for, perhaps when she starting serving drinks after her first set.
Samba took a few minutes to fix her makeup. One would think that she would also need this time to take a breather and put herself in the right headspace; after all, how was she supposed to concentrate on her performance with Pirouette on her mind? But it wasn't like Samba ever really put her all into her dancing to begin with. Ever since the divorce, she just never found herself able to enjoy dancing the way she used to. At this point, she did it because she was good at it, and that was it. It was just a job to her now. With that in mind, it really didn't take any time for her to mentally prepare herself. This performance wouldn't be any different than any of the others.
With her makeup in order, Samba switched on the stage lights and stepped out in front of her audience. As usual, she was met with hoots and whistles from the intoxicated spectators as her exotic music began to play and she began to move with the rhythm. All eyes were on her as she swayed and moved enticingly, hypnotically, like a beguiling siren mesmerizing her impaired audience, but with dance as opposed to song.
But despite what she had told herself, this performance was different. Normally, Samba would just ignore the unrestrained hollering and catcalling from the drunken stallions, tuning them out and pretending as though she were alone on that stage performing for nopony. But tonight, her attention was divided. Her dance had all but become second nature to her now, her body practically operating on muscle memory and moving on its own. Meanwhile, her eyes were actually trained on her audience. Whenever she moved in a way that allowed her to face forward, she would quickly scan the crowd, eyeing up each individual person watching her. No doubt she was giving some of them the wrong idea, or perhaps they were too drunk to even notice, but Samba's brain wouldn't let her wait until the set was over to look for her target.
And that's when it happened.
As every stallion in front of her was acting rowdy and loud, it stood to reason that the one person who wasn't would stand out. Off in the corner of the pub, sitting in a booth all by himself without even a drink, was a stallion wearing a hoodie. It wasn't his face that grabbed her attention per se, but his eyes. He was quiet, sitting still in his seat, and just staring at her. Even in this darkness and from this distance, Samba recognized that piercing, unnerving gaze, and the image of the first time she'd met him face to face flashed in her mind—the same night she'd met Limbo. That gaze had been burned into her memory.
Samba nearly stumbled as she danced, caught off guard by the stallion's presence. She managed to catch herself, though, turning the misstep into an impromptu move that actually seemed to impress her onlookers. Now she was unable to stop looking in his direction, their eyes meeting each time her dance turned her in his direction. A thought occurred to her suddenly: could her stalker and Pirouette's kidnapper be one and the same? It made sense, all things considered. The Ghost didn't have a reason to kidnap her daughter, but this guy certainly did. Now she knew what she needed to do. To save Pirouette, she needed to confront him once and for all.
Samba barely waited for the song to end before hurrying off stage, not even giving the audience time to praise her with more raucous howling and whistling. She didn't even wait to catch her breath, just taking a moment to towel off the sweat and briefly touch up her makeup before putting on her uniform in preparation to start serving drinks.
She began making the rounds, taking drink orders and delivering them to her satisfied customers. She only barely had the wherewithal to force her usual painted smile, but didn't linger at the tables to engage in idle pleasantries. She spent the whole time casting quick glances toward the stallion sitting in the corner booth, and every time she did, he was always staring back at her with that same unsettling gaze. Now that she was thinking about it, she did remember seeing this guy on many a night since she started working there, but didn't pay him much mind. She couldn't remember ever serving him a drink, though, but he would apparently sometimes leave generous tips along with the notes containing his phone number.
But tonight was the one night where she chose not to ignore him. After serving the last table of patrons their drinks, Samba returned to the bar with purpose. "One more, Tap. For the guy in the corner."
Tap glanced off at the lonely stallion, who was staring back, but not at him. "I didn't see you take his order."
"Just pour up the damn drink," she demanded with a furrowed brow.
"Okay, miss snippy, geez," Tap relented as he poured up one more mug of beer. "I'd appreciate it if you'd hang your attitude up at the door." He placed the frothy mug upon the tray and watched as Samba took it across the room.
For the first time since that fateful night, Samba was face to face with her stalker. She knew for certain now that it was him; there was no mistaking that look in his eyes, and it gave her chills. Still, she had a mission that she was determined to see through.
Just as an attempt to placate her curious coworker at the bar, Samba plastered on a smile for the hooded stallion. "Here's your drink."
For once, he took his eyes off of the dancer to look at the mug. "I didn't order anything," he said plainly.
"It's on the house."
He stared at her again. Despite the smile on her face, there was a certain intensity in her eyes, and her tone was uncharacteristically threatening. But the stallion said nothing as Samba continued to stand there even after serving him.
Eventually, Samba's patience reached its limit, and her forced grin vanished. "Where is she?" she finally asked, keeping her voice hushed.
He stayed quiet for a moment longer, observing the mixture of anger, worry, and desperation in her expression. "She's not hurt, if that's what you're wondering."
And that clinched it. He did kidnap Pirouette.
It was all Samba could do to not deck the guy right here and now, but she didn't want to run the risk of endangering her daughter. It was probably safer to just go along with his demands for now. "What do you want?"
Instead of answering, he removed a scrap of paper from the pocket of his hoodie with his magic, placing it on the table.
Samba eyed it suspiciously. This felt familiar. She took the paper and unfolded it. She was expecting to find his phone number in there like with all the other notes he'd left her. However, it was instead an address: "459 Trotter's Avenue." She didn't recognize the address, but she was pretty sure that it was somewhere downtown.
"Meet me there when you finish work," the stallion instructed. "And this goes without saying, but come alone."
Samba stared at him, expecting him to elaborate, but he didn't. She had some questions she wanted to ask before she ended up doing whatever it was he wanted from her. "Are you a changeling?" she asked discreetly.
He quietly considered the question before answering, "No."
"Are you the Ghost?" she followed up.
For once, his unyielding stare actually shifted slightly, his eyebrow cocking quizzically. "I... don't know what that means. Just meet me at the address."
Samba waited for more, but he said nothing else. His silence infuriated her, but she had no choice but to just do as she was told, as much as she hated it. She had so much she wanted to say to him—or rather, at him—but for Pirouette's sake, she opted to not rock the boat and return to her work.
His response to her last two questions was puzzling, however. If "Mandible" had been the one who kidnapped Pirouette, then logically they'd have to be either a changeling themselves, or the Ghost using the Spellmet. He sounded genuinely confused when asked about the Ghost, so she assumed he may have simply been lying about being a changeling. Whatever the case, she'd hopefully get her answers soon enough, she just had to have patience.
***** ***** *****
Closing time couldn't come soon enough. The moment Samba was done with her final set on the stage, she got herself cleaned up, washing off all her makeup. She had a hard time deciding if it would be more beneficial to be dolled up when meeting the guy. He was her stalker, so making herself look more enticing might make this exchange a little smoother. Then again, the idea of having to break out the feminine wiles for that dirtbag made her want to vomit more than holding Limbo's severed head ever did.
Samba didn't even wait for the remaining customers to clear out before making for the door.
"Uh, Samba, don't you want your tips?" Tap called out to her as she hurried past the bar.
"Keep 'em," was all she said, not even looking over her shoulder at him.
Tap just watched her disappear out the door. He would have questioned her odd behavior tonight, but who was he to turn down extra cash?
Samba trotted at a brisk pace down the sidewalk in the dead silence of the night, having a rough idea of where she was going. While she'd been preparing for her second set, she entered the address her stalker had given her into a G.P.S. app on her phone to locate the meeting place. He hadn't sent her any other messages since then either, and she noticed that he had apparently left before her second set, no doubt getting ready for their meeting.
She shuddered to think what it was he wanted from her. Given that he'd clearly been obsessing over her pretty much since she started working at The Brewery, whatever he had in mind couldn't have been anything sanitary. Samba had a feeling that, even if she managed to bring Pirouette home in one piece, she probably won't be able to do the same for her dignity, not that she had much of that left in the first place.
Samba slowed her roll at an intersection further downtown. She pulled out her spellphone to doublecheck the route to her destination. She needed to make a left to get to Trotter's Avenue. She placed her phone back in its sleeve and got back on track.
"So, just gonna go in there by yourself, huh?"
Samba halted in her tracks. She was caught a little off guard by the voice penetrating the otherwise quiet night air, but couldn't help but groan in slight aggravation when she recognized it. She turned around, spotting Limbo trotting up behind her with a cup from an all-night coffee shop.
"What are you doing here?" Samba hissed, still a little bitter after their altercation that day. "And don't say you were just out for a stroll."
"I was tailing you," Limbo stated frankly.
Samba knit her brow. "'Tailing me'? Why?"
"Hello? I'm a detective. It's kinda my job."
"I thought you're job was chasing the Ghost," Samba quipped bitingly.
Limbo sighed remorsefully. "Alright, I deserve that. But, listen, I want to talk to you."
"Well, I don't have time," Samba told her dismissively as she turned to continue on her way. "I have more important things to do."
Limbo hurried up alongside her, walking with her, much to Samba's chagrin. "So, I've been thinking..." she started, an apologetic frown upon her face. "You were right, I'll openly admit that."
Samba cast her a sidelong glance, listening with a minute amount of interest. She'd heard similar before, but was curious as to what she planned to say this time.
"You're not the first person to accuse me of having tunnel vision. Owl used to get on my case about that too. So I can see how you could interpret my insistence on helping you save Pira as an empty promise. I've been trailing you all day, hunkering down in a familiar alleyway while you were working, so I've seen how determined you are about this."
"Because we're talking about my daughter here," Samba stated resolutely.
"Exactly. That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about." She held out a hoof to stop Samba, looking her straight in the eye with utmost seriousness. "How many times have you told me that you're a bad mom? That, if it was between you and Pira, you wouldn't know what you'd do? And yet, here you are, stomping off with purpose to save her life with no regard for your own."
Samba blinked. That hadn't occurred to her until now. She had not only decided to find Pirouette by herself, but even stared down her stalker without fear despite the trauma he had previously caused her. And now she was going to meet him, having not given it a second thought knowing that her daughter's life was on the line.
Limbo prodded Samba firmly in the chest. "You are not the mare you keep telling me you are—that you keep telling yourself you are. Personally—and you can disagree with me on this—I blame Rhapsody. He's the one who put those thoughts in your head, and you refuse to argue with him on it because you still love him and depended on him so much."
Samba opened her mouth to speak, but found her gob plugged when Limbo stuck her hoof in it to stymy her incoming disagreement.
"Don't even. You're gonna continue to claim that you're useless, but I'm gonna tell you that you aren't. If you'll allow me to bring up the Ghost again, I wanna just say that we wouldn't be where we are in the investigation without you. We've made more progress in the last three weeks than I have in the past three years, and that's because of you."
Limbo removed her hoof from Samba's mouth, the dancer spitting a little in response to having to taste a zombie's partially-rotten flesh. Samba's ears flattened down in response to Limbo's insistence. "Come on, you're just saying that. You would have gotten to this point eventually without me. It's not like I'm the reason they kidnapped Sizzle Conifer or stole the Spellmet at the expo."
"Maybe, but this ain't a sci-fi movie. We ain't talking about some alternate timeline crap. I'm talking about the here and now. The fact of the matter is, you contributed something meaningful, whether you're willing to admit that or not." Limbo suddenly looked much more apologetic. "Which is why it's time I returned the favor. The Ghost can wait a little longer. I'm coming with you to save Pira. Then, I'm gonna track down your stalker and put him behind bars like I promised."
"Actually, Pira's kidnapper is my stalker."
"Oh. Well, talk about convenient. Two bird's with one stone, then. Although, I guess this means she wouldn't've gotten kidnapped in the first place if I had even tried to find him earlier. Geez, that means this is my fault on two different levels, huh? Sorry..."
Even if Limbo was right about that, Samba couldn't help but smile. "Look, you're not entirely to blame. You can insist that I'm actually a good mom all you want, but I'm absolutely not perfect, not even close. Although, you did kinda make me realize what it is I'm actually about to do, and now I'm suddenly pretty nervous about this," she said, her legs feeling a little shaky all of a sudden.
"All the more reason for me to go with you," Limbo claimed adamantly. "I am not gonna let that sleazeball touch a hair on your head."
Samba scratched her head uncertainly. "Well, the problem is he told me to come alone. If you come with me, we might just be putting Pira in more danger."
Limbo hummed in thought. "I'm sure we can find an angle to work from. I'll try to think of something on the way there," she said as the two of them started back down the street towards the meeting place.
"Limbo."
The detective turned to Samba, who had a remorseful frown on her face.
"Sorry for lashing out at you earlier. I was in a pretty volatile state at the time."
Limbo flicked a hoof dismissively. "Don't sweat it. I think my stubborn, zombified brain needed to hear it anyway."
Samba grinned gratefully. "I also want to say thanks."
Limbo tilted her head, puzzled. "For what?"
"For everything. Honestly, all that stuff you said about me probably wouldn't be the case if it weren't for you. It might sound cheesy, but you've been an inspiration to me. That's why I wanted to help you catch the Ghost in the first place."
Limbo shrugged in an attempt to appear aloof, but Samba could tell she was being bashful, even with the lack of a blush in her cheeks. "Well, don't thank me yet. Let's get Pira home safe and sound first, yeah?"
Samba nodded in agreement, their pace quickening slightly. On the way, Samba told Limbo about her meeting with the kidnapper.
"Trotter's Avenue, huh? That's just a warehouse district. Nothing there but storage buildings. Guess he wanted to meet somewhere where there won't be anypony around at this time of night."
It didn't take much longer for them to get to Trotter's Avenue, and as Limbo said, the streets were lined with large lots surrounding countless enormous warehouses. What was in them was anypony's guess, not that Samba and Limbo cared. There was only one building here that they were interested in, and the two of them kept their eyes on the numbered gates until they found the one displaying "459." Well, it displayed "59" anyway, in rusted, metal numbers, but the "4" was laying on the ground beneath the gate.
This particular warehouse looked to be abandoned. As evidenced by the number, the gate was in a state of disrepair, some of the metal bars being bent and rusted. It appeared as though the gate was once locked, but the chains that had been holding it shut were broken. And given how rusted the chains also were, it was safe to say that they weren't broken recently; probably by some hoodlums or teenagers looking for an out-of-the-way spot to hang out. Whatever the case, the gate was open for them. The lot inside looked more like a junkyard, with random scrap and garbage scattered around, and even some rundown-looking freight carriages that appeared to have not been used in some years if the lack of wheels were any indication.
The warehouse itself loomed over them, also looking in rather a sorry state. Some of the metal siding had been torn off the walls, and several of the windows up near the perimeter of the roof were broken, no doubt by the aforementioned teenagers tossing rocks at them for some kicks.
"You think this is safe?" Samba asked worriedly.
"Pfft, no," Limbo scoffed as though that should have been obvious. "Hostage situations are pretty nerve-wracking. I've been involved with one or two during my time on the force, and part of me is glad I'm not a negotiator. I can have a tendency to rub people the wrong way sometimes. Speaking of which, it's probably not a good idea for me to waltz in there with you if he asked you to come alone."
"So what are you going to do? Now that I'm here, I'm starting to realize how dumb it would've been to come here alone, but how are you supposed to help if you can't come in with me?"
Limbo cast her a reassuring, cocksure grin. "I sincerely hope you didn't think it was just the two of us."
With that statement, Webber crawled out from underneath Limbo's eyepatch—a sight that Samba was a little ashamed to say she'd gotten used to at this point.
"I brought along our infiltration specialist. We'll keep a low profile out here and try to find a more discreet way in. A rundown place like this has gotta have a few holes I can squeeze through."
"What should I do once I'm in there?" Samba asked, a little concerned for her own safety.
"I doubt he's gonna give over Pira right away until you meet whatever demands he makes of you, and my past experience with going after stalker types tells me that those demands are not gonna be pleasant. My advice would be to try and stall the guy as long as you can until I can sneak in."
"How do I do that?"
"The hay should I know? He's your stalker. I'm sure you can say or do something to keep him occupied until I can get the jump on him. In the movies, that would be the part where the villain monologues excessively, giving the hero time to think of something or for backup to arrive."
"This isn't a movie, Limbo," Samba deadpanned. "And this guy didn't seem very talkative."
Limbo rolled her eye with a groan. "Whaddaya want from me? Just get in there and do something, okay?"
With that, Limbo started to poke around the area, eyeing up the warehouse for an alternate entrance. Samba was left to stare at the large delivery shutter at the front of the building. It seemed to be locked tight, but there was a personnel entrance just beside it, so she figured that was the most obvious place to start.
Samba cautiously turned the handle and the rusty door creaked open slowly. She wasn't sure why she was being so careful about it. The kidnapper was expecting her, so it wasn't like he was going to be surprised. Maybe she just subconsciously assumed their might be some sort of trap rigged to the door. But when nothing happened, she poked her head inside to take a look around.
The inside of the building didn't look much better than the outside, not that Samba could see much of it in the darkness. The little light there was was coming in through the skylights in the ceiling, the glow of the moon offering some help with her vision. The place was mostly empty, devoid of anything useful to anycreature; just some scrap and busted-up furniture that somepony couldn't be bothered to drag to the dump. The only fixtures of any interest were the catwalks overhead, but that wasn't really of any importance to Samba.
What was important was the figure standing in the middle of the warehouse. Samba felt a mixture of worry and anger coming over her again—worry for both Pirouette and herself. It was definitely her stalker standing there, clad in the same dark hoodie she'd seen him wearing earlier, and even on the night he tried to assault her, like he didn't own anything else. His eyes were locked onto Samba as she entered, his unnerving gaze somehow more visible to her than anything else in this darkness.
However, there was still something missing from this picture...
Samba steeled herself and walked inside, shutting the door behind her. She cautiously approached the stallion, but still kept some distance in case he tried to pull a fast one. "Okay, I came just like you asked. Now, where's my daughter?" she demanded.
"Not here," he stated plainly.
Samba felt her temple throb, her bile rising at this response. She grit her teeth at him furiously. "I thought we were supposed to make an exchange," she reminded him, doing her best to try and keep her voice level and avoid shouting.
"I have some demands to make."
"I'm not doing anything until you tell me where she is!"
"She's safe. Is that good enough for you?"
Samba scowled contemptuously. "All I'm asking is that you prove to me that she's okay. I want to see her."
"I... can't do that right now," he answered, looking a little flustered himself.
"Why not?"
He composed himself, attempting to look stern once more. "I don't have to answer your questions. She's safe, but that doesn't mean she's not in danger."
Samba cocked an eyebrow. "The hay does that mean?"
"It's a threat. And you're not in a position to assume it's an empty one."
Samba had no idea what he was trying to insinuate, but he had a point, unfortunately. She couldn't and shouldn't do anything that might endanger her daughter at this point. The safest play was to just go along with this until Limbo could find a way to help.
She let out a reluctant sigh. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to this, but she had no choice but to ask. "What do you want from me?" she asked in a defeated voice.
He didn't answer right away, but through the darkness, Samba could have sworn she saw his face glowing red. "A private dance."
Samba's mouth hung open, bewildered by the oddly simple request. "Huh? That's it? Just a dance?"
"I've been..." He looked away, embarrassed apparently. "...enamored with you since I first laid eyes on you at that bar. You're the most beautiful mare I've ever seen, and the way you dance is so graceful and alluring."
Samba grumbled quietly to herself. There was no way she was going to be flattered by a comment like that from a creep like this. That's not exactly the impression she got from the stares he kept giving her. She preferred the shallow catcalling from the drunks over this guy's pathetic attempt at being endearing. If he thought that little confession was going to make this whole scenario look romantic, he had another thing coming, especially if he thought that kidnapping her daughter would make things better.
She was ready to tear this freak a new one for what he's done to her. However, it occurred to her that she might be able to take advantage of this. His stoic attitude had suddenly faltered, a deep crimson blush filling his cheeks. If his feelings for her were true—as misguided as they were—then that meant that Samba may have had more control here than she realized. If she played her cards right, she might be able to handle this without Limbo's help.
As disgusting as the notion was, Samba made the decision to play along. "Really?" she said, feigning her bashfulness and understanding. She took a few steps closer to him, doing her best to appear compassionate. She was starting to wish she'd left her makeup on to pull this tug of war further in her direction. "If you had just told me that in the first place, then we might not need to be in this situation."
The stallion rubbed his neck awkwardly. "I-I'm... not good at talking to pretty mares."
"Wouldn't've guessed..." Samba muttered under her breath. She cast him a sultry look, turning her stomach in the process. "But, there's no reason we can't right this wrong, is there? All you want is a dance, right? Then you'll let my daughter go?"
He hesitated, unable to make eye contact with her.
It seemed Samba needed to really butter this guy up in order to wrap him around her hoof. She collected all the willpower she had, and slid up directly in front of him, batting her eyelashes seductively. "You'll let her go, right? I'll even make this dance... extra special."
She watched as his blue-grey coat turned beet red, and he swallowed anxiously.
Samba was both proud and ashamed of herself at the same time, but she just needed to remember that she was doing this for Pirouette's sake.
But before she could say anything else, Samba noticed something. Now that she was within extremely close proximity to the guy, she could see something underneath his hood. He was wearing something on his head that hadn't been there when they met earlier. Samba's eyes went wide—something the stallion might have noticed if he hadn't been too flustered and awkward to make direct eye contact. A pair of bands were fitted snuggly over his horn, and the rest of the accessory appeared to be made of plastic and metal.
Was that a Spellmet?
She couldn't believe it. It was. It looked a little different from the one that was stolen from the Magi-Tech Expo, but it was similar enough to be recognizable. There was no way—no way that this creepy and misguided loser was actually the Ghost. But that at least answered the question of how he had disguised himself as Mandible. He must've lied about not knowing what the Ghost was.
This was definitely an unexpected revelation. What was worse was the idea of seeing the smarmy look on Limbo's face when she found out she was right from the start. If Samba hadn't already felt like a real jerk for the way she'd acted earlier, she certainly did now.
But this could be a good thing. Maybe if she played her cards right, she could save Pirouette and his other victims. So, it was time to really turn on the charm.
Samba backed away slightly, but maintained her forced, alluring smile. "So, should we get started then?"
He just nodded, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than he'd intended given the red glow in his face.
And so, after taking a brief moment to swallow her dignity, Samba began her private show for this scumbag. She moved with all the grace and fluidity she always did when she danced on stage, but this was the first time she'd ever given a private performance for anypony other than Rhapsody. Even if the extra cash would've been nice, she'd never been tempted to offer private dances before; she wasn't sure she trusted a bunch of slovenly, inebriated stallions to keep their hooves to themselves, let alone this guy.
Still, she soldiered on, making her performance as enticing as possible. At this moment, Samba was channeling her inner siren, attempting to use her attractive curves to brainwash this creep into surrendering to her and forcing him to release his captives. It seemed to be going well so far. His eyes were glued to her alluring form as she danced. He may have been pretty intimidating during their previous encounters, but ultimately he was just another man, and thus susceptible to the charms of a pretty lady. She just needed to endure this humiliation until he submitted.
As she danced, Samba happened to catch a glimpse of movement above them. Discreetly glancing upward whenever she would turn in that direction, she was certain she spotted Limbo sneaking across the catwalks overhead. She must've found a staircase outside leading to the upper level of the warehouse. It looked like she wouldn't have to put up with this for much longer. She just had to make sure he kept his attention on her while Limbo devised a plan of attack.
Samba slid over to the stallion, placing herself just inches from his face, which certainly seemed to please him if the goofy grin on his face was any indication. "How are you enjoying the show so far?" she asked, though she didn't really want the answer.
"Uh... I-It's great. A-Absolutely beautiful," he stammered awkwardly.
Samba almost wanted to start laughing. He was already like putty in her hooves. She'd always hated mares that used their good looks and feminine wiles to manipulate men for personal gain, but she was starting to see why they did if it was this easy.
"Well, we're just getting started, big boy," she said, making herself want to puke. "So just sit back and—"
Suddenly, they were both distracted by a metallic clinking sound from above, followed by a quiet, "Oops."
Samba's face turned white as the stallion finally took his eyes off of her, knowing exactly what it was he was going to see. They both looked up, but Samba was able to react quickly enough to back off when she saw a monkey wrench hurtling down towards them, striking the stallion square in the forehead. He collapsed to the floor as he clutched his head with his hooves, groaning in pain.
Samba just stared, a little dumbfounded by the unexpected interruption. She looked up to see Limbo leaning over the railing.
"Uh, I meant to do that."
"Dang it, Limbo, I had this under control," Samba called up to her.
"How was I supposed to know that? All you were doing was dancing."
"Exactly! He was completely entranced! I had him right where I wanted him!"
"Well, excuse me, I had no idea you made a habit of using your butt to hypnotize people."
"Can you not put it like that?" Samba requested, feeling pretty dirty all of a sudden.
The stallion laboriously rose back to his hooves, rubbing the lump that was forming on his head. "I-I told you to come alone," he said, trying to sound upset, though he was clearly a little dizzy from the blow.
Samba suddenly became overcome with worry, afraid that he might make good on his threat since she had tricked him. "Limbo! Hurry!"
"Coming!" Limbo made a mad dash for a staircase leading down, sliding down the railing and charging toward the stallion.
"Stop right there!" he demanded, pulling back his hood to properly reveal the device on his head.
Limbo halted in her tracks, completely caught off guard by the presence of the Spellmet. "Holy crap! Is that the...? Are you...?"
"I've got a bunch of dangerous spells at my disposal," he threatened. "If you two so much as take another step, I'll teleport straight to where the girl is and... and I'll kill her."
Samba looked pleadingly at Limbo. The detective reluctantly backed off, as difficult as that was for her given who it was standing before her, but it was for Pirouette's safety.
"Alright, let's all just chill out for a sec here, yeah?" Limbo urged the stallion. "We can still negotiate something here."
"I-I made my instructions clear," he repeated. He was clearly attempting to sound threatening, but there was a distinct note of uncertainty in his shaky voice as his eyes darted back and forth between Samba and Limbo.
Samba took a step forward in desperation. "Please, I just want my daughter back. I... I can still give you what you want," she surrendered, on the verge of tears for fear of Pirouette's fate.
"D-Don't move," he warned them, taking a step back himself.
Limbo could tell he was struggling to figure out what exactly he was going to do in this situation. It seemed odd to her that somepony as thorough as the Ghost wouldn't have planned for this scenario.
The stallion bit his lip nervously before finally making a decision. "Screw it. I'm out of here."
Samba watched as his horn lit up, the Spellmet's lights glowing along with it. Panic came over her when she realized he was about to teleport away without telling them where Pirouette was. "Wait!"
But instead of vanishing, the kidnapper's horn simply fizzled out, the lights on the Spellmet flickering weakly, and no spell went off. He glanced up at his horn with a puzzled expression. "Huh? Wh-What happened? It was working fine earlier."
Limbo wasted no time capitalizing on this opportunity, rushing the guy down. A fearful look upon his face now that his one weapon wasn't functioning, the stallion attempted to flee on hoof, but only managed to get a few feet before Limbo tackled him and pinned him to the ground. He tried casting some more spells in his desperation, but once again, his horn only flickered like a worn down sparkler, the Spellmet's lights glowing dimly and erratically.
Without any way to fight back, he resorted to the coward's defense. "I'm sorry! Please, don't hurt me! I-I don't want to go to jail!" he begged pathetically.
"Little late for that, pal. I would've arrested you even if you hadn't kidnapped Pira."
"Wh-What if I tell you where she is? Will you let me go?" he pleaded.
"You're not in a position to negotiate anymore, dude."
"Limbo."
The detective glanced back at Samba.
"Just... I want Pira back. Please."
"This guy's your stalker, and you want to let him go?!" Limbo balked.
"If it means getting her back, yes," Samba answered resolutely.
Limbo grumbled disagreeably. "Alright, tell us first, and I promise I'll let you go."
"Y-You're lying," he stammered doubtfully.
"Look, either way, we're gonna get the info out of you eventually. You can tell us at the precinct, or you can tell us now. Pick your poison. I could also break your leg. That's an option as well." She punctuated the threat by pulling back on his right front leg.
"A-Alright, alright, I'll tell you!" he conceded. "Th-there's a white, single-story building around the corner, big window on the front. She's in there. Probably in the basement or something."
Limbo cocked an eyebrow. "'Probably'?"
"Well, that's where he told me to drop her off."
Limbo and Samba exchanged surprised looks. The detective leaned down aggressively. "Who's 'he'?! You got an accomplice?!"
"H-He's—"
Before he could get another word out, the Spellmet suddenly starting flashing wildly. Magical and electrical sparks began to spew from the device and the stallion grunted in pain and started to convulse. Limbo got off him, stepping away from the potentially dangerous situation. She and Samba could only stand there in confusion and shock as a violent surge of magic burst around the kidnapper's horn. Following that, the sparking stopped, and his convulsing ceased, leaving only a smoky trail rising from the device and a burning smell in the air.
Again, the two mares just stared in bewilderment at the stallion's now motionless form.
"Wha...? What the hay just happened?" Samba uttered.
Limbo cautiously approached him, leaning down to examine his face. The stallion's eyes were rolled back into his head, and he'd stopped breathing. "Uh... He's dead."
"Dead? Just like that?"
"Looks like it." Limbo scratched her head, feeling a little underwhelmed by this conclusion. "Well, he won't be stalking you anymore, so that's one mission accomplished on my part at least."
"But what exactly happened there?" Samba pondered curiously.
"Looked like the thing malfunctioned or something. I told Career these things looked dangerous."
"Maybe you broke it when you dropped that wrench on him."
Limbo grimaced, disgruntled by the accusation. "Oh, yeah, sure, blame it on me. Real classy."
Samba grimaced at the corpse laying on the floor. "I don't know how I feel about how many dead bodies I've seen in the last couple of weeks. But at least we know where Pira is. We need to go find her," she insisted.
"Hang on."
Samba watched as Limbo turned the corpse over onto his back and reached into the pocket of his hoodie. "What, you're looting corpses now? Not exactly an honorable detective, are you?"
"Shut up, I'm looking for clues—ow!" Limbo retracted her hoof, holding the blade of a knife.
"What was he doing with a knife?" Samba questioned. She gulped nervously. "H-He wasn't planning to kill me, was he?"
"It would seem that way. Guess he wasn't that attached to you after all," Limbo said, tossing the knife aside and allowing her minor cut to heal itself before reaching back into his pocket. "Hmm, what do we have here?" She removed a spellphone from the hoodie, looking it over.
"Yeah, I recognize it from the stickers on the case."
Limbo turned it over to find a bunch of super girly-looking stickers of flowers and sparkles plastered all over it. She grimaced at the sight. "Guess there's no accounting for taste with that girl, huh?"
"Let me see that."
Limbo passed her the phone.
Samba turned it on, immediately quirking an eyebrow. "Wait, I think this was on the whole time."
"How do you know that?"
"It says a call ended just a minute ago that lasted half an hour."
Limbo's interest piqued with that information. "Who was he calling?"
"Says 'Unknown Name.' The other person's phone must be hacked too."
Limbo abruptly snatched the phone back. "But we know now that he had an accomplice, right? His partner must've been listening in the whole time. And given that this guy had one of those devices, it's probably safe to assume that he's another one of the Ghost's scapegoats."
Samba's mind was suddenly overcome with worry. "Th-Then Pira might still be in danger! We have to go find her!"
"Yeah, but there might be something in this phone that can still help us."
No sooner had she said that did smoke begin to seep out of the spellphone's case. Recalling what happened to the stalker, Limbo dropped it on the ground immediately, and an audible, electric pop inside the phone caused the screen to crack and go dark.
Limbo and Samba exchanged looks, the detective lifting her hooves defensively. "Okay, that was not my fault. I didn't touch a thing." She stared back down at the phone, a curious thought coming to her. "Hang on a second. Didn't Leaf tell us earlier that Mandible's phone was already broken? He said somepony stepped on it and crushed it. So, what was it doing here, in this guy's pocket, perfectly functional? You know, until now."
Samba pondered that question for only a moment before shaking her head. "We can think about that later. Right now, I just want to find Pira."
Limbo nodded fervently, not wanting to return to their old argument. "Right, right, sorry! Let's hurry!"
The pair hurried out of the warehouse, making a beeline for the building that the now deceased kidnapper claimed Pirouette was being held inside. As long as he wasn't lying, the place should be close by. Samba and Limbo rounded the corner they had originally come from, getting off of Trotter's Avenue and eyeing up the buildings on the next street. It didn't take long to find the building in question, as it was just a little ways from the corner and easily identifiable from the description the kidnapper had given them.
Samba approached the large window out front, trying to peer inside. However, the closest streetlight had apparently blown its bulb and nopony had been sent out to fix it yet, so it was too dark for Samba to see inside, even by the light of her spellphone. So, obviously the next course of action was to try the door. She jiggled the handle, but it appeared to be locked.
Samba gulped worriedly. "Um, he didn't happen to have a key on him, did he?"
Limbo shook her head. "Only the knife and phone. Didn't find anything else in his pocket."
Samba sighed as an idea came to her, though she wasn't confident it would work. She lowered her head, pointing her horn at the handle. Limbo watched as her horn began to glow a pale pink, clearly attempting to use her magic to pick the lock. This was only the second time Limbo had ever seen Samba even try to use her magic since she met her, a testament to just how desperate she was to save Pirouette.
Unfortunately, Samba's horn fizzled out, leaving the mare panting lightly. She let out a disappointed and ashamed breath through her nostrils. "Well, it was worth a try..."
Limbo looked over the building, particularly at the big window. "I guess if we can't open the door, then we'll just have to make our own way in. Stand back."
Limbo started to take a few steps back, and Samba had an idea of what she was planning to do, so she backed away from the building herself. Limbo charged forward, leaping headfirst at the window. But instead of the expected sound of shattering glass, came a hollow thud and a low crunch as Limbo's face firmly bashed itself against the window and the mare dropped to the ground.
"Oooow..." Limbo groaned nasally as the necromancy spell worked to fix her broken muzzle. She stood up with a disgruntled grimace. "Shatterproof. Figures. Who the hay can afford shatterproof windows in this part of town?"
"What are we supposed to do now?" Samba asked, on the verge of panic once again. "Pirouette's in there somewhere, potentially with the Ghost! We have to find a way in!"
"Relax, okay, I'm thinking." Limbo looked over the building once more. Her eyes turned up to the roof. From street level, she could see the edge of a vent on the roof. "Alright, I have an idea. Follow me."
Samba followed Limbo into an alleyway to the left of the building, out of sight from anypony who might happen to be out for a late night stroll. "What's the plan?" she asked impatiently.
"Okay, first of all—and I'm gonna need you to follow me on this one—I want you to rip my head off."
Samba blanched at the request. "What? Why?"
"Just trust me, alright?"
"How am I even supposed to do that?"
"My flesh isn't in pristine condition, as I'm sure you've seen. You just gotta pull real hard. Here, I'll even make it easy for you." Limbo placed her hooves on her head, then twisted her head violently with the sickening crack of her vertebrae.
Samba winced in disgust. It was a rather disturbing sight to see her head limply leaning to one side while she just smiled nonchalantly, like something out of a horror movie.
"Alright, now, yank my head off quick before it fixes itself. I don't want to have to break my own neck more times than I have to. I might be dead, but it still hurts like the dickens."
Samba shuddered, but she didn't really have time to question her. She grabbed Limbo's head, closed her eyes, and pulled as hard as she could. She heard the gross sound of separating flesh and sinew, followed by the snap of her spinal cord as her head was freed from her body. Samba opened her eyes again, looking down at the severed head in her hooves.
"This brings back memories, huh?" Limbo chuckled.
"Forgive me if I'm not in a reminiscing mood," Samba said, trying to fight her gag reflex. "So, what do I do now?"
"I want you to toss my head up onto the roof."
Samba arched an eyebrow in confusion. "Why? What are you gonna be able to do as a head?"
"Didn't I tell you to trust me? Once you get me up there, you're gonna be praising my brilliance," Limbo boasted with a cocksure grin.
Samba rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say." She looked up to the roof, and with an underhoofed throw, hurled Limbo's head up.
The severed head bonked off the wall a couple of feet short and fell back down, landing in a nearby dumpster. Samba leaned over the edge of the dumpster with an apologetic look.
"I'm guessing you weren't on your high school's buckball team," Limbo deadpanned.
"In my defense, unicorn's usually handle the baskets. Pegasi and earth ponies are the ones who throw the balls," Samba corrected.
"Whatever, who cares? Now, get me outta here and try again. With a little more oomph this time please."
Samba pulled Limbo's head out of the dumpster. She briefly glanced at Limbo's headless body, which was just standing there, tapping her hoof impatiently. "Why can't you just throw your own head? You're probably stronger than me."
"Because it'd be a little hard to line up the throw considering I'd be throwing the thing I need to line it up. Even if I had depth perception, that'd be a tough shot to make. Come on, you can do it. You almost made that shot."
Samba groaned, her own patience reaching its limit. Not wanting to waste anymore time, she held Limbo's head with both hooves, stood on her hind legs, and chucked Limbo as hard as she could with a strained grunt.
Limbo's head barely clipped the lip of the roof, but managed to tumble and roll into position. "Nice throw," she complimented.
"What do you see up there?" Samba called out.
"Well, there's a roof access door, so that's good. In retrospect, it was probably haphazard to do this without knowing if I'd be able to retrieve my head, but whatever, it worked out. Now, to execute my ingenious plan. Webber, you're up, buddy."
Webber crawled out of her eye socket, awaiting further instructions.
"Alright, super spy, I'm gonna need you to crawl into that vent there and go unlock the front door, got it?"
The spider immediately scurried off and slipped into the vent.
Samba held a hoof to the bridge of her nose with a sigh. "Wait, so, your whole plan was to have Webber unlock the door?"
"Yeah, pretty smart, right?" Limbo bragged, patting herself on the back—figuratively, of course.
"Then why'd I have to throw your head up there? He's a spider. He can climb walls."
Limbo blinked, groaning in annoyance. "Well, where was your hindsight a couple of minutes ago?"
"You were the one who was being all secretive about it. Besides, if we had thought of it then, it wouldn't be hindsight, it'd just be an idea."
"Alright, I get it! Glory to Technicles, God of Corrections, sheesh! You wanna just go wait for Webber to unlock the door?" Limbo griped in frustration.
Samba just shook her head, guiding Limbo's blind body back to the front of the building. After waiting a few minutes, she heard the click of the door's lock. She hesitated for a moment, slowly opening the door and poking her head in. It wasn't like she'd see anything through the darkness even if there were somepony waiting to ambush her. The only thing visible within her short line of sight was Webber as he skittered outside and crawled up onto Limbo's back.
"Let me see if I can find the door to the roof," Samba called up to Limbo's head.
"Don't bother with that, I can manage with Webber's help. You should go find Pira as soon as you can to make sure she's safe."
Samba gulped apprehensively. "But... what about that guy's accomplice? He might be—"
"Hey, listen to me. I'd tell you to look me in the eye, but, well... Anyway, you got this, okay? You need to give yourself more credit. Just go, I'll catch up in a minute."
Samba wasn't quite as confident as Limbo seemed to be, but she was incredibly worried about Pirouette. She decided not to question Limbo and just find her daughter, so she hurried into the building, using her phone to light the way.
Pirouette's kidnapper presumed that she was being kept in the basement, so Samba looked around for a door. The only thing she could see in the immediate area were some long tables, but after shining the light around, she spotted a couple of doors, one wooden and one metal. If she had to venture a guess, the metal one probably went up to the roof, so she briefly pointed it out to Webber and the spider tapped Limbo's back with his legs to direct her sightless body toward it. Samba headed for the wooden door, where she found what appeared to be a kitchen, but she didn't pay it much mind since there was another door nearby. She opened that one to find a staircase leading down into the unsettling darkness; that was about as basement-like as she could hope for.
Cautiously, she descended the stairs, feeling a fearful pit in her stomach. The darkness combined with the creaking of the wooden steps under her hooves made her feel like she was in a horror movie. She half expected her phone's battery to run out at this moment, leaving her trapped in the pitch blackness. A quick glance at her phone showed that she was just being paranoid, as it was still at seventy percent power, and she made it to the bottom without anything spooky happening. Now she just needed to navigate this creepy basement.
Samba froze suddenly when she heard what sounded like hoofsteps behind her, but when she spun around to shine a light toward the stairs, she saw nothing. She gulped nervously, her legs quivering. She both wished that Limbo were with her, but also a little glad she wasn't; she'd probably just call her a big baby.
But that thought did remind her that she had somepony else to worry about more than herself. She needed to stop being paranoid and find Pirouette.
Meanwhile, back upstairs, Limbo's body felt its way around like a blind mare, and Webber was her seeing eye dog. Once Samba had left to start her search for Pirouette, the spider directed Limbo toward the roof access door, though she started growing a little aggravated around the third time she struck her leg on one of the tables. She eventually found the door, feeling around beyond it for the staircase. She managed her way up the winding stairway until she found another door and pushed it open. The cool, night air grazed her fur, but even without that she knew she was on the roof because she could see her own body stepping outside from her head's lopsided vantage point.
"There we go," she said to herself as she picked up her head and let the necromancy spell sew it back onto her neck. She let Webber crawl onto her hoof, giving him an accusatory glare. "Admit it, you made me run into those tables on purpose, didn't you?"
He reacted by scuttling in place, the little dance a sign of his amusement. If he could laugh, Limbo knew she'd be listening to his incessant tittering right about now.
"Just get in there, you dingus," she ordered him, lifting her eyepatch for him to crawl back into her skull. "Now, then, gotta hurry and catch up to Samba."
Limbo hurried back downstairs, but the moment she made it back down to the previous room, she felt something violently strike her in the side of the head with a metallic clang, the forceful impact once again separating her head from her shoulders and sending it rolling across the room.
Limbo's ears were ringing, and her vision blurred, the discombobulating blow causing her to become incredibly dizzy and disoriented. Her brain could barely form a complete thought as she teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, her headless body unable to remain standing and collapsing limply to the floor. With what little awareness she still possessed, she could see the fuzzy form of a pony walking toward her in the darkness, brandishing what she could only assume was a frying pan.
"I'm getting a distinct feeling of déjà vu here. How about you, Limbo?" came the voice of the pony.
Limbo could swear she recognized that voice, but her brain was too addled at the moment to properly match it with a face. She felt her consciousness slipping, her eye beginning to drift shut. The last thing she could discern before she passed out, as her attacker bent down to pick up her head, was a white mane with a red stripe.
With the darkness surrounding her and unsettling noises creeping her out, Samba's first instinct within the pitch black basement was to find a light switch. She just hoped that this place wasn't abandoned and still had power. As she scanned the walls, she couldn't help but notice the peculiar, earthy scent that filled the basement. It smelled like dirt and fresh vegetables.
She did eventually find a light switch and flicked it on. With a deep sigh of relief, Samba finally let her muscles relax as light chased away the darkness, revealing that she was, in fact, alone in the basement. Now that she had her bearings, she could take a better look around.
The basement was rather large and spacious, but more interesting was the many shelves lining the walls, full of bottled food and assorted vegetables—so many vegetables in fact that there were sacks of them just laying around on the floor. That, along with the entirely unpainted, plywood walls, made this place feel more like a cellar than a basement; just a place to store preserved food. In conjunction with that, along the right wall were two large, metal doors that Samba could only assume were freezers for storing the more perishable items. She confirmed that theory by simply opening one and peering inside, finding nothing but more vegetables packed away on the shelves in the chilly room beyond.
While Samba felt safe that there was nopony around, that created a worrying conundrum: where was Pirouette? There was nowhere down there that she could be. Had her stalker simply lied in a desperate gamble to get away? If so, what was she supposed to do now? He was dead. She had nothing else to go on but what he'd told them. Her daughter could be anywhere.
Not really having any other option, Samba looked around the basement one more time, hoping desperately that maybe there was something she overlooked. Behind the shelves, inside both freezers; there had to be some clue around here.
She looked over at the freezer doors one more time. There was something that struck her as odd. To the right of the freezers was another shelf, just like all the others that lined the walls of the basement. The only difference was that it was completely bare. Every other shelf was chock full of food and ingredients, so much so that there were bags of vegetables and bottles of preserves laying haphazardly around the floor. The place was a total mess despite the fact that there was a perfectly good place to store all the excess supplies.
Now that she looked closer, Samba determined that the space occupied by the empty shelf was just the right size for a third freezer. While most people might not pay heed to details so minute, Samba had learned a thing or two about observing one's surrounding acutely over the past few weeks. So, out of curiosity, Samba pulled the shelf aside and examined the wall behind it.
There was definitely a single piece of plywood in the wall that was about the same shape and size as the freezer doors. Perhaps there once was a third freezer here, but it was removed. But why do that? There seemed to be more food stuffs stored down there than they had shelf room for, even with one empty shelf and the freezers stuffed full. Wouldn't having a third freezer be useful for keeping things a little more tidy and organized?
Samba glanced back at the other freezer doors. Beside each one was a little digital display, no doubt the temperature controls. Looking back to the suspicious space in the wall, she could also see a smaller piece of plywood covering the spot where there would be a panel if there was indeed a third freezer. Upon closer inspection, this particular piece wasn't even nailed in, just fitted there naturally—imperceptible if nopony were looking for it.
Samba channeled her inner detective. There had to be a reason as to why this "freezer" would be walled off. Something was being concealed here, and she had a pretty good idea as to what that might be.
She looked around for something she could use to pry the little piece of plywood out of the wall, but found nothing. With a sigh, she decided to take a shot in the dark once more, concentrating, clenching her eyes shut, and focusing as much magic as she could into her horn. She could hear the magic sputtering uselessly, but she had to keep trying—she had to save her daughter.
After a few moments, Samba was startled by the sound of wooden clattering on the floor. She looked down, finding the square of plywood laying at her hooves, and a hole in the wall now exposed. She almost wanted to jump in the air to celebrate an accomplishment that any normal five year old unicorn could manage, but she had more important things to focus on.
Removing the plywood revealed a simple, black button. Of course, she instinctively pushed it. The moment she did, a mechanical hiss of pressurized air came from the wall, and the wall itself began to slowly swing open.
Samba was taken aback by what was inside, even if it was what she had been expecting and hoping to find.
Within the space behind the wall were fifteen mangy-looking people staring back at her, wide-eyed—twelve unicorns, two changelings, and a single kirin—each one with an inhibitor ring affixed to their horns, and each one of them vaguely familiar to Samba. But it was one in particular that had really caught her attention.
"Mommy!"
The door hadn't even finished opening all the way before Pirouette came running, leaping into her mother's loving embrace. Samba held her daughter tightly, tears of joyous relief immediately flowing down her cheeks.
"Pira! Thank Celestia you're okay! Mommy was so worried."
"Samba!"
The mare looked up to find Mandible rushing over to turn the embrace into a group hug, the changeling weeping more openly than Samba. After a few moments, Mandible released Samba and wiped the tears from her eyes, but noticed the skeptical look she was giving her.
"It's really me, promise," Mandible assured her, knowing what was going through her mind.
Given the circumstances and the inhibitor ring on her horn, Samba saw no reason to not trust her, giving her a warm smile. "I'm glad you're okay too, Mandi."
Samba then set her eyes on the other people inside the room, their coats and manes unkempt and dirty, and their faces full of cautious hope. There was no doubt about it: these were all of the Ghost's victims. Samba recognized them from the corkboard in Limbo's old apartment. But one specific mare stood out to her more than the others. Her coat was jet black, her mane and tail striped with red and purple, and she had a couple of studs in one of her ears. Even without the heavy eyeliner from her photo, she still had a pretty dark, gothic, almost unsettling air about her, especially with her bright red irises. Samba had already heard quite a lot about this mare. She was also the only one who seemed to be perfectly calm, just a small grin on her face as she looked back at Samba, while the rest were wrestling between relief and skepticism.
The black mare began to approach Samba, but was cut off by the lone kirin in the group, his coat a pale white, mane a light purple, and scales ashy grey. He brushed past everypony else with a haughty huff, staring down his nose at Samba.
"About time. Took you long enough to rescue us, didn't it?" he complained. He raised his hoof speaking in a dramatically exaggerated tone. "Was not our plight motivating enough? Was not your conviction strong enough that you would tarry as we inched ever closer to the great darkness beyond?"
Samba just quirked an eyebrow at the kirin.
The black mare trotted over with a disgruntled look on her face, prodding the kirin in the chest. "Yo, Sizz? Shutcha face for a minute. You've been here for, what, a month? You ain't got any room to be whinin' as much as you have been compared to most of us in here." She pointed a hoof to Samba. "This mare just saved our lives. So, instead of actin' like a stuck-up prima donna, maybe try showin' a little appreciation, yeah?"
The kirin—whom Samba could safely assume at this point was Sizzle Conifer—lowered his head like a child scolded, casting a reluctant, apologetic look at Samba. "Er, right, sorry... Th-Thank you..."
"Uh, it's fine," Samba told him, though, truth be told, her attention was focused on the black mare and her... unexpected manner of speech.
The captives all exited the cramped room, finally breathing sighs of relief to taste freedom after such a long time.
"You're Samba, right?"
Samba turned back to the black mare. It was almost kind of surreal to actually be meeting her face to face finally. "Yeah. And you're... Poe Ravensong, right?"
"You got it." Poe noticed the way that Samba was staring at her; seemingly puzzled. "You okay?"
"Oh, sorry. I guess, in my head, I imagined you sounding a little different."
Poe cocked an eyebrow. "What, didja expect me to sound like some kinda valley girl or somethin'?"
"Uh, not exactly. Maybe... I'm just not used to hearing that accent around here."
Poe shrugged. "Yeah, well, my dad's a mafioso, soooo..."
Samba took a step back in shock. "What?! B-But Limbo said there was no mafia in Baltimare!"
Poe laughed at her reaction. "Relax, I'm just joshin' ya. I'm from Manehattan, that's all. My family moved here when I was just a tot. Guess the accent just kinda stuck around."
Samba breathed a sigh of relief, smiling back at her, though a little awkwardly. At least she now had an understanding of from where Limbo got some of her own mannerisms. With that question answered, she now had another one. "Wait, you know who I am?"
"Course I do, you kiddin'?" Poe placed a hoof on Pirouette's head, tousling her curly mane playfully. "The little squirt here never stopped talkin' 'bout you since she got here. She's been goin' on and on about how her mommy and 'Lady Limbo' were gonna save all of us."
Samba stared at her daughter in disbelief, the filly just looking back at her with her signature cute grin. "You really believed that I'd be able to rescue you, Pira?"
"Yeah!" Pirouette chirped. "'Cause you're a de—de-tect-tive," she sounded out slowly, then smiled proudly up at her mother after having pronounced it correctly.
Samba felt her heart swell at her daughter's confidence in her. Pirouette may have always looked up to her mother despite Samba's proclaimed shortcomings as a parent, but it still meant a lot to her to hear her daughter say that, and it added credence to Limbo's assertion that she was a better person than she gave herself credit for.
But her self-image wasn't important right now. She was surrounded by people that had been locked up in that room for upwards to three years, but the person responsible was nowhere to be found. It would be pertinent to gather some information while these people collected themselves.
"So, do any of you guys know who the Ghost is?" Samba asked the group.
Everycreature just shook their heads.
"Really? None of you ever caught a glimpse of them?" Samba recalled something that her stalker had said, and leaned down to Pirouette. "Pira, the person who took you said he 'dropped you off' here. So who brought you down to this room?"
"I dunno," the filly answered, looking rather ashamed of herself for not being able to answer the question.
"She was blindfolded when she was brought in here," Poe told her. "And I'm guessin' the Ghost never said nothin' to her neither."
"Well, the Ghost has access to shapeshifting, right? They could've just disguised their voice," Samba surmised.
"The other person didn't say anything to me," Pirouette confirmed. "I only remember one person's voice."
"It's worth mentionin' that Pira's the first victim that didn't get teleported into the room with us since the Ghost copied Blink's spell to that... What was that thing called again, Mandi?"
"The Spellmet, I think?" Mandible answered.
"Right, I knew it was somethin' stupid," Poe nodded. "So, yeah, that was a little odd."
Samba tapped her chin in thought. "Hmm... I wonder if that means that they didn't actually have the Spellmet with them tonight." Her eyes widened suddenly. "Wait, none of you happened to get a look at them when they brought Pira in, did you?"
"If we did, we'd've mentioned it already," Poe reiterated.
A middle-aged mare with glasses chimed in from the group. "Before they copied Blink's teleportation spell, they always wore a disguise when guiding us down here."
"But I thought they didn't get the shapeshifting spell until they kidnapped Pedipalp," Samba commented. "Wasn't that only around a month ago?"
"No, like, an actual disguise," a stallion corrected her. "Like a Nightmare Night costume they bought at the mall."
"Oh. Well, what about you, Mandi?" Samba asked the female changeling.
Mandible tilted her head in confusion. "Huh? What about me?"
"What happened to you when you got kidnapped? Anything could be helpful."
"Oh, uh..." She played the night's events in her head again. "Well, me and Leaf went out to a movie for our date, then we went out to dinner at a restaurant. I went to the bathroom for a minute, and then somepony bonked me over the head and turned off my lamps. And then I just woke up in here. That's all I remember."
"Okay. I just wanted to know because the guy who kidnapped Pira had your phone and hacked it apparently."
"Really? Weird."
"I guess it's possible that it was the Ghost who ambushed you, then maybe took your place for the rest of the date. But I suppose it could've been the same guy who kidnapped Pira, since he had a Spellmet too."
"Yeah, they made us all copy our spells into the new one recently," added Poe.
Poe narrowed her eyes suspiciously at her before answering quietly. "No."
That answer was interesting considering that the necromancy spell was presumably why Poe was kidnapped in the first place. If it turned out that it was because the Ghost wanted to threaten Limbo, Poe would probably be dead by now.
But these were questions for later. Samba looked around at all the disheveled and shaken people in the room. All things considered, they were being surprisingly patient given their circumstances. It would probably be for the best if they all got some fresh air for the first time in ages. "Alright, we should probably get out of here. You guys have families you want to get back to."
Not needing any further encouragement, the group of kidnapping victims made their way upstairs. Samba was about to follow them, but Poe reached out and stopped her.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?"
Samba looked toward the stairs, where Pirouette was standing, waiting for her. "You go on, Pira. Wait with Mandi, okay?"
Pirouette nodded and scurried off upstairs.
Samba turned back to Poe, the two of them all alone in the basement. "What do you need to talk about?"
Poe hesitated for a moment, glancing up the staircase until she was sure everycreature was out of earshot. "You and Limbo have been working this case together, yeah?"
Samba nodded. It appeared Pirouette had told her a lot already.
Poe gazed at her rather seriously, belying her nonchalant attitude up until now. "How much do you know about her exactly?"
Samba could already tell where this was going. She was talking to the only other person in the world privy to Limbo's secret. "I know she's a zombie, if that's what you're getting at."
The other mare narrowed her eyes almost threateningly. "And have you told anypony about it?"
"No, of course not."
Poe observed the look on Samba's face. After a few silent moments, her carefree smile returned. "Guess she must really trust you, huh?"
"Uh, well, to be fair, I kinda accidentally stumbled upon it. But I owe her my life, so the least I can do is keep my mouth shut about it."
"And help her with the case."
Samba blushed slightly, a sullen sigh escaping her lungs. "Honestly, I only insisted on that because I wanted to do something meaningful and prove that I wasn't just a useless waste of oxygen..."
Poe just grinned. "Looks like you did just that. Man, Limbo must be pretty stoked right about now." Having said that, Poe looked around. "Speakin' o' which, where is Limbo anyway? She's been on the Ghost's trail for three years and she ain't even here to see me when I'm rescued. She go chasing the Ghost or somethin' while you helped us out?"
Samba blinked. Now that she mentioned it, that was odd. "Well, she was just going up to the roof to put her head back on. I figured she'd be back by now."
Poe's expression once again shifted to seriousness. "I think we need to head upstairs and find her. I got a bad feeling."
The two unicorns hurried up to rejoin the group. Everycreature was waiting outside on the sidewalk, getting their bearings. Poe approached Mandible, while Samba searched around inside, using her phone as a flashlight.
"Hey, you see Limbo around at all?"
Mandible just shook her head. "Nope. It's kinda dark in there, but I probably would've noticed if she was here."
"Anypony else see anything?" Poe asked the others.
She just received a bunch of uncertain shrugs.
Samba stepped outside to join them. "I just checked the roof, and she's not up there either."
"Is she chasing the bad guy?" Pirouette speculated.
"Maybe, but I feel like I would've heard some commotion if that were the case, like some yelling, or hurried hoofsteps, or something, you know? What about you guys?"
Poe shook her head. "The Ghost cast Treble's soundproofing spell on that room we was in. Nopony'd be able to hear us, and we couldn't hear nothin' on the outside."
Samba sighed. She was starting to get pretty worried about Limbo now. Something could have happened. But the primary objective was the rescue of these poor people. Limbo would probably give her an earful if she ignored them in favor of searching for her. Their safety right now was paramount. With that in mind, she took out her spellphone once more. "I'm gonna call the police and have them come escort you all home."
Poe watched as she made the call, informing the operator of the situation and giving them their approximate location before hanging up.
"Okay, they should be here any minute," Samba told the group, to which she received a chorus of relieved sighs.
"Well, I ain't stickin' around," Poe asserted as she started making her way down the street.
Samba was surprised to see that and made to go after her and stop her. "Hey, where are you going?"
"To find Limbo, obviously."
"Shouldn't we wait for the police? They can help."
Poe looked her dead in the eyes. "Look, here's what's gonna happen when the cops get here: we ain't all gonna be brought home just like that. The Ghost ain't here, so they're gonna want to question all of us about them. And it's already... What time is it?"
Samba checked her phone. "Almost four a.m."
"Right, so that's pretty late. They might even try and keep us overnight. And the longer we're held up, the more likely somethin's gonna happen to Limbo. I ain't lettin' her go through all o' this effort to save us, only for us not to be able to see each other again."
"But you don't know where to even start looking."
"No, but she probably ain't at the cop station, so I ain't startin' there."
Samba observed the resolve in Poe's eyes. That was a look she was all too familiar with by now. And she wasn't about to let all of Limbo's effort go to waste by having Poe put herself in danger immediately. "Then I'm coming with you."
Poe cocked an eyebrow. "You sure?"
Samba nodded resolutely.
The black mare cracked a small grin. "I can see why she took you on. Alright, but we gotta book it before the cops show up."
"Just a sec." Samba rushed back over to the group, particularly to Pirouette. She leaned down to her daughter. "Pira, Mommy and Miss Ravensong have to go, so I want you to stay with Mandi and the others and go with the police when they get here, okay?"
Pirouette looked at her uncertainly. "Um, okay. Where are you going?"
"I... can't say. I'm not even sure myself, to be honest. But we have to go. The police will get that ring off of you and bring you back home to Daddy soon. I'll try and come back as soon as I can." With that, Samba gave her daughter a hug and went to rejoin Poe.
"Hey."
Samba looked at Poe, who was smiling at her.
"You seem like a pretty good mom."
Samba rubbed her neck with some doubt. "That's... up for debate..."
"So, you've been working this case with her for a bit, right? Any suggestions on where we should start?"
Samba considered it for a moment. "Not really. I know that this maybe goes against what you said before, but maybe we should stop by my place for a bit to formulate a plan. It's not too far from here. Closer than the police station anyway."
Poe breathed a reluctant sigh, but gave in to the suggestion. "Yeah, sure. You might have to catch me up on some stuff anyway."
***** ***** *****
Limbo's consciousness began to come back to her gradually, letting out a dizzied moan as her single eye cracked open. Her vision was still a little cloudy, and the bright light only made keeping her eye open more difficult until she managed to adjust to it. Eventually, though, she managed to collect her thoughts, her vision clearing up to allow her to get a handle on her surroundings.
She glanced around. She was surrounded by knickknacks, electronics, and various tools stashed away haphazardly on several shelves and workbenches. From her vantage point, she could identify a staircase to her right, though only barely since it was on the fringe of her blind spot.
The fact that she couldn't turn to see it better was another issue. She was clearly in somepony's basement, that much was evident. However, she was unable to explore her surroundings. It didn't take long to figure out that she was merely a severed head sitting on a table right now. As for where her body was, that was another story. She could still feel her body, and she could still move, it was just a matter of figuring out where it was. Thankfully, that wasn't too hard to determine. Her body was submerged in water, that much was certain. Her movements were sluggish, she was soaking wet, and her stomach and lungs were full of water.
There was little doubt as to what had transpired; the Ghost had ambushed her, taken her head back to their "lair," and dumped her body into Horseshoe Bay for old time's sake. That was the logical assumption.
Limbo moved her body around to see if she could feel her way back to shore, but found her efforts stymied by something tugging on her leg. Feeling around, it felt as though one of her hind legs had a rope wrapped around it, and the other end was tied to a rather large stone. Even with the buoyancy of the water, Limbo was unable to lift it, and the knot was too intricate for her to untie with her hooves alone. She blindly searched her surroundings with her hooves, hoping to find something with which to cut the rope; a sharp stone, a shard of glass, even the claw of a passing crab would suffice, but all she could find was sand and seaweed. It was unfortunate that she had played her cards at the Magi-Tech Expo; now the Ghost knew that she could move her body independently and had taken that into consideration.
The real question, though, was: Why was she still "alive"?
Before she could ponder that, the sound of a door opening at the top of the stairs caught her attention.
This was it. She was finally about to learn the identity of the Ghost, even if it wasn't the way she wanted it to happen, left decapitated and at their mercy.
Limbo listened as the hoofsteps descended the stairs, and eventually, a figure came clearly into view; the somewhat effeminate figure of a sky blue stallion possessing a white mane with a thin, red streak, and a smarmy smirk on his face.
Limbo's eye went wide, her pupil narrowing both in shock and aggravation. "Leaf?! Augh, I should've known! Only psychopaths drink iced coffee!"
Loose Leaf just stared bemusedly at her. "You're really willing to die on that hill, aren't you? Or, well, I mean—"
"Don't you start," Limbo grumbled. "I get enough of that crap from Samba."
"You're not exactly in much of a position to be getting snippy," he stated with a snide grin, tapping the table she was stuck upon.
Limbo just groaned quietly. He had a point. She was defenseless right now, but that only brought up her previous question. "So, why am I here anyway? You could've done away with me, but instead you brought me here? What gives?"
"If I'm being honest, I just felt like I owed you at least an explanation. We've known each other for a while now, and—if I'm being real—it's actually been kinda fun watching you run around trying to solve this case. I'd even go so far as to call it 'thrilling.'"
Limbo furrowed her brow at him. "So, what, this has all just been some big game to you? Toying with people's lives just to get some sick kicks?"
"Obviously not. I was already kidnapping people before we even met."
"Why, then?"
"You already figured that part out, didn't you?" Leaf walked over to one of the shelves outside of Limbo's peripheral vision, returning with the Spellmet that had gone missing at the expo. "It was all because of this thing."
"So you just wanted to expand your repertoire of spells? Didn't that thing cure your funnel horn, though? You can learn magic without it now, you know."
"Even so, my magic isn't exactly all that powerful—still a little below average if anything. I couldn't hope to learn the kind of spells I wanted without the help of the Spellmet—which, might I add, is just the dumbest name my brother could've possibly come up with."
"At least that's one thing we can agree on," Limbo muttered.
Despite his distaste for the name, Leaf held up the Spellmet, gazing at it with reverence. "The first time I put on the first prototype to test it out, I felt the magic flow through my body in a way that I can't accurately describe. It was a sensation I had never had the privilege of experiencing growing up. So, to feel it all flooding out at once like that was... exhilarating. Casting a spell well beyond my natural capabilities was... well, to put it simply: intoxicating. But even if it did cure my funnel horn, the amount of magic I could muster on my own was still meager compared to what could be accomplished with the Spellmet. So, I wanted more. I wanted to feel that sensation again, and have the ability to cast any spells I wanted. But, obviously my brother would become concerned if I told him my intentions, so I had to resort to petty theft. Easy enough considering I have free access to Mango Inc. headquarters, being the boss's little brother and all."
Limbo let out a groan. "Great. And here I thought I was chasing after a potential super villain looking to conquer Equestria. Instead, he turns out to just be an ether junkie. That doesn't sound nearly as impressive."
"It's not like the thought hasn't occurred to me, but conquering Equestria would be a daunting task. The Spellmet only has so much storage space, which is why I needed this upgrade. I'm hoping to be able to modify it to expand its storage capacity and override any security features to—"
"Yeah, yeah, more techie gobbledygook, I don't care," Limbo grumbled. "The 'how' is not exactly my concern, it's the 'why.'"
"And now you know. Sorry you didn't get to figure it out on your own, but desperate times, you know? I had two choices: I could go after Samba and stop her from freeing my victims, but then I'd run the risk of you getting the jump on me, and I know I couldn't take you in a head-to-head fight. To me, the better option was to ambush you, even it meant letting Samba undo my work."
"I'd've thought the Spellmet would have evened the odds for you a little."
"If I had it with me, sure," Leaf grumbled. "But I didn't. I wasn't sure exactly what that weirdo would've done if he knew there was a second Spellmet. He might not have trusted me. So I had to play it safe once he spilled the beans. Dragging your body down to the harbor was kind of a chore, though, but I was feeling nostalgic. And it wasn't like the first time I killed you. You got lucky back then, which is why I had to resort to murder."
"But this time you had nowhere left to hide," Limbo stated triumphantly. "You started getting sloppy and left behind too many clues in your desperation."
"I blame that moron, personally," Leaf sneered. "I specifically told him to kill Samba, but of course he couldn't muster up the courage to actually go through with it."
"Guess you weren't anticipating him knuckling under, huh?"
"Actually, I kinda was. Samba told me he frequents the bar she works at, but he didn't exactly seem reliable when I met him. So I rigged that old Spellmet to short out, just in case I needed to do away with him. I was listening in from my spellphone, but was a little slow on the trigger when he started blabbing. I also rigged Mandi's phone, just in case."
"A lot of good it did you in the end. Doesn't change the fact that you messed up."
Her assertion didn't do much to wipe the smirk off his face. "You're acting awfully cocky for a disembodied head." Leaf picked up a kitchen knife that had been laying on the table out of Limbo's view. "All it would take is to drive this through your skull and your snark will be silenced forever."
Limbo didn't flinch, giving him a steadfast glare. "Then go ahead and do it."
Leaf arched an eyebrow at her goading. "You think I won't? I've already killed you once. After our scrape at the expo, I've pretty much deduced that I've gotta hit the brain if I want to put you down for good. Am I wrong?"
"No, but you think I care whether or not you kill me again? At this point, I could go either way."
"And why's that?" he asked curiously.
Limbo grinned victoriously. "Because you've already lost. By now, Samba has probably already freed your victims and alerted the cops. My job is done, so you can do whatever the hay you want to me now, I don't care."
Leaf sighed in defeat. "Alright, fine. You got me. But that doesn't mean I'm just gonna roll over and accept it. I was actually in the process of making arrangements."
"What kind of arrangements?"
"I've got a contact in Vanhoover who's getting me set up. I'm hopping on an airship in just a few hours to head over there. Gonna start over using changeling shapeshifting to assume a new identity, then pick up where I left off."
Limbo growled at that news. After everything she'd been through, he was just going to up and leave and she'd be back at square one. Except she probably wasn't going to be leaving this house with her undeath intact. There had to be something she could do to stop this.
Leaf started back toward the stairs. "I'm gonna get a drink and take care of something. Back in a minute. You need anything? I could get you an iced coffee," he chuckled.
"Bite me."
Leaf paused for a moment, thinking something over. "Hey, on that note, I've been meaning to ask: if you bit somepony, would they become a zombie too?"
"Why don't you put your hoof right here and we'll find out?" Limbo threatened.
Leaf rolled his eyes. "No, thanks, I'm good."
With that, Leaf disappeared up the stairs. Once Limbo heard the door shut, she wasted no time devising a plan of action. Leaf might have known a lot more about her than she had thought, but there was one little thing she was pretty sure he was still unaware of.
"Hey, Webber. You still in there, buddy?" she said quietly.
After a moment, she felt the arachnid wriggle his way out of her eye and onto the table, looking back at her in anticipation.
Limbo smiled with relief. "Thank Celestia. I was worried that blow to the head might've done you in."
Webber lifted a leg to dispel her concern.
"Okay, so, you've been listening in, right? I need you to do me a huge favor. You gotta find a way to sneak out of here, find Samba, and lead her down to the harbor to find my body. Leaf didn't have the Spellmet with him when he dumped off my body, so it can't be too far from the wharf. After that, bring her here. I know we only have a few hours to pull this off, but it's the best shot we have."
Webber immediately scurried off, up the steps, and clung to the corner of the ceiling to wait until Leaf opened the door again.
After a few minutes, Limbo could hear Leaf returning. She assumed that Webber took his opportunity to slip out of the basement as Leaf came back down the stairs with an iced coffee in his magical grasp. He took a long, loud swig to deliberately annoy Limbo before placing the cup on the table next to her head, further disgruntling her.
"So, you just plan on hanging out down here until your flight?" Limbo grumbled.
"Figured you could use the company since you're kinda stuck here," Leaf responded with a friendly grin.
"Such an accommodating host..." Limbo mumbled sarcastically.
That being said, it would behoove Limbo to keep Leaf occupied for a bit while Webber sought a way out of the house—a vent, or an open window, or something. He seemed to be in a talkative mood, and it wasn't hard for her to come up with a few topics of conversation.
Leaf observed the intense look in Limbo's eye. "What's up? You look like you're thinking about something."
"Of course I am. Not exactly much else a severed head can do."
"So what's on your mind? I got time to kill."
"I've just been thinking about the order of operations here."
"Like all the places where it should now be obvious that I was the Ghost?"
Limbo groaned, hissing through her teeth. "Yeah, that. So, first question: you were the one who enlisted Wick Nimble, right?"
"Obviously. I actually know Wick. We worked at the same Mango store before he got fired, so I knew all about his money woes. Figured it'd be easy to manipulate him into helping me."
"And I assume you weren't necessarily using him as a scapegoat."
"If it had worked out that way, that would've been a bonus, but I didn't think you guys would be dumb enough to believe he was the Ghost."
"So you anticipated him giving us the info, and that in turn was meant to misdirect us about what species the Ghost was."
"Pretty much."
"Why, though? Even giving us that much info is bad for you."
"Because I knew kidnapping Sizzle Conifer was a risk. Nirik fire is too useful to pass up, but targeting a kirin was definitely going to raise some questions. I had to try and throw you off the scent."
"But the inhibitor ring pointed us in the right direction."
"Yeah, I hadn't anticipated that," Leaf admitted. "I figured you guys would just assume it was acquired off the black market. But it's not like that was a terribly big deal. After all, I don't work for Mango Inc., I just worked at one of their stores for a while. The help I gave my brother early on was voluntary on my part."
"And you quit that job to work at town hall, which I'm now realizing was all because you wanted access to the citizen records to figure out who in this city knew the spells you wanted."
"Right, but I was just an assistant there. I didn't exactly have the authority to freely look through those files."
Limbo turned her eye away as she realized something. "But then we gave some of those files directly to you, and then I gave you directions straight to my apartment."
"To be fair, you advertise your agency in the newspaper. It wouldn't have been hard for me to find your place on my own, but it gave me an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. Burning those files would only fuel your theory that the Ghost was a changeling while also dealing a blow to you personally. Samba mentioned how down in the dumps you were after losing your apartment and your leads."
"I wasn't that bad..." she muttered.
Leaf then grimaced. "But then she had to show up."
Limbo quirked an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Mandible," he sneered. "She was a major wrench in the plan."
"Ah, right, because she was the proof we needed to figure out that the Ghost wasn't a changeling after all."
"Exactly. Honestly, I wasn't expecting Samba to put that together so quickly, so I had to act fast. The records I burned weren't enough anymore, so I had to be a little more thorough."
Limbo gave him a puzzled look. "Wait, so you were the one who stole the files that night? But you showed us your security footage and—"
"Oh, please," he responded with a condescending smirk. "How hard do you think it is to change a timestamp on a video? You're just so tech illiterate that you didn't question it, and Samba's just a little too trusting."
Limbo looked away, suddenly feeling a little ashamed of herself for letting something so obvious slip past her. But she went right back to glaring judgmentally at Leaf. "So that also makes you Gust's murderer."
"Look, I didn't want to kill her," he argued defensively, his face showing genuine remorse. "I didn't have a choice. I had had the past couple of days off from work, so I had no idea she was working late that night. She must've been in the bathroom when I broke in. She came back to the office to find me rifling through the filing cabinets. I was disguised as a random pony at the time in case somepony saw me, but when she caught me, I panicked and changed back to show her it was just me. My hope was that she'd be willing to turn the other cheek and let me go, considering our, uh... 'relationship.' It seemed like she was going to go along with it too, but she'd seen me with the Spellmet, and I just couldn't take the risk. So, when she let her guard down, I..."
"Converted her into a breezie bookmark."
He scratched his head with a sigh. "Yeah... It's regrettable, I did like her—not in the same way she liked me, of course—but I was in yet another desperate situation that was most easily solved by taking a person's life."
"Any reason you didn't dispose of the body?"
Leaf shrugged. "Admittedly, I was taking a gamble on that. Like I said, I was kinda in a panic. My thought process was that, by leaving the body, maybe you guys wouldn't think it had anything to do with the Ghost, or you'd be too preoccupied with the murder to realize the files were missing. I guess I lost that gamble."
"Speaking of, why only take the Mango Inc. files? I feel like that only points us in the right direction. Wouldn't it have been easier to just destroy all the citizen records?"
"That goes back to what I just said. I was hoping you wouldn't notice they were missing. Taking all of them would've been too noticeable. Again, guess it didn't help me in the end, but that's what was going through my head."
"Guess your first heist went a little more smoothly, huh?" Limbo commented. "Though, why go through the trouble of stealing the Spellmet at the expo? Wouldn't it have been easier to just, you know... go to Mango Inc. H.Q. and walk out with it like the first one?"
"It's not as simple as that. At least not anymore," he answered quietly. "You know how rocky my relationship with my brother is. He used to ask me to come over and help with the Spellmet regularly when it first started development. Then he decided to run for mayor, the phone calls got less frequent, and next thing I know, I'm completely out of the loop."
"If you're looking for sympathy, you ain't getting it from me," Limbo deadpanned apathetically. "But this does appear to give you some motivation to frame him as the Ghost."
"I never intended to frame him, you guys just kinda took it in that direction. Not gonna lie, though, when I heard he'd been arrested, my first thought was, 'Serves him right.' Honestly, I feel a little bad for thinking like that. As upset with him as I was, he's still my brother."
"You really have a selective conscience, don't you?" Limbo quipped judgmentally.
Leaf narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't expect you to understand. You're an only child. You don't know what it's like to be the younger sibling, especially when your older brother is so much more successful than you."
"So go see a family therapist or something. It ain't my job to sit here and listen to you vent."
"You wanted to know why I had to plan the heist, right? Well, there you go. It was obvious that Mango wasn't interested in my input anymore." Leaf frowned slightly. "But that's also why it surprised me when he called me up out of the blue to join him at the Magi-Tech Expo. I thought it was his attempt to try and patch things up at first." He furrowed his brow in frustration. "But, apparently, he just wanted me to help with the setup."
"Hey, you got to help him present it, didn't you?"
"Oh, yeah, such an honor," he griped sarcastically. "Bring me up on stage only to not get any credit even though the thing was my idea in the first place. I definitely didn't feel bad about stealing it after that."
"So obviously that was you I tussled with in the bathroom, then. Gotta say, you didn't put up much of a fight. To be clear, I let you decapitate me for a laugh."
"What do you expect? You have police training and I was struggling with the similo duplexis spell."
"Is that spell really that complex?" asked Limbo curiously.
"Well, the version I had was different from the one that Princess Twilight used. You know that librarian I kidnapped?"
"Page Turner? Yeah, she was the one who knew that spell, right? But according to the princess, that version had some shortcomings."
"Right. In order to make the spell easy to manage, some of the copy's functions are removed. The copy I made couldn't speak or hear."
"Ah, so that's why you didn't engage in any witty banter with me."
"It was hard enough to control two bodies at once. I've tried practicing the spell at home, but it's tough to get used to. That's why I locked myself in that pitch black janitor's closet. Made focusing on what the copy saw much easier. Although, I still ended up inadvertently banging myself up on the shelves and stuff in that room. But that actually ended up working in my favor. All I had to do was hide the two Spellmets, slap on the inhibitor ring, and you guys just assumed that all the bumps and bruises were from the Ghost assaulting me." He flashed her a grin of mock appreciation. "It was nice of you all to show such sympathy that you let me go without even bothering to search my bags. You know, you rag on the cops a lot, but you've made your fair share of boneheaded moves too."
Limbo just groaned, again, mentally kicking herself.
"You should thank Mango, though," Leaf continued. "He's the one who's been keeping my victims alive."
Limbo quirked an eyebrow. "How's that?"
Leaf looked at her, puzzled by her confusion. "What? Why do you think I bothered volunteering at that soup kitchen? You think I care that much about the homeless?"
Limbo's eye widened when she made the realization. "Ooooh, that's what that building was. I thought it smelled like soup and desperation. Career mentioned that he was the one paying for the food there."
"The ironic thing is that Mango can't cook to save his own life," Leaf laughed. "But I bet they all got pretty tired of vegetable soup after a while."
"Yeah, laugh it up. At least they're free now. You better hope your flight is ready before the cops get here."
"Assuming they can figure it out in time. Plus, they gotta take care of the poor victims, question them, escort them home, etcetera. I think I have plenty of time," Leaf stated confidently.
At that moment, the ding dong of the doorbell could be heard. Limbo gave Leaf a smarmy smirk, but the stallion just shot back one of his own.
"Don't get your hopes up. I'm expecting a delivery. That would be my fake I.D. waiting for me."
"So, what, you just have a guy for everything?"
"I mod spellphones for people. The sort of people looking to have that kind of thing done don't exactly have scruples. So, yeah, I've made some connections. Just sit tight for a minute." He started toward the stairs, but paused to look back. "Oh, and don't bother shouting for help. I've already soundproofed the basement. Had to install a second doorbell ringer down here, though, since I figured I'd be spending the next few hours hanging with you."
With that, he disappeared up the steps once more. But, if anything, this delivery was a boon for her. If Webber was half as smart as she knew he was, no doubt he'd made a beeline for the door as soon as he heard the doorbell, and that was his ticket out. Now she just had to hope he could find Samba before it was too late.
***** ***** *****
There was definitely a bit of unease in Samba's apartment. It was her own suggestion to come back here to make preparations, but her mind was racing the whole time. She was terribly worried about Limbo. The Ghost had done something to her, but whether she was alive or dead—in the truest sense of the latter word—was up in the air.
But here she was, back at home in the dead of night making a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches for herself and her guest. Of course, she was equally concerned about Poe after what she and the other kidnapping victims had been through, and couldn't just let her run off by herself and possibly get herself killed trying to save Limbo. Currently, Poe was in the shower, bathing for the first time in nearly three years. Honestly, Samba couldn't figure out how those people survived in that room for so long considering how bad it must've smelled in there.
As the sandwiches were reaching that perfect hue of golden brown, Samba heard the shower shut off. A minute later, Poe stepped out of the bathroom, drying her short mane with a towel while the rest of her dripped all over the carpet.
"Man, I actually feel lighter without all the grime in my coat. Never figured showers were something I'd been takin' for granted all these years."
"I've got some makeup in there if you wanna use it. I noticed from some photos that you wear some," Samba offered.
Poe shook her head. "No thanks. 'Sides, I'm guessin' you don't have anything dark enough for my tastes." She sniffed the air, sighing blissfully. "It's a breath of fresh air to smell somethin' that ain't stress sweat or vegetable soup for once. Wuzzat, grilled cheese?"
"Yeah. I bet you probably would've liked something with a little more substance, but we're kinda pressed for time, and I'm not that great a cook."
Poe shrugged. "Nah, a grilled cheese sounds like the fanciest meal in the world to me right now. I'm so sick of vegetables by now that I've seriously considered becoming a carnivore."
Samba plated the two sandwiches, passing one off to Poe while sitting herself down at the table. Poe didn't bother to sit, just wandering around the apartment as she ate.
"You're not gonna sit down?" Samba questioned.
"I've been sitting down for, like, three years now. My butt is sore and I need to stretch my legs."
"Fair enough. But, uh, I have a question. Maybe it's a bit... invasive, but where did you guys... you know... 'do your business'? I didn't see a toilet or anything in that room."
"There was a bathroom through the back wall. Well, it was less of a bathroom and more of a hole in the floor that connected to the sewer system. Thankfully, the Ghost was courteous enough to install a door for that, both for privacy and the rank smell."
"Yeck, sounds unpleasant," Samba blanched. "Maybe not an appealing idea, but had you guys considered using that hole to escape?"
"Obviously, but it was too small, and the floor was concrete, so it wasn't like we could pry it open. Your kid probably coulda done it, but I wasn't gonna subject a sweet filly like her to somethin' like that when she'd been in there for less than a day."
"I appreciate that," Samba said with a grin. "And I appreciate you keeping her spirits up."
"You kiddin'? She was the one keepin' our spirits up," Poe chuckled. "Little ball of optimism, that one. You raised a good kid."
Samba shied away. "Well... My ex raised a good kid..."
Poe observed the shameful and dejected look on her face. "I dunno, sounded like she had a lotta respect for her mommy too."
Normally, Samba would turn away outside attempts at building her self-esteem. But, for Poe's sake, she managed a grateful smile. "Probably not as much respect as Limbo has for you, though."
Poe cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. After everything I've heard about you, I can tell you and Limbo are really close. She's been pouring her all into finding you and catching the Ghost." Samba's expression fell slightly, showing some concern. "So much so that she hasn't really been focusing on much else. She's been so dedicated to saving you that she doesn't really care about what happens to herself."
Poe was somewhat bothered by this information. "Uh-huh... She say that to you?"
Samba nodded. "She outright told me that once she saves you, she doesn't care what happens to her, like her life means nothing to her anymore so long as she can see that you're okay."
Poe let out a breath through her nostrils before shrugging it off. "Me and her need to have a long talk after all this, but we'll cross that bridge later. You ready to go?"
Samba took the last bite of her grilled cheese. "Sure. I just have to use the bathroom real quick," she said as she made for the toilet.
While she waited, Poe wandered around the apartment as she finished off her own sandwich. She happened to glance toward the window in the living room overlooking the street below. But it wasn't the view of the streetlight-illuminated roads that caught her attention.
"Yo, Samba, there's a big honkin' spider on your windowsill," Poe called out.
"What?!"
Poe could hear the toilet flush, followed by some clattering and hasty fumbling with the doorknob. Samba stumbled out of the bathroom in a hurry, nearly tripping over herself.
"Did you say a spider?!" she asked in near hysterics.
"Yeah. A big boy too." Poe grabbed a newspaper off of the coffee table and rolled it up. "Want I should squash it for ya?"
Samba rushed over to the window to confirm for herself. Just as Poe said, there was a large, brown spider sitting just outside her window as though waiting to be invited in. "Webber!" Without hesitation, Samba opened the window, extending her hoof for the spider to climb on. A huge, hopeful smile dimpled her cheeks. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you."
Poe just stared, a little bewildered by what she was seeing. "Huh. Never took you for the type to be into spiders. You came off as kinda dainty, no offense."
Samba glanced between Webber and Poe. "Oh, right, I guess you two haven't met, huh?" She held out her hoof to Poe so she could see eye to many eyes with Webber. "This is Webber. He's been Limbo's partner for a while, helping her with cases. She met him sometime after you were kidnapped."
Webber lifted a leg in greeting, no doubt already well familiar with the unicorn.
"That so? Well, nice to meet ya, Webber. Name's Poe," she greeted back.
Samba blinked. "Uh, you accepted that awfully quick. I know it took me a while to get used to having him around."
"I've seen my best friend talk to me as just a disembodied head. This ain't the weirdest thing I've ever seen, trust me."
"Fair enough."
"So, what's this mean exactly? How's this little guy gonna help us?" Poe questioned, receiving a look from Webber that could perhaps indicate indignation towards her doubtfulness.
"Webber was with Limbo when we went to save you guys—inside her skull to be precise. So if the Ghost took her somewhere, Webber might know where she is!"
Poe's dark face lit up hopefully. "You think?"
Samba let Webber down on the coffee table. "Webber, is Limbo okay? One tap for no, two for yes."
Webber tapped his leg twice.
"Awesome," said Poe. "So, you can take us to her, right?"
Another two taps.
"This is great!" Samba exclaimed excitedly. "This'll save us a ton of time! You're a literal life saver, Webber. Er, well, 'life saver' might not be the right term, but 'undeath saver' doesn't sound..." She paused, noticing the bemused grimace Poe was shooting her.
"She's told you off about that kinda thing before, hasn't she?"
Samba blushed, grinning awkwardly. "A couple times just tonight actually."
Poe shrugged. "Well, we got our navigator now. We shouldn't waste any more time. The Ghost might not have killed her again, but who knows how long it's gonna stay that way."
Samba nodded, but hesitated slightly. "Yeah, but, listen... I'm gonna make a suggestion, and I don't think you're gonna like it, but I think it might be a good idea to—"
Before she could finish her thought, a knock on the door interrupted them. Samba and Poe exchanged uncertain glances. It was nearly five in the morning, and there was only one person aside from Limbo that would have a reason to show up at this hour.
"I know you're in there, Samba, I can see the light under the door," came the voice of Night Owl.
Samba hesitated, taking a moment to observe the disgruntled look on Poe's face. Poe may not have liked it, but there was no getting out of this. So, Samba answered the door, welcomed by the slight reprimanding scowl on Owl's face.
Before he even said anything, he glanced over Samba's shoulder at Poe. "I figured you were here as well," he said as he entered the apartment. His expression softened, but only barely. "Good to see you're alright."
Poe did not react positively to his words, instead casting him a glower.
Owl sighed with a roll of his eyes. "I see you're as abrasive as ever."
"We don't have time for you right now, Owl," Poe told him bluntly.
"You're looking for Limbo, right?" he presumed.
"How'd you know?" asked Samba.
"Your kid said so. She said she didn't know where you were going, but mentioned that Limbo wasn't with you at the time. And considering Poe was gone too, I just put two and two together."
"And yet you came to slow us down anyway," Poe snipped. "I ain't letting you drag me down to the precinct. You'll have to knock me out first," she challenged, taking up a fighting stance.
"I just want to ask a few questions. Is that too much?" he shot back.
Poe narrowed her eyes defiantly.
Samba stepped in to mediate, holding a hoof out to Poe to diffuse her. After Poe backed down, Samba looked to Owl. "What do you want to ask?"
"First off, was Limbo with you tonight?"
Samba nodded. "She came with me to help rescue my daughter. But we think the Ghost might've gotten her."
"I see. So, if the Ghost is still out there, how do you explain the dead body we found in a nearby warehouse. And don't try and tell me it's unrelated. He was wearing a Spellmet and had Mandible's spellphone."
"W-We didn't kill him if that's what you're assuming," Samba told him defensively.
"I wasn't accusing you. A quick analysis revealed magical and electrical burns around his head, consistent with the shape of the Spellmet. I assume the thing malfunctioned and fried his brain. Guess Limbo was right to be wary of those things. There was also a bruise on his head, so I assume you two at least tried to fight him."
"Uh, well, that was an accident. But that guy wasn't the Ghost, obviously. That was my stalker that I told you about. He was the one who kidnapped my daughter, but we think he must've been working with the Ghost since Pira was with the other victims."
"Sounds logical. So now you two are throwing yourselves into the lion's den to save Limbo," Owl said in a judgmental tone.
"Got a problem with that?" Poe sneered again. "She's my best friend. Ain't no way I'm gonna just sit back and let you goons muck up her rescue."
"And how exactly do you plan to save her? Do you have a plan?"
Poe got up in his face. "You doubtin' me, 'Sarge'?"
Owl didn't flinch, but there was a hint of concern behind his stern expression. "I just don't want anypony else getting hurt unnecessarily. You've been through a lot already."
"Such a gentleman," Poe deadpanned sarcastically. "Now, you wanna get out the way and let us rescue Limbo? Cuz you ain't stoppin' me."
Samba once again pulled Poe back away from Owl before she started going for his jugular. She pulled her into the kitchen, whispering quietly to her. "Poe, listen, I think we should ask Owl to help us."
Poe was vexed by the suggestion, practically offended. "What?! Nuh-uh, no way, no how. The Ghost knows what Limbo is," she stated in a hushed tone. "Ain't no guarantee he won't find out when we get there."
"That's just the thing. Owl knows something is up with you and Limbo. He's had suspicions since you got kidnapped, he just doesn't know what exactly it is you did. And..." Samba hesitated, looking away ashamedly. "...I may have inadvertently made him more suspicious. So, at this point, it's only a matter of time before he figures out the truth. Besides, I know he has more respect for Limbo than you two might think. I think we can trust him."
Poe was silent for a moment, glancing reluctantly over Samba's shoulder at Owl.
"You want to see her again, right?" said Samba compassionately.
Poe just sighed, walking back over to Owl with firm hoofsteps and prodding him in the chest. "If you wanna come with, then fine. But I have a couple of conditions."
"I don't have to heed your orders, civilian," he hissed.
"First, it's just you," Poe insisted, ignoring his authority. "I don't want any other cops gettin' involved with this. It's bad enough that you're probably gonna learn the truth, so we don't need nopony else catching wind of it."
That piqued Owl's interest, his posture relaxing. "Alright. And your second condition?"
She narrowed her eyes fiercely at him. "You'll keep your pie hole shut about what you learn. You can do what you want with me afterward, but just leave Limbo alone."
Samba listened quietly, Poe's words sounding familiar to her. Those two really were as thick as thieves.
"We'll see," was all Owl said in response.
Poe grimaced at that response, but didn't want to argue any further and waste more time. "Good. Then let's get going."
"One more question for Samba real quick." Owl glanced at the coffee table. "You are aware that there's a big spider on your coffee table, right?"
Samba blinked, having completely forgotten that Webber was there. She glanced between the spider and the bat pony, trying to figure out how to handle this, but eventually sighed. If Owl was going to learn the truth about Limbo, then he may as well learn about Webber too, especially considering they were supposed to be following his lead. "Um, actually, I know this spider. His name's Webber, and he knows where Limbo is."
Owl just stared uncomprehendingly. "Excuse me?"
"Look, it's complicated," Samba told him. She held out her hoof, letting Webber climb up and placing him on her back, eliciting a surprised wince from Owl at how she had just casually allowed a spider to crawl on her body. "Just... trust me on this. He's gonna lead us to Limbo and the Ghost."
Owl wasn't sure how to react, so he turned to Poe.
Poe simply shrugged. "I only just met 'im too, but it ain't like we got any better leads to go off of."
The stallion just sighed with a shake of his head. "I knew you and Limbo were weird, but I didn't think it was contagious. Whatever. Let's just get moving. But before we go..." Owl reached into a pouch on the belt of his uniform, removing a small, key-like object with a red jewel in its handle. "Let's get that inhibitor ring off your horn. I figured you had one, so I brought this along with me. Your magic might be helpful."
Owl held the key up to the small, red jewel embedded in the ring, and both it and the key's began to glow. After a moment, the ring clicked, unclasping and falling to the floor. Owl then picked it up and put it and the key back into his belt.
Like stretching one's muscles after laying down for a long time, Poe flashed her magic, her horn glowing a bright red as she reacclimated to the feeling of magic flowing through her horn for the first time in ages. "Hm, thanks," she said halfheartedly, clearly not wanting to give him more credit than she felt he deserved, though unable to completely hide the relief in her crimson eyes. "Now let's stop wastin' time and get out there."
With that, Samba took up the lead as the three exited the apartment. "Alright, Webber. Point the way."
"I can't believe we're taking directions from a spider..." Owl muttered under his breath.
"Trust me, that probably ain't the weirdest thing you're gonna see tonight," Poe assured him.
***** ***** *****
Samba let out a long yawn as the three ponies made their way further downtown as per Webber's directions. It wasn't surprising that she was so tired; it was nearly five a.m. Even for her and her night job at the pub, she'd usually be in bed before three. She honestly felt a little pathetic walking alongside Poe and Night Owl. They didn't appear to be exhausted at all, despite how late it was. Owl made sense, since he was a bat pony and naturally nocturnal. In Poe's case, she hadn't really had a decent sense of the time being stuck in that basement for the past couple of years, so maybe she was already rested for the day.
On top of that, Samba was starting to feel the day's events taking their toll on her, running around looking for Pirouette. But she had to take the lead because their navigator was on her back. Still, she felt the need to voice her displeasure. "Do you guys mind if we stop for a minute. My legs are basically jelly at this point."
Poe arched an eyebrow at the complaint. "Your kid said you was a dancer. How are your legs tired from just walkin' around?"
"I only tend to dance for a few minutes at a time, and usually only twice a night. Admittedly, my passion for dancing has kinda dwindled since the divorce, so my stamina's a little lacking nowadays," she said with a weary sigh.
"Well, as grateful as I am for what you done, we ain't got time to rest," Poe told her with a little sympathy. "Yo, Webber, how much further we gotta go?"
Webber stuck a leg out, pointing the way forward.
Poe knit her brow, vexed. "Wuzzat mean? Close, not close? I don't speak spider."
Webber just continued to frantically point forward.
"I think he's trying to say we're almost there," Samba interpreted. She took a deep breath. "I guess I can stick it out for another few minutes, but you guys might have to deal with the Ghost on your own. I'll cheer from the sidelines."
Within a few minutes, the group had arrived at a familiar locale: the harbor. It became evident where they were going based purely on the smell of the salty seawater and dead fish. At the very least, the darkness of the night was fought off by the ever-present lights around the wharf, even if it was getting pretty close to sunrise by now.
Owl walked around the empty wharf, his eyes shifting from the warehouses, to the shipping containers, to the boats, before finally landing on Samba with a disgruntled grimace. "Please don't tell me your eight-legged friend lead us here simply because the rotten fish attracts flies."
"He must've brought us here for a reason," Samba assumed. "Maybe the Ghost is using this place as a temporary hideaway, like Wick Nimble."
"Possibly." Owl sighed reluctantly. "Alright, whatever, I guess we should look around."
Instead of following Owl's suggestion, Poe walked over to the edge of the wharf, looking out over the calm water. She narrowed her eyes as she stared into the harbor.
Samba noticed how intently she was gazing. "Poe? What's up?"
There was a moment of silence, but Poe didn't respond. Instead, she just leapt into the salt water without hesitation, catching Samba off guard and the loud splash grabbing Owl's attention.
"The hay is she doing?!" Owl asked.
"How should I know? You've known her longer than I have, right?"
The two of them could only watch as Poe swam out a short distance before eventually diving under the water with her horn aglow. After a few moments, she resurfaced, swam a little further out, then dove down again. She repeated this process several times, until, during one attempt, she stayed under considerably longer—long enough for Samba to start getting worried.
Thankfully, the red glow of Poe's magic under the water signaled that she was about to reemerge. However, she wasn't alone. There was a hoof draped over her shoulder as she swam back toward the wharf.
Owl's eyes widened as a horrific thought came to him. "Is that... a body?! Wait, don't tell me..."
Poe began to climb up the ladder on the side of the wharf, and Samba and Owl backed up to give her room. But when she got back up, she was alone once more, carrying nothing with her. However, she turned back, leaning down toward the ladder and pulling somepony up from behind her.
Owl staggered backward in shock and disbelief.
Climbing onto the wharf with Poe was another mare, but not any ordinary mare. She had no head. Where her head should have been was just her open esophagus and trachea and severed spinal column. The headless mare gained her footing on dry land, shaking the seawater from her coat like a wet dog.
A gleeful smile spread across Samba's face. "Limbo! You're okay!" she exclaimed in deep relief. She wasted no time giving the walking corpse a big hug, the force of which caused the water in Limbo's lungs and stomach to gush up and splash Samba in the face. The dancer's face suddenly turned green, and she scrambled over to the edge of the wharf to deposit her earlier grilled cheese sandwich into the harbor.
Poe walked up to Limbo's body with a soft smile. Obviously Limbo couldn't see her, so she needed another way to relay to her that she was there. Poe slowly traced her name against the damp fur of Limbo's coat. It took a moment, but once Limbo was able to decipher the message, she perked up, swinging her hooves around blindly until she eventually grabbed Poe and embraced her. Poe tenderly hugged her back, managing to fight back her tears—or perhaps they were simply disguised by the water soaking her coat.
"Good to see you again too, pal," she said softly, even if Limbo couldn't actually hear her.
Owl could only stand there, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. A body without a head standing before him, and Samba and Poe acting as though there was nothing unusual about this. If they hadn't said her name, Owl may have doubted the identity of this headless pony. But even then, there was no denying her forest green coat and familiar cutie mark.
And that's when it clicked.
"So... This is it, isn't it?"
Poe turned to Owl with an expectant glare, awaiting his response to this discovery, and Samba lifted her head from the edge of the wharf to do the same, though more worried about his reaction.
"This is what the three of you have been hiding from me. Necromancy," Owl presumed, some modicum of disbelief still sitting upon his face despite the clear evidence before him.
Poe took a challenging step toward him. "And what're you gonna do about it?"
Owl continued to stare, still unsure exactly how to react to this. He just ended up voicing the first thing that came to his mind. "So Limbo's... dead?"
Poe noted an unusual amount of concern and sympathy in Owl's voice. Of course, he and Limbo used to be colleagues, so this was probably pretty shocking news to learn all of a sudden. Still, she couldn't help but needle him a little. "Don't get all teary-eyed on us now."
He knit his brow at her. "Sorry if I don't take somepony's death as lightly as you."
Poe's lips curled into a barely restrained scowl, glaring daggers at Owl. "You think I took her death lightly?" She took a forceful step toward him. "You think I wasn't worried when she didn't come home that night? You think I wasn't devastated when I found her corpse floatin' in the water out here? You think it was easy for me to carry her carcass on my back all the way to my place in the middle of the night? You think I wasn't desperate when I stuffed her body in my freezer and dedicated the next two weeks to learnin' a forbidden spell to bring my best friend back to life?! You think that's takin' it lightly?!"
Owl was silent. The fire in Poe's eyes was more intense than he'd ever seen in her. She never struck him as the type to cry, but it was pretty evident that Limbo's death had hit her pretty hard. He offered an apologetic frown. "Sorry, I'm still just trying to process this. I'm sure it was rough for you."
Poe backed off, quietly accepting his apology and letting her temper cool down.
The stallion once more glanced at Limbo's body, which was just standing there casually. "So, how long has this been a thing?"
"A little over two years, just a couple of weeks before I was kidnapped."
"Which explains why the Ghost targeted you. I guess that all makes sense now." Owl sighed as he let that info sink in. "She's really been dead for that long? What happened?"
"Whaddaya think? The Ghost got her while she was investigatin'. Knocked her out and dumped her off in this very harbor. I had a hunch as to why Webber lead us here. Turned out I was right. Her body was tied to a big rock down there."
"What about her head?" asked Samba.
Poe shrugged. "Didn't see it down there, but I'm guessin' the Ghost's got it."
Owl ran a hoof through his mane with an exasperated breath. "I have a lot of questions about this..."
"What are you going to do now that you know about this?" Samba asked with worry.
"How am I supposed to know?!" Owl snapped, his confusion and frustration getting the better of him. "You think I can formulate a cohesive plan of action with the reanimated, headless corpse of my former colleague standing in front of me?!"
"Then we can probably focus on what's important and iron out those details later, yeah?" Poe suggested.
Limbo's body tapped her hoof on the ground impatiently. She obviously couldn't see or hear what was happening, so she was most certainly wondering what the hold up was.
"Oh, we should probably let Limbo know that Owl's here," said Samba.
Doing the same thing that Poe had done, Samba traced Owl's name against Limbo's coat. After a moment, her wet fur bristled and her muscles tensed up. In a panic, Limbo made to leap off the wharf to conceal herself in the water again, but came up about three feet short and bellyflopped on the concrete.
Samba helped her back up, noticing that she'd gone a little limp in defeat. "Sorry," Samba apologized despite Limbo being unable to hear her. "I just figured we could use his help." She turned to Owl. "And I know we can trust him."
Owl just grimaced slightly, still feeling confused and conflicted. But, as Poe said, it may be better to focus on the task at hoof and save the questions for later. Still, this did bring up one concern. "So, does this mean the Ghost now knows necromancy?" he asked Poe.
Poe shook her head. "Nah. Necromancy is runic magic. It ain't somethin' that can be replicated with just normal magic, and I burned the book I learned it from in case you guys ever got too suspicious. Fat lotta good it did me in the end though, I guess. But it wasn't like the Ghost could just let me go, so I had to stay holed up with the rest of 'em."
"Locked up in the basement of that soup kitchen... I'm surprised you were all still alive."
Samba blinked. "Soup kitchen?"
"Yeah, the building you found them in. What, you couldn't tell from all the food in there?"
Samba just stood there, staring blankly at nothing. Her brain suddenly kicked into overdrive, running a mile a minute. The Spellmet, the soup kitchen, the modded spellphones, Mandible... It was like a puzzle piecing itself together in her mind's eye, and the last pieces had finally fallen into place.
Owl shrugged. "Well, nevertheless, the Ghost has some dangerous spells at their disposal. If we're gonna apprehend them, we need to be on guard. I'd tell you two to let me handle this, but I doubt you'd listen."
"You know me pretty well, Sarge," Poe smirked.
"Then let's not waste anymore time. If the Ghost has Limbo's head like you think they do, then that probably means she knows their identity by now. We should find a way to get her to tell us who it is, or, failing that, just have the spider lead us there. Uh, it does know where Limbo is, right?"
Samba snapped from her thoughts when Owl asked her the question. "Huh? Oh, um..." She turned her gaze downward, feeling rather conflicted. She knew now what it was they had to do, and she wasn't entirely pleased about it. "Actually, I don't think that'll be necessary."
"How's that?"
Samba looked Owl in the eye, her expression exuding both assuredness and regret. "I'm pretty sure I know who the Ghost is."
***** ***** *****
Limbo could do nothing but sit on that table, idly waiting, her patience reaching its limit. It certainly didn't help that there was a clock on the wall somewhere in Leaf's basement, but the fact that she couldn't see it was particularly aggravating, especially considering that it was ticking incessantly. For a while, counting each tick and tock was, appropriately, all she had to do to pass the time, because at this point, there was no need to try and formulate a plan of action.
After exactly forty-six minutes and twenty-four seconds—give or take a few ticks and tocks—Leaf finally returned to the basement, carrying a duffle bag with him.
"Sorry that took so long. I know it's poor hospitality to leave your guest by themselves," he quipped.
"Don't put yourself out for my sake..." Limbo deadpanned. "Least you could've done is turn me around or something, though I suspect the reverse view is much like this one."
"Unless you think looking at my freezer is somehow more entertaining."
Limbo watched as Leaf began to look over the myriad bits and bobs laying around the cluttered basement. He began selectively placing various objects inside the duffle bag. The last thing he grabbed was the Spellmet.
"Packing for your trip?" Limbo presumed.
"Yep. Airship leaves in a little over an hour. Just seeing what I want to take with me to my new life." He twirled the Spellmet on his hoof. "This thing's a given."
"And you expect to be able to sneak that past security?"
"I'll be wearing it. The shapeshifting spell can hide clothes and accessories, so I'm not worried. So obviously I'm not getting aboard as Loose Leaf, but rather Circuit Hardwire, single, twenty-four years old, born in Las Pegasus, spent the past two years in Baltimare as a freelance engineer before deciding to try and settle down in Vanhoover, maybe find a nice mare, start a lovely, wholesome family..."
"'Circuit Hardwire' sounds like a real putz if you ask me. But then again, I know the 'real' Circuit Hardwire."
"And I don't care what you think, so stuff it."
Limbo didn't really have a retort for that, but she felt like she needed to keep talking. Right now, she needed to stall him. If Leaf decided he wanted to leave early, it could be game over. She already knew backup was on the way. Samba had found her body and they were currently making their way down the street. Her hoof was placed upon somepony's back in order to guide her, but she couldn't tell whose. She was also rather ecstatic to finally know that Poe was alive and well, so that was a major load off her mind. Though she was a little disgruntled to know that Owl was with them as well, and he now knew their secret, but it appeared as though he was willing to help her out for the time being. And, honestly, it just felt good to not have her guts stuffed with saltwater. If felt weird to be able to talk without gargling up all that water. She'd felt like she needed to cough or burp it up the whole time she had been talking to Leaf, but obviously couldn't. But now that she didn't have to worry about any of that anymore, she could concentrate on keeping Leaf occupied until they arrived, however long that might take.
"So... I guess my time is soon up, huh?" Limbo surmised, trying to sound dismal and hopeless to fool Leaf.
Leaf quirked an eyebrow. "Hm? Oh, right, I guess I have to do away with the evidence, don't I?" He walked over to her, picking up the knife that was on the table and looking it over with a conflicted expression. "I want you to know that I never wanted to kill you—or anycreature for that matter—and I don't want to have to kill you again."
"Yeah? Well, honestly, I was a little surprised you didn't keep my body around to have fun cutting me up or something."
Leaf grimaced at her, insulted. "Hey, I'm not some bloodthirsty maniac who kills and tortures for fun. I fed my victims legitimately good, healthy food because I don't want to needlessly kill somecreature."
"But I'm not one of those 'needless' kills, am I?"
He shrugged regretfully. "Unfortunately. I guess I could've just chucked your head in the harbor with your body instead of revealing myself to you, but I was feeling sentimental. Actually, I was briefly considering keeping you alive and bringing your head with me to Vanhoover. You know, to keep me company and maintain something from my old life."
"You know full well I'd just scream all night to prevent you from sleeping and sing the most annoying songs I can think of when you're awake. And I'm totally tone deaf."
"Well, there's that, and getting a severed head past security would be much more difficult than the Spellmet, I'd reckon."
"So, I suppose that means it's back to the grave for me, then?"
"Yup. I don't really have much choice in the matter."
Limbo would shrug acceptingly if she were attached to her shoulders. "Well, that's fine, I guess. My job is done anyway."
"So you keep assuming."
"Hey, you're the one who said you weren't going to needlessly kill anycreature, so I'm pretty confident your victims are alive, and Samba's definitely freed them by now." She cast a menacing smirk at him. "And if you think you'll be safe in Vanhoover, you're a fool."
Leaf tilted his head, puzzled by her assertion. "How do you figure that?"
"Because I know Poe. She went so far as to learn an illegal spell to bring me back to life, even though I was a member of law enforcement myself. If you kill me again, I know she'll hunt you down. It might take some time, but I'm giving you fair warning, she's just as stubborn as me, if not more so. So maybe sleep with one eye open."
Leaf just challenged her smirk with a haughty one of his own. "Oh? And what makes you think she's still alive?"
Limbo knew for a fact she was, but she wasn't about to reveal her cards just yet. "Didn't we just talk about this?"
Leaf held up the Spellmet. "Well, it might interest you to know that I couldn't copy the necromancy spell to the Spellmet."
"Yeah, no doi. It's runic magic. Once Career unveiled that gizmo, I had a feeling that was the case. I figured that's why you kidnapped her, but info on magic like that isn't exactly common knowledge, so I didn't expect you to know that."
"I tried to force her to show me how to draw the runes, but she said she couldn't remember after casting the spell only once, and she apparently burned the book she learned it from. Where'd she get a book like that anyway?"
"Some occult thrift store in Manehattan. Paid a pretty penny for it too. We didn't know the spells in that book were legit though, but that's just how desperate she was to bring me back. She was willing to try anything, but figured it might be for the best to get rid of it so stuff like that didn't fall into the wrong hooves. A.K.A., yours."
"Well, the point I was trying to make was that since I couldn't learn the spell, there wasn't really a reason for me to keep her around. I needed everycreature else alive in case I needed to upgrade to a new Spellmet. But Poe was useless to me. She'd just be another mouth to feed, and her connection to you just made her a bit of a liability."
"So, you're saying she's dead, then?"
"That would be the logical assumption, yes."
"Uh-huh."
Leaf quirked an eyebrow at her nonchalant response. "You don't seem too bothered by that news. I thought she meant the world to you."
"She does, absolutely. Which is also why I'm not too concerned about dying again because I know she'll avenge me."
"You really don't believe me?" Leaf goaded with a grin. "And what exactly makes you so confident that she's still alive?"
Before Limbo could answer, the sound of the doorbell rang out in the basement. Leaf suddenly looked stunned, falling silent.
Limbo just smirked triumphantly. "Expecting another package?"
Leaf didn't respond. He just stared at her, bewildered. "You... You're bluffing."
"How exactly am I bluffing? Somepony had to ring your doorbell. How could I do that when my body is in the harbor?" she mocked condescendingly. "And that look on your face betrays the lie you've been trying to tell me. Poe's alive, loser. Not only is she alive, she's here."
Leaf glared at her, clearly panicked. "And how do you know that for certain?"
Limbo just rolled her eye. "Need proof? Ding dong ding dong."
The doorbell then immediately rung twice in quick succession, mimicking Limbo's impression of the sound. Leaf looked as though he were about to faint.
"So go ahead and kill me. It's already game over for you, punk," Limbo proclaimed.
Leaf scowled at her, gritting his teeth. He was cornered, and he knew it. But he wasn't about to roll over and accept defeat. The cornered rat was ready to bite the cat.
Meanwhile, outside Leaf's house, Samba, Poe, and Owl were giving Limbo's body quizzical looks after she'd just randomly pressed the doorbell a couple of times.
"What's she doing?" asked Owl.
"No idea, but it could mean I was right." Samba stared at the door, feeling conflicted once more. "As much as I hate to say it, Leaf is the Ghost. Everything seems to point to him."
"In any case, he's not answering." Owl tried to peer through the window on the door, but the drapes were shut. "I doubt he's out at this hour, so either he's a real heavy sleeper, or he suspects who's at the door." He jiggled the door handle, but found it to be locked, unsurprisingly.
"Well, I ain't standin' around waitin' for 'im." Poe stepped down from the porch, grabbed a decently sized rock from off the ground, and aimed it at the door's window.
Owl glared at her sternly. "The hay are you doing?! That's breaking and entering!"
Poe just met his glare with one of her own, not breaking eye contact as she chucked the rock through the window with a loud crash.
Owl rolled his eyes. "How brazen do you need to be? We don't even know if he actually is the Ghost yet."
"You think I care about doing things 'by the book'? My best friend is in there. 'Sides, I've done worse than breaking and entering by this point, right?"
Owl grumbled under his breath. The deed was done now, so he just begrudgingly let Poe reach through the broken window and open the door. Owl took the lead, cautiously entering Leaf's house and keeping his guard up. It didn't appear as though anypony was on the first floor.
"You know him better than me, Samba. Any ideas?" asked Owl.
Samba carefully walked in, staying behind Owl and Poe. "Well, he probably already knows we're here. He's got cameras set up in every room. He could be upstairs watching the feeds."
"That the only place he could be?"
Samba glanced across the living room to a door near the hall to the kitchen. "I think he has a basement. I'm guessing it's that door there."
Seeing as it was right there, Owl choose to investigate the supposed basement first. He approached the door, slowly opening it. All he could see was the staircase leading down; definitely the basement. He turned back to Samba and Poe, gesturing for them to stay put. He then carefully made his way downstairs, keeping an eye out for Leaf.
"Owl! Your six!"
Owl barely had a chance to register Limbo's voice, but instinctively heeded her warning just it time, flapping his leathery wings to take to the air as a large yak barreled through the staircase from behind, shattering and splintering the wood. Without much room to fly in the basement, Owl opted to land, keeping his eye on the yak, whom he assumed was Leaf under the effects of the changeling shapeshifting spell.
The disguised Leaf snarled viscously and desperately at Owl, scraping his hoof on the floor before charging at the cop again.
With another quick flap of his wings, Owl effortlessly leapt over the rampaging yak, landing next to the table where Limbo's head was sitting. Leaf smashed into the far wall, destroying the shelves and most of his belongings upon them. Leaf shook the impact off, once more glaring at Owl.
"Loose Leaf, you're under arrest under multiple charges," Owl stated authoritatively in an attempt to get him to calm down and leave quietly. "Larceny, arson, several counts of kidnapping, three counts of murder, and now assaulting an officer."
"Don't forget illegal modification of spellphones," Limbo added.
Owl stared at her for a moment, just coming to grips with the fact that she was a talking head.
Limbo's eye shifted awkwardly. "So, uh... We've got a lot to talk about."
"I think that can wait for now."
Leaf stomped a hoof furiously. "I'm not gonna let all my work fall apart!" he bellowed in the yak's lower, booming voice. "I don't want to have to do this, but if I have to kill all of you to get out of this, then that's the way it's gonna be!"
Leaf began another charge toward Owl, but as he got halfway across the basement, Poe leapt from the top of the broken staircase and landed on his back. Leaf started to thrash wildly in an attempt to throw her off, but she clung tightly to his long, coarse yak hair.
After tackling the wall a few times proved unfruitful, Leaf opted for a different tactic. In a flash of green light, he transformed back to his normal body, then used the Spellmet to teleport away, causing Poe to drop to the floor.
Leaf reappeared on the other side of the basement. He could just teleport out of the house and escape, but he'd end up spending the rest of his life being hunted by the police, assuming he could manage to get out of the city before Owl called for backup. Not only that, but his spellphone and fake credentials were upstairs. If the cops got hold of those, even his contacts would be outed. His best plan of action was simply to kill the witnesses and proceed with his plan as normal, though that was easier said than done.
"Remove the device and come quietly, Leaf," Owl ordered.
"You're wastin' your breath," said Poe. "We oughta just knock 'im senseless."
"A desperate criminal is dangerous, Poe. We can't take him lightly, especially when he has the Spellmet."
"He ain't the only one with magic."
Poe wasted little time firing off a quick burst of red magic from her horn; not particularly powerful, but enough to warrant Leaf ducking out of the way to avoid a faceful of magic. Both Owl and Poe used the opportunity as Leaf staggered to rush him down, but he quickly teleported again, reappearing next to Limbo. He glanced quickly to the table, grabbing the knife he'd left there with his golden magic and brandishing it against his two attackers. The Spellmet was mostly filled with various utility spells, unsuited for combat, so a secondary weapon was preferable, especially in close quarters like this.
"Poe, stay back," Owl instructed.
"You ain't my dad."
"Just shut up and listen to me for once."
Owl cautiously approached Leaf, the other stallion pointing the tip of the knife at him threateningly.
"If you think I won't use this, you're sorely mistaken," Leaf warned adamantly.
Without warning, Poe loosed another shot of magic. Leaf ducked in time to dodge it, but, as before, Owl capitalized by rushing forward to attack. However, Leaf managed to recover in time and haphazardly swung the knife as the bat pony got close. Owl stopped, raising a hoof to shield his face, but that resulted in him receiving a large gash in his fetlock, a spray of blood splashing onto the floor. He staggered backward with a painful hiss through his teeth, gripping his bleeding fetlock.
"You okay?" Poe asked rather nonchalantly.
"You mind running your little gambles by me next time?" he growled in response.
"Like we got time for that. Ain't you cops supposed to be good at 'on-the-fly' reactions?"
"You wanna shut your cake hole for a few minutes?"
Poe rolled her eyes as she stepped forward. "Just sit there and lick your wound, Sarge. I'll handle this."
"You're gonna get yourself killed."
She ignored him as she usually did and stared down Leaf.
Leaf narrowed his eyes at her. "You think I won't hurt a lady?"
"I would not describe her as a lady," Owl quipped.
"Go stuff a duck," Poe snipped back.
"Point proven."
With a somewhat aggravated sigh, Poe chose to continue ignoring Owl and focus on Leaf. Poe feinted towards Leaf by taking a single step to keep him on edge.
"Leaf! Behind you!"
"Huh?" Leaf glanced back at Limbo with a puzzled look.
Poe used the opportunity to grab his knife with her own magic, managing to overpower his magic in his moment of distraction and brandishing it against him.
Leaf shot a scowl at Limbo when she started laughing.
"Holy crap, I can't believe you fell for that," she chortled amusedly. "And to think, I almost called you my nemesis. What a schmuk!"
Leaf said nothing to her, not wanting to dignify her childish joke—though more so not wanting to acknowledge that she got him with it. He turned his attention back to Poe, glaring threateningly. "Whatever. It's not like that was my only weapon."
His horn started to glow, and the Spellmet did likewise. However, the aura around his horn was not golden and shimmering like his normal magic, but a mixture of red and blue, flickering like flames. A white glow filled his eyes as he prepared to unleash the fury of nirik fire upon Poe.
"Let's see if you can bring yourself back to life," he growled.
"Leaf! Head's up!"
Leaf rolled his eyes—though obscured by the white glow of the spell. "How dumb do you think I am? I'm not falling for that a second ti—"
He suddenly felt something land in his mane. Then, a set of long, spindly legs crawled into his vision.
"Gyah!"
Leaf swatted the spider off his face in a panic. Webber hit the ground, uninjured, righted himself, and stared down Leaf, raising his front legs aggressively.
"What the hay?! How long has that thing been in my house?!"
"Get 'im, Webber!" Limbo instructed.
Webber feinted toward Leaf, the stallion reacting with a frightened wince as he took a step back. "It has a name?!"
"Dang right he does. And one chomp from him and you'll be totally paralyzed," she bluffed.
"Who trains attack spiders?! You're a loon!"
Webber continued to antagonize him, but Leaf flared the fiery aura of his horn once more.
"Guess this is one of those 'kill it with fire' moments."
But before he could attempt to incinerate Webber, Poe blindsided him with a punch while his attention was diverted, then grabbed him while he was reeling and forcibly removed the Spellmet from his head.
"Samba, catch!"
Poe chucked the Spellmet up to Samba, who was still standing at the top of the broken staircase, nervously watching the altercation unfold alongside Limbo's body. Samba caught the Spellmet, holding onto it tightly in case Leaf tried to wrench it from her with his magic. With his job done, Webber scurried off underneath a shelf to avoid getting stepped on during the kerfuffle.
Even without a proper weapon, Leaf's desperation wouldn't let him give up. He returned Poe's punch with one of his own, then wrestled the knife back from her and shoved her to the ground.
With this whole situation having gotten so out of hoof, Leaf was reaching the end of his rope. He had already killed three people, and he didn't want to kill any more, but there was really no other way out of this situation that didn't result in him going to jail. He had gotten a taste of what power felt like, and he wasn't about to let that slip from his grasp after going through so much trouble and ruining other people's lives.
So, with the final obstacles in his path before him, he lifted the knife, ready to bring it down on Poe. However, she was a tenacious and fearless mare, and tried to kick him in the chest. Leaf sidestepped the kick and retaliated by stabbing her leg through the calf.
"Poe!" Limbo cried out in concern.
Limbo willed her body to move to help Poe, but after just one step, stumbled down the broken staircase and landed amongst the wooden debris at the bottom, impaled on multiple nails and left struggling just to stand up with all the splintered planks of wood now stuck to her.
Leaf ignored Limbo's fruitless flailing and removed the knife from Poe's leg, letting the wound bleed openly as he glared at the injured mare with manic eyes.
Poe pulled away from him, clenching her teeth in pain, but not letting her ferocious glower soften. "I'm fine..." she hissed, clearly not fine as she was unable to stand up and fighting back tears.
Samba could only watch helplessly as both Poe and Owl were left injured and bleeding as Leaf prepared to end their lives. She shouldn't even be there right now. She couldn't do anything to help. She should have just left to get help after they found Limbo's body and let Owl handle it. But now it was too late. They were now on death's door, and the reaper was standing in front of them. Any attempts to fight back in their current state would likely just result in a quicker death.
And she could do nothing to stop it. Just like she'd always told herself, she was useless. Even Limbo, who was currently a headless corpse, was at least trying to help. But when people really needed her, she could only stand there in an emotional tizzy. What could she even do? She couldn't fight, she no longer had time to call for help, she couldn't even use magic...
With that final thought, Samba looked down to the device held in her hooves.
Leaf approached Poe and Owl, the latter standing up to guard the former, even though his own leg was bleeding pretty profusely. Leaf just stared him down, his desperate need to survive and escape fueling his adrenaline. No fear or panic remained in his mind. He was going to kill these people, and he wasn't going to feel bad about it.
"Stop!"
Leaf turned to see Samba hop down from the first floor, avoiding the debris and Limbo's incapacitated body. She staggered slightly from the large drop, but kept her balance. With the Spellmet on her own head, she confronted Leaf, mustering up as much courage as she could, though the fear and apprehension were still visible from her shakiness.
A slight look of remorse came over Leaf. "Please don't get in the way, Samba. I really don't want to have to kill you too."
"I'm..." Samba swallowed her pensiveness. "I'm not gonna let you hurt anypony else."
She didn't know what she was doing. She barely knew how to use what little magic she had naturally, let alone the more complex spells recorded in the Spellmet. All she knew is that she couldn't let Leaf get away with his crimes, and she couldn't let him hurt her friends. She just had to do something.
Her horn and the Spellmet began to glow the same fiery red and blue that Leaf's had a few minutes ago, her eyes glowing white hot as well.
Leaf suddenly felt a heat surrounding him. He looked down to find a ring of flames encircling him. He and Samba just stared at one another, a pleading look in Leaf's eyes as he realized that she was actually going to do it.
Samba clenched her eyes shut, the aura burning around her horn flaring up. At the same time, the flames surrounding Leaf erupted, engulfing him, the basement filled with the sound of crackling fire and agonized screams.
Leaf began to flail and stagger around the room in a panic, knocking things over in a desperate bid to snuff out the flames. But as long as Samba kept applying the magic, the fire continued to burn. The knife flew out of his grip and just so happened to embed itself into Limbo's good eye.
"Eeyow-uh!"
Owl didn't like what was happening. Leaf was likely to catch the whole house on fire if he kept this up, but for some reason, the fire continued to rage. He looked to Samba. Her horn burned brightly, flickering intensely with red and blue light. Her face was contorted in pain. He leapt into action, pulling the Spellmet off her head, throwing it to the ground, and stepping on it, breaking the device beyond repair.
Samba immediately loosened up, falling back on her haunches and panting as the light left her horn. With the magic dissipated, the flames burning Leaf quickly vanished, as well as the ones he'd started in his panic. Leaf suddenly collapsed to the floor, his fur and skin charred nearly black, his thick mane and tail no longer present. And he just lay there, motionless, leaving the basement smelling a little like burnt hair.
"Limbo! You good?!" Poe called to her friend in worry.
Limbo groaned in pain, the knife still lodged in her eye. "Ugh, yeah... Didn't reach my brain, but I'm a little blind here. You guys okay?"
Poe struggled to stand, keeping the weight off her right hind leg. "Could be worse," she moaned.
Webber crawled out from his hiding place, still cautious in case there were lingering flames, and climbed up on the table alongside Limbo's head.
Owl helped an exhausted Samba back to her hooves. "You alright?"
Samba took a deep breath, shaking slightly. "Y-Yeah, I think so. That felt... weird. I've never used magic like that before. I-I didn't know how to stop it. Thank you, Owl."
"Don't mention it. I should be thanking you. We were in a tough spot there."
Samba didn't say anything else. She was just glad it was over. It was a little disturbing to see Leaf's burned body just laying there, though. However, she did recall hearing a shout from Limbo, looking to her to find her head with Leaf's knife stuck in her eyeball. "Um, is she okay?"
"She's fine," Poe said dismissively. She pulled the knife out, but Limbo's eye popped out with it, skewered like a kebab. Poe grimaced with a sharp inhale. "Uh, well..."
"We... We can fix that, right?" asked Owl.
"Fix what? What happened?" Limbo inquired with a touch of worry.
Poe plucked the eyeball off the tip of the knife and tossed the knife aside. The necromancy spell repaired the gash, allowing Limbo see again, and the first thing within her range of vision was Poe's smiling face.
"Man, Poe, you're a sight for sore eyes," Limbo said with a relieved grin, able to finally enjoy the feeling of having her best friend back now that things had calmed down.
"'Sore' sounds like an understatement in your condition," Owl commented.
"You ain't kidding. Okay, pop me back in. I need to blink."
Poe jammed the eyeball back into its socket, and after a moment and the squelching sound of sinew fusing itself back together, Limbo blinked rapidly, rolling her eye around to make sure she was all fixed up.
"That's better. Now, can you give me a hoof over there while we're at it?"
They all turned to Limbo's body, still struggling to stand with all the boards nailed into her skin.
Samba, Owl, and Poe all pitched in to help her out, removing boards and plucking out loose nails and tossing aside all the debris.
While they were doing that, Limbo spotted Webber skittering around her head frantically. From the corner of her eye she spotted something else moving, and her eye widened in panic. Leaf's scorched form had somehow gotten back up, having grabbed the knife off the floor and now staggering toward her with an almost psychotic grin. Either his adrenaline had peaked, or the burns he'd received had killed his nerves and numbed him to the pain. But either way, he powered through, clearly having thrown away all semblance of sanity and unable to accept defeat without taking at least one of them with him.
"Problem!" Limbo cried out.
The other three ponies turned in time to see Leaf raise the knife, ready to drive it through Limbo's skull and finish what he'd started all that time ago. With their legs injured, Owl and Poe couldn't sprint to her aid.
Whether it was the remnants of her desire to save her friends, or just a reflex at this point, Samba instinctively jumped into action without thinking.
Samba tackled Leaf to the ground before he could strike, the two rolling across the floor. Mustering up all the strength he had left in his body, Leaf managed to overpower her, pinning her down. Samba saw the glint of the knife and the look of sheer mania and desperation in Leaf's eyes before the blade plunged into her chest.
"Samba!"
Limbo's cry of shock and horror was drowned out by Samba's shriek of pain and agony.
Owl fought through the pain inflicted by his wound to grab Leaf and pull him off of Samba, pinning him to the ground. He heard Leaf's labored breaths as he struggled weakly beneath him, but eventually Leaf went limp, his injuries finally taking their toll as his breathing stopped.
Mostly free from the planks and nails, Limbo's body rushed over to grab her head, reattaching it and scrambling to Samba's side in a panic. The knife was still in her chest, and removing it would only cause her to bleed out faster. If Limbo had to hazard a guess based on the exact location of the wound, it must've been near her heart—a punctured lung for sure. She was alive, but only barely, whimpering in pain, and coughing up blood. Obviously it was pointless to ask if she was okay, but Limbo didn't know what else to say. Only one thing managed to come to mind.
"Why?" Limbo asked, her voice barely above a whisper. If she could cry, no doubt tears would be running down her cheeks at this moment. "Why would you do that? I'm just a corpse. You didn't need to sacrifice yourself for me. You still have a life left to lose. I don't."
Samba stared up at her. Through the unrelenting pain in her chest—the worst pain she'd ever experienced—somehow, Samba managed to smile, even with a mouthful of her own blood. "You still don't get it, do you?" she wheezed.
"Get what?"
"Life is not about whether you can breathe, or if your heart beats. Your life is the choices you make, the things you do. If you can feel, if you can make a difference, then you're alive."
Limbo said nothing. She could only stare as her dying friend lectured her.
"Don't throw away the gift Poe gave you just because you accomplished one goal. The people of this city need somepony like you around to protect them. You're a tough nut, Limbo, but you've still got a heart, even if it is a little rotten," Samba giggled, though the laughter turned to aggressive coughs quickly. Her smile then fell, and she broke eye contact. "You've done a lot to help people throughout your life, and you can do so much more. I've done basically nothing... I made life harder for my ex-husband, I let my daughter get kidnapped... You might be a zombie, but your life—or whatever you want to call it—is still worth more than mine." Her weak smile returned as she looked into Limbo's devastated, silver eye. "I'm just glad I could do one meaningful thing with my life by saving yours."
"But you... You can't... I..."
Limbo wanted to argue with her, but couldn't find the words. She was too panicked and overwhelmed by the situation to think straight.
Samba went quiet, her eyes seeming to glaze over, unfocused.
"Samba? Samba!" Limbo placed a hoof against the side of her head, forcing her to look into her eye.
Samba blinked as though snapped from a trance. "Huh? Oh, sorry. I was trying to think of a cheesy one-liner to go out on. But it's kinda hard to concentrate with a knife in my chest," she said with a wheezy chuckle.
"You're making jokes at a time like this?!" Limbo chastised. "Look, just stop talking, we'll call the hospital and—"
But as she was in the middle of saying that, a slow breath escaped from Samba's wounded lungs, and her eyes drifted shut.
The basement was silent. Poe, Owl, and Webber could only watch as Limbo sat there, quietly holding her now dead friend. There was a surprisingly peaceful look on Samba's face despite her mortal wound, as though she were only sleeping.
Poe had only known Samba for a couple of hours, but she saw the way her best friend was mourning her death. Poe never considered herself somepony who let her emotions get the better of her, but she found herself empathizing with Limbo's feelings. She imagined there may have been a similar look on her own face after she had dragged Limbo's corpse home on that fateful night. And given how important Samba appeared to be to Limbo—not to mention the fact that Samba had saved her and Leaf's other victims—she felt like a debt was owed to her.
Owl would be the one to break the silence with a somber tone. As disheartening as the scene was, he still had a job to do. Mourning could come later. "I'll... call for backup."
He took out his spellphone, preparing to contact his colleagues. However, Poe held out her hoof to stop him. He observed the steadfast look in her eyes.
"I'm gonna need you to hold off on that a bit longer."
Samba lay still, her thoughts foggy and unfocused. She felt like she usually did the morning after a particularly exhausting night at the pub; the sort of morning where one simply didn't want to get out of bed and just hide themselves under the sheets like a hermit crab nestled snugly in its shell. The morning rays of the sun didn't help either, piercing through the window like a high-power searchlight.
But there was no escaping the call of a new day. She was awake now, and sleep would likely elude her for the remainder of the morning. Still, she resisted, forcibly keeping her eyes clenched shut. Even if she wasn't going to get back to sleep, she also didn't want to wake up. Instead, she continued to lay there, allowing whatever random thoughts circling through her subconscious have free reign in the forefront of her mind. Several images flashed in her mind's eye; images of Limbo, Poe, Night Owl, and...
The image of Loose Leaf suddenly appeared in her thoughts, standing over her and brandishing a knife with a psychotic grin.
Samba's eyes flew open, and she shot up from her bed in a near panic.
Except she wasn't in her bed. She was in her living room, on the couch. Confusion came over her. The last thing she remembered was that image of Leaf. She recalled being stabbed. She remembered the pain. She thought she had died. Had it all been a dream? A lucid nightmare?
"Mornin', sleeping beauty."
Samba's ears perked up at the sound of the somewhat familiar voice. She glanced over the back of the couch toward the kitchen, where Poe Ravensong was seated at the table, helping herself to a bowl of oatmeal. Webber was present as well, just laying on the table near Poe.
Poe looked in the general direction of the bathroom. "Yo, Limbo, she's awake."
Limbo practically broke the bathroom door down on her way out, rushing over to Samba's side. "Samba! You okay?! How you feeling?!"
Samba was a little taken aback by her very concerned tone, like that of an overbearing mother after her kid had scuffed their knee. "Um, okay, I guess?"
Poe got up from the table, grabbing Limbo by the tail and pulling her back a smidge. "Give 'er some room, yeah?" She offered a more calming smile to Samba. "Welcome back."
Samba scratched her head, still feeling a little confused. "What happened? Last thing I remember was being at Leaf's place, and he..."
"Stabbed you, yeah."
Samba stared at Poe, waiting for the "Psyche!" But after a few moments of awkward silence and a curious quirk of Poe's eyebrow as she awaited her response, Samba gleaned that she wasn't joking. "Really?"
"Just look."
Samba looked down, finding a sizable scar in the middle of her chest, though the wound had healed over nicely enough. But the presence of the scar was puzzling on its own. "Wait, how long was I out?"
"Well, it's ten in the morning, so about five hours," answered Limbo.
That only confused her further. How could a grievous stab wound to the chest heal over in just five hours? "I... don't understand."
"Yeah, well, the spell couldn't totally fix it, so you're just gonna have to bear that scar," Poe informed her.
Samba blinked. "'Spell'?"
That's when it started to click. She was stabbed. That actually happened. The question then became: how could one possibly survive such a wound? The answer: they couldn't. That just left one explanation. She had indeed died. Leaf killed her. So if she was still here, sitting in her own apartment, talking to Limbo and Poe, then that would mean...
"Wait... Are you telling me...? Am I...?"
Limbo grinned. "Yup. Welcome to the six-feet-under club, Samba."
Samba's pupils narrowed, a feeling of panic crashing over her like a tidal wave. She held a hoof to her chest, suddenly feeling the urge to start hyperventilating as the anxiety hit her, but she was now acutely aware of the fact that she was not even breathing at all. Also, her skin was cold, and her heart wasn't beating.
She looked between the two other mares, both smiling with a mixture of compassion and amusement at her reaction. "I'm a zombie?!"
"'Fraid so," Poe confirmed. Seeing that her new friend was on the verge of a panic attack, she decided to try and quell the confusion and uncertainty flooding her mind. "Hey, you know by now that bein' dead has its perks, yeah? You don't gotta eat, so you save money on food and drinks."
"And you wear perfume regularly anyway, so you probably don't have to worry about odor too much," added Limbo.
"I don't think she's gonna have nearly as many problems as you, Limbo. You had to spend two weeks in my freezer after floatin' in seawater for a few hours. Samba's innards ain't really rotten at all by comparison. The only real damage is that scar and probably the punctured lung, maybe some heart damage, but as long as her brain's good, she's good."
Even if she didn't need to, Samba took a deep breath. She could practically feel the oxygen whistling through the hole in her damaged lung, though that might have just been her imagination. Of course, she had many questions, and she wasn't sure where to start. Her mind just picked one at random.
She rubbed the scar on her chest. "Um... I remember Limbo mentioning that damage from before death couldn't be fixed. So why did my stab wound heal over?"
"That was just an assumption," said Poe. "Considerin' Limbo stunk like a wet dog in a sewer, we could safely assume her guts weren't in pristine condition no more. And it ain't like her eye grew back or nothin'. Guess if the wound is fresh enough, the spell can at least partially repair it, lucky for you. It'd be pretty weird if you had to walk around in public with an open gash in your chest."
Speaking of gashes and wounds, Samba suddenly remembered something. "Oh my gosh! Poe, your leg! Are you—"
Poe raised her hoof to cut her off. "Chill, I'm fine." She lifted the leg, showing that it was wrapped in medical bandages, though already pretty soaked with blood.
Samba sat back on the couch with a relieved sigh. "Oh, okay. But I'm surprised they let you out of the hospital with a wound like that."
"Hospital?" Poe scoffed. "You think I had time for that? We had to drag you here as fast as we could and set up the spell to bring you back. Mighta left some stains, but Limbo managed to mostly clean 'em out while I was wrappin' myself up, along with the runes I had to draw. Hope ya don't mind me using the stuff in your medicine cabinet. And your cleaning supplies."
At the mention of the necromancy spell, another disturbing thought occurred to Samba. She looked at Poe with deep worry, as well as guilt. "Wait. Does that mean... you sacrificed another ten years of your life force? For me?"
Poe waved her concern off dismissively. "Look, don't make a fuss over it. What was I gonna do between the ages of sixty and eighty anyway? Sit around a retirement home waiting for some nurse to bring me my pills? The way I see it, if I don't accomplish all the stuff I wanna do before I hit sixty, then I ain't livin' my best life anyhow."
Samba still frowned with remorse. "You really didn't have to do that. It's wasted on somepony like me..."
"Alright, I'm gonna stop you right there," Limbo interrupted sternly. She gave Samba a firm prod in the chest, making her wince. "First of all, you just got brought back from the dead. You'd think at least a thank you would be in order. Second, this whole thing you got going in that brain o' yours is exactly that; it's all in your head. You feel guilty for your past mistakes and keep telling yourself that you're worthless, and a bad wife, and a bad mom, or whatever garbage you keep feeding yourself. Maybe you were back then, but that's not the Samba I know. The Samba I know wanted to better herself. She wanted to help me help other people. She caught Trixie's kidnapper, she found the theif at the Magi-Tech Expo, she figured out that the Ghost wasn't a changeling, and she was willing to put her life on the line to save her daughter all by herself. Weren't you the one who said that if it came down to your life or Pira's, you weren't sure what you'd do? Well, I guess we know the answer now, don't we? And I wasn't about to let you get outta showing that cute little filly how great a mom you can be."
Samba just deflated, not because Limbo's words were ringing hollow, but because she was starting to realize that Limbo was right. She must have sounded insufferable all this time, constantly bringing herself down and underselling herself. She did save Pirouette, and Leaf's other victims. And, of course, she saved Limbo.
She straightened up, an adamant look in her eyes. "You might be right, but I still don't regret what I did. Admittedly, it never occurred to me that Poe would be willing to bring me back if I ended up getting killed. So I was literally throwing my life away to save you, because you wouldn't get another chance if he had stabbed you. Like I said, there's so much more you can do with the life that Poe gave you. I think I feel the same about how haphazard you could be as you did about the way I talked about myself."
Limbo scratched her head with a sigh. "Alright, I guess that's fair." She received a firm slap upside the head from Poe. "Ow! The hay was that for?!"
"For bein' a dingus, ya dingus," Poe chastised with a furrowed brow. "I bring you back to life, and you go and act all gung ho because you think you ain't got a life left to lose? You do have a life, dummy: mine. That's my life force keepin' you going, dipwad. I didn't bring you back just so you could save me and then chuck yourself back in the harbor. There's people in this city that still need your help."
Limbo grumbled incoherently like a child scolded, rubbing the back of her head. "Yeah, well... the slap was unnecessary..." She received another slap in response. "Geez, will you stop?"
"You gonna apologize?"
"Ugh, fine, I'm sorry. Happy?"
Poe grinned playfully, draping a hoof over her best friend's shoulders and pulling her into a light embrace.
As much as she didn't want to interrupt them, Samba still had some stuff on her mind. "Um, I do have one more question. How'd you even cast the necromancy spell? Didn't you burn the book?"
"Yeah, but I just committed it to memory," Poe answered simply. "What, you think I'm just gonna let a spell like that be lost to time? I had a notebook back home that I drew the runes in, like, a hundred times to make sure I didn't forget it in case I ever needed it again. Course, I told the Ghost I couldn't remember and he just believed me."
"You're lucky he did, because the alternative was you being murdered," Limbo told her sternly.
"Look, can we all just admit that that we've all made some reckless decisions," Poe said with a roll of her eyes.
Limbo smirked victoriously. "Ain't all high and mighty now that the horseshoe's on the other hoof, huh?"
"You wanna shut it?" Poe ordered with a threatening glower. "I don't wanna have to beat you down after you guys saved me."
Limbo pressed her forehead against Poe's, challenging the threat. "With your bum leg? That's come cockiness there, but I'll take a free win."
"Guys, can we not? At least, not in my apartment," Samba interjected. She looked at Poe specifically, flashing a smile of deep gratitude. "But Limbo had a point. I owe you big time for bringing me back to life. I just don't know how I can possibly repay a debt like that."
Poe flicked a hoof dismissively. "Eh, don't worry about it. You saved me first, 'member? Far as I'm concerned, this makes us even."
"I... can't really accept that. You cut off ten years of your life for me—not to mention the years you lost in captivity—and according to Limbo, the spell's effects are indefinite. So you've now lost twenty years of your life while me and Limbo get to live forever." Samba blinked after she said that. "Which is... something else entirely that I now have to come to grips with. Anyway, what I'm saying is that you got the raw end of the deal. I feel like I should do something in return."
"You don't have to do nuttin'," Poe reiterated. "I don't need nopony waitin' on me cuz they feel like they owe me. That'd just make me feel weird."
Samba didn't want to accept that, but also didn't want to impose on her. After a quick glance around the apartment, she spotted the half-eaten bowl of oatmeal that Poe had made for herself. She grinned hospitably. "Okay, then, what if I just make you a something to eat. You know, something better than just a bowl of oatmeal."
Poe hesitated, but just to settle this debt, she smiled back. "You know what? Sure, I'll take that."
Samba eagerly skipped to the kitchen. "Great! I may not be a particularly good chef, but I won't say I'm bad either. I can make some pancakes, maybe some hash browns, marmalade toast, a hot cup of tea—uh, wait..." She glanced back, hoping she didn't insult Poe. "Maybe coffee?"
"Nah, tea's fine. I ain't a caffeine freak like this junkie," Poe joked as she nudged Limbo, earning a slight scowl from her friend.
"Cool, I'll just get everything ready, and maybe I'll make it a meal for the three of us if I have enough stuff for it."
Samba hopped around the kitchen, grabbing everything she needed with her magic. She pulled out the frying pan, retrieved a pack of frozen hash browns from the freezer, popped some slices of bread into the toaster, filled the kettle...
But as she did all this, Limbo only watched in awe at all the things Samba was moving around, the mare obliviously humming a tune to herself as she prepped their breakfast. Limbo felt the need to interrupt her and bring her attention to the elephant in the room. "Um, Samba?"
The dancer halted, turning to her with an amicable grin. "What's up? Oh, if it's about coffee, I think I still have some of the stuff I bought for you left."
Limbo just pointed.
Samba quirked an eyebrow, puzzled. She looked around, now noticing all the objects hovering around her, wrapped in a silky, pink aura. She let out a surprised yelp as she finally realized what she was doing, and everything suddenly fell to the floor as the light of her horn disappeared. "Wh-What the—?! W-Was I...? Huh?!"
"What's the deal?" Poe asked the two mares.
"Samba has funnel horn," Limbo breathed.
"Yeah? Doesn't look it to me."
"Well, she did."
Samba just stood there, flabbergasted, staring at all the cooking supplies scattered around her that had been hovering around her head moments ago.
"Okay, so she's better now, or what?" Poe surmised based on the evidence.
"Wh-What happened? Why can I use magic all of a sudden?" Samba stammered uncomprehendingly.
"Maybe it's the necromancy spell," Limbo posited. "She's got that magic powering her brain now, right?"
Poe shook her head. "If she was using the spell's magic, it'd be a different color. My aura is red, so the spell's aura is red, so, presumably, her aura would be red if that was the case. Plus, from what I know about funnel horn, it restricts magic use. So it wouldn't matter what the magic's source is if the flow to the conduit is cut off."
Samba's eyes widened, a realization dawning on her. "Wait... I used the Spellmet..."
"So?" questioned Poe. "Don't that thing let people use spells even if they can't use much magic themselves?"
"Leaf used to have funnel horn too," Limbo told her. "Apparently, the Spellmet was what cured it."
Poe just shrugged with a nonchalant smile. "Well, great. You can use magic now. Congrats. So, we gonna have breakfast, or...?"
Samba perked up, an idea suddenly coming to her. "Oh! I just thought of a way that I can properly repay you now! If I can use magic, then you can teach me the necromancy spell, we kill you, then we bring you back to life! Then the twenty year loss won't matter, right?"
Limbo and Poe just stared, a little dumbfounded and shocked.
"Um, that's... kind of a morbid suggestion, don't you think?" Limbo commented.
"I, uh... appreciate the thought and everything, but I don't think it works like that," said Poe. "It uses the caster's life force, and, as we just established, your magic ain't my magic. And you ain't got no life force to give no more."
Samba deflated a little, feeling a bit silly and kind of embarrassed. "Oh. Well, can we forget I suggested killing you, then?" she requested with an awkward grin.
"Only if I still get breakfast," Poe chuckled.
Samba jumped right on that, admittedly excited to actually use her magic to help. It felt surprisingly natural considering she'd gone her whole life without it up until now, but she decided to take it slow to avoid making a mess or hurting herself—not that the latter point mattered much anymore.
As breakfast was being prepared, there was a knock on the door.
"Can you get that, Limbo?" Samba requested.
Limbo answered the door, and on the other side was Night Owl, sans uniform. "Wow, back already? Figured you'd be up to you neck in paperwork," she quipped, stepping aside to let him in.
Owl sighed as he walked in. "I'm delegating. I've got too much on my mind to focus on that stuff. Plus, I'm on leave for a while because of this," he said, raising his hoof wrapped in bandages. He looked toward the kitchen, seeing Samba casually cooking for her guests.
Poe smirked knowingly. "What's up, Sarge? You look like you seen a ghost."
"Not inaccurate, all things considered," Limbo added with a snicker.
Owl ignored their joking as he continued to stare at Samba—particularly, the knife-shaped scar on her chest—making the mare feel a little awkward. "So... the spell worked, I guess."
Limbo answered for her. "Yep. Samba's a bona fide undead abomination."
Samba took a step toward Owl, a worried and pleading look in her eyes. "What are you going to do now, Owl?"
Owl just looked her in the eye with utmost seriousness and professionalism, eliciting a nervous gulp from Samba. "I assume you're talking about the legal ramifications of your situation." He closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh through his nostrils. "In regards to yourself and Limbo, you've technically done nothing wrong. The one who broke the law was her," he said with a tilt of his head toward Poe.
"So, what? You gonna arrest me now, is that it?" Poe asked in a defiant tone.
Owl paused for a moment to exchange stares with her before answering. "Let me ask you something: what kind of person do you think I am?"
Poe arched an eyebrow, the question causing her to lower her guard.
"In the past, Limbo's accused me and the whole force of being too selective about the crimes we choose to persecute, whether it's worth the effort. After all of this nonsense with the Ghost, I've been thinking it's time for some restructuring at the precinct."
"That mean you're gonna fire the all incompetent boobs you've got over there?" asked Limbo.
"If we did that, we'd have no police force left, and I'm including myself in that. No, from now on, I'm just gonna make sure we're all people that the citizens of Baltimare can actually depend on, if only to make you eat your words."
Limbo smirked. "I look forward to being proved wrong."
Owl looked back at Poe silently before shrugging his shoulders indifferently. "But old habits die hard, and my cuffs are back at the precinct, soooo..."
Samba grinned with relief. "Thank you, Owl."
"That being said, if your secret gets out eventually, leave me out of it. I'm giving you guys a pass because you've all been through a lot. Don't make me regret it."
"I'll try my best, but I've still got to get used to this," said Samba with a light chuckle.
Owl glanced at her scar. "Might want to cover that up for a while, though. People might get suspicious if they suddenly see you with a fully healed scar out of nowhere."
Samba rubbed the mark on her chest. "That's a good point. I bet I have something here I can use." She started rummaging through the boxes she still hadn't unpacked and removed a white, silk scarf, wrapping it around her neck. "How's that?"
Seeing that the scar was fully concealed by the garment, Owl shrugged. "That works."
Limbo nudged Owl. "Hey, been meaning to ask: you let Career out?"
Owl nodded, though solemnly. "Yeah, but his relief was pretty short-lived. As aggravating as it's been to deal with him, I took no pleasure in breaking the news to him."
"I would bet. Imagine finding out that your younger brother was the Ghost of Baltimare and then learning that he's dead. The guy's probably in shambles right now," Limbo commented with a surprising amount of sympathy.
"No kidding. I wouldn't be surprised if he pulled out of the race. That's a lot of emotional stress to deal with without having to run in an election at the same time."
"Um..."
Owl quirked an eyebrow at Samba. "What's wrong?"
She hesitated to answer, her mind wracked with worry and guilt. "I... I'm the one who... killed him, right?" she whimpered meekly.
Both Limbo and Poe stared at Owl, waiting for his response.
"I can't tell you not to feel guilty or anything, but if you're worried about being labeled a murderer, or getting arrested, I think you can relax," Owl told her. "There's undeniably a case for justified self-defense. The culprit was armed and he'd already injured two people. Your actions, while perhaps hasty and reckless, saved lives in the end. Kind of reminds me of somepony else I know..." he said, casting a smirk towards Limbo. "Whether you consider that a compliment or an insult is up to you."
Samba was relieved to hear that, but still regretted that she had to do that. However, her eyes briefly shifted to Poe, as though expecting something from her.
The other unicorn looked practically disgusted when she pieced together what was going through Samba's mind. "Whatchu lookin' at me like that for? I ain't givin' up another ten years to bring a criminal back to life. He made his bed, now he gotta lay in it. That bed just happens to be a coffin."
Samba sighed, but shrugged in acceptance. "I guess. Just feel pretty bad for Mr. Career, that's all."
"Understandable, but I'd prefer if you kept this whole situation under wraps," Owl requested. "I'd rather it not get out that I allowed civilians to put their lives in danger."
"Least we can do for you for keeping our secret," Samba agreed with a grin.
"Knock knock."
The four ponies turned toward the door that Owl had left open. Standing at the threshold was a pair of changelings: Mandible and a male changeling with dark blue chiton, a purple shell, and pink for his eyes and the membranes of his mane and tail. Samba had seen him briefly when she rescued Leaf's victims at the soup kitchen, so she knew this was Mandible's brother Pedipalp. Upon seeing the two, Webber scurried away, hiding on the underside of the dining table.
"Oh, Mandi, hi!" Samba greeted enthusiastically. "You two holding up okay?"
Mandible nodded, a notable amount of relief in her eyes. "Yeah, we're good. The police kept us overnight to ask about the Ghost, but I guess the cops caught him while we were there."
"Hey, don't give Owl all the credit. I was there too," Limbo told her.
"Yes. As a victim," Owl reminded her with a needling smirk.
Limbo pouted grouchily. "Well, she didn't need to know that."
Mandible shoved her brother into the apartment and in front of Samba, surprising both of them "Oh! I didn't get a chance to introduce my brother last night! This is Pedipalp, or just Ped."
Pedipalp grinned awkwardly, his blue skin tinting red around the cheeks. "Uh, hi," he greeted, his voice similarly nasally to Mandible's own.
"Um, nice to meet you," said Samba hospitably.
"So, whatcha gonna do now, Ped?" Poe asked. "You gonna keep goin' on with your little tour of Equestria?"
Pedipalp sighed, scratching his head. "Maybe eventually. But after all this, I think I need some house medicine."
Samba, Limbo, and Owl just stared, befuddled.
"Think he means he's homesick," Poe explained.
Limbo rolled her eyes. "Great, they both do this crap."
"So we're gonna catch a flight back to the Changeling Kingdom and just relax and spend some brother-sister time together for a while," said Mandible, giving her brother a loving hug.
"We can stay in touch, though, right?" Samba asked hopefully.
"Yeah, totally! I'll send you jewelry every now and then!"
Samba tilted her head. "Uh, you... don't have to do that."
"She's sayin' she'll 'give you a ring,'" Poe told her.
"Oh, right. Oh, wait, your phone was destroyed, though."
"Oh! Actually, that's one of the reasons I came over. Before we head home, me, Ped, and everycreature else that was kidnapped are all gonna go out and get new phones and maybe have a big dinner together. We wanted to invite Poe, and you guys can come too if you want! Oh, and Pira!"
"I'm down," said Poe with an eager grin, then cast a smirk at Limbo. "Just make sure Limbo ain't around when we get the phones. Her aura might fry 'em all off the bat."
Samba's ears perked up at something Mandible said. "Hang on, where is Pira anyway?"
"The cops said they were bringing her home," Pedipalp answered. He looked around the apartment. "Is she not here?"
Samba shook her head. "She lives with her father on the other side of town. Speaking of which, I should really go see her. And Rhapsody..." she said, crestfallen. "It is my fault she ended up in that situation, so I should explain."
Limbo placed a hoof on her shoulder sympathetically. "Don't take on all the blame. It's my fault too. I'll go with you, if that's okay."
A small smile worked its way back onto Samba's face. "Yeah, it's fine. I'm sure Pira would want to know you're okay anyway."
"In that case, I'm goin' too," Poe insisted. "But can we take a taxi? I ain't walkin' across the city like this." She lifted her injured leg.
Pedipalp gasped. "Poe! What happened?!"
The unicorn just shrugged off his concern. "Don't worry about it. It's nothin'. Should probably see a doctor eventually though," she mumbled.
"Well, I'm gonna be on my way," Owl said, brushing past the two changelings toward the door. "Enjoy the rest of your day, folks."
"Thanks for stopping by, Owl," said Samba gratefully. "And thank you for everything else too."
He just gave a nonchalant wave over his shoulder as he disappeared into the hall.
Samba turned to Limbo and Poe. "You mind if we postpone our breakfast. Uh, well, I guess it'll end up being brunch at that point."
"Kinda hungry after the night we had, but sure," said Poe with a shrug.
"'Kay, well, guess we'll untangle your mane, then," said Mandible. "We just wanted to stop by to make sure you guys were okay. We'll smack you down when we figure out when we're gonna do the phone slash dinner thing."
"Alright. See you later." Samba waved to the pair of changelings as they also took their leave. She then turned to the two remaining mares. "So, we ready to head to Rhapsody's?"
Limbo started toward the kitchen. "Yep, just let me get a coffee to go."
***** ***** *****
Samba just stared at the number plate on the door, her expression full of trepidation as she pensively shuffled her hooves on the carpet of the apartment building's second floor hallway. She had already buzzed up at the entrance, so Rhapsody knew she was coming. Now the problem was actually biting the bullet, because she knew what was going to happen when she went inside.
"Soooo, is your ex gonna serve us tea out here, or do we actually get to go inside at some point?" Poe said impatiently.
A long sigh escaped from Samba's now superfluous lungs. "I'm... not looking forward to this, in case you couldn't tell. I think I still need a minute to compose myself and figure out what I'm gonna say."
"Or I can just rip the bandage off for ya." Poe didn't wait for approval and just knocked on the door, causing Samba to tense up nervously.
"H-Hey! I'm not ready yet!"
"Well, I've got a hole in my leg here, so I'd like to get this over with before I pass out."
Before Samba could voice any more protestations, a voice called out from inside the apartment, sounding rather terse and exasperated already. "Come in."
Poe just gestured for Samba to lead the way, forcing the dancer to swallow her apprehension and open the door. Samba, Poe, and Limbo stepped inside, finding both Rhapsody and Pirouette seated at the dinner table, eating a hearty pancake breakfast with all the fixings; maple syrup, blueberries, strawberries, chocolate chips, whipped cream. Seemed as though Rhapsody was trying to keep a little girl who had just been through a harrowing experience calm and happy, evidenced by Pirouette's ravenous appetite as she voraciously devoured her meal. Rhapsody, on the other hoof, had no plate. He was simply seated there quietly, looking the same as he usually did after a long and rather taxing day at work. And that expression was directed towards Samba the moment she entered the apartment.
Conversely, when Pirouette saw her mother, her already content grin grew even wider. She hopped down from her chair and rushed over to meet her, her mouth still covered in whipped cream and her tongue stained purple from the blueberries. "Mommy! You're okay!" she exclaimed as she leapt into her mother's embrace.
Samba hugged her back gently. She didn't really have the heart to tell her that that wasn't exactly true.
Pirouette's sights then shifted to Limbo, who greeted the filly with a friendly grin. "Lady Limbo! You're okay too!"
"Sure am, squirt. Gonna take more than that to keep me down," said Limbo, giving the filly's mane a playful tousle.
While Pirouette was busy celebrating that Limbo and Poe were well, Samba's attention was instead focused on Rhapsody, who was walking over to them with a scornful scowl on his face. Samba knew what was coming and braced herself for it.
"Hey, so, interesting thing," Rhapsody started with a sardonic tone. "I just learned that our daughter was kidnapped yesterday. Can you, uh... explain that to me real quick?"
Samba sighed shamefully. "I'm... not going to try and convince you it wasn't my fault, because it was. I admit that, but—"
Rhapsody held up his hoof to stop her. He clenched his eyes shut, rubbing his temple as he tried to comprehend this. "Look, just... don't, okay? First of all, why am I only hearing about this now? Our daughter gets kidnapped while under your care, and I don't learn about it until the cops bring her home. Did you not think to tell me about this?!"
Samba opened her mouth to defend herself, but Rhapsody kept talking at her angrily.
"You've done some irresponsible things, Samba, but this takes the cake. How in the world can you be so inattentive that our daughter ends up kidnapped?!"
Samba shrunk back, her ears flattening against her head. She couldn't even look him in the eye. She knew he was right, and even telling him that she went to save her wouldn't likely convince him otherwise; he'd only think it was even more irresponsible to put herself in danger like that.
Rhapsody just shook his head with an exasperated groan. "Look, I don't even want to do this right now. Just leave."
"Alright, I understand..." Samba sighed quietly. She turned back toward the door, this meeting going pretty much how she'd expected. She wouldn't be at all surprised if Rhapsody wanted to nix the idea of her and Pirouette's monthly weekends together from now on.
Pirouette watched with a frown as her mother started to leave. However, before Samba could reach the door, Poe grabbed her by the leg and pulled her back.
"Now hold up one second here," the black unicorn insisted with a glower toward Rhapsody. "I know you two are divorced and everything, and while I'm no relationship expert or nothin' and don't know all the details around you guys splitin' up, I'm gonna go ahead and say that ain't any way to be talkin' to your kid's mom."
Rhapsody just shot a scowl right back at her. "If you don't know the details, then maybe you should butt out. This is none of your business. Who the hay are you anyway?"
"That's Miss Ravensong, Daddy," Pirouette told him with a chipper grin. "I met her after I got taken away."
Rhapsody's stern expression let up a little. "Oh. You were one of the kidnapping victims?"
"Yeah, that's right. So I met your little girl already. She's a tough cookie that one, let me tell you. Didn't cry at all."
"I cried a little..." Pirouette admitted quietly, knowing that Poe only said that for her father's sake.
Rhapsody raised an inquisitive and impatient eyebrow. "Okay, so what does this have to do with Samba?"
"Everything," Poe stated firmly. "You wanna know what this little filly talked about the whole time she was in there with us? This mare." She pointed a hoof at Samba. "The entire time she was telling us how her mommy and Limbo were gonna come and save us. Because she has faith in her mother. She respects her. And you know what? She was right. Wasn't in there for even a whole day and Samba shows up and frees us all." Poe draped a hoof over Samba's shoulders, pulling her in close, though maybe a little more forcefully than Samba would've liked. "We owe this mare our lives, and so does Pira."
Rhapsody obviously already knew that—there was no way Pirouette wouldn't have mentioned that immediately—so he didn't look surprised. But with how adamantly Poe was defending her, he let his guard down slightly.
"Just to clarify," Limbo chimed in, "after she disappeared, Samba immediately went to the police. But apparently they were stretched too thin with an investigation to help her."
"Okay, I understand that, but that doesn't change the fact that she let it happen in the first place," he reiterated.
"Come on, that wasn't entirely her fault. We were both being deceived by an expert criminal."
"Aren't you supposed to be the expert at catching such criminals?" Rhapsody chided.
Limbo wasn't fazed by the insult. "We all make mistakes. I'm sure you ain't exactly Mister Perfect either."
"Look, when it comes right down to it, this is none of your business," he repeated to both Limbo and Poe. "This is between me and Samba, and I'm still pretty hung up on the fact that she let our daughter get kidnapped. So forgive me if I'm a little tightly wound right now, but I'll be the one to decide what's best for my daughter."
Limbo's terse scowl shifted to a rather furious glare. Samba wasn't sure she'd ever seen Limbo look so angry before. "Alright, I've had about enough of this. This mare," she insisted, pointing to Samba, "is a wonderful person. Maybe a little hard on herself, some poor self-esteem, but I'm of the opinion that you're mostly responsible for that given the way you talk about her. And yet she still has nothing but good to say about you! I don't understand how this woman is still in love with you, but you know what? Maybe it's a good thing you got divorced, because you don't deserve her!"
Rhapsody winced slightly under her verbal assault, but didn't back down. "Okay, I get that she essentially corrected her mistake, and that's a step in the right direction, for sure, but I'd be willing to bet you were there to help her."
"And what's wrong with that?! Isn't that why people fall in love and get married? To help each other? To cover for their own weaknesses? To feel complete? After I first met you, she insisted on helping me investigate the Ghost, and I've already told you how helpful she's been! And now we've done it! We finally caught the Ghost of Baltimare! And it's because of her!"
Rhapsody was quite surprised to hear that. "Really? That... sounds like an exaggeration."
"An exaggeration?! An exaggeration?!" Limbo was chomping at the bit now, gritting her teeth furiously. Somehow, this stallion still needed proof. And Limbo had just the proof to give him to show just how far Samba was willing to go to help people. "I might not be the most serious person in Equestria, but I absolutely am not exaggerating when I tell you that this mare sacrificed her life for me last night!"
Samba's eyes widened. "Limbo! What are you doing?!"
Poe just stood there quietly, waiting to see how this played out.
Rhapsody furrowed his brow at her, vexed by the assertion. "What are you talking about? She's standing right here."
Limbo pointed at Samba again, the utmost seriousness in her single silver eye. "The mare that's standing before you right now is a walking corpse. A zombie reanimated by dark magic."
Pirouette stared, wide-eyed, at her mother. "You're a zombie, Mommy?"
"Um, well..." Samba wasn't entirely sure how to play along with this. She didn't know what to say in this situation that would make things better.
"What kind of joke are you playing at right now?" Rhapsody asked with doubt dripping from his voice. "A zombie? That's ridiculous. Zombie's aren't real."
"Yeah?" Limbo grabbed Rhapsody by the leg, forcing him to place his hoof against Samba's barrel.
After a moment, Rhapsody realized how cold she felt, and he now also noticed the distinct lack of a heartbeat. His mouth started to fall open in disbelief. "What...? I don't understand..." He saw Samba's eyes turn away, as though she were ashamed of what she was.
"Samba was stabbed last night," Limbo told him. "And if she hadn't thrown herself under the knife, I wouldn't be here right now. F.Y.I.: I'm a zombie too, so if I had been stabbed, there'd be no coming back for me."
Rhapsody looked his ex-wife in the eye, still unsure if he truly believed this. "How...? Samba... She's not serious, is she? Are you really...?"
Samba sighed quietly. She pulled down the silken scarf around her neck. Rhapsody was taken aback by the sight of the scar that was hidden beneath it. "It's true. I... was murdered last night by the Ghost. Poe brought me back to life using an illegal necromancy spell."
Rhapsody was at a loss for words. This sounded so absurd that it almost had to be true. But, still, how could he just believe that his ex-wife was a zombie? It was too farfetched to just accept. He shook his head, trying to reject the very notion. "Okay, I don't know how this works really, but this is pretty far to go to try and convince me that she's changed."
Poe started toward the kitchen, unnoticed.
"You still don't believe us?! The hay is wrong with you?!" Limbo snapped. "I just willingly revealed a secret about myself that I've been keeping for the past couple of years! What else do I need to do to convince you?!"
Before anypony could say anything else, a kitchen knife wreathed in red magic was suddenly thrust into the side of Samba's ribs.
Rhapsody took a step back in horror. "Holy crap! Samba!"
Samba simply clenched her teeth, hissing in slight pain. "Ow! What the hay, Poe?" she said, casting a disgruntled—yet nonchalant given that she was just stabbed—glare at the black mare.
"He still needed convincin', so I'm just showin' him that we ain't jokin' around," Poe explained casually.
Samba pulled the knife from her body with her magic, causing a small splash of blood as her blood had not yet had time to coagulate like Limbo's. She glared at Poe with a disapproving grumble. "What is with you two and ruining perfectly good cutlery?"
Rhapsody just stood there in shocked silence. His ex-wife had just been stabbed in front of his eyes, and she reacted as though she were merely pinched. On top of that, he watched as the wound repaired itself in a glow of red magic, making it look like it never happened. "Holy... Samba... You're actually..."
"Convincing enough for you?" said Limbo. "I can stab myself next if you needed a little extra proof."
"No, no, I think that's sufficient," Rhapsody breathed quietly. He stared worriedly at Samba. "Samba... Are you... okay? Uh, is that even something I should bother asking at this point?"
"Well, I could actually be dead," Samba answered. "As in, not reanimated, and not able to be here now. But, honestly, I don't feel that much different. Poe was pretty quick to bring me back, so there wasn't any time for me to, you know... rot."
Rhapsody just nodded rather absentmindedly. He was paying attention, but still felt like this conversation wasn't actually happening and that maybe he was just dreaming. He lightly brushed his gelled bangs aside with a quiet sigh. "This is... a lot to take in."
"I know. Believe me, it was just as much a shock for me." Samba looked at him pleadingly; a look she'd given Rhapsody a number of times around the time they got divorced. "But even if my heart can't beat anymore, that doesn't mean I don't still love you and Pira as much as I always have."
At the mention of the filly's name, Poe glanced at Pirouette. The kid was just staring at her mom silently, eyes wide and mouth agape. "Ah, geez, I didn't traumatize your kid, did I?"
Seeing the expression on his daughter's face, Rhapsody gently tried to coax Pirouette away, speaking in a gentle tone. "Maybe you should wait in your room, honey."
Pirouette resisted, not removing her eyes from her mother. "Mommy... You're..."
Samba couldn't look her in the eye. It must have been truly horrifying for a child so young to learn her mother had been killed, let alone zombified, stabbed right in front of her, and drops of her blood staining the carpet. "Pira... I know this must be scary for you, but—"
"You're using magic!"
Samba blinked at her daughter's sudden outburst, following the filly's pointing hoof to the bloody knife held in Samba's magical grasp. "Oh, uh, yeah. That's something that happened too."
"Wait, so you're dead, but you can use magic now?" Rhapsody questioned. "How does that work?"
Samba shrugged. "It's a little complicated."
"This means you can help me practice magic, Mommy!" Pirouette exclaimed gleefully, hopping in place in excitement.
Samba was a bit caught off guard by her exuberance. "Um, I guess. But your exam is in two weeks, right? I doubt I could learn any noteworthy spells in that time and still teach them to you."
"Oh! Then maybe I can teach you while I practice!"
Her mother couldn't help but smile. "That sounds like fun."
Rhapsody scratched his head at his daughter's surprising optimism. "Uh, yeah, that's great and everything, but I thought you'd be a little more shocked to find out your mom's a zombie, Pira."
Pirouette looked at her mom, her eyes going wide again as though this was the first she'd heard of it. "My mom's a zombie." A wide grin stretched across her little cheeks. "That's so cool!"
Rhapsody glanced at Samba with a rather conflicted look in response to her reaction.
"Hey, don't look at me. You're the role model," Samba told him.
Pirouette hopped over to Limbo. "And you too, Lady Limbo?!"
She nodded. "Yep. Dead as a doornail and twice as lively."
"So, um..." Pirouette looked a little confused. "What can a zombie do?"
Limbo scratched her chin. "Um, well... Any injuries we suffer get repaired, as you saw. We can even reattach severed limbs. I spent most of last night as just a talking head sitting on a table."
That seemed to pique Pirouette's curiosity. "Can I see?"
"Uh, maybe decapitation is a bit extreme for a little filly to witness. Maybe we could start with an amputated leg." Limbo held out her leg to Pirouette. "Go ahead, give it good tug."
The filly was about to eagerly grab hold, but her father desperately pulled her away
"Pira, do not! I feel like I shouldn't have to say this as a parent, but no dismembering people, please," Rhapsody begged her. He looked back at Samba, the two of them exchanging uncertain expressions. "So... Where exactly do we go from here?"
"I guess that's up to you," Samba said quietly. "Poe was generous enough to give me a second chance at life. Now... I guess I want to ask again if you'd be willing to do the same."
Rhapsody ran a hoof through his mane with a sigh. "You want to get back together. Samba, I—"
Samba stepped forward assuredly. "I want us to be a family again. I know I was never the best wife or mother, but I can tell you with confidence that I can change. I promise it'll be different. I can pull my weight this time."
Rhapsody hesitated.
"You know my opinion already," Limbo chimed in. "If you ask me, this is not the same mare you divorced. She put her life on the line for her daughter, and even lost her life to save a person she'd only known for a few weeks. I think the least you can do is take some time to get to know the new and improved Samba."
He observed the expressions of both his ex-wife and his daughter. Rhapsody stared Samba in the eye. It was a little hard to look at her the same way given what he had just learned, but her eyes were still the same eyes he remembered from their time together, but somehow... stronger.
Rhapsody closed his eyes and took a long breath through his nose before giving her his answer. "Are you still coming with us to Canterlot?" he asked with a soft smile.
Samba grinned hopefully at the question.
***** ***** *****
The afternoon sun bathed Baltimare in its warming light, a gift that the residents would have to enjoy while it lasted, as autumn would soon be approaching. Already, a slight nip could be felt in the air in the early mornings and in the evenings, so most folks had already opted to start breaking out the warm clothes in preparation for the chilly fall weather. Nevertheless, today was warm enough not to warrant it. The skies were mostly clear of clouds, the noon sun beamed down comfortingly, and the buildings beamed back as the sunlight reflected off the windows.
One building in particular shone brighter than the others. In fact, it practically blinded everycreature who looked at it. It certainly didn't help that it was one of the tallest buildings in the city, acting like an overly aggressive lighthouse in the middle of the city, except it probably inadvertently caused more accidents than it prevented. Of course, that was the headquarters of Mango Incorporated, it's primarily glass construction not exactly eyesight friendly on particularly bright days, especially for avian individuals.
A taxi carriage pulled up outside the gate to Mango Inc., and out stepped a unicorn mare, a pair of saddlebags on her back and a silky scarf wrapped around her neck for reasons other than temperature. She payed the cabbies their fare and thanked them for the lift before they galloped off to find another potential passenger.
Samba stared up at the glass building from her vantage point on the sidewalk. Even though there was still some distance from the gate to the tower, she still had to crane her neck more than she'd like. Just looking at it made her gulp involuntarily. Apparently, being undead hadn't alleviated her newfound fear of heights. Regardless, she had come here for a reason, so she did her best to suppress her apprehension and forged ahead. At least she knew the top floor only had one window, so that was at least a little comforting. A little.
Stepping inside, Samba found herself in the familiar barren tundra that was the lobby. As usual, Quad Blast was standing guard at the elevator, while Zuri, the zebra receptionist, sat at her desk some thirty feet away from the elevator. It was puzzling how the only two people who were ever present in the lobby decided to keep so much distance from one another. Then again, Zuri's face was buried in her phone, not even looking up when Samba walked in, and Quad just stood there like a statue for the most part. Either he took his job a little too seriously, or Zuri just wasn't interested in talking to him, not that Samba could necessarily blame her.
Samba approached Quad with an amicable smile. "Hi, Quad," she greeted.
He returned her greeting with a curt nod. "Afternoon, ma'am. You have an appointment?"
"Uh, no. I just got back home from a trip, actually. But I was really hoping I could talk to Mister—uh, your boss for a few minutes."
Quad hesitated for a moment, not exactly giving Samba much hope that he'd bend the rules for her. But eventually he smiled. "Well, I know the boss likes you, so I'll see what I can do. Gimme a minute."
Samba grinned gratefully as Quad made the arduous trek over to the reception desk. Even though the lobby was built like an echo chamber, she couldn't quite make out what Quad and Zuri were saying, but she got the impression that Zuri wasn't chuffed about being bothered. It took a couple of minutes, but Quad eventually sauntered back over with an accommodating smile.
"Boss said you can go on up."
"Great. Thanks, Quad," said Samba as she boarded the elevator.
"No problem, uh... Limbo?"
Samba stopped, quirking an eyebrow at him over her shoulder. He was staring at her expectantly, awaiting validation. She thought about correcting him, but opted to not, just giving a shrug. "Close enough."
With that, she let the door close and hit the button for the eightieth floor with no lack of trepidation, keeping her eyes shut the whole way up so she didn't have to watch herself rise further and further above terra firma. She opened them again once she felt the elevator come to a stop, but what she saw as the doors opened was rather unexpected.
Of course, Mango Career was seated at his desk in front of the large window that Samba did her best to avoid looking directly through. However, he was not alone. Conversing with him were both Night Owl—evidently back from leave if his uniform was any indication—and the newly reelected Mayor Highstrung. The moment the three stallions turned toward her, she hesitated, feeling more than a little awkward.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I-I didn't know you were busy," Samba apologized, prepared—and admittedly a little relieved—to ride the elevator back down. "Quad said I could come up, so I thought he got the go-ahead from you and—"
"He did," Career stated plainly. "You're not interrupting, really. Actually, your arrival is rather serendipitous given the topic of our discussion."
Samba could infer what exactly the topic was based on both his somber tone and listless expression. But that was also the reason she'd come here today, so it wasn't as though she weren't expecting the topic to come up. "You mean... Leaf?" she surmised.
"We're still investigating the effects of his actions and trying to track down his contacts," Owl explained. "Not to mention Mr. Career's on parole due to his involvement with his brother's activities, regardless of whether or not he was an unwitting accomplice."
Career sighed remorsefully. "I feel awful for the way I behaved knowing what I know now."
Samba approached Career's desk, standing alongside Owl and Highstrung. She offered a sympathetic and apologetic frown. "Sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral. I've been pretty busy spending time with my daughter and ex-husband, and I just spent a week in Canterlot, so—"
"No need to apologize," he interrupted respectfully. "We decided to keep the whole thing lowkey, seeing as he turned out to be a kidnapper and a murderer." His voice became quiet near the end of that sentence.
"Among other things," added Owl.
"It's just as well," Career continued. "There's no guarantee that the Leaf you knew was the 'real' Leaf anyway. And I'd like to apologize on his behalf for your child being kidnapped. There was no reason you needed to get involved in all of this hullabaloo."
"Well, I kinda brought that on myself when I insisted on helping Limbo," Samba admitted.
"Actually, Samba was the one who figured out that Leaf was the Ghost," Owl mentioned. "Without her, he may have slipped away from us before we could catch him."
Career's eyes widened in slight surprise. "Is that right? Well, perhaps I owe you some thanks, then."
Samba looked away ashamedly. He might not be so quick to thank her if he knew she was the one who had ultimately taken his brother's life. She briefly considered apologizing for that too, but remembered Owl's words about keeping that on the downlow, so she kept her mouth shut. She didn't want to risk upsetting him further while he was still clearly grieving.
"Speaking of which, I would like to offer my thanks as well," Mayor Highstrung chimed in. "Solving this case helped keep my reputation intact."
"Oh, uh, you're welcome. And I'm also sorry I couldn't make it to Gust's funeral," said Samba sympathetically. "She was a good person. She didn't deserve this."
"I'm sure your plate was full. Besides, it was also a small gathering, though, uh... in a different sense. Being surrounded by her friends and family is one way to make a man feel big, though," he chuckled.
"Have you reached out for a replacement yet?"
"Already have a new hire."
"Oh. That was quick," Samba said with some surprise.
"He was putting out ads the day after Gust's murder," Owl mentioned.
Samba cast him a somewhat reprimanding scowl, prompting the mayor to tug nervously at his tie.
"Wh-What? With the election so close, I needed the assistance. And she's a young hippogriff lady, real go-getter type, so she's already been quite helpful, though perhaps a tad scatterbrained at times. And the cultural diversity is a nice plus."
"Uh-huh. Oh, and congratulations on the reelection, by the way."
"Not sure winning by default warrants congratulating," Owl quipped.
Samba turned to Career. "I understand why you pulled out this time, but are you going to run in the next election, Mr. Career?"
Career flicked a hoof dismissively. "I haven't really put much thought into it at this point. A little too much on my mind currently."
"Right, sorry."
The business pony silently looked over the dismantled spellphones and spare bits and pieces scattered across his desk. "After all of this, I've even considered shutting down the whole Spellmet project."
The other three ponies were surprised to hear that, Highstrung giving him a concerned look. "Are you serious? But from everything I've heard, it's a revolutionary device. I hear your company's stock prices skyrocketed following its unveiling. And that's insane considering how valuable your company is already."
"After seeing how they can be misused... I'm sure the shareholders' opinions would flip if the authorities were to disclose how it was used by the Ghost of Baltimare. Thank you for keeping that particular detail away from the public, by the way, Sergeant."
"There are obviously people who know—namely, Leaf's victims. We've asked for their cooperation in keeping it hush, but the information could still easily get out there," Owl explained.
"And I should be prepared for the inevitable backlash when it does," Career responded quietly. "That's why I think it'd be best to preempt the situation by cancelling the project sooner rather than later."
"Please, don't cancel it."
Career looked at Samba, a pleading look in her eyes.
"Yes, the Spellmet was misused, but that was just a prototype, right? And it was your brother that took it. You're going to implement better security features and stuff when it's ready for release, so maybe just get a head start on that now."
Career sighed in defeat. "I appreciate the support, Samba, but I'm a businessman. Promises don't extinguish the flames of outrage so easily."
Samba took a step forward. "But when people actually see what your invention is capable of, they'll understand how important it is."
"They've already seen what it's supposed to do. What more do they need to see?"
"This."
Career watched as Samba's horn lit up with pink light. Then, one of the spellphones on his desk, now enveloped in the same pink aura, levitated into the air and over to Samba. Career stared, slack-jawed, as he pieced together what she was getting at.
"The Spellmet cured my funnel horn, just like it did for your brother. You might've been unsure about it at first, but doesn't this prove that whatever you're doing with the Spellmet is a huge breakthrough not just for technology, but in medicine? You've invented a cure for a crippling disability by complete accident."
Career looked conflicted. "According to Detective Limbo, Leaf's funnel horn being cured was the catalyst that lead him down the path to becoming the Ghost. If anything, this is only more concerning."
Samba smiled reassuringly. "Honestly, it's not even so much that I can use magic now that makes me happy. I don't recall feeling any kind of adrenaline rush or anything—actually, it was kinda painful, to tell the truth. But seeing the look on my daughter's face when she found out was an amazing feeling. I've been able to really connect with her over the past few weeks because of this. Practicing magic with her has been pretty fun." She punctuated that by twirling the spellphone around in the air. However, it slipped from her magical grasp and fell to the floor with a clatter. She blushed, an embarrassed grin appearing on her face. "Heh, oops. Sorry, still not very dexterous with this stuff. Uh... Do I have to pay for that?"
Career was quiet for a moment. He let out a quiet breath through his nostrils, then smiled softly at Samba. "It's fine. It was already broken."
Samba breathed a sigh of relief.
"But perhaps you have a point," Career conceded. "My brother may have simply been an outlier. Maybe if we started with a limited release, offering Spellmets only as medical aids and not available to the public immediately, we could perhaps identify and isolate similar cases."
"Maybe they could require permits to own for personal and public use," Mayor Highstrung suggested.
Owl smirked. "Actually acting like a mayor. Not a bad idea, honestly. I can ensure the B.P.D.'s cooperation with that."
Career chuckled. To Samba, it looked as though he needed that little bit of levity, like a small amount of weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Sounds like something worth discussing. So, I suppose I'll hold off on cancelling the project for a while until we can iron out the details." He looked at Samba with a grateful smile. "Thank you for coming by, Samba. It means a lot that you're willing to come here despite any hardship that me or my brother may have put you through."
"'Hardship' is putting it lightly..." Samba mumbled under her breath, rubbing the scar concealed beneath her scarf.
"That being said, I'd like to thank you properly for your contributions to the case. So, if there's anything I can do for you, just name it," Career offered.
Samba considered it for a moment. She removed her spellphone from its sleeve, staring at the crack on the screen from when Pirouette was kidnapped. Even though she'd joined Mandible and the other victims on their outing a few weeks ago to buy new phones, she didn't bother since spellphones are expensive and hers still worked fine even with the crack. But, if Career was going to offer...
"Um... A new spellphone would be nice."
Career laughed at the simple request. "Consider it done."
***** ***** *****
"A little more to the left."
Poe hoisted the desk as instructed with her magic.
Limbo eyed it up, unsatisfied. "A bit more."
Poe shifted it another couple of inches.
"Another smidge."
Poe rolled her eyes as she moved the desk again, a bead of sweat forming on her forehead as the weight of the desk started taking its toll.
"A tad more."
"I ain't doin' this 'til you run outta synonyms," Poe griped with an annoyed grimace.
Limbo pursed her lips as she sized up the desk. "Just a skosh more to the left."
In aggravation, Poe released the desk, letting it drop half an inch to the floor with a loud thud. "Yup, it's good. Ain't touchin' it no more."
"Hey, this is my office. I think I have every right to be nitpicky."
"Then move it yourself, ya lazy bum. 'If you want somethin' done right,' etcetera, etcetera."
Limbo eyed up the desk's position once more, the backdrop of the Baltimare streets through the window reminding her of her previous office. That thought brought a small smile to her face. "Yeah, that's probably good anyway."
After finally ridding Baltimare of the Ghost, Limbo got a handsome payday from Mayor Highstrung, not to mention multiple gift baskets from the grateful loved ones of Leaf's victims. So, the undead detective decided to splurge a little and do some shopping to decorate her new apartment. In actuality, Limbo's new apartment was Samba's old apartment. Samba had since moved out and was living with Rhapsody and Pirouette again on a trial basis. The couple were giving their relationship another shot, so it was suggested that Limbo turn her temporary home into a permanent one.
And that's what Limbo and Poe had been doing for the past few days. She'd bought some new furniture and fixtures—such as a desk, coffee maker, corkboard, and filing cabinets, among other things—and they'd been gradually moving the stuff into the apartment to make it feel more like home.
Poe flopped back on the couch, kicking her hooves up and prepared to take a short nap.
Limbo cocked a judgmental eyebrow at her best friend. "What are you doing?"
"What's it look like? If you're gonna make me do all the heavy liftin' just cuz I can use magic, then I'm gonna take a break every now and then. Sounds fair, yeah?"
"Yeah, well, if you're gonna lay here and mooch off of me, I'd like it if you pulled your weight."
Poe scowled at her from her reclined position. "What, draggin' that desk up the stairwell ain't pullin' my weight? Liftin' stuff with magic is strenuous too, ya know." She sat up, glaring into Limbo's singular eye. "And whatchu mean 'moochin'? My old landlord gave my apartment to somepony else when I disappeared two years ago, and you know dang well Mom and Dad moved back to Manehattan ages ago. Where else am I s'posed to go?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe to a new apartment," Limbo chastised.
"And how am I s'posed to afford a new apartment with no job, wise guy?"
"By getting a job."
Poe got up off the couch to confront her. "Oh, that's real nice. I been locked up in a smelly cellar for two years, and you're already gonna get on my case about being 'lazy.' Cut me some slack."
"Don't act like you're a traumatized child," said Limbo with a roll of her eye. "That was, like, a month ago. Get over it."
Poe narrowed her eyes. "You're a real piece of work. And a hypocrite to boot."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you splash around the water with fat, smelly hippos," Poe groaned sarcastically. "Whatchu think it means? You need a dictionary? Samba told us alllll about your little pity party after your apartment got burned down, and how she had to give you a good kick in the flank to get you off your butt. So where do you get off chewin' me out for the same thing?"
"I'm passing on a lesson I learned! Don't give me crap because I'm trying to improve your quality of life."
"Well, ain't you a saint? Shutcher hole for a few minutes and actually do some work around here yourself before you start flapping your rotten gums at me. You know the necromancer typically resurrects people to make them do their bidding, right?"
"This ain't a zombie flick, this is real life, ya dunce."
"You don't even get exhausted! You ain't got a reason to rely on me and my magic. You're the lazy one!"
"That's a fine way to talk to the person who saved your life."
"Samba ain't here," Poe goaded with a needling smirk.
Limbo grimaced in annoyance. "You're askin' for a firm smack in the jaw."
"Go ahead and try it," Poe challenged confidently. "I'll floor you, just like old times."
"You outta your mind? Not only do I have police training, but you're outta practice. What do you think you can do to me?"
Poe smirked snidely, her horn lighting up.
Limbo felt her right front leg being lifted of its own accord, wrapped in red magic. She glared at Poe. "Don't you dare rip my leg off."
"Imma rip your leg off," Poe declared defiantly.
Without even giving the threat time to gestate, Poe began tugging rather roughly on Limbo's leg until it popped out of its socket and the flesh and sinew started to peel apart, eventually wrenching it free from Limbo's body. She waved the severed limb back and forth like a trophy of her victory.
"You're really asking for it," Limbo grumbled.
Poe slapped Limbo across the face with her own dismembered hoof. "Stop hittin' yourself," she chortled.
Limbo scowled back at her. "What are you, twelve?"
"Whatchu gonna do about—" Poe was cut off when Limbo's disembodied hoof slapped her right back. Witnessing her snarky snickering, Poe swung the whole leg at her, bringing it across her face again with more force and dislocating Limbo's jaw.
Even though her jaw clicked back into place moments later, Limbo still cast a rather infuriated glower at Poe. "That's it, you're goin' down!"
Limbo tackled Poe to the ground with a primal shout, managing to pin her despite being down a leg and started delivering restrained punches with her remaining front leg.
"Really? This is your 'police training'?" Poe laughed as she held her hooves up to block the blows. "You fight like a moody teenager. Seriously, what happened in the last two years? You really let yourself go."
"I'm gonna kill you so hard, no necromancy spell will be able to bring you back!"
"Ooo, I'm so scared. But, seriously, this is startin' to get annoying."
"Then cry uncle, ya big baby!"
Their fight was put on hold for the moment when they heard the door open. The two mares turned to find Samba standing at the threshold, looking a little befuddled by the sight of them on the floor, one missing a leg.
"Um... Am I interrupting something?" Samba inquired cautiously.
Poe capitalized on Limbo's moment of distraction to kick her in the gut, knocking the little wind she had in her lungs out of her and pushing her aside as she reeled. Poe stood up, casually dusting herself off and greeting Samba with an amicable grin. "Nah, just messin' around. We got two years of this junk to catch up on."
Samba eyed up the severed leg on the floor. She gave the pair a reprimanding glare. "You know, you two need to be more careful about this stuff. Anypony could've walked in and found you like this."
Poe grabbed the limb and waved it in the air carelessly. "Relax, would ya? We're just breakin' in the new apartment. Gotta make it feel like home, right?"
Samba sniffed the air. "Well, it's already starting to develop a java-y scent, so you're on your way." She glanced up to the corner of the ceiling near the door, spotting Webber perched in a web. The spider waved a leg at Samba. "And Webber's already made himself comfortable I see."
Limbo snatched her leg back from Poe and reattached it, flashing a welcoming smile at Samba. "Hey, welcome back. How was your trip?"
Samba grinned eagerly. She'd been looking forward to talking about it. "It was great! First of all, Pira passed her exam!" she exclaimed with an proud squeal.
"Nice," Poe congratulated. "Bet she was bouncin' off the walls."
"You're not kidding," Samba giggled. "And it only got worse when she met Princess Twilight. I thought she was gonna explode when the princess offered to give us a tour of the castle."
"Using your influence to pull some strings, eh?" Limbo joked with a sly smirk.
"Well, I can't say you're wrong," she responded somewhat bashfully. She let out a rather conflicted sigh. "But it's still a bittersweet feeling. I'm ecstatic that Pira gets to go to Celestia's school, but it's kind of a shame that this has to happen so soon. We just started the long journey towards repairing our family, and now our daughter is gonna be moving to Canterlot when the school season starts in the fall."
"Ain't like you're not gonna go visit her, yeah?" said Poe in an attempt to cheer her up.
Samba smiled. "Well, yeah, of course. Whenever we get the chance."
Limbo hesitated to ask the question on the tip of her tongue, but her curiosity got the better of her. "So, uh... Not to pry or anything, but how are things going between you and Rhapsody anyhow?"
Her smile persisted, which was already a good sign. "I think it's going well. When we were exploring Canterlot, it felt like we were dating again. And just being with him and watching Pira enjoy herself made me feel more like a real parent than I ever have."
"Think you're gonna get remarried?" Poe asked rather bluntly.
Samba rubbed her neck awkwardly. "Um, well, I don't know if we're quite there yet, but maybe someday. I don't know if he's been going easy on me or not, but he's definitely seemed pretty happy since I moved back in with them. Oh, speaking of 'moving in,' I got you a little house-warming present."
She opened her saddlebags and passed Limbo the gift. It was a white coffee cup with fancy gold trim and the words "Best Princess" written in purple cursive.
"I picked it up in a souvenir shop in Canterlot. Figured you'd want to start a new collection," Samba explained.
Limbo looked it over analytically. A genuine, grateful smile creased her lips. "I love it."
Poe rolled her eyes, though not without a sassy smirk. "Alright, save the lovey-dovey stuff for Rhapsody."
Limbo cleared her throat. "Right, anyway..." She looked at Samba hopefully. "I've been wanting to ask you, Samba... I know you wanna focus on your family and everything, but I'd love it if you wanted to continue being my assistant."
Samba quirked an eyebrow, puzzled. "Really? I figured you wouldn't need me around now that Poe's back."
Limbo and Poe exchanged confused glances. "Whaddaya mean? Poe never worked for me."
"She didn't? Oh. I just kinda figured with the way you always talk about her and how close you two are..." Samba looked to Poe. "So, what did you do before? Your job, I mean."
"I worked retail at the mall," Poe answered.
Samba blinked. "Huh. That's... a bit more mundane than I would've expected from somepony like you."
Poe shrugged. "Eh, you take what you can get. And it ain't all boring. An old dude slipped on a banana peel in the produce aisle once and broke his hip. So that was a fun day. Doubt that job's still available though. Gonna have to break out the classifieds at some point, I guess."
"You think of that all by yourself," Limbo deadpanned.
"You want me to rip off another leg?" Poe threatened.
Limbo ignored her, turning back to Samba. "So, you interested?"
Samba hesitated for a moment. "Uh, well, I was kinda looking forward to getting back to dancing at the pub. I've been feeling pretty reinvigorated lately, so I might actually have fun doing it for the first time in a while. Plus, Pira going to Canterlot will give me and Rhapsody some time to work on our relationship."
Limbo nodded understandingly, though not without some visual disappointment on her face. "Okay, I get it. But I'll definitely miss you around here."
That dejected look on Limbo's face did a good job of making her feel guilty. "Well, I guess if I have a day off from the pub, or if Rhapsody's at work, I can help out around here a little. Might be a nice change of pace every now and then."
Limbo perked up immediately. "Great! Cuz, listen, I've actually been thinking about names for my agency."
"Oh, uh, okay. What, you want my approval or something?"
"Yeah, of course. Okay, first one I thought of..." Limbo swept a hoof through the air. "Flesh and Bones Detective Agency. How's that sound?"
"Kind of a name is that?" Poe criticized.
"Yeah, I don't know," Samba agreed. "That name doesn't make any sense unless people know we're zombies."
"With the eyepatch and everything, people'll probably be expecting a pirate-themed agency," Poe snickered.
"If you're so smart, why don't you come up with a better name?" Limbo challenged with a scowl.
"Who said it needs a name? You been doin' fine without one so far, yeah?"
"It's called 'rebranding.'"
"Considering it didn't have a name before, wouldn't it just be 'branding'?" Samba corrected.
Limbo threw her head back with a groan. "Ugh, don't start with this. I enjoyed my week off from your nonsense. Don't ruin it. If you got any suggestions for a name, I'm all ears."
Samba mulled it over. "Hmm... What about... Bitter and Sweet? You know, bitter because you like coffee, and, uh..." She trailed off, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the suggestion.
"Sweet because of you?" Limbo smirked playfully. "Geez, Samba, didn't expect you to have such an ego."
"Now that I think about it, maybe it's not that fitting," Samba admitted; her face would've turned a tad red were she still capable of blushing.
"How about Beauty and the Beast?" Poe laughed.
Limbo narrowed her eyes grumpily. "If you're not gonna help, there's the door. And you can walk yourself into the harbor while you're at it."
"Well, I don't know exactly what kind of name you're looking for," said Samba.
"Alright, we're gonna have a brainstorming session for this," Limbo insisted as she headed for the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot. "We ain't leaving 'til we come up with something we can all agree on."
Limbo sat down at the table, and Samba and Poe reluctantly joined her to try and come up with a suitable name. This would turn out to be an arduous process and the discussion would end up continuing on and off for the next few years.
