> Kleptomania > by Divide > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter One: Like a Thief > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kleptomania Chapter One: Like a Thief My eyes shined when I finally laid eyes upon the mountainous pile of loot. With a grin that everybody else called 'greedy', but I called 'avaricious', I quietly snuck my way over to the massive stash that was full of gems, gold, and just about everything else that would fill my pocket with the cold, hard coins that was the currency of this world. And they called me crazy for even thinking about taking this job! I started stuffing the largest precious gems and the nicest golden jewellery into the reinforced bag that I carried over my shoulder. I felt like a reverse Santa Claus. You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch... I almost started whistling along with the song, but I caught myself before I revealed my position to the dragon that was currently stretching his wings outside the cave. A violent rumble jolted me out of my whimsy, causing me to lose my balance and fall into the treasure trove. Little known fact: gems and other valuable objects are not soft. I swore as I fell down, and grumbled as I righted myself. I checked myself for any injuries, wincing when I noticed that the sharp edge of something had cut me through my black shirt, deep enough to bleed, but not deep enough to be a serious injury. I realized that I had left my blood at the scene of a theft. My thoughts flickered wildly on how to remove the blood. Bleach? No, they didn't have that here. Fire? Could I burn this place down behind me? A quick look around reminded me that I was currently in a cave embedded deep within a mountain. Shit! Was I going to have to—? My frantic thoughts stopped in their tracks with a sudden realization. Smacking myself in the head, I silently chastised myself. What the hell am I thinking? They can't track my DNA here. I'm in a goddamn whole other world. Stupid! Stupid idiot! I've been here for how long? And I still forget that I'm not on Earth anymore? Feeling annoyed at my shortsightedness, I continued to grab the most valuable objects that I could. My thoughts drifted to what could have caused the tremor that knocked me over. I figured that the dragon must've gone for a quick flight or something, and as long as he didn't return in the next minute or two, I was golden. My nimble fingers found a solid gold bar. Oh yes, I was definitely golden. As I rummaged through the pile, I found a strange, smooth statue made of an unknown material. I subconsciously brought one hand to my chin as I studied the statue, stroking the two day beard underneath the balaclava I wore over my face. The ski-mask wasn't to hide my identity, as I was easy to spot, given that I was the only one of my kind here. I only wore it out of habit and nostalgia as it was one of the only things I still had left from my home. I turned the statue around in my hand, and noticed some faint, glowing inscriptions that wound throughout the strange effigy. It somewhat reminded me of my job on Earth: a museum heist. It wouldn't have looked out of place underneath a square of plexiglass. Being the consummate kleptomaniac that I was, I had a list of rules for the unknown quantities that my heists would inevitably uncover. Rule One: If it looked valuable, it probably was. Rule Two: Refer to rule one. Smiling to myself as I remembered the Rules, I merrily chucked the statue in with the rest of the loot I had acquired. I loved my job. I continued to fill up my swag bag, my gloved hands nimbly picking out the most valuable items of the bunch. By the time my bag was finally reaching its limit, I realized that I had actually made a sizeable dent into the dragon's hoard. Hah! Don't steal from a dragon, they said. It'll charbroil my pasty flank, they said! I tied the bag and hoisted it over my shoulder, glad that I paid the extra money to have a unicorn put a weight-reducing spell on it. The enchantment that had been wrought upon it reduced the weight of the contents to nearly one fifth of their original weight, which continued to please me to no end. Even with the enchantment however, my bag of loot was still somewhat heavy. Unfortunately, it was still extremely cumbersome, as the weight-reduction did nothing to decrease the actual matter that the objects took up. Confusing, but that was magic for you. With a smile that turned into a grimace when something sharp poked me in my spine, I tiptoed back to the hole in the cave that had been my entry point. I confidently lowered myself into the hole first. Piece of cake. I should do this more often. There had to be around ninety to a hundred housand bits worth of loot just in this bag alone! I pulled the bag in after me with my fingers crossed, praying that the bag would be able to fit, as I hadn't measured the diameter of the hole beforehand. "Oh yeah," I whispered when the bag fell in after me, its bulky form managing to fit by a margin of only a few centimetres. "That's the stuff." Note to self: measure the bloody hole next time! Wouldn't want to go through all that trouble and then have it get stuck, would we? I stifled a childish giggle. Getting stuck in the hole... Laughing with maniacal glee, I dragged the bag through the small tunnel that I had dug over several days in preparation for the heist. I had to work slowly and methodically, else the dragon would've caught on to my dastardly plan. The clinks and clanks of the treasure inside the bag were music to my ears as I hoisted it over my shoulder and jumped down the incline of the mountain, the thrill of the theft pumping my body full of adrenaline. "Kiss my ass, you fat flying lizard!" I yelled triumphantly as I slid down the side of the mountain, narrowly avoiding the brambles and trees that grew along the slope. I cackled with laughter, high on the thrill of the heist. Behind me, I heard the dragon let out a blood-curdling roar, a sound that chilled me to the bone, took away my sudden burst of energy, and caused me to freeze in place. Maybe he just— *ROAAAAAAAR* "Oh tits!" I screamed as the adrenaline my kleptomania provided me with was replaced by the adrenaline caused by pure, unadulterated fear. My legs started moving of their own accord, sprinting down the side of the mountain with the power of gravity on my side. This can't be happening! I'm going to wake up and this will be a bad dream! I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince: myself or the dragon that was definitely chasing me. *ROAAAAAAAR* The roar of the dragon came from almost directly above me, which sent another wave of primal fear through my body. I put on yet another burst of speed as I ran. I was going so fast that the vegetation was starting to blur around me, the sack of loot that kept jabbing into my back the only reminder that this wasn't a crazed, nightmarish fantasy. I directed myself into the thickest patch of greenery that I could, trying to lose the dragon that was right on my metaphorical tail. Crashing through the shrubs and flora, I kept running, the voice in the back of my head telling me not to slow down for anything. When I noticed that I had ran out of the patch of vegetation and was now running straight towards the edge of a cliff, the voice rescinded its earlier statement by telling me that I was allowed to slow down for cliffs. Taking my own advice, I abruptly stopped running and dug the heels of my shoes into the rocky, clay earth beneath my feet in an attempt to slow down. This had the unfortunate side effect of causing me to lose my already precarious balance and trip, making me fall ass-over-teakettle. As I flipped in mid-air, time seemed to slow and I had what felt like an hour of time to think. My thoughts went as follows. There's no way that this is happening. No freaking way. I'm back at the Institute, asleep in my cot, and this is all a bad dream. A roar shattered that illusion. Are you fucking kidding me?! Everything was going great! Why now, after the fact, is this stupid goddamn dragon chasing me?! He could've found me at any other time, but no! Can't a guy steal things for a living? Is that so bad? You know what, I'll trade you the loot for my life. Sound like a deal, fate? No response. Why...? Why me? What did I do to deserve—oh. Right. Well... at least I'll go out in a blaze of glory. Stupid dragon... I hit the ground face-first, with the bag crushing me further into the ground as it landed on top of my torso. I heard a sickening crunch as my vision filled with stars from the impact. Groaning, I opened one eye and almost had a heart attack when I saw nothing below me but the tops of various trees. "Gah!" I exclaimed as I scrambled backwards from the several hundred foot drop. With the hand that didn't currently have a death-grip on my loot bag, I quickly checked myself over for any breaks or sprains. I only had a couple of broken ribs and a broken toe. I wasn't sure which. "That was too close for comfort," I wheezed as I wiped the sweat of off my brow. My glove came away sticky with blood. Great. Add head wound and possible concussion to my ever-growing list of injuries. So this is why they called me nuts. Fence better have made nice with Silver; these wounds weren't going to heal themselves. I looked around, and to my infinite joy, saw that there was no dragon in sight. I nearly danced a little jig. In fact, I would have, had it not been for a large gust of wind and a streak of red emerging from the flat plateau in front of me. A billow of hot air breathed through the cloud of dust, dispersing it and ruining all thoughts of my success. The large, blood-red dragon that I had tried to outrun stood not ten metres away, its tree-trunk thick foreleg blocking off a goat path, which was my only chance of escape. I slowly craned my neck upwards, my eyes slowly going over the dragon's massive, scaled body. After an eternity, I finally managed to look at the overgrown reptile's eyes. They were pitch black, and they did not look amused. "Oh shit." The dragon's eyes glittered and seemed to say, 'Yep'. The winged beast looked up at the sky and opened its maw; a torrent of white flame came out, the air around it distorted from the intense heat of the flames. I knew that the lighter coloured the fire was, the hotter it burned, which meant I'd go from moist to extra crispy in a second. I swear that the dragon wore a sadistic grin on its face as it breathed in, preparing to bathe me in an inferno. I did the only thing that I could to escape becoming a charbroiled man-burger: I jumped backwards off of the cliff, twisting in midair as I fell. I felt an intense heat on my back, enough so that I could feel the blisters start to rise on my shoulders. Screaming in pain and exhilaration as I fell, I flailed myself in an attempt to direct myself towards the softest possible landing site: the top of a big, deciduous tree. The bag of loot was securely and frantically held tight to my chest. Of all the movies and cartoons that I had seen, it seemed to be the most plausible choice. I tried to convince myself that this wasn't insane. I mean, it had to be deciduous trees for a reason, right? I crashed into the tree at the speed of freefall. It wasn't as soft as I hoped it was. \\\\\ "There is no way, no godforsaken way that I'm doing that again!" I yelled at the grey earth pony in front of me. "Do you think I have a death wish?!" "No need to get so... emotional over it. I am just offering, since you were the only one who has come back alive from stealing a dragon's hoard. There is a lot of money to be made from dragons, comrade..." "I already said 'No', Fence. A thousand times no. I'd like to keep my skin smooth, not crispy, thank you very much," I replied. My shoulders ached where the blisters had been, but thanks to Silver, a unicorn on Fence's payroll, I was feeling pretty hunky-dory, considering the circumstances. Thank goodness for unicorn magic. Fence rolled his eyes. "You know, you did not have to take me up on the job. To be perfectly honest, I was mostly joking about it, anyway." "Yeah, well, have I ever been one to refuse a job? C'mon man, you should know me better than that by now." "I do know you well, my friend. Perhaps better than you know yourself." I rolled my eyes as he motioned towards the unopened and slightly-scorched bag that lay sprawled upon the massive metal sorting table. "Shall we?" he asked. Holding my bandaged head with one hand and motioning towards the loot with the other, I said, "Be my guest." Frowning, Fence said, "Technically, you're my guest. Unless, of course, you somehow managed to steal the entire Institution out from under me." I chuckled. Sometimes, the finer parts of Fence's English—or Equestrian, I suppose, even though the two are one and the same—left a lot to be desired. "It's a figure of speech where I come from, Fence, and I'm pretty sure it's one here too. For crying out loud, you spend more time in the city than I do." Fence laughed as well. "Da, that may be true, but tell me this: Who do you think is the one selling all of the... reciprocated goods that you and the others manage to procure?" I snorted and said, "It's all you, brother." Frowning again, Fence said, "But we are not bro—...oh, I see. Another figure of speech, da?" "Da, comrade," I said in my best imitation of a Russian accent. Fence's accent was eerily similar to Russian, even though he proclaimed to be from 'the great city of Stalliongrad.' I had filed away the accent, along with several other strange similarities to Earth, to simply being extremely coincidental. Fence and I made our way over to the table, with me carefully avoiding the bloodstains that dotted the floor. We had used the Institute as our headquarters for almost four months now, but I still haven't asked where the bloodstains came from. I wasn't sure that I wanted to know. "By Celestia... you were not joking when you said that you could not fit anything else in the bag," he said after pulling the string that kept the bag closed open with his teeth. I laughed, then winced when my ribs let out an angry protest. Magic was incredible, but it wasn't perfect: I'd have to heal the bruising on my own. "You'd better believe it." Fence raised an eyebrow. "More colloquialisms?" I nodded. Turning his attention back to the sack of treasure, he asked, "Can you empty it onto the table for me? Seeing as how I do not have your strange appendages..." I gave him a look that was not amused. "For the twenty-seventh and last time, they're called 'hands'!" Fence just grinned and nodded. I grabbed the back of the bag and pulled, shaking it as the contents started to spill out. It took longer than even I thought it would. Fence whistled. "Quite a haul, if I must say. Hurry up and take your pick. Shift and Cloak should be here soon and the longer you stand there, the longer it takes for us to get paid." I shivered, remembering the pegasus twins. There was something... off about them. My feelings about people were generally spot on, and ponies were no exception. "Are you sure about them, Fence? I'd much rather we go with somebody we know better, like Seeker." Fence raised an eyebrow and said, "I would rather do the same, but Shift and Cloak pay a lot better than Seeker does. I know you don't like them, but you are not the one having to deal with them: I am." And I was damn lucky at that. I didn't need to talk to them to know that they were creepy bastards. I sighed, keeping my thoughts to myself. "Fair enough," I replied as I started to scan over the stolen treasure trove. My eyes were drawn to a goblet made of gold but encrusted with so many diamonds that it looked like it was left outside on a particularly cold morning. My hand reached out to grab the goblet of its own accord, but stopped and changed course abruptly when I glimpsed the same strange statue from before—the one covered in glowing script—out of the corner of my eye. The intricate, gleaming carvings entranced me, enough so that I picked the sculpture up instead of the diamond goblet. I stared at the statue for several seconds, marveling in its beauty. "Why?" The question startled me out of my stupor. "Pardon? Why what?" "Why do you do... this?" He motioned towards the table. "If you were in it for the money, you would not have requested that we sell this to Seeker, nor would you have picked that statue over that diamond chalice." I stared at the statue, imagining how well it would go with all the other items that I had kept from the aftermath of my heists. I kept one thing from each and every job; a memento, of sorts. I could look at that one object and remember where it had come from and what had accompanied it. It was both my proof and my pudding. "I steal because it makes me happy, Fence. I thieve because it brings a smile to my face. I loot because it gives me a rush that nothing else in the world does." I turned to my employer with a grin on my face. "I'm a kleptomaniac, Fence. Stealing is my addiction, my lady in white. If I happen to bring in some money while I feed my addiction, then I guess that's fine too." The slate grey earth pony smiled in return. "Are all humans as strange as you, comrade?" "No." I looked back at the statue. "Most are even stranger." Fence opened his mouth to respond, but he stopped when a jangle of bells was heard. He looked at me seriously and said, "They are here. Go and rest. This should not take long." "Thank Silver for me next time I see her, yeah? By the time I wake up, she's always gone," I said as I walked towards the old, repurposed jail cell that I called home. "If anything, I should be the one leaving her alone in bed..." Fence rolled his eyes. "Very funny. I will tell Silver that the next time I see her. Now get going! Don't want the twins to spot you, nyet?" I shuddered involuntarily. "Wouldn't want that," I muttered under my breath. Speaking a little louder, I said, "I'm glad that I met you, Fence. Talk to you later." The earth pony nodded, his attention switching to where the buyers would come from. I made my way towards my cell, my mind calling back memories of the first day that I appeared in Equestria. A museum heist gone wrong, a flash of light, an intense, indescribable pain. Waking up on an unknown, dirty street in the middle of the night. Being kicked and abused by the first ponies that saw me, being called 'the most bucked-up diamond dog' that they'd ever seen. I shuddered as I remembered how I came to be in this strange, pony-filled land, the beat down, and the near mental breakdown I had soon after. Bloodied and dirtied and wondering if I had lost my mind, I crawled on my hands and knees along the streets of Manehattan until I found an alleyway to slip in to. It was there that I accidentally stumbled upon Fence, an immigrant that had recently moved there in an attempt to escape from the slums of Stalliongrad. He didn't know what I was, nor I him, but after talking for a few hours under the light of the moon, we both realized that we were kindred souls from different worlds. Fence didn't care that I was an alien, an extraterrestrial to Equestria, and I didn't care that he stole and traded stolen goods to eke out a living on the street. We formed a shaky, and to us then, temporary, alliance: I would steal things, and Fence would sell them to one of his numerous contacts. I blinked, knocking myself out of my reverie. It was amazing how far we'd come, in such a short time. We'd grown from a two-man team operating out of an abandoned alleyway to a full-fledged criminal organization that, in Manehattan's premier newspaper, Equestria Daily's own words, was the 'most elusive criminal enterprise in recent history.' I was damn proud of that fact, too. I was a one man crime spree up until a few months ago when we hired some new recruits. I felt a brief pang of loss upon remembering that I could never go back to where I once belonged, but after looking back at the statue held in my hand, I realized that Equestria was the place for me. I opened up the lock on the cell door with the key that I kept hidden on my person, and locked the door behind me. I proceeded to flop onto my bed, the cot eliciting a sproing sound, the statue still clenched tightly in my hand. My shoulders and back burned like I had a sunburn, my ribs ached, and the hundred small bruises from that damn deciduous tree made me groan long and slow into my pillow. Never again. Stealing from ponies was easy. Thieving from diamond dogs was more difficult, but still doable. Gryphons were a pain in the ass, mostly because the ones that lived in Equestria were paranoid as hell. Dragons? Screw that. I was a thief, not a miracle worker. I quit three years ago... but damn, I could use a cigarette right about now. Forcing myself upright, I pulled the duffel bag out from under my cot, wincing as my shoulders twinged from the effort. I opened up the bag and took a moment to revel in the feeling of pleasure I received from just looking at the fruits of my labour. Whole diamonds the size of a baseball, necklaces that wouldn't look out of place on the God-King Xerxes, and a crown inlaid with rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and just about every other conceivable gem were just a few of the things that I had kept. My precious... I wrapped the statue in a cloth and placed it among the other valuables, smiling as I did so. My eyes were drawn to the leather bag of bits that took up the majority of space in my bag. I knew exactly how much was in there, as I had counted it before I hiked over to that god-forsaken mountain. Two hundred and sixty-five thousand, nine hundred and five. Enough money to sustain me for the rest of my days in Equestria. When I first began my crime spree, my addiction was so easy to feed that I thought each home I visited was baited. Only later, when people started putting locks on their windows and spells on their doors did I start having even a semblance of difficulty. Even with these extra measures, I couldn't believe how easy it was to break in to peopl—... pony's homes. It's like they never expected someone with hands to steal from them... Sighing and putting my thoughts aside for now, I zipped my duffel bag back up and slid it under my bed. I laid down on the soft mattress, and tried to fall asleep. The same feeling of unease that I felt when Fence mentioned Cloak and Shift kept coming back, against all of my attempts to dispel the feeling. Something was wrong, and I could feel it. My tired body eventually silence my paranoia, and I fell asleep dreaming of Earth, something that hadn't happened in what seemed like forever. > Chapter Two: Stuck in the Middle With You > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kleptomania Chapter Two: Stuck in the Middle With You I awoke to the sound of a hoof rapping on my cell door. I could tell that it was a hoof by the specific clonking noise it made. Hooves on Equestrian ponies were the strangest things: they were hard enough to protect the owner from the roughest surfaces, yet the underside was soft enough that they felt like silk when you touched them. Another anomaly that I have observed first hand—hah!—is their ability to manipulate hooves with enough precision to pick up simple objects. Quite frankly, it shouldn't be possible. Then again, 'shouldn't be possible' aptly describes nearly everything that's happened to me. I clambered out of my bed, kicking off my clingy blanket when it decided that it wanted to come see who woke me up, too. I stumbled over to the cell door and pulled the sheets that I used as blinds aside, one hand attempting to shade my eyes from the bright kerosene lamp that seemed to be hovering just outside. "Oh, so you are still alive!" said a cheerful, feminine voice. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. The pony in question was Umbra, my self-proclaimed protégé. Ever since our paths crossed, she'd taken up an almost godlike reverence towards me. More specifically, towards my abilities. And while she stroked my ego a good amount, teaching her the basics from the ground up hadn't been the highest on my to-do list. She was a natural thief, though. Persistent as all hell too. Getting on her bad side was even lower on my list. "It'll take more than an angry dragon to bring me down," I yawned half-heartedly, not really feeling the whole 'friendly banter' thing. I wasn't a morning person. Was it even morning? I consulted my watch, an eighteen-karat authentic Rolex. According to my timepiece, it was half-past one. Whether that was in the afternoon or the morning remained to be seen. "What's got your... knickers in a bunch? Is that the right way to say it?" she asked. That earned a chuckle from me. Slowly but surely, my colloquialisms were catching on and spreading throughout our little society. "Yeah, that's right," I replied, blinking repeatedly in a vain attempt to regain my night vision faster. "And why do you think I'm grumpy?" "Probably 'cause I woke up your pasty flank at one in the morning," Umbra said. I groaned. "Don't give me that! You've woke me up plenty of times in the middle of the night—now I finally get to return the favour!" I suppose it was only fair. After all, I had been a bit of a prick when it came to Umbra's sleep schedule. Three in the morning was the best time for a pillaging jaunt. Master thieves also weren't allowed to get ten hours of beauty sleep. "Fair enough, padawan," I relented. I saw her flickering shadow tilt its head in confusion. "'Padawan?'" "Trainee. Recruit. Apprentice." I put specific emphasis on the last word. She huffed. "Not for much longer, if I have anything to say about it!" Utilizing the brief pause in our conversation, I looked down and realized that I was wearing only my boxers. So that was where that breeze was coming from. Evidently, I'd woken up sometime and removed my outer apparel, since I didn't remember undressing before I collapsed into bed. "So... why am I standing here in my underwear talking to you when I could be sleeping?" I asked seriously. "Because you look all cute and smooth without your clothes on?" I glared at her. I must've looked extremely un-amused, because she quickly answered my question without joking. "Well... remember that factory down on the waterfront?" Umbra rubbed her foreleg with a hoof. I nodded, wondering where she was going with this. "What about it?" "Well... I kinda-sorta... need your help." I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And why is that? If I remember correctly, your brother already took care of the planning." I tried to look around the blinding glare of the dancing flames. "What, did you lose the map? And for crying out loud, put the bloody lamp down, would you?" The kerosene lamp bobbed and lowered to the ground. Slowly but surely, I began to make out the unicorn in front of me as my eyes adjusted. She was sitting on her haunches a few feet outside my cell door, cat-eye yellow eyes looking up at me, then flashing downward when I made eye contact. "Well..." "Quit saying well!" Umbra winced like I'd slapped her. I meant to apologize, but she didn't give me the chance. "Yeah, Lumis scouted ahead and found me a route to take. An old, unused pipe branches off from the main sewers and goes almost directly underneath the factory floor. They're doing some sort of routine maintenance on the boilers, too. Should only be a few engineers and maybe a single watchpony." She sighed. "But that's not the part I need help with. In the Headmaster's office, where all the goods are kept, there's some sort of magical pacification resonation barrier that they just finished installing. I can't get past it." I blinked. Several times. "'Magical pacific... reso-what barrier?'" Umbra placed a hoof over her face and slowly dragged it downwards. "Magical pacification resonation barrier!" she exclaimed. My blank stare must've been worth a thousand words, because she simplified it for my poor, tired, un-caffeinated brain. "Magic users can't cross it," she stated, "and it's placed along the only entranceway into the Headmaster's office." Well, sheesh! Why didn't she just say so in the first place? "So you want me to come with and filch the stash 'cause I don't have any magic?" I deduced brilliantly, the gears in my head slowly churning and dispersing the dust that had accumulated over however many hours I had actually slept. I wasn't sure what time I had actually arrived back in the Institute. Umbra cocked her head. "Filch?" she questioned. "Steal." After thinking for a moment, she nodded. Scratching the back of my neck, I glanced behind me at the warm, cozy, and oh-so-welcoming cot. "If you need someone without magic, why don't you ask an earth pony? Mandy and Cutter are around, aren't they?" Umbra shook her head, her short grey mane swaying with and covering one eye. She habitually brushed it aside and said, "Bolt's busy cracking a safe, and Mandy Orange is off visiting his relatives. Mandy said that they came all the way over from some little town by Canterlot, and he couldn't brush it off." Ugh. I closed my eyes for a moment, composing myself for what was to come. "Alright," I sighed. "I'll do it. I'll do all the heavy lifting while you sit back and watch. You'd better take notes." "Yes!" I swear, the squeal that came out of Umbra's mouth sounded like a schoolgirl getting asked on her first date. "Yesyesyes! Thankyouthankyouthankyou—" "Yeah, yeah, you're welcome and all that jazz. Now give me some damn privacy, would you?" I saw a mischievous glint appear in her eyes. "Why can't I stay and watch?" she teased. "Because this is national security stuff. Top secret," I quickly replied while shutting the blinds, leaving only Umbra's silhouette and the cell bars. "Now scram before I change my mind!" Cackling softly, Umbra's form dashed away, taking the light with her, and leaving me in the dark once more. I debated crawling back into bed based on principle alone, but reluctantly dissuaded myself after I realized that would get me nothing but a heckling when I woke up. Besides, chatting had made me awake and alert, for the most part, and sleep never came quickly if I was roused in the middle of it. Letting a soft sigh escape my lips, I began rummaging for my thieving clothes. \\\\\ We left the Institute, Umbra and I, through perhaps one of the most clichéd exits that an organization such as ours would possess: an old manhole cover that leads to an abandoned alleyway on one Manehattan's fringe streets. I thought that it had been a joke originally, but according to the ponies, it was one of the most clever and ingenious ways to enter and exit. Funny how some things work. The Institute, however, was no joke. Originally used as an underground prison for the worst of the worst, the Institute was never officially acknowledged by the princesses, nor even by the city. Every question directed towards it by curious townspeople who swore that they heard sounds coming from beneath the road were deflected or downright ignored. Even investigative journalists, ponies who dug up information for a living, couldn't declare whether the Institute existed or not. Hell, they couldn't even find a name. And thusly, the legend of the Institute was born. The place where naughty foals, cheating husbands, and petty thieves went in, but never came out. I didn't think it was that terrifying, and I lived in it. I mean, sure, there were a few red stains here and there that wouldn't come out, along with some age-old torture equipment that gave it a very medieval feel— On second thought... Regardless of how spooky the place actually was, it was home, and the myths surrounding it actively prevented any curious ponies from digging their noses into places they shouldn't. I gently slid aside the manhole—there was no way in hell that I was calling it a 'stallion-hole'—and poked my balaclava-covered head out first to make sure that no ponies were scuttling around the secret exit. When I deduced that the coast was clear, I agilely clambered up the rest of the way, Umbra following in my wake. The ladder steps leading down were much wider and far less steep than the human variety, allowing all types of ponies to use them. To me, it felt like walking up stairs designed for the elderly. When my partner-in-crime had climbed up and out, I slid the cover pack into place, eliciting only a small noise of protest as it scraped along the cobblestone. "Lead the way," I whispered. Umbra nodded and began a slow jog along and out of the alleyway, her hooves muffled with black fabric. I followed her from a respectful distance away—close, but not too close. It made it more difficult for someone to tail us. We sneaked along the storefronts, most of them abandoned with their doors and window boarded up. Although we stuck to the shadows and hid from every passerby—most were drunkards stumbling around, since no respectable pony would be out at this time—we still made good time, arriving at the waterfront factory within twenty minutes of leaving. I took a second to observe the factory. It was a large, rectangular, grey building with no windows and seemed to only have a single entrance. Metal support struts embraced each corner of the concrete mass, and all around the factory laid a spectrum of different coloured shipping crates. It was a miracle of modern magic and engineering, and under the light of day, roiling black smog would rise from the solitary smokestack. I sighed. While I wasn't one to warrant the destruction of progress, I wouldn't be disappointed if some gang of riotous ruffians decided to sabotage the facility: Equestria could use a few more years of pollution-free air. "Are you just going to stand there, or are we going to do this?" asked Umbra, breaking me out of my reverie. Grinning wryly, I responded, "That's what my first girlfriend said." Now it was her turn to give me the evil eye. "I'm still waiting on you," I reminded her. "I didn't see your brother's outline." She said something that was hardly ladylike—err, marelike—in return, and then continued on the way, with me shadowing her. We slid down an old and disused breakwater, and carefully inched our way along a small concrete pad that jutted out of the side; Umbra was my only guide, and a combination of moonlight and flickering streetlamps was our only source of light. I was forced to duck my head and scrunch my shoulders: if I stood straight up, my covered cranium would be visible to any ponies that decided to look down from the sidewalk. We traveled thusly for much longer than I had anticipated, enough so that I was breaking a sweat, hunched over with my muscles tensed for as long I was. When we finally came to the old entrance pipe, I felt like I could've wrung my balaclava out, it was so drenched. "Ladies first?" I panted. Umbra rolled her eyes and climbed into the hole. Everything seemed to be going splendidly—until I heard a shriek of surprise followed by a strained grunt. "What's wrong?" "I think..." Umbra's voice seemed distant and echo-y, even thought she was merely a few feet in. Her colouring made it so that I could barely make out her form amongst the dark of the pipe. I heard her gulp nervously. "I think I'm stuck. " > Chapter Three: Problem Solving > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kleptomania Chapter Three: Problem Solving "Oh, for crying out loud—please tell me you're pulling my leg." "Uh... no, I'm pretty sure I'm stuck," she feebly replied. She tried to wiggle her way free, but if anything, I think that wedged herself further in. "Can you... can you give me a push?" "Give me a second." I carefully placed my bag in a spot where it wouldn't fall and crawled halfway into the pipe before placing my hands flat against Umbra's back hooves. "Ready?" I asked. "H-Hurry up!" she giggled. "My hooves are tick—hah!—ticklish!" Taking a deep breath, I braced my feet against the concrete and pushed with all of my might. Instead of forcing her through whatever was holding her in place, pushing on Umbra's hooves seemed to only make her laugh from being tickled and grunt from the force of the push. I stopped when a yip of pain from Umbra made me realize it wasn't working. "How the hell did you manage this?" I asked, panting from the combination of crouch-shuffling along the breakwater and heaving against Umbra's hooves. Umbra plaintively struggled against her placement in the pipe before going slack. "I think the pipe gets skinnier as it goes," she sighed, "but it looks like it opens up more at the bend where the pipe goes down." She paused for a moment before asking, "Do you trust me?" I hesitated, unsure of where Umbra was going with this. "What are you planning, Umbra?" "Do you trust me?" she repeated. I scratched the back of my neck through my black, cotton head covering. I had a bad feeling about this... "I guess...?" Umbra gulped, and I saw her tail twitch in what I assumed was nervousness. Hey, don't give me that! Where else was I supposed to be looking? "You could... umm... I mean, it wouldn't be that weird, right?" She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than me. "Umbra?" I asked cautiously. "What—exactly—wouldn't be that weird?" I saw her tense. "Y-You could... push... my..." she trailed off. I almost shouted before realizing where we were. Instead, I whispered harshly, "Push your what?! For Christ's sake, kid, we're burning moonlight—" "I'm not a kid!" "To me you are." She harrumphed, and I pinched my nose between a thumb and forefinger. I really didn't want to deal with this right now. Why was a simple robbery proving to be this difficult? "Please," I pleaded, "for the love of whatever deities will have me, tell me what you want me to do!" Gone was the sudden burst of defensiveness; it was replaced by the meek tone that Umbra had adopted since she got stuck. Taking a deep breath, she spewed, almost too fast for me to follow, "You can push on my flanks to get me unstuck!" "..." I am rarely left without words, but that statement shut me up immediately. I mean, how the hell was I supposed to respond that? My silence must've spoken more volumes than I had originally anticipated, because Umbra was quick to justify her—rather strange, to be honest—plan to extricate herself from the pipe. "Look, I know it's probably very uncomfortable for you—" I scoffed. "Bit of an understatement, that." I could almost feel her glare. "—but I. Don't. Want. To. Be. Stuck. Here. Anymore!" Umbra punctuated each sentence with the clonk of a hoof hitting the metal pipe. "You wouldn't happen to be claustrophobic, would you?" I asked, suddenly very concerned. "No. I don't know. Maybe?" Her tail swished erratically. "I just... really don't like not being able to move, okay? Please?" Her tone was pleading, and I could imagine her puppy-dog eyes, all wide and teary and big— Goddammit. As a last ditch attempt to get out of the situation before it got weird, I said, "But you have magic! Can't you just... I don't know, poof yourself outta the pipe?" Umbra laughed sharply, and the echo made it sound more like a strangled cackle. "I don't know where you got your information, but teleporting is hard! I'll be lucky if I ever manage to do it—even a few feet would take so much energy that I'd probably pass out. Not to mention you have to know where you're destination is." I wrung my hands together and eyed the dark grey flank, not particularly amused at where my graspers would soon find themselves. At least I was wearing gloves. And I guess there were worse things to push. Defeated and dejected, I muttered, "Let's get this over with." Umbra remained silent, but her body looked as tense as a lamb heading off to the slaughter. I grabbed my bag and slung it over a shoulder as I got into position. My shoes, nice leather ones with padded bottoms—and the only article of clothing aside from my balaclava and boxers that originated from Earth—braced the sides of the breakwater while my hands gingerly reached out to encompass Umbra's flanks. When I made contact, a shiver ran down Umbra's hindquarters, but all I could think of was how... squishy she was. I mean, sure, it was probably a solid two years since I'd touched a female's back end, but I was certain they hadn't been that malleable. ...On second thought, the species difference might have something to do with that. Go figure. After the initial shock and subsequent realization were behind me, I started to feel wrong. Just... wrong. I didn't know how old Umbra was. It was impolite to ask a female her age; that code of chivalry carried over between worlds. From what I understood from listening in the shadows of the Institute, however, she was still considered young by pony standards. I wasn't a young buck anymore, pardon the pun, and Umbra was like a daughter to me—a four-legged, non blood-related, different species daughter, but still. I'd always imagined that the only people I'd teach my craft to would be my kids, and Umbra had filled that gap, somewhat. And, lo and behold, my friend of nearly eight months and daughter figure was stuck in an extremely compromising position, one that I was free to exploit, if I so chose. Obviously, I wouldn't. In fact, I couldn't. It was against my morals, my code of ethics. Call it hypocritical coming from a career thief; I don't care. Sexual offenders were the lowest of the low, and I wouldn't hesitate to knock one's block off, given the chance. God, this was probably the most awkward thing I'd ever had to do, and I once had to hide in a women's locker room, right as a group came in to change. Don't ask. I gave my head a quick shake, trying to dispel my niggling thoughts and focus on the task at hand. It was only awkward if I made it awkward, right? If I didn't think that putting my hands there was wrong in this situation, then—wait, why was I trying to justify this?! It was wrong no matter what! I glanced detachedly at my hands on Umbra's backside. If she were a human, not going to lie, I might've even enjoyed the sensation. As it was, I felt like I was committing some sort of crime—and not good one. Despite solid reasoning and good intentions, however, not doing what she had asked me to do wasn't an option. I decided to get it over with as quickly as possible. "On the count of three, I'm going to push, okay?" I said, trying to sound soothing. I don't think it worked. "O-Okay," Umbra replied. I felt another shiver run through her body. "Just... hurry up, alright?" My opinion exactly. "One." "Two." "Three!" I pushed as hard as I could without hurting Umbra, glad that my shoes were well-gripped: had they not been, I might've slipped and, God forbid, accidentally head butted her—literally. Without warning, not even a sound akin to a cork being popped, Umbra was dislodged from her precarious position. She barely had time to let out a yelp before she was forced along the unused pipe by the force of my push and her own momentum. Where was I, one might ask. Why, I followed suit, of course. Whereas Umbra's descent was markedly pleasant—she didn't ram her head or her horn against the metal curvature—mine was not. I wasn't gangly, but I felt like a stick insect as my limbs were twisted this way and that following the unicorn's eviction. I ended up falling along the downward section of the pipe upside down while simultaneously kissing my feet. I landed back-first on a surprisingly comfortable surface—it was soft and warm, unlike the wet, hard stone that I was expecting. I wasn't sure what that rough exhalation-like noise was, though— "Get your bony flank off of me!" Ah. So that's why it was soft. "Sorry." Obeying Umbra's wishes, I removed myself from her back—what I hoped was her back, anyway. I stood, staggering slightly, and tried to pierce the darkness around us. I couldn't see a damn thing that wasn't a foot away. "Umbra?" I asked. "You alright?" I felt a small breeze on my legs as she stood up, and winced when she cricked her neck from side to side. I always detested that habit, along with the cracking of fingers. Living things shouldn't make those kinds of noises. "Yeah, I'm fine. Mostly." "Mostly?" "I got a nasty headache now, thanks to you, and now my rear feels like I spent all night at one of Vinyl Scratch's parties, also thanks to you." I made to say something, but my words died in my throat and came out as an unintelligible gurgle that could've meant anything. Shaking my head and trying to dispel the mental image that crawled its way into my sightless vision, I patted my pockets, looking for the most useful tool in a situation like this. Umbra took notice of the rustling of fabric. "Whatcha doing? Should I conjure up a light for us?" I responded by clicking on the light-giving device that fit neatly in the palm of my hand. It lit up the tunnel, showing me a wincing unicorn, damp cobblestone, and various stains that I had no intention of stepping anywhere near. Who needed magic when you had a torch? "Point that thing somewhere else, would you?" Umbra asked. Smiling softly from the irony of the situation, I complied, aiming it at the ceiling just in time to avoid a droplet of unknown liquid. "What is that thing? Where'd you get it?" "It's a torch. And it came with me when I ended up here." "Torch? That's not a torch!" "Yes, it is! Look here." I stepped closer, and brought the torch down to Umbra's head height. I traced a finger below the all-caps word 'TORCH,' written on the underside, right next to 'MADE IN ENGLAND.' "I can't read that. It's too dark." "Well it says torch!" "A torch is something that you light on fire to use as a light source. That is most definitely not a torch." Bloody ponies. I raised my hands in the air, acquiescing. "How 'bout we call it a flashlight?" "Flashlight?" "Yeah. Flashlight." "But I thought it was a torch!" It's a good thing the light-producing device was made of tough plastic. "Call it a flashlight and be done with it," I sighed. To myself, I muttered, "Bloody American ponies..." "What was that?" "Nothing." Umbra eyed me warily, but decided not to prod. Glancing around, she said, "We should probably get our flanks in gear: Work at the factory doesn't start 'till around seven, but it's better to be safe than sorry." Better to be safe than sorry, indeed. I shined my flashlight around—grumble, grumble—and found that there was only one way to go: further down the tunnel. I adjusted my bag, and began walking. "Umm... about what happened back there..." I stopped and turned my head. The silence was palpable while I waited for her to continue. "What I want to say is: Thanks for not making it any weirder than it had to be." "Don't mention it." "No, seriously. If you hadn't come along, I'd have been stuck in that pipe for Celestia-knows how long. And not to mention how awkward it would have been if somepony else was here instead. You were... surprisingly cool about the whole—" she rotated her hoof, "—thing. So yeah, thanks, and now can we, uhh... How about we pretend that never happened? That would probably be best, right?" I looked at Umbra, and I mean really looked at her. Her eyes were downcast, and she had resumed rubbing a foreleg with the other hoof, one of her nervous ticks. I wasn't sure, but I thought I saw tinges of faint red on her cheek before she turned away from my glance. I realized that, for all her bluntness and joking statements, she was still just as embarrassed, if not more so, as me about the whole being-stuck-in-a-pipe-with-my-rear-facing-out situation. Her being embarrassed about that? Perish the thought. "Pretend that what never happened?" I asked, breaking the new silence that had begun to form. She seemed confused. "What?" "Exactly. Nothing happened, so there's nothing to forget." I thought I saw a sparkle in her eyes, but when I blinked and looked again, they were clear. And smiling. "You're alright. You know that?" "What?" I asked. "I didn't do anything—" Umbra punched—hoofed?—me lightly on my thigh, but her eyes were still smiling. "Come on," I said. "This thing doesn't last forever, and I'd rather not be stuck in the dark. Let's go." Umbra and I continued down the tunnel, discussing how the rest of our infiltration process should go. > Chapter Four: When Push Comes to Shove > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kleptomania Chapter Four: When Push Comes to Shove After Umbra and I had traversed a good amount of distance, the tunnel abruptly ended. I shined my torch upwards then clicked it off and put it away. Sure enough, there was a rusted, circular grate that was embedded in the factory floor. Beams of moonlight shined down from the skylights, illuminating the dust particles that floated freely. Apparently, the grate's only use was to drain the facility in case of flooding—and it was our ticket inside. Had I been a cat burglar, the skylights would've provided ample opportunities for a stealthy approach. However, I learned long ago that scaling buildings was definitely not my forte—when you fall, you fall hard. I'd much rather go underneath something to gain entrance rather than climb above it. "How are we supposed to get up that?" I grinned underneath my mask. "Think about who you're with." With only the light of the moon and the surreptitious sliding of metal-on-concrete betraying our position, I climbed up the circular pipe, using my feet and back as bracers while shimmying my way up. I crawled out and made sure the coast was clear before unclasping a section of rope from my belt. "Well then," Umbra commented from beneath me, her voice echoing slightly. She looked displeased at how easily I managed. "You're making me look bad." "Oh, hush." I quickly knotted a loop big enough for Umbra to fit her front hooves through, then tossed that end of the rope down the pipe. "If it makes you feel any better, there's nobody around, which means your secret's safe with me." Since she was balancing on two legs to grab onto the dangling rope, Umbra nearly fell over onto her ten-ply rear, but she thankfully managed to fit her cumbersome hooves into the provided loop. "You good?" I asked. "Just peachy," was the response. "I feel like a marionette. Hurry up!" I resisted the urge to move her forelegs up and down like a puppet master. It was tough, but I managed. Soberly, I began pulling the rope hand-over-hand. Umbra may have only been waist high, but that didn't mean she was light, and I also had to fight gravity. My shoulders were burning before she was even half way up, but I managed to pull her up before my grip accidentally loosened. As I sat there, chest heaving, the only thing I really wanted to do was crawl back into bed and sleep off my injuries. For some reason, I was missing the normal burst of energy that surreptitious robbery gave me. The grate took on a translucent silver sheen as Umbra magically placed it back over the entrance to the pipe. Smart girl: always cover your tracks, especially if you don't know how long you were going to take. Something clicked inside my head and made me realize why I wasn't feeling up to par. "How would you have gotten up here if I wasn't around?" I asked between breaths. "Even if you got the grate off... could you have pulled yourself up with magic?" Umbra scratched the back of her head with a hoof. "Uh... probably not." I idly scratched my chin. "Would an earth pony or Pegasus have helped in any way?" She peered down through the grate before answering. "Cutter might have been able to hoist me up the same way you did, but he'd be stuck down there, and he would need to be up here to get past the magical pacification resonation barrier. Ace is probably strong enough to push the grate while flying, but he couldn't get past the barrier either." I frowned. "Why's that?" "Every pegasus has a little bit of magic inside them," Umbra explained with a smile. I could tell she was enjoying being the one with information. "It helps them fly and it's why they can walk on clouds. The fastest Pegasi are the ones with the most magic. Almost all of them have enough of it for the pacifier to repel them." Huh. You learn something every day... "So let me get this straight: if you brought anyone other than me, this grate would've stopped you dead?" Umbra's eyes unfocused for a second before looking into mine. "Yeah, pretty much. Good thing Cutter was busy, I guess." Suspicion was tugging at me. "Your brother is normally thorough as hell with all of his damn details. One time, he gave me the blueprint to an apartment complex that was more detailed and accurate than the one I pinched from the architect. I don't get it. This is downright sloppy." Umbra was staring at the ground, deep in thought. "When did you learn about the magic stopping... thingamajig?" "Right before I woke you up. Lumis said he had just found out from one of his sources." The gears in my head were slowly turning. "'Just found out'? He plans everything weeks in advance." I pondered the dilemma for a few seconds. "Does he talk about any of his sources? Do you know any of them?" Umbra shook her head. "Does anybody know?" She shook her head again. I was starting to get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Did he tell you specifically to ask me for help?" "No... but... I mean, who else was I gonna ask? Cutter was busy with a safe, Mandy's visiting family. That left you." I held my head with one hand as the clockwork in my noggin began to coalesce into a dreadful realization. "I think... I think we've been set up, Umbra." "What?! How?!" she whispered loudly. I stood up and slowly did a full three hundred and sixty degree spin. We were in the exact centre of the factory, the floor slightly tapered towards the pipe we climbed out of. A massive boiler of some sort sat idle against the north wall. There was a series of conveyor belts with multiple machines for stamping, pressing, heating, cooling, and who-knew-what-else spaced intermittently along the east and west sides. Each machine was connected to the boiler by a metal pipe wide enough to fit my head into. The south side had a large bay door, probably the main entrance. Everything was a shade of grey in the moonlight. It was eerily quiet. "You said there was supposed to be engineers working on something and possibly a watchman accompanying them." I motioned with my hands to the silent, static equipment around me. "There's nobody here." "They could be... on break?" Umbra supplied lamely. I could hear the apprehension in her voice. I looked up, thankful for the light filtering down from the nearly full moon. A catwalk—ponywalk?—some fifty feet above the ground and made of wood went along the whole inside of the building. There was a staircase leading up to it on both sides. At the south end, above the main entrance, the catwalk lead to some sort of enclosed room that was almost assuredly the Headmaster's office. "If something's too easy, you're doing it wrong or you're missing something," I muttered to myself. I turned to Umbra. Go up the left stairs. I'll take the right. Be as quiet as you can, and if anything happens, get out as quickly as possible, and whatever you do, don't go back to the Institute." She nodded, and we made our way in opposite directions. I was expecting a siren to begin wailing with every step I took, but the only sound a heard was the soft creaking of the wood under my feet. We met up in front of the door of the suspended office after what felt like an eternity. "There isn't even a lock on it," Umbra whispered. I twisted the handle and gently pushed the door, letting it slowly swing open. It was indeed an office, complete with a large desk, a comfortable looking high-backed chair, filing cabinets, and stacks of paper neatly organized, if haphazardly placed. A large picture hung behind the chair, a landscape of the Manehattan coast on a summer day. I crept in, still expecting an alarm of some sort. There were none. The room was exactly what it should have been: an administrative office space used for keeping track of merchandise, shipments, and personnel. Umbra poked her head in and looked around. She stepped inside, and her expression soured. "There's no barrier in here. I've only seen one, but I know they're big, noisy, and impossible to miss." I dropped all pretenses of stealth and began searching every nook and cranny for a hidden cache or veiled safe, as there was not a single thing out in the open that screamed, 'I'm valuable'. I checked every drawer of the desk and even the floorboards. As I was taking the picture frame off, Umbra spoke up again. "Robert... I think you're right. I think we're wasting our time." Hearing my name, I stopped abruptly. Only a few members of the crew knew my birth name: Fence, Umbra, and Silver, to be exact. The others referred to me mostly as 'Hands' when in my presence or indirectly as 'the tall one', 'night prowler', or my personal favourite, 'Burgles'. I put the portrait back on the wall, but not before checking behind it to make sure. Once a thief, always a thief. "For the record, I didn't want to be right," I said solemnly. "I really didn't." I checked my watch. It was just past the witching hour, about five minutes after three in the morning. A lot could have happened in the two hours we had been gone. I walked out of the office with Umbra following in my wake. I shut the door without bothering to be quiet. "So, uh... what do we do now?" she asked. "Do we go back the way we came, or..?" I snorted. "Was that the original exit plan? A return trip through the piping and a shimmy up the spout?" She made a noise halfway between a grumble and a sigh. "If you want to spend a couple hours struggling just to get your flank marooned again, by all means, go for it." Umbra's dark face gained a hint of red. "I think there's a much easier way out," I said as I noticed one of the nearby skylights had a latch, probably for ventilation. I popped it opened with a click, causing it to swing outward, and then poked my head out and looked down. "Much, much easier." We were about fifteen meters from the surface, and that surface was the ocean. Glittering waves rose and fell slowly and steadily. The jump wouldn't kill us, but hypothermia might, as it was a decent swim back to the breakwater. "Alright, maybe faster would be a better word," I muttered. "Wetter and colder, too." I felt Umbra's presence beside me as she stuck her head out the window. "This'll work," she murmured. "This will definitely work. You trust me, right?" Her yellow eyes sparkled with mischief. I gulped. "Trust is a strong word, you know..." Umbra closed her eyes and frowned in concentration. Her horn began to give off a silver radiance. I felt a tingling sensation over my entire body, almost like somebody had washed my clothes with menthol. I looked down and saw the aura of Umbra's magic coating me entirely, and when I looked up I noticed it had enveloped her, too. "Uh... why are we glowing?" She opened her eyes, though they were focused on the distance. "Waterproofing spell. Hard to keep going. Jump when I say go." Oh boy. Magic users could pull off some crazy stunts, but I knew Umbra wasn't the most powerful or accurate unicorn around. I hoped it didn't misfire spectacularly and make us fall through the water like it was air. Being buried at sea was not the way I wanted to vamoose. "... Alright." I crouched on the sill and made sure all of my possessions were securely fastened. "Go!" I jumped and did my best not to flail wildly. I hit the water feet first faster than I expected, and heard another splash that had to be Umbra. Kicking and paddling with my hands, I swam up and broke the surface before taking a breath, not wanting to test if I could breathe underwater. The spell seemed to be working; I felt no moisture on my body that wasn't my own, though I could still feel the coldness of the ocean around me. Thankfully, I was still buoyant. When I spotted Umbra, she was already several meters ahead of me, dog-paddling—pony-paddling?—towards the shore. I had a mean breast-stroke, and within a few seconds I had caught up to her. She was huffing and puffing like a train engine. I had no idea how much energy or concentration the waterproof spell took from her, so I put an arm around her midsection and helped her along until we arrived at the jetty. Thankfully, the designers were considerate and had placed a series of ladders along the edge of the barrier. The breakwater was quite popular during the tourist season, and distracted ponies weren't the most sure-footed of creatures. As soon as we were both out of the ocean, Umbra released the spell and collapsed onto the concrete, panting. I sat down beside her, a lot drier than I should have been. "That was impressive," I stated. "Remind me to never bet against magic." "Th.... Thanks." As I waited for Umbra to regain her stamina, I pondered our situation. Only one thing was certain: we couldn't go back to the Institute, not until we had information or an infiltration plan. I had no safehouse to lay low in and no money on my person. I took my balaclava off. The moist, salty air made my scalp and unshaven face tingle. There wasn't much to do besides bide time, and there was only one other place I knew of that accepted me and my ilk. Frosty's Tavern. "Hey Umbra, feel like grabbing a drink?"