The Wanderer's Wife

Chapter Eight

The first thing that Rocky felt against her grimy coat was the gravelly floor of her cell, the shards of stone pricking her back, making her roll onto her side. It was almost like every other time she had fallen asleep on a digging job, the other incidents of her napping on shovelled piles of dirt being rudely awakened by the cry of the foreman, and first she counted herself lucky that her name was not shrieked in a piercing howl by her boss. Her eyes slowly blinked open with a yawn as she smacked her cracked lips, dried from the dusty earth.

Then she remembered. As quickly as a heartbeat, she remembered everything. At first she could not believe what had happened, a creeping dread building within her as she stood in the middle of her cell. She had told Pebbles that everything was fine when the train had stopped suddenly. She had given her a comforting hug when the gnarled shadows moved past the windows. She had looked with the same horror when the feathered beast threw open the door, reaching out with its twisted claw and pulling them towards its menacing, bloody red eyes. She could remember it all, all except for everything after the hulking bird-like creature roared at her, and the back of her head throbbed as she tried to recall what happened.

Where am I? she thought as she rubbed the back of her head, twitching when she encountered a painful lump. She gave her room a look; the walls were damp and dripping with murky dew, the stink of decaying soil hung in the air and lingered in her nostrils, and only a flicker of dim orange light came into the cell from outside the splintered, wooden door that was reinforced with rusting iron, through a tiny window covered by a grate with irregular holes. The bare walls were roughly hewn from the bedrock in a rough circle that was big enough to fit at least twelve other ponies in and there was nothing else, save for one thing that made Rocky flinch: a straw bed, a snoring unicorn of crimson coat curled up on it, his face turned to the wall.

He seemed totally at peace, as if he had not slept for days or weeks. Rocky decided against giving him a gentle prod for the time being to let him rest, but other than the quiet drips and the sounds of rest from her cellmate, silence and unease thickened in the stale air. It was just him and her.

A sudden flash of panic overcame her, the train cabin appearing in her mind again. There was the screaming. Her daughter was screaming as she was pulled from the train by the diamond dogs, tears rolling down her cheeks as Rocky tried to defend her. Everything was a blur afterwards, including where her daughter was. She rushed to the door of her cell, scrambling to the tips of her hind hooves to the window.

“Pebbles?!” she called out, her voice carrying down the tunnel outside. The wooden torches on the corridor walls barely lit the doors to the other cells, the place being totally deserted. She was unanswered.

“Pebbles, where are you?!” she shouted again. No reply. She tried a hard push on the door gritting her teeth and grunting as she mustered all her strength, but the hulking oak and iron behemoth could not be budged from the hinges. Beads of sweat rolling down her forehead, her panic instantly turned to rage, her hoof slamming against the grate. Pebbles was somewhere in one of those cells and not even the most secure and mightiest prison would stop her rampage.

“Let her go! Let her go dammit!”

No matter how hard she tried, it was no use. For what was hours of desperate pushing and bashing on the door to her was minutes in reality; her hooves were sore and numbed from thrashing the bars, tears in her eyes as she wore her herself down. Exhausted and defeated, she could only stand with her forehead pressed against the door as she cried, whispering.

“Please... Let her go...”

“You’ll never get out that way.”

Rocky craned her neck upwards, a quick gasp escaping her when she sprang to her hind hooves for the window. It was still as empty as before outside. Nopony was there.

“W-Who’s there?” she said, her voice quivering. She dried her eyes, pushing her face against the bars and searching for the source of the sound. It felt to her as if it had been uttered some years ago and had faded from being carried through the air. It was also close. It sounded as if it came from just inches away.

“I’ve been watching you... Your daughter. She’s safe,” it said, echoing softly from the walls. “She will be working now.”

Rocky’s eyes shot open. “Pebbles? You’ve seen Pebbles?!”

“Yes,” it replied. Rocky yelped when something prodded her on the shoulder, the mare spinning on the spot and blinking at what she saw. Or rather, who.

The stallion was standing face to face with her, a stare of surprise meeting his calm gaze. His pale green eyes looked back into her own behind his tatty and greasy blonde mane, black and blue bruises hidden by the dust covering his face. There was something strangely familiar about him to Rocky, thought she could not figure it out at first.

Then she remembered the train. She remembered the face amongst the other gnarled and ugly creatures as they stood in the pouring rain. With rising anger, she remembered.

“You!” She pulled back from her punch at the last moment, pushing him hard on the shoulder instead. “You were with those things! You... You took her didn’t you! You—”

“Had nothing to do with Pebbles,” he said quietly, undeterred by the mare’s threatening advance. Rocky took a bold step forwards, bringing their eyes an inch apart from each other.

“Don’t. Say. Her. Name,” she growled, her shaking hoof only barely being controlled, resisting the urge to try and hit him again. He snorted, unmoved. There was an unsettling calmness in his eyes, as if everything was normal and right with where they both were and why, and it affected Rocky in a way she could not explain. She couldn’t stay calm while her daughter was out there, but the stallion’s stare had her transfixed. She relaxed slightly, turning away from him and trying to make sense of it all; he was there, she was sure of that, but why was he now in her cell?

“They threw ya in here?” she said, making no attempt to mask the rage in her voice. “Why’d they do that?”

        He hesitated like a colt with stage fright. “I will admit that I worked with the diamond dogs, both now and in the past... they pay well.” He took breaths between his words as if every sentence tired him. “I should explain from the start... maybe you can help me.”

Rocky gave a slight laugh. “Help? You?!” She looked at him contemptuously, back into his calm and collected look and again she felt the anger inside her quelled in a sudden and mysterious way. She cleared her throat, looking to the floor as she tried to hide her slight embarrassment. “Alright then. Start from the top, and tell me everythin’.”

“Very well,” he said, walking to the straw bed and taking a seat, Rocky sitting opposite to him on the cold ground. He was silent until she had gotten comfortable, beginning with one of his deep breaths.

        “My name... ponies call me Snake Eyes. I suppose I’m good at gambling... cards, dice, coin flips, things like that, but my favourite is definitely dice. Anyway, the reason why I am here and not with the diamond dogs now... I was employed as a spy of sorts, under request from the leader of the train robbery. It seems, however, that I am no longer trusted. You saw them, didn’t you?”

        Rocky nodded. “Yeah. There were maybe... I dunno, ten of them there? Are those the only ones about? And then that big black bird thing! What the heck was that?”

        “That was a griffon,” he said, “a species of creature that rarely ventures outside of the Northlands. His name is Renard. As you have no doubt guessed, he was the organiser of the ‘emergency stop’. Diamond dogs are cowardly... he keeps them in line well enough. He is looking for two things: the first is ponies, and the second...”

        He drifted off and became quiet all of a sudden. He looked away, Rocky asking “What else?”

        “He never told me about that. He just told me about the ponies. There were two he was looking for on the train... one was a pegasus, the other a unicorn. I located them, but when the time came to take them was there... We searched for them carefully, checking everywhere for them... they could not be found.”

“A pegasus?” Rocky’s heart jumped. “Sepia...”

“Yes, that was her name,” Snake Eyes said. “Golden orange, brown and white mane, right wing crippled. Currently works at the Geldingstone Museum of Canterlonian History, archivist and researcher.”

Rocky blinked, shaking her head. “How did you know that?”

“It’s my job... It’s what I was hired to do.”

Rocky gave a flicker of a smile, barely noticeable. She’s safe... she thought. They’re both safe. But... the others...

The conversation slowly died once more, until Rocky looked at Snake Eyes’ face again. “Can I ask you somethin’?” she said.

He seemed reluctant at first, but soon nodded. “Please.”

“What’d they do to your face?” She pointed at the bruises, almost brushing her hoof against them. “Did they beat you up?” she said worriedly.

He sighed. “As I have mentioned, Sepia and the unicorn were not present amongst the captives,” Snake Eyes said. “Renard was determined to discover why... He held no reservations about blaming me, and that is why I am in this cell.”

A new feeling of panic flooded inside Rocky; she had seen Sepia and Starflash on the train- she had even sat with them- so what if he had told his interrogators about that? She could then be next in line. Pebbles was still out there too, the blotches of blue and purple on Snake Eyes’ face infecting her with worries; the dogs could be savagely hurting her, and Rocky could do nothing to stop them. She did not hold back from grabbing Snake Eyes by the shoulders, only getting a twinge of pain from his eyes as she tried to penetrate his calm exterior.

“Where’s my daughter?!” She shook him when he did not respond. “You told me she’s fine, but how d’ya know?! What if—”

“Your name is Rocky Road,” he said suddenly in his usual quietness, “am I correct?”

She was dumbfounded, her face frozen. “What?! I didn’t ask if ya knew my name! I asked—”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered quickly. He brushed her hooves from his shoulders, never breaking the link between his eyes and hers. “The captives in these mines are varied in age, ranging from newborn colts and fillies who have barely learned to sit up to stallions and mares who look as if the next cold winter will be their end. The total number of captives totals roughly thirty to fifty in number, though exact inventory is not kept. This number... it does exclude you, me, your daughter and the ponies who escaped the train. There are—”

“Wait,” Rocky said, her brow raised. “Mines? What mines? Where are they?”

He shook his head. “The exact location does not possess a name, but it is somewhere long south of the Northlands border. It is situated to the north of a local farm near the Wintervale Forest... There... I...” He did not finish, instead standing after a long pause. Rocky gave a deep breath, walking back to the door of the cell and reflecting on what she had learned.

“Wintervale...” Rocky had a flash of realisation. “We passed through there on the train, didn’t we?”

“That is correct,” he said.

“So that means that we couldn’t have been carried far underground, am I right?”

“It would seem so.”

“Then...” Rocky groaned, slumping against the door. “No, this still doesn’t make any sense at all! I still don’t know what’s goin’ on, and Pebbles—”

“She is probably being instructed upon the proper usage of the equipment... for the job she will be assigned. It will probably be something she is capable of doing, like tool transport or light digging. They will not hurt her. You have my word.”

        They looked at each other, eye to eye, once more. Then he did something that she was not expecting in the slightest. He smiled. It wasn’t wide or even happy, but still comforting and sincere all the same. Rocky fell under the strange power of calmness he seemed to exert gently upon her, finally speaking to dispel the silence.

“Alright then,” she said. “You... I don’t know who ya really are, and that’s what puts me off the most. Look, I have t’be honest with ya.” Rocky gave him a grave look, but not one seething with fury like she had mustered before. “I don’t trust you. I think you’ve got somethin’ t’hide.”

Snake Eyes nodded. “Understandable, given my involvement in recent events. However... I have a plan to escape this cell. It will be easier than you may think, but I need your full co-operation.”

“Easy?” The impenetrable bastion of wood and iron that was the only way in and out certainly didn’t look easy to breach to Rocky. She gave Snake Eyes another look over, his slender, fragile looking body not giving her much reassurance. “What, are ya gonna slip through the bars?”

He shook his head, looking at her in all seriousness. “We must wait for the guard to return. That is the only time which we may make our leave.” He made his way back to the straw bed, turning back to Rocky as he made himself comfortable, a pregnant silence as he sat there and stared again. “Insects.”

She stepped back, sheer bafflement spread across her face. “‘Scuse me?”

“How do you feel about insects?” he asked. She shrugged.

“Not... bothered by ‘em... I guess? Why?”

He laughed quietly. “I’m just... making conversation. It will be awhile before the guard makes his rounds.”

“How long?”

“Maybe an hour, maybe longer.” He swallowed, looking to the ground. “You must be from Little Rock, yes?”

“Yeah,” she said, resting her back against the door, slumping downwards. “You?”

“I... I have no home,” he whispered. “I ran away when I was a colt. I thought it would be fun to go on an adventure, far outside of my town. I just... couldn’t find my way back. I wandered the countryside for days until I was taken in.”

“Taken in?” Rocky said. He nodded.

“I arrived outside of the grand capital city of Piata, the mighty tree that grows inside the walls acting like a beacon on the horizon... It is said that in the final seconds of sunset, one can see every leaf that grows high in the air from miles away, each one a different shade of shadowy black and grey. A merely poetic way of saying it was large, but it was still a painting of words well known to everypony. I wandered the city streets for years, stealing small scraps from the carts and bins that I could dip my hooves into, learning the basics of magic from what I could glean by reading training books in the library where I often made my bed for the night, in the basement.”

“That’s when I found Renard. I was walking through the darkened alleys at midnight, looking for a place to stay, to shelter myself from the biting winter winds. An open window with flickering candlelight, glowing from behind tattered curtains, drew my like a moth to a flame...”

“And ya climbed in?” Rocky asked.

        “Of course. The room was torn apart as if a tornado had passed through the city just days beforehand, pages from books scattered and ripped from their bindings and furniture smashed, cloth slashed on the chairs and shelves collapsed. Those were not even the first things I had noticed...”

Rocky leaned forwards. “Why was the room like that?”

“Renard. He was curled in a corner, shivering and crying softly.” Snake Eyes sighed. “I... I didn’t know what to think when I first saw him there. I asked him what was wrong... he just looked at me, staring all the while with his teary, blood-red eyes. He stared and stared and stared, for minutes he did it. I ripped more of the cloth from the chairs and placed it over him, giving him small comfort from the winter night air, and I prepared to hop back through the window when...”

        “...he asked you to stay,” Rocky said.

"Yes. He never mentioned what I did ever again, nor did I bring it up. We really just... I suppose we bonded after that. He followed me, I followed him too. For three years, we were, I suppose you could say, 'partners'."

"Let me guess," said Rocky. "Partners in crime?"

"We went our separate ways after then, only for him to find me once more just weeks before now." He became silent again, turning his back on Rocky and curling up on the bed. "But... I have no idea what he's up to now. He's... changed."

Rocky slowly went to him, leaning over him. "But if you two had known each other for that long, why would he do this to you?"

She got no answer.

"I know ya might not want to hear it," she continued, "but maybe he was just usin' ya all that time. Maybe he wasn't lookin' for a friend. Maybe-"

"I need rest," he muttered. "I suggest you get some too."

She backed off when he said nothing else, feeling stupid for speaking her mind. She lay in the corner near the door and curled herself up as he had done, keeping a watchful eye on the stallion who did not stir, only letting herself drift off to a light sleep when she was convinced that he was not even going to look at her until the guard came. She hugged herself into a tight ball, the cool air chilling her as she worried.

Pebbles...