My Little Investigations: The Silent Dirge

by Metool Bard

Rating: teen
Tags: DJ P0N-3, Dark, Fiddlesticks, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mystery, Octavia, Sapphire Shores, Mare Do Well, Random
Length: 69709

Some maniac is aiming to silence every musician in Equestria. I, for one, will not stand for it.

My name is Octavia Melody. I play the cello for the Canterlot Ensemble, and I co-host a talk show on K-COLT Radio. I feel that music is a very important part of my life. It's how I express myself creatively, and while I can't speak for every musician out there, I know quite a few ponies who feel the same way. Which is why I was very excited to be given a chance to perform at the Manehattan Music Festival; an annual event where musicians from all walks of life gather to practice their art and enjoy the work of others. It is truly a music-lover's paradise, regardless of which genre you prefer. And as somepony who can appreciate all sorts of music (yes, even dubstep. Don't, tell Vinyl I said that), I was sure that this was the opportunity of a lifetime.

Then I get a mysterious letter delivered to my hotel room saying that if I so much as play a single note ever again, my life is forfeit.

At first, I thought it was a joke (and a poor one, at that). Nopony in their right mind would take a letter like that seriously. But then, a terrible accident occurs at the festival in the middle of Vinyl's set. As it turns out, she got the same letter I did. In fact, the only reason she's still alive is because she was rescued by a mysterious mare dressed in a rather bizarre costume. I couldn't make this up if I tried, though Celestia knows I wish I did.

Now, I'm no detective, but I know a rat when I smell one. I can say with a good amount of certainty that Vinyl and I weren't the only ones to get that letter. But what lunatic would go to such great lengths in order to hold every musician in Equestria hostage like this, and to what end? I don't have an answer to this, but one thing is for certain. Whoever it is, they won't get away with it.

The story I'm about to tell you is real (but again, I wish it wasn't), although some details may be open to interpretation. For the sake of clarity, I have decided not to change any names. Also, I feel it's fair to warn you that this is not a tale for young foals, the faint of heart, or the easily offended. If you fall into any of these categories, I highly advise you to turn back now and find something a bit more pleasant.

((Case 2 of the Mare-Do-Well Files.))

Published 2013-09-18 22:10:04 UTC
Last updated 2013-11-30 17:46:16 UTC

Overture: An Odd Welcome

Before I begin, I wish to make a bit of a disclaimer. I am, usually not comfortable talking about my private life. This is one of the few times I've done so; the other times being for professional interviews. As such, I would prefer it if some portions of this story were kept off the record. It's just that I'm in a very poor mood right now, and the last thing I need is some tabloid taking my words out of context (or keeping them in context, for that matter) and making me look like an ill-mannered dolt. I hope you understand where I'm coming from.

Now with that out of the way, allow me to introduce myself. For those who don't know, I am Octavia Melody, cellist and radio personality. I play for the Canterlot Ensemble; a magnificent group of ponies who are often hired to perform at prestigious events such as the Grand Galloping Gala and the Garden Party. I also co-host a radio talk show with my roommate, Vinyl Scratch (you may know her better as DJ P0N-3). As you can probably guess, my life is usually rather, hectic. However, I honestly wouldn't have it any other way (although Vinyl's boorish nature can be rather, grating at times). The reason for that is simple: I enjoy what I do.

Ever since I was a filly, music has had a big impact on my life. Not only is it my special talent, but it is through honing and perfecting this talent that I met all of the friends I have today. And over time, I developed a deep appreciation for a wide variety of musical genres (although classical is still my personal preference). In fact, I believe that almost any song out there can communicate so much on a variety of levels if it resonates with the right audience. You just have to listen carefully enough.

Actually, music is such an integral part of my life that I can't imagine life without it. Which is why this whole affair disturbs me greatly.

Oh, I do apologize. You probably don't know what I'm talking about, do you? Well, let me back up a bit and bring you up to speed. It all began just yesterday, when I first arrived in Manehatten for a most prestigious event...

***
April 8, 3:30 PM
The Marerriot Hotel
Room 308
***

"Aw, yeah~! True luxury at last!"

As soon as I opened the door to our room, Vinyl wasted no time darting inside and leaping onto the bed. I let out an exasperated sigh. Just because I've come to expect this kind of behavior from her doesn't make it any less annoying. Anypony who listens to our radio broadcasts probably know what I'm talking about.

For those who don't know, allow me to paint you a picture. Think of an embarrassing moment in your life. Now imagine you reliving that moment under Discord's rule while loud noise bombards you from all sides. That is Vinyl Scratch in a nutshell. Most ponies would call her eccentric, which I suppose is technically accurate. But I would also call her loud, obnoxious, tactless, immature, and completely insane. In all honesty, she's lucky I put up with her.

Okay, I'm being a trifle unfair here. The reason I put up with her is because I know that's not all there is to her. She has some good qualities as well. You, just have to look for them. But again, she still manages to get on my nerves despite that.

"Vinyl, if it's not too much to ask, could you at least try to behave yourself?" I asked. "This isn't a vacation, you know."

"Says who?" said Vinyl, flipping over on the bed to face me.

"What do you mean 'says who?'" I inquired.

"Think about it, Octy. We're attending a week-long music festival in Manehattan. How is that not a vacation?" said Vinyl.

"You neglected to mention the fact that we've been asked to perform at the festival," I said. "And what's more, it's not just any festival. It's the Manehattan Music Festival."

"Which is a music festival in Manehattan," said Vinyl with a shrug.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose as I desperately tried to regain composure. I knew Vinyl was acting dense just to get under my skin. She does that all the time.

"Yes, but it's much more than that. And you know it," I said. "The Manehattan Music Festival is the largest and most prestigious musical event in Equestria."

"Yeah, I know. I've been to it before," said Vinyl. "Sheesh, Tavi. I'm not an idiot."

"No, you just prefer to act like one for reasons beyond my comprehension," I said, rolling my eyes.

Vinyl laughed. "Can't really argue with that," she said. "Still, I think you should loosen up, Tavi. It's not much of a festival if we don't enjoy ourselves."

"Who says I'm not planning on enjoying myself?" I said, setting down my cello case. "Musicians from all over Equestria are going to be here. What's there not to enjoy?"

"My point exactly," said Vinyl. "So relax, will ya? We're gonna make this a week to remember!"

I had to smile at that. I, honestly agreed with her, at least on some level. There was no sense in stressing out over the performance. My ensemble wasn't scheduled to perform until a few days into the festival, so we had plenty of time to take part in the festivities.

"Alright, I see your point," I said. "But, first thing first. Let's get ourselves unpacked before we do anything else."

"Yeah, okay," Vinyl grumbled as she got out of bed. "Man, and I was starting to get comfy, too."

"Oh, stop complaining," I said as I unpacked my things. "Like you said, this is going to be a week to remember, so we might as well start it properly."

"I guess," said Vinyl. "It's just that I wanted to unwind a bit before we head on over to Lincolt Center. I'm gonna be pretty busy tonight."

Something clicked in my mind. "Oh, that's right! You and Neon Lights are performing tonight, right?"

"Yep," said Vinyl, taking out the festival's itinerary from her saddlebag. "I won't spoil anything, but we've got quite an opening act planned for this year's festival. It's gonna knock everypony's socks off."

"I'm sure it will, considering the volume levels you typically work with," I said. "Speaking of which..."

"I know, I know. No music at the crack of dawn while we're here," said Vinyl. "I don't think the stereo in our room goes to eleven, anyway."

There was no way to respond to that, so I simply continued to unpack. Just as I was laying out the last of my things, there was a knock at the door.

"Huh. I wonder who that could be," mused Vinyl. Those were my thoughts exactly.

"I'll get it," I said, walking over to the door. I looked through the peephole and saw that it was a bellhop. Curious as to what he wanted, I opened the door.

"Octavia Melody?" the bellhop said.

"Speaking," I responded.

"This just came for you."

The bellhop then gave me a blank envelope, which I found to be even stranger. Vinyl and I had just checked in. How did somepony find out what hotel I was staying in?

"Um, thank you," I said, accepting the note and giving the bellhop a tip.

"What is it?" asked Vinyl.

"Some sort of letter," I said, opening the envelope.

"Fan mail already? But we just got here." said Vinyl.

"I don't think it's fan mail, Vinyl," I said. "There's no address on the envelope, and..."

I trailed off as I read the letter. It was a short, typed-up document with no signature. It read as follows:

Octavia Melody:

If you so much as play a single note ever again, your life is forfeit. Heed this warning, or face the consequences.

Truth be told, I was a bit miffed by this. For one, it read like some sort of ransom note out of a mystery novel. It had to be a joke. Nopony could take this seriously. Second, the threat made no sense. What, was someone going to be watching me all the time, waiting to see if I'd pick up my cello? Not only is that monumentally creepy; it's downright idiotic. Third, how did whoever sent me this note know I was staying at this hotel? I doubt the staff would be so infantile that they would pull a prank on me like this.

"So, what does it say, Octy?" asked Vinyl.

"Nothing," I said hastily. "Just somepony playing a prank. A poor one, at that. I'll notify the concierge when we head out later."

"What kind of prank?" inquired Vinyl.

"Get this: Somepony is saying that if I play my cello ever again, they're going to kill me."

Vinyl paused for a moment, and then chuckled.

"Ooooooooookay then," she said. "Sounds like somepony's been reading too many crime novels."

"Sure seems like it," I said. "Honestly, did anypony really think I'd get freaked out by this?"

"Well, to be fair, you can be a worrywart sometimes, Tavi," said Vinyl. "But by the same token, you're probably the least gullible pony I know."

"Mmm," I said with a sigh. "Well, it'll be the concierge's problem once I report this. For now, let's finish getting ourselves settled."

"Right-o," said Vinyl.

I took another look at the letter and scoffed. I've been on the receiving end of pranks before (mainly from Vinyl), but this was just ludicrous, not to mention sick. Who honestly thought that a fake threat on my life would be funny? I certainly wasn't laughing. Whoever this rapscallion was, somepony should teach them some manners.

Little did I know that this letter was not a joke at all, but a precursor for things to come...

Author's Note

((OOC: Like with Wonderbolts Under Fire, I will not be answering comments as Octavia unless you have something constructive to say to her. Also, this should go without saying, but I'm gonna put it here anyway: Comments containing spoilers to Wonderbolts Under Fire must be marked with spoiler tags like so.))

Melodious Meeting

April 8, 5:30 PM
Lincolt Center
Main Floor
***

After telling the concierge about the letter I received, Vinyl and I headed right on over to Lincolt Center where the Manehattan Music Festival was being held. When we arrived, things were rather quiet (at least by Manehattan standards). Honestly, I expected that. For one, we were very early. The festival wasn't supposed to kick off until seven o'clock, so it was going to take a while for ponies to trickle in. Second, those who have been to Lincolt Center before know that all of the music events are held upstairs while the lower levels are reserved for art galleries and department stores.

That being said, I still recognized a few musicians around and about. I suspected that most of them were waiting on other ponies before heading upstairs. And speaking of which, I managed to spot two familiar stallions from my ensemble standing at the information desk: Frederick Horseshoepin and Parish Nandermane. To other ponies, they might not stand out that much, but after being with my ensemble for so long, I can easily pick them out of a crowd.

Frederick is our pianist, and a very good one at that. He usually helps keeps things organized in the most hectic of situations, and I honestly envy how he always keeps a cool head. He does have a rather dry sense of humor, but otherwise, he's a very nice fellow and quite the gentlecolt.

Parish plays the harp, which is probably why most ponies simply refer to him as Harpo. He's a bit more shy than the rest of us, and he doesn't really speak unless he feels he needs to. He also can come off as a cynic, but when push comes to shove, he'll have your back in a heartbeat. Especially if you're a mare. I, shouldn't say anything more. Parish would probably become cross with me if he found out I was gossiping about him.

Anyway, as soon as I spotted them, I wasted no time hurrying over and giving them a wave. They were quick to spot me.

"Good to see that we all had the same idea of coming here early," said Frederick. "I've already made our dinner reservations for six o'clock at the Bent Trumpet. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, Frederick," I said. The Bent Trumpet is a small cabaret in Lincolt Center. They usually host jazz ensembles, but other musicians have been known to perform there as well. I, honestly don't know why it's called the Bent Trumpet. From what I understand, it has to do with a famous jazz musician from Manehattan bending his trumpet horn to create a unique sound. I don't have any experience playing the trumpet, so I wouldn't know if that works. "How many did you say were coming?"

"Five," said Frederick. "I assumed Ms. Scratch would be joining us."

"Tempting, but I'll have to check in with Neon first," said Vinyl. "We've got a big performance to open up the festival later tonight. He might need my help setting things up."

"Understandable," said Frederick, furrowing his brow. "Although this puts me in a bit of a bind. Those reservations were rather difficult to get. I can't exactly change them."

"Even if Vinyl is going to be joining us, we're still in a bit of a bind," said Parish. "Out of curiosity, Octavia, did you happen to see Beauty Brass on your way here?"

I sighed and shook my head. "Sadly, no. I considered walking her over here, but something else came up and it slipped my mind."

Parish let out a sigh of his own. "Typical," he muttered. "I knew she was going to get lost in a big city like this."

"Ah, don't be such a pessimist, Harpo," said Vinyl. "I'm sure she'll turn up. And if she doesn't, Octy's gonna scour the entire city with a fine-tooth comb to look for her. Right, Octy?"

"Th-that's a bit of an exaggeration, Vinyl," I said. Though to be honest, I was a tad worried. Beauty Brass plays the sousaphone for our ensemble, and she's perhaps one of my closest friends. While she has a good head on her shoulders, she can also be very scatterbrained at times. This coupled with her rather poor sense of direction means that we're almost always waiting on her to arrive, which is why we made it a point to arrive at our performances far earlier than most ponies would expect us. Actually, I admire how lucky she is to avoid trouble while wandering around looking for us. But even so, it's kind of in my nature to worry about these sorts of things.

"Well, on the plus side, we have a good half an hour before our dinner reservations. She's never taken that long to find us," said Frederick with a shrug. "I guess all we can do for now is wait."

"I suppose," I said, although part of me wanted to go out looking for her. After a brief pause, Vinyl cleared her throat.

"So, Freddy. You excited about the festival?" she asked.

"Mmm? Oh, yes. Quite," said Frederick. "Although Lincolt Center is quite an, interesting choice of locale. I was under the impression that they only had jazz concerts here."

"I actually heard that they were considering the Maretropolitan Opera House, but it was too expensive to book," said Parish.

"I imagine that it would be," I said. "Besides, while Lincolt Center is known for its jazz concerts, I've heard all sorts of music being performed here. I actually think this is the ideal location for the Manehattan Music Festival."

"Ah. I stand corrected then," said Frederick. "Well, at any rate, it should be quite an experience."

"Well, that's one way of putting it," said Vinyl. "A boring way."

"Vinyl~!" I scolded.

"What? I can't help it if Fred's a bigger buzzkill than you, Tavi," said Vinyl.

If Frederick was offended by this, he didn't show it. Then again, he's not exactly the most emotional pony out there. Still, what Vinyl said was uncalled for.

"Let's, change the subject," I said, taking the itinerary out of my saddlebag. "Have you guys gotten a chance to see who's performing?"

"I have, actually," said Parish. "It's quite an impressive lineup. I even heard that Sapphire Shores is doing a duet with none other than Pan for the finale."

"Pan?" asked Vinyl. "You mean the guy who invented the panpipes?"

"Do you actually believe that?" I said, rolling my eyes. "That's just an urban legend."

"Hey, that guy can rock those pipes like no one else, pony or otherwise. It might as well be true," said Vinyl with a shrug. Her lips then curved into a seductive smile. "Speaking of rocking pipes, I have to wonder if that particular finale is gonna end with a bang. If you *ahem* get my meaning."

I groaned and smacked my face with my hoof. Sometimes I have to wonder if Vinyl has any concept of tact whatsoever. "Vinyl, just because he's a satyr doesn't mean he goes around trying to sleep with every woman he meets. That's an unhealthy stereotype. He's a well-respected musician and should be treated as such."

"Okay, okay. Sheesh, Tavi. Lighten up," said Vinyl. "Boy, if I had a bit for every time I said that..."

No comment. "Anyway, that actually sounds rather unique. I wonder how they're going to blend Sapphire Shores's pop music with Pan's minstrel style."

"Indeed," said Parish. "The other performances sound quite promising as well. However, there's one group on the docket that I've never heard of."

"Well, that's not a big surprise," I said. "The Manehattan Music Festival is for all musicians, regardless of fame or popularity."

"That's true," said Parish. "Still, there's something about this group that intrigues me."

"Oh really?" I asked. "What might that be?"

Before Parish could answer, I heard a clattering of hooves from behind. Assuming it was Beauty Brass, I turned around, bracing myself for her to apologize at the top of her lungs.

"Tavia~!"

It, turned out not to be Beauty Brass. The second I turned around, I was tackled into a hug by a yellow pony dressed up in a rustic green tunic and a white stetson. I was not prepared for that.

"Oof~!" I grunted. "F-Fiddlesticks?!"

"Aw, y'all remember me!" said the pony as she gave me a tight squeeze. "It's great t'see ya, Tavia!"

"I, do believe we're missing something here," said Frederick.

"Indeed," said Parish. "Care to explain, Octavia?"

"J-just a moment," I said. "F-Fiddle, do you mind?"

"Mmm? Oh, right," said Fiddlesticks, releasing me from her hug. "Sorry 'bout that. Got a bit carried away there."

That was an understatement. I had to pause for a moment to catch my breath and regain my composure. Truth be told, I was half-expecting to see her. Just, not like this.

"I, do believe some introduction are in order," I said. "Parish, Frederick. Allow me to introduce you to Fiddlesticks. She's my twin sister."

"Howdy," said Fiddlesticks with a tip of the hat.

Frederick raised an eyebrow. "Well, I certainly see the resemblance," he said.

"Ah would certainly hope so," said Fiddlesticks with a laugh. "Lookey here. We've even got the same Cutie Mark!"

Parish looked over Fiddlesticks's flank with a critical eye. Indeed, Fiddlesticks's Cutie Mark is a treble clef; the same as my own.

"Hmm. So you do," said he. "That's very interesting."

I feel that the word "ironic" is more appropriate. See, when we were young, Fiddlesticks always felt that her destiny had to be separate from mine. Because of this, she avoided me every chance she could (truth be told, the lengths she would go to got pretty ridiculous), and eventually ended up moving out and disowning herself. She found her true calling with the Apple family as a fiddle player, and she's been traveling all over Equestria ever since. I was very young when she left, so I honestly didn't remember her until she dropped in out of the blue to pay me a visit and make up for lost time. To this day, I'm still not entirely sure why my parents didn't tell me about her. Fiddlesticks doesn't really know, either, but we can sort that out when the time comes.

"So, ain't ya gonna introduce me to yer friends, Tavia?" Fiddlesticks asked.

"Oh, right," I said, clearing my throat. "Fiddle, these here are Frederick Horseshoepin and Parish Nandermane. They're part of my ensemble."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Parish with a bow.

"Charmed," said Frederick.

"So, y'all are here for the big festival, eh?" said Fiddlesticks.

"Indeed," said I. "We're actually scheduled to perform."

"Ah know. So am Ah," said Fiddlesticks, brandishing her own copy of the itinerary.

Parish chuckled. "Actually, we were just talking about you, Ms. Fiddlesticks. I was about to tell Octavia about this bluegrass band on the docket with a fiddle player that looks just like her."

"Well, if that don't beat all," said Fiddlesticks with a chuckle of her own.

"Hang on. You have a band?" asked Vinyl, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you traveled alone."

"Ah do," said Fiddlesticks. "It's jus' that Kazooie and Pitch Perfect happen to be mah most frequent employers. Of course, Kazooie always gets annoyed when Ah keep refusin' to join his band officially. Ah jus' don't like to be tied down, y'know?"

"All too well," I said. "So, is this your first time coming back to Manehattan?"

"Yeah," said Fiddlesticks sheepishly. "Truth be told, Ah almost got lost tryin' to find this place. Ah never really liked the city, an' the fact that it changed so much didn't help matters."

Parish then furrowed his brow. "Speaking of which, you didn't happened to see a blue mare with a bass clef for a Cutie Mark running around, did you, Ms. Fiddlesticks?"

Fiddlestick struck a thinking attitude. "Hmm. Ah'm not sure," she said thoughtfully. "Can ya describe her a bit mo...?"

"SORRY I'M LATE!"

Well, that answered that question. We all recoiled as Beauty Brass's apology echoed throughout the floor. She stopped before us to catch her breath.

"Sheesh, BB. Could you speak a little louder next time?" asked Vinyl. "I don't think they heard you in Saddle Arabia."

"Pot, kettle. Have you two met?" I said sardonically. I then turned to Beauty Brass and sighed. "It's alright, Beauty Brass. You're not late. That being said, I should've walked you over here."

"Ah, it's fine, Octy," said Beauty Brass. "Not your fault."

She then noticed Fiddlesticks. It took a moment, but when she connected the dots, she did a double take.

"SWEET CELESTIA, I'M SEEING DOUBLE!" she boomed.

We all winced again. This actually happens all the time. Beauty Brass can't really control her volume when she gets excited. It doesn't help that she developed powerful lungs from playing the sousaphone.

"Sorry, sorry," she said.

"I-it's fine," I said as I recovered. "Beauty Brass, this is my twin sister Fiddlesticks. Fiddle, this is Beauty Brass. She also plays in our ensemble."

"Nice to meetcha," said Fiddlesticks, flicking her ear a bit to clear it out.

Vinyl then looked up at the clock. "Well, I'd better go check in with Neon. I'll see you at the performance, Octy."

With that, she walked over to the elevators.

"We'd better head up ourselves," said Frederick. "Although I don't know how long they'll hold Ms. Scratch's seat."

"Huh? What do you mean by that?" asked Beauty Brass.

"Frederick made dinner reservations," I explained. "He assumed that Vinyl was going to join us, but that's not exactly a certainty."

Fiddlesticks paused for a moment, and then smiled. "Well, y'all mind if Ah join ya? Ah'd certainly like to get to know yer band better."

"It's an ensemble," I corrected.

"There's a difference?" asked Fiddlesticks with a shrug.

I suppressed the urge to groan. That's, one of my pet peeves: Ponies calling my ensemble a "band." You can blame Vinyl for that one.

"Well, whatever the case, I have no objections," said Frederick. "Does anypony else?"

"Nope," said Beauty Brass.

Parish simply shrugged.

"In that case, I don't either," I said, giving Fiddlesticks a warm smile. "I'm sure my ensemble would love to hear all about you."

"In that case, we shouldn't waste anymore time," said Frederick. "Shall we?"

With that, we all made our way over to the elevators. Truth be told, I was giddy with anticipation. The performances lined up were enticing, and of course, that wasn't the only music that was going to be played. If I had Vinyl's level of self-restraint (which I'm glad I don't), I would've been like a foal in a sweets shop. And experiencing it with the ponies that I'm closest with was just the icing on the cake. This was setting up to be one of the happiest weeks of my life. And I couldn't wait to watch it unfold.

Author's Note

((OOC: If you're confused about my headcanon regarding Fiddlesticks, it's explained in greater detail in my previous story, Hey Diddle Diddle, A Visit From Fiddle. I'll, try not to make a habit out of this. :twilightsheepish: ))

Sudden Tone Shifts

April 8, 6:15 PM
Lincolt Center
The Bent Trumpet
***

As it turned out, Vinyl did not end up joining us for dinner. I wasn't expecting her to, honestly. Vinyl is many things (and I do mean many things), but unreliable isn't one of them. Irresponsible at times, maybe. But when she says she's going to do something, she'll make sure she gets it done. No matter how ridiculous it may seem.

Which made me wonder what exactly she was planning with Neon Lights. Whatever it was, it had to be big. I just had to hope that she didn't go overboard, as is her wont. As I thought this, Beauty Brass seemed to notice the nervousness on my face.

"You okay, Octy?" she asked.

"Mmm? Oh, I'm fine," I said. "I was just thinking about something silly. It's not important."

"It looks more like you were worrying about something," said Frederick. "Which could in and of itself be something silly and unimportant, so at least you're being honest with us in that regard."

He said that with such a straight face that it was nigh-on impossible to tell if he was being facetious or not. This is kind of what I meant when I said that Frederick has a dry sense of humor.

"Well, it's about Vinyl," I said. "Usually when she has something special planned, I tend to err on the side of caution."

"Well, there ain't nuttin' we can do about that," said Fiddlesticks with a shrug as she bit into a slice of pizza.

"I know. That's what worries me," I said.

Fiddlesticks shrugged again. "Well, even if she does get carried away, it should still be an interestin' show."

"I suppose," I said, wanting to get off the subject. "Anyway, speaking of performances, we should probably be thinking about our own."

Frederick took out his copy of the festival itinerary and quickly scanned it. "Well, we're scheduled to perform on the eleventh, so I figure we'll have ample time to practice. Luckily, all performers are going to have open access to the studios here, so finding space to practice in shouldn't pose a problem."

"Are you sure there's going to be enough studios for everypony?" Beauty Brass inquired before sipping her lentil soup.

"There should be," said Frederick. "Even if that doesn't turn out to be the case, we're all civilized ponies here. We can surely work something out."

"Y'all will still find time to enjoy the festival too, right?" said Fiddlesticks.

I had to chuckle. "Well, of course. It wouldn't be right for us not to enjoy ourselves while we're here."

"Darn tootin'," said Fiddlesticks with a laugh. "So, anythin' in particular you're lookin' forward to, Tavia? Personally, Ah'm interested in hearin' these violinists right here. Y'all wouldn't happen to know 'em, would ya?"

She took out her copy of the itinerary and pointed to two names on the docket that I did indeed recognize: Concerto and Symphony. They usually played alongside my ensemble; mainly when the performance called for a string trio. I never heard them on their own, so this was sure to be interesting.

"I actually do know them," I said. "They're very talented."

"Ah'll take yer word for it," said Fiddlesticks. "So what's everypony else lookin' forward to?"

"Well, there's your band for reasons I mentioned before," said Parish. "And I'm sure we're all interested in the finale with Sapphire Shores and Pan. But I'm also intrigued by this Lyra Heartstrings."

"Yeah, Lyra never fails to disappoint. At least in mah experience," said Fiddlesticks. "Ah heard her a few times while Ah was stayin' in Ponyville. It's a shame she's not that famous in the music world."

"Hmm. Perhaps this will change that," said Parish. "What about you, Frederick?"

"Actually, I'm more interested in Slick Licks and Ragtime," said Frederick. "It's always a refreshing experience to hear a fellow pianist play, and they say that Slick Licks is the most skilled jazz musician in Manehattan. What of you, Octavia?"

Truth be told, that was a bit of a tricky question. "Well, what's there not to look forward to?" I said with a shrug.

"Yeah, I'm with you on that one, Octy," said Beauty Brass. "They really snagged some good talent this year. Even ponies I never heard before like Lyra and Fiddlesticks sound like a lot of fun."

"Trust me, ya won't be disappointed," said Fiddlesticks with a wink.

"I don't think any of us will be," I said. "There's a little something for everypony here, regardless of genre preference. Classical, jazz, bluegrass, pop..."

"Dubstep," said Parish.

"Well, yes. That too," I said. "Speaking of which, we should probably finish our meal so we can get good seats."

"What, in the back?" asked Frederick.

I didn't respond to that. It's no secret that Vinyl's music is very, very loud. It's also no secret that she plays it at full blast every morning (to wash the dishes, no less! Don't ask me how that's possible; I honestly don't know). So one could say I was not looking forward to her upcoming set. In actuality, it's really not that simple with me. I'll, get into that in a bit.

***
April 8, 6:55 PM
Lincolt Center
The Whinnyton Maresalis Theater
***

After we finished our meal, we went straight to the theater. All of Vinyl's equipment appeared to be set up and ready to go. There didn't appear to be anything extravagant at first glance, but I know Vinyl. She always finds a way to take something to the next level; even when it's not called for.

I found my seat just as the audience started applauding. Making his way onto the stage was none other than Slick Licks; this year's host of the festival. He was a dusty red Earth Pony with a dark orange mane and a clarinet for a Cutie Mark. He wore a nice grey jacket and rather fancy-looking horseshoes. He raised his hoof, indicating that he wanted silence. When the applause died down, he began to speak.

"Good evening, fillies and gentlecolts," he said. "And welcome to this year's annual Manehattan Music Festival. We here at the Lincolt Center Orchestra are glad you all could make it, as we've got some of the finest talent in Equestria to perform here just for you guys and gals. So without further ado, let's get to our first performance. We've got a couple of ponies here who need no introduction. You might've heard them on the airwaves; especially a certain cool kitten with a wacky mind and a lot of heart."

I would comment on that if I didn't think there was some truth to it.

"So, put your hooves together for the mistress and master of modern music: DJ P0N-3 and MC W1SH!"

There was a round of applause as Slick Licks left the stage to make way for Vinyl and Neon. Vinyl looked positively ecstatic as she waved to the audience. Neon was obviously the more modest of the two, but that's because I'm very sure "modest" is not in Vinyl's vocabulary.

"Thank you, thank you! You're all too kind!" said Vinyl. "I hope you're all ready to have your socks knocked off, 'cause this first one is very special. You ready, Neon?!"

"Always am, always will be!" Neon responded.

"Good and good!" said Vinyl. "Now, LET'S SPIN THIS SHIT!"

Ugh~. I hate that catchphrase. And I'm fairly certain that I'm not the only one. At least I hope I'm not. Anyway, I braced myself for the bombastic cacophony that I had become accustomed to when it came to Vinyl's work. Which is why what I heard next was far more surprising:

"Alright then, ladies. From the top..."

I-I couldn't believe me ears. W-was that my voice? Why was it coming out of the speakers like that? Even more curious, what followed was a string quartet; nothing like what I would expect from Vinyl Scratch. It was pretty to listen to, but I couldn't help but feel utterly confused.

Then the sound of a thumping bass joined the strings, and something clicked in my mind. There was an incident a while back where Vinyl interrupted a lesson I was giving to some fillies who wanted to take music lessons with the great Octavia Melody (they said it, not me). I began to feel a sense of dread.

"Oh, you can not be serious."

My thoughts exactly. I became thoroughly embarrassed and uncomfortable as more than a few ponies were looking at me in confusion. I didn't even know that Vinyl recorded all of that. I don't even know how she recorded all of that!

"I'm so sorry. Excuse me for just one moment."

After a few seconds, the strings stopped. The sound of a loud knocking on a door burst from the speakers. I sank lower in my seat.

"Vinyl~."

Another set of knocks.

"Vinyl Scratch, open the door!"

My face was now completely red as another set of knocks sounded.

"You promised me you wouldn't do this~!"

For the record, she did promise me. Words cannot describe how mortified I was by all this. Vinyl might not have any sense of shame, but she knows full well that I do. I had half a mind to walked right up to her and chew her out royally in the middle of her set! How could she do this?! How dare she do this! How could she possibly think that this was a good idea?! I mean...

"For buck's sake..."

After that rather embarrassing exclamation, the strings returned. And along with them, there was as set of familiar vocals. It was clearly a remix of the song Vinyl put together for the wedding of Shining Armor and Princess Cadence. And, I'm not going to lie; it was absolutely beautiful.

Just, the way that the strings and the wubs coincided with one another combined with a masterful use of auto-tune was enough to make me forget my anger and appreciate how much work Vinyl must've put into this. Although I still don't know how or why she managed to record that particular incident, that seemed rather trivial at this point. Maybe I was just not meant to know. Either way, this was a true masterpiece. And to think it all sprang from an argument that we go through almost every day!

And then, at the climax, my voice returned.

"My roommate is a 'bassist.' And perhaps we're not so different, she and I; genre be damned. It's the music that drives us. The harmonies that bind us. The friendship, that found us."

I don't know how she managed to work that in, because I honestly don't remember saying that. But to be frank, I might as well have. That quote echoed my thoughts so well. And then it hit me. This song wasn't meant to humiliate me. It was a tribute to how two musicians of vastly different styles can live together. You cannot imagine how much that resonated with me. She clearly made this mix with me in mind, and well, I was moved to tears.

Despite everything I say about Vinyl Scratch, I, do deeply care for her. And I know she cares for me, even though she has an odd way of expressing her affection. For those of you that read the tabloids about me and Vinyl, I'll just clear the air right here: Yes, there is some truth to them. And that's all you're getting out of me. Use your imagination to fill in the rest. Celestia knows I can't stop you.

Anyway, after I had taken a moment to collect myself, I quickly joined everypony else in the massive round of applause Vinyl received for her set. You might find it odd that a pony such as myself would enjoy dubstep, and you'd be right. It is rather odd, isn't it? But despite the whole controversy of the genre, I find it to be something of a guilty pleasure (just a reminder, this is off the record). Beyond that, I know good music when I hear it. And that was simply phenomenal.

"That one was for you, Tavi!" Vinyl called out over the applause.

Indeed it was. But more than that, it actually reflected the festival as a whole, when you think about it. The Manehattan Music Festival was not just a celebration of one style of music over another. It was a celebration of all styles of music, and really music in general. This was a fitting opening act to start off a most wonderful week.

After the applause, Vinyl and Neon launched into the next section of their set. I listened as intently as I could, but my mind was still reeling from that magnificent opening song; so much so that it became rather difficult to concentrate on anything else. Eventually, I gave up and drifted off into my own world, replaying that first song in my head over and over again. Nopony seemed to notice (really, how could they?), but even if they did, it didn't matter to me. I was experiencing true bliss, and absolutely nothing could ruin it.

Or, so I thought.

I was jolted back into reality by a loud screech of feedback blasting from Vinyl's speakers. I recoiled from the sound and scrunched my eyes shut. When I had recovered, I was both horrified and perplexed by what I saw on stage. Vinyl was slumped against the controls of her mixing board. Although my ears were still ringing, I faintly detected a small noise. Something like a tea kettle coming to a boil. Before anypony could do anything else, several things happened at once.

A shadowy figure suddenly swooped onto the stage, scooped up Vinyl, and ran off with her. A split second later, another screech of feedback sounded from the speakers. This one was a lot louder. We all recoiled again. Once I had recovered, I quickly made my way through the crowd and got onstage.

"Vinyl!" I called out, straining my voice over my impaired hearing.

It didn't take me long to find her. She was laying on the floor just offstage. Standing over here was somepony dressed in an odd skintight costume with a purple cape and wide-brimmed hat. Judging solely by her build, I assumed she was a mare, but there was no way to be certain. Before I could approach the stranger, she gave me a salute and disappeared into the shadows.

I quickly ran to Vinyl's side and felt her pulse. She was still breathing. I let out a sigh of relief and softly prodded her.

"Vinyl? A-are you okay?" I asked.

"Nngh. Not so loud," Vinyl moaned, clutching her ears. "Ugh, where's Neon? I thought he checked this out."

That was a good question. I took a quick look around, but Neon Lights was nowhere to be seen.

"H-he's not here," I said. "Vinyl, do you need a doctor or anything?"

"Mmmph. I-I'll be alright," said Vinyl. I didn't believe her for a second.

"Here, let's get you back to the hotel," I said, hefting her up. "You should probably get some rest."

"B-but Tavi..."

"Shh," I said, cutting across her. "Take it easy. It's going to be alright. I promise."

Vinyl let out a pained sigh in response. She was in no condition to fight me on this, and we both knew it. As I dragged her away and kept her shielded from prying eyes, only one question was on my mind:

Why did this have to happen?

Author's Note

((OOC: Before anyone says anything, yes, I know there's no Wynton Marsalis Theater in Lincoln Center. Hey, you try making a pony pun out of the Rose Theater or the Allen Room. :trixieshiftleft:

Anyway, special thanks to YourEnigma for allowing me to use his awesome song, My Roommate is a 'Bassist' for this chapter. Cheers. :moustache: ))

Minor Key, Major Crisis

April 8, 8:33 PM
The Marerriot Hotel
Room 308
***

This isn't the first time I had to carry Vinyl and put her to bed like this. When you have a roommate who likes to go out partying until the wee hours, you'll soon find that this sort of thing is almost part of your daily routine. But this was different. This time, she was seriously hurt, and I had to help her.

In hindsight, I probably should have informed the concierge of our situation, or perhaps take Vinyl to a hospital instead of back to the hotel. But honestly, after what had happened back at the festival, I couldn't think straight. All that mattered to me was to get Vinyl to bed and sort the rest out later. Assuming I recovered from my shock by then.

I opened the door to our room, and it made a slight creaking sound. Vinyl winced and gripped her head in pain. Truth be told, it was an odd sight. The mare who thrived on being loud and bombastic was now flinching at the slightest sound. It was, heartbreaking to look at. As quietly as I could, I entered our room, slowly closed the door behind me, and lay Vinyl down on the bed. I brushed my hoof against her cheek.

"How are you feeling?" I whispered.

"Let me put it this way," mumbled Vinyl. "Now I know how you feel every morning."

Well, at least her rapier wit was still intact. I sighed.

"Vinyl, could you please take this seriously?" I said.

"Let me get back to you on that when my head stops throbbing," Vinyl muttered as she massaged her forehead. "Ugh, buck it, Neon. I thought you said there weren't any problems."

"There's no use dwelling on it now," I said. "Now, I'm going to go down to see the concierge and ask him about getting you a doctor. Don't move."

I made a move to leave, but Vinyl quickly held me back.

"Tavi, wait," she said weakly. "Y-you don't have to do that. I-it's not that bad, really."

I turned to face her, and my heart sank like a stone. I knew what Vinyl was trying to say. She didn't want me to leave her alone. I let out another sigh.

"Alright," I conceded. "But I'm getting you a doctor first thing tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Vinyl grumbled. She didn't really sound too keen on the idea. I think she was upset that she was probably going to miss out on the rest of the festival. I can't say that I blame her, but by the same token, her well-being was a higher priority. I let out yet another sigh and shook my head.

"You are such a child sometimes," I said.

"And you're a worrywart," Vinyl retorted.

I had to smile at that. "Maybe so, but somepony has to worry about you," I said softly, brushing back her mane. "Here, I'll get you some medicine to help you sleep. I won't be long."

"I'm holding you to that," said Vinyl with a slight sneer.

I let out a brief laugh despite myself. It's amazing how Vinyl thinks she can just shrug off every problem that comes her way, no matter how big it is. I shudder to think of what would happen if I wasn't there to look out for her.

"Fair enough," I said. I then brushed back Vinyl's mane one last time. I was about to get up to leave when I noticed a crumpled-up piece of paper in the waste basket.

"Um, Vinyl? What's that?" I asked.

"What's what?" inquired Vinyl.

"This," I said, taking out the paper.

"Oh, that," said Vinyl. "It's nothing, Octy."

I raised an eyebrow. "What kind of nothing?"

"I dunno, the nothing kind of nothing," said Vinyl with a shrug.

"Vinyl, please..."

"Tavi, I really don't have the strength to be pulling your leg here. Trust me on this one," said Vinyl.

Okay, she had me there. Still, this was rather curious. "Well, what do you mean by that?"

"I found it on the floor while I was unpacking," said Vinyl.

"It was just lying on the floor like this?"

"No, it was in this blank envelope," said Vinyl. "At first, I thought the maid forgot her tip or something, but there were no bits inside. Just that piece of paper."

"Did it say anything?"

"I dunno, I didn't bother to read it," said Vinyl.

I deadpanned. "Of course you didn't," I said, unfolding the paper. "Vinyl, somepony could've misplaced this. I know it's difficult for you, but you should try to show a bit more..."

I trailed off as I read the paper. The words on the page caused my heart to freeze:

Vinyl Scratch:

If you so much as play a single note ever again, your life is forfeit. Heed this warning, or face the consequences.

It didn't take me long to connect the dots, but when I did, I wasn't sure what to think. Part of me thought this was just a coincidence, but that part was overshadowed by my worries and fears. What if someone had tried to kill Vinyl simply for playing music? And what if that same someone was also aiming to kill me? The very thought caused me to tremble all over.

"Hey, are you okay, Tavi?" Vinyl asked.

I tried to answer her, but I simply didn't know what to say. I didn't want to lie to her, but I didn't want to scare her, either. What's more, I was still very much in shock, so I couldn't form a coherent thought even if I wanted to.

"E-excuse me for a moment," I said, dropping the paper to the floor and running into the bathroom.

***

Once I was there, I rushed over to the sink and splashed some cold water on my face. I then looked at my reflection in the mirror.

"Okay. Get a hold of yourself, Octavia," I told myself between pants. "You're probably just imagining things. Everything is fine. It's just a coincidence. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"You don't sound particularly convinced."

A voice I did not recognize caused a chill to go straight up my spine. I became as still as a statue, fearing that I would die if I made the slightest movement.

"It's alright. I'm not here to hurt you," said the voice in a dull whisper.

"H-how am I supposed to believe that?" I stammered.

There was a pause.

"Good point," said the voice. "Here."

I then saw something dangling over my head in the mirror. Before I could react, the object was placed atop my head, revealing it to be a wide-brimmed purple hat. I recognized it and turned around. There standing before me was the mysterious stranger who saved Vinyl back at the festival.

"So sorry we had to meet like this," said the stranger. From her tone of voice, I could safely say that she was a mare. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Well, you could've fooled me," I said. "How did you get in here, anyway?"

"Trade secret," said the stranger with a shrug. "Oh, forgive my manners. I should probably introduce myself."

She then plucked the hat from my head and bowed before me.

"My true name is a well-guarded secret," said she. "But you may call me the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well."

I could just picture Vinyl rolling around on the floor laughing at that. Seriously? The Mysterious Mare-Do-Well? That sounds like the kind of name that belongs to a comic book superhero. Which is fitting, considering her fashion sense.

"Um, right," I said. "Anyway, my name is..."

"Octavia Melody. Yes, I know," interrupted Mare-Do-Well. "I happen to be a fan of your work. And before you ask, no, I'm not stalking you. Not intentionally, anyway."

"Not intentionally?" I parroted.

"Allow me to explain," said Mare-Do-Well. "I am a vigilante by trade. I protect ponies who are in peril."

"So, that's why you saved Vinyl?" I asked.

"Is there any other reason?" Mare-Do-Well replied.

"I, suppose not," I said. "But, how did you know that Vinyl was in danger?"

Mare-Do-Well obscured her eyes with her hat. Suddenly, the room felt a lot colder.

"I go where I'm needed, Ms. Melody," she said darkly. "And I feel that I'm needed here."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"I think you already know," said Mare-Do-Well.

Something clicked in my mind. "Are you referring to the death threats that Vinyl and I received?" I asked.

"Yes and no," said Mare-Do-Well. "I was actually unaware that Ms. Scratch received one until she was attacked."

"But, how did you know about mine?"

"I see no reason to tell you," said Mare-Do-Well.

"And why not? You've told me everything else," I retorted.

"That was to give you peace of mind," said Mare-Do-Well firmly. "You are in enough danger as it is, Ms. Melody. The last thing I want to do is make it worse."

I was about to protest when I heard a knock on the door.

"Excuse me," I said, turning away. "I'll be out in a minute, Vinyl."

"You've been in there for a while, Tavi," said Vinyl. "Is everything okay?"

"Just get back to bed, Vinyl," I said. "You need your rest. I'll be back with your medicine in a..."

When I turned around, I was perplexed to see that Mare-Do-Well had vanished into thin air. How, I have no idea. Sure, there was a ventilation shaft, but I can't imagine anypony crawling through that without making a sound.

"Tavi?"

Vinyl's voice brought me back to reality. "Just a second," I said.

With that, I got some medicine out of the medicine chest and opened the door. Vinyl had a very concerned look in her eyes.

"Okay, Octy. Spill," she said. "What's wrong?"

I sighed. I can never hide anything from Vinyl.

"I'll, tell you about it in the morning," I said. "We've, both been through a lot tonight. I think we should turn in early."

"You promise that you'll tell me?" said Vinyl.

I nodded. "I promise."

"Okay. I'm holding you to that," said Vinyl with a wink.

***

I couldn't sleep a single wink that night. Even though that Mare-Do-Well character wanted to give me peace of mind, I still kept wondering about why someone would wish death upon me and Vinyl. Or, was it just me and Vinyl? The more I thought about it, the more I came to realize that this was bigger than just two musicians.

Mare-Do-Well didn't want me getting involved for a reason, and I'd wager that reason is that Vinyl and I weren't the only ponies to receive death threats. Meaning that someone is targeting every musician in Equestria and threatening us not to practice our craft. The very thought made me sick to my stomach. What kind of monster would do that, and why?

That's when I made my decision. I don't give a flying toss about Mare-Do-Well's warning. Music is part of my life, and it's too important for me to simply leave in some stranger's hooves. I'm going to get to the bottom of this and make sure this bastard gets what's coming to him. Not alone, of course. That would be stupid.

Mind you, I'm still rather apprehensive. I don't know what awaits me in this mad endeavor, and that frightens me to no end. But I will not allow some madman to take away something that's so precious to me. Not without a fight.

Somber Suspicions

April 9, 6:40 AM
The Marerriot Hotel
Room 308
***

Usually in the morning, Vinyl is always up before I am. It's something I've grown to accept, but it still boggles my mind how a pony who parties well into the night can wake up bright eyed and bushy tailed the next morning. Seriously, I don't know many ponies who have half the stamina Vinyl does (again, I don't wish to be taken out of context here). Even so, I figured this morning would be different due to Vinyl's condition. After all, she had quite a ghastly experience last night, and that sort of thing doesn't just go away.

"Octy~."

I squirmed a bit as I felt Vinyl nudge me with her hoof. I hesitate to say that I stand corrected about what I previously. She was up before me, yes, but she has never woken me up like this before. It felt a lot more, subdued than normal. She clearly was not herself. And this might sound surprising coming from me, but I didn't like that. It meant something was dreadfully wrong.

"Mmm. Vinyl?" I murmured, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"Good morning, Octy," said Vinyl softly.

I could hear the concern in her voice. She clearly didn't forget about last night. I sighed inwardly. This was not going to be easy.

"Good morning," I mumbled. "How are you feeling?"

"Loads better, actually," said Vinyl. "My headache's gone, and my ears don't hurt anymore. You?"

"Hard to say," I said, taking a deep breath. I might as well get it over with. Celestia, give me strength. "Um, Vinyl? About last night..."

"Yeah, what about it?" said Vinyl. "After you read that letter I threw out, you started acting all anxious. What did it say, anyway?"

I let out a great sigh. "It was a death threat, Vinyl. The same threat as the one I got yesterday before we went to the festival."

Vinyl stared at me in disbelief, her mouth agape. "You're serious."

I nodded. All was silent for a time as Vinyl took a moment to process this. I wasn't sure how she'd react. She usually laughs in the face of danger, but you can't laugh at your own near-death experience, can you? Especially when someone tried to kill you for doing what you love.

"Well, damn," said Vinyl, sounding like she was still in shock. "That's, pretty heavy, Octy."

"I know," I said. "I-I can't believe it, either."

"No, I believe it," said Vinyl. "After all, I'm the one who almost bought the farm. But that doesn't mean it makes sense."

I turned to Vinyl, and saw that her brow was furrowed. "What do you mean?" I inquired.

"Neon," said Vinyl darkly. "If some dock-hole screwed with our equipment last night attempting to take me out, he should've caught it before we went on."

I could see Vinyl's body become tense all over as she began rubbing the bridge of her nose with her hoof. That didn't bode well. Vinyl doesn't usually get angry, but when she does, it is not a pretty sight. Trust me, I've seen it firsthoof.

"Vinyl, calm down," I said, placing a hoof on her shoulder. "Maybe he overlooked something."

"That can't be, Tavi," said Vinyl with a shake of her head. "I know Neon. He doesn't buck up this royally. But at the same time, he considers me to be one of his best friends. He wouldn't do something like that to me on purpose."

"Well, we can worry about that later," I said. "First, we need to get you a doctor."

Vinyl gave me a look. "Tavi, I told you already. I'm fine," she said sternly.

"Vinyl, you almost had your eardrums blown out. You're not 'fine,'" I said.

"Hey, 'almost' only counts in horseshoes," said Vinyl. "Besides, I need to give Neon a piece of my mind."

"Vinyl, you promised."

"That was before I found out someone had it in for me."

"But Vinyl..."

"Tavi, look," said Vinyl, placing a firm hoof on my shoulder and staring me straight in the eye. "I know you're worried about me, but you of all ponies should know that I don't go down that easy. I'm not trying to put on a brave face here; I really feel better. Also, there's no way in Tartarus I'm leaving you alone with all this heavy stuff weighing on your mind. You get what I'm saying?"

I, most certainly did. Vinyl and I may disagree on many things, but when she's right, she's right. Also, I could tell she wasn't lying about this. I sighed.

"Alright," I relented. "But if you start feeling poorly for whatever reason, I want you to tell me, okay?"

"Deal," said Vinyl with a warm smile. "Now, how about we get some grub? I'm starving."

Actually, breakfast didn't sound like such a bad idea. If I was going to try and solve this quandary, I couldn't do it on an empty stomach.

"Well, maybe we should wait a bit," I said. "It's only seven o'clock. I don't think the hotel serves breakfast until nine."

"What? That's a dumb rule," said Vinyl.

I raised an eyebrow. "Look, just because you get up at the crack of dawn doesn't mean everypony else does."

"I know that all too well, Octy," said Vinyl. "But it doesn't diminish the dumbness of the rule."

"Well, there's no use complaining about it," I said with a sigh.

Vinyl blinked. "Huh? Then what's the concierge there for?"

I gave Vinyl a look. "Please tell me you didn't just say that."

"I could, but then I'd be lying," said Vinyl with a playful grin.

I had to smile as well. It seemed like Vinyl was slowly getting back to her old self.

"Well, let's just ask him if he can recommend a good café for us or something," I said. "After all, we're in Manehattan. There's bound to be something."

"Spoken like a true Manehattanite," said Vinyl with a laugh.

I laughed too. Even in the darkest of times, Vinyl can always find a way to put a smile on my face. I think you can see now why I put up with her.

***
April 9, 7:15 AM
The Marerriot Hotel
Third Floor Hallway
***

After getting ourselves freshened up, we ventured out into the hallway. We were just about to head for the elevators when I heard somepony call out to us.

"Hey there! If it isn't the mare of the hour!"

I recognized that harmonious voice anywhere. Honestly, you'd have to be living under a rock not to. We turned around and sure enough, we were greeted by none other than Sapphire Shores; the Pony of Pop herself. I was actually surprised to see her so chipper after what had happened last night.

"The, mare of the hour?" I asked.

"Well of course!" said Sapphire jovially. "Everypony here's been talking nonstop about Vinyl's simply sensational performance last night."

Vinyl flashed a complacent grin. "Yeah, it was pretty awesome, wasn't it?"

"In every sense of the word, girl!" said Sapphire. "Especially that first piece. It got me right here."

She tapped her chest as she said that. As you are already no doubt aware, I shared her sentiments.

"Well, I'm glad you liked it," said Vinyl. "Neon was a bit skeptical about that first one, but I sure proved him wrong."

"I'd certainly say so," said Sapphire with a chuckle. She then let out a sigh. "It's just a shame your set had to end the way it did. Are you alright?"

"Sure. Never better," said Vinyl. "You know the old saying, Sapphie. You can't keep a good pony down."

This is usually where I chime in with some sarcastic remark, but to be honest, it would've been in poor taste. Besides, I wasn't really in the mood for witty banter.

"Um, Ms. Shores? I was wondering..."

Sapphire interrupted me with a laugh. "I keep telling you, Tavi-doll. There's no need to be so formal. Call me Sapphire~."

"Right. I keep forgetting," I said. Anypony who knows Sapphire Shores personally knows that she has a very casual attitude for such a famous pony. In some respects, she's just like Vinyl. Although, you know, not nearly as crazy. "Anyway, as I was saying. Vinyl and I left pretty soon after the accident. Did anything happen at the festival that we should know about?"

Sapphire placed a hoof to her muzzle. "Not that I can think of, Tavi-doll. After we recovered from that accident, we all just packed up and left. I'm sure they're checking the equipment to make sure this kinda thing doesn't happen again, and seeing that Vinyl came out on top, I doubt Slick Licks would want to postpone."

"Meh, I'd tell him to keep going, anyway," said Vinyl with a shrug. "I'd sooner pick up the accordion than let this awesome festival be cancelled on my account."

"Yeah, I hear that," said Sapphire. "Still, I'd probably track down Slick and let him know you're still kicking. Neon's probably worried about you, too."

Vinyl's smile vanished. "I'll be sure to make a note of that," she said. "Speaking of Neon, you didn't happen to get a chance to talk to him, did you?"

"I haven't spoken to him since I got here," said Sapphire with a shrug. "Why?"

"He told me everything checked out before we went on," said Vinyl. "There shouldn't have been any problems."

Sapphire knitted her brow. "Hmm. That does sound odd. What did he say about it?"

"Actually, when I went backstage to collect Vinyl, he wasn't there," I said. "Do you remember seeing him leave the stage at any point?"

"I didn't," said Sapphire. "But I was sitting next to Pan, and he told me that he saw Neon leave just before the accident happened. You should probably ask him about it."

"Will do," said Vinyl. "Thanks anyway, Sapphie."

"Not a problem," said Sapphire. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm meeting Ragtime for breakfast, and I don't want to keep him waiting. Toodles~."

With that, she went on over to the elevators.

"Well, this just got a whole lot weirder," mused Vinyl. "Neon left the stage before the feedback kicked in, but why would he do that if he didn't find anything wrong to begin with?"

That was indeed curious. However, it was too early to jump to conclusions. I happen to know that Neon Lights and Vinyl are good friends. It was highly unlikely that he was behind all this. Especially if he got the same death threat Vinyl and I received.

That's when I remembered something. I had neglected to tell Vinyl about Mare-Do-Well or anything else. Well, there was no real point in hiding it, was there?

"Vinyl, there's more I have to tell you about last night," I said.

"You mean how you were talking to yourself in the bathroom?" said Vinyl. "Yeah, what was up with that, Octy?"

"I, wasn't talking to myself," I said as our elevator arrived. "I'll tell you everything over breakfast, but let's just say for now that this is a lot bigger than just the two of us..."

Seeing Stars

April 9, 8:30 AM
Au Bon Pony
***

"Okay, let's see if I've got this right," said Vinyl after I had concluded my story. "This weirdo pony saves my life and then sneaks into our hotel room to give you peace of mind."

"Yes," I said.

"And now you're thinking that everyone performing at this year's festival got the same death threat we did."

"That's the working theory, yes," I said sheepishly, casting my gaze downward and fiddling with my danish.

Vinyl sighed. "Well, normally I'd tell you that you're just blowing this out of proportion, but after what happened last night, I'm inclined to believe you."

"Mmm," I said with a slight nod. Honestly, there was no real way to respond to that. I was glad that Vinyl wasn't just writing this off as me overreacting, but at the same time, I knew that this story was incredibly difficult to swallow. I wasn't sure if anypony would believe me.

"So, what's the plan, Octy?" asked Vinyl. "Are you just gonna let Mare-Do-Well do her thing and leave it at that?"

"Not a chance," I said, shaking my head. "If I'm right about this, then I need to take a stand against whoever is behind it. You know how much music means to me, Vinyl."

"You're preaching to the choir here, Octy," said Vinyl. "But I really hope you're not planning on going solo with this."

"Certainly not," I said. "This is too much for one pony to handle alone. Besides, I'm, still rather scared."

Vinyl placed a hoof atop my own. "Well, you don't need to worry 'bout that, Tavi. 'Cause I've got your back."

I looked up at Vinyl and saw that she was giving me a small smile. I, really have to admire how much strength and confidence she still has within her, even after someone tried to take her life. I couldn't help but smile back.

"Thank you, Vinyl," I said. "That really means a lot to me."

"Don't sweat it, Tavi. That's just how I roll," said Vinyl. "So, what's first on our agenda?"

"I think a good start would be finding out what exactly what happened during your set last night," I said. "We'll just figure out the rest as we go."

"Sounds good to me," said Vinyl, taking a big bite out of her bagel. "I might wanna check in with Slick Licks first, though. Y'know, to let him know I'm alright."

"That's probably for the best," I said as I sipped at my coffee. "By the by, who's scheduled to perform tonight?"

Vinyl took out her copy of the itinerary and read it over. "Hmm. Looks like it's gonna be Lyra."

"We'll need to talk to her, too," I said. "If she did get the same death threat, we need to warn her."

"That wouldn't change anything, Tavi," said Vinyl, shaking her head. "Lyra's not gonna back out of something like this. Heck, I doubt any of the musicians are gonna back out."

"True," I said. "Either they still think the death threat is a joke, or they'll take the stage anyway just to spit in the face of whoever is threatening them."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," said Vinyl. "Man, that Mare-Do-Well is sure gonna have her hooves full."

"One thing at a time, Vinyl," I said tersely. "I'm curious about this Mysterious Mare-Do-Well pony too, but she's not as important right now."

"No need to get testy, Tavi," said Vinyl defensively. "I'm just saying that she must have a lot of guts to think she can save everyone here by herself."

That, was a good point. But again, it didn't have much bearing on our current situation. Nevertheless, I made a mental note of it.

"Well, first thing first," I said. "We need answers as to what happened last night."

"Right. Neon's got some major explaining to do," said Vinyl with a snort.

Just then, our conversation was interrupted by a loud quarrel going on a few tables over.

"I'm telling you, she's not interested!"

"Well, last I checked, you're not her manager. In fact, she doesn't even have a manager."

I recognized one of the ponies in the debate; the other not so much. The first was an Earth Pony mare named Bon-Bon. She runs a confectionary shop in Ponyville, and she lives with Lyra Heartstrings. My only real connection to her is through Lyra; otherwise I don't know all that much about her. The pony she was arguing with was a unicorn stallion wearing a blazer and a pair of sunglasses with star-shaped frames. His Cutie Mark depicted several shooting stars arching upward. My best guess was that he was some kind of talent scout.

"Look, pal. I don't care what you say. Lyra doesn't need this," said Bon-Bon firmly. "She's fine where she is."

"Really now?" said the unicorn, lowering his shades. "She's fine performing for pennies out in the boonies? I've heard her music, Ms. Bon-Bon. She's got something special. She's got what it takes to become a star!"

"If you think for one minute that I'm gonna let Lyra sell herself out, you're crazy!" Bon-Bon shouted.

"Sell herself— Ms. Bon-Bon, I'm appalled!" said the unicorn indignantly. "I would never dream of doing that to such a talented mare! True stardom comes from talent, not appeasement."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you," Bon-Bon snarled.

"Well, of course you're skeptical," said the unicorn. "But that's because you don't understand what it means to be a star. Ms. Heartstrings has a lot of potential. She deserves so much more than what she has. And I can make her dreams come true."

"That would require knowing what her dreams are, dock-hole," Bon-Bon spat.

The unicorn was quick to fire back. "Oh, and I suppose you know."

"I know more about Lyra than you," said Bon-Bon, refusing to back down.

"Nevertheless, I feel it's best for me to speak to her myself," said the unicorn.

"Over my dead body," said Bon-Bon.

The unicorn took out a handkerchief and used it to clean his shades. "You're being frightfully unfair here, Ms. Bon-Bon. Both to me and to Ms. Heartstrings. All I ask is for one conversation with her. If she says no, then you'll never hear from me again. Sound fair?"

There was a pause as Bon-Bon stroked her chin in thought.

"Let me talk about it with her first," said she.

"I'll abide by that," said the unicorn. "But just keep in mind that in the end, this should be her decision. Good day, Ms. Bon-Bon."

With that, the unicorn got up, gave Bon-Bon his card, and walked away. Bon-Bon quickly tore it up and threw it away.

"Well, that was, interesting," I said.

"To say the least," said Vinyl. "I didn't know Lyra was even popular enough to get pestered by talent scouts."

"Do you think we should ask Lyra about it?" I inquired.

"Maybe," said Vinyl. "Hang on a sec."

Before I could inquire as to what she was planning, Vinyl walked over to the trash bin and used her magic to scoop up the ripped ID card. I smacked my face with my hoof.

"Vinyl, why did you do that?" I groaned as she got back to our table.

"I wanted to know who that guy was," said Vinyl with a shrug. "Besides, I see detectives do that all the time."

"What, dig through trash?"

"No, look everywhere they can for clues."

I let out another groan. "Vinyl, we don't even know if this is related to anything! Besides, can't you be a bit more subtle about this? Ponies are going to look at us like we're crazy!"

"Well, that's how you look at me half the time, so I'm not really gonna notice anything different, anyway," said Vinyl with a laugh.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose with my hoof. I don't know why I even bother; I really don't. I mean, you'd think I would've learned by now that arguing with Vinyl rarely gets me anywhere.

"You're incorrigible," I sighed.

"I wouldn't be me if I wasn't," Vinyl retorted, looking over the ripped-up card. "Hmm. I can't really make this out. The only thing I'm getting is the guy's name. Hey Octy, you ever heard of somepony named Star Maker?"

"Why are you asking me?" I said. "You know that Frederick usually deals with booking our performances. I wouldn't..."

I trailed off as something clicked in my mind. "Wait."

"What is it, Tavi?" asked Vinyl.

"Vinyl, do you think my ensemble should know about this?"

Vinyl shrugged. "I don't think it could hurt to tell 'em. Well, unless BB freaks out. Then everypony in Manehattan is gonna know."

I gave Vinyl a dirty look, but honestly, I saw her point. Beauty Brass is a good friend, but she can't keep a secret to save her life. And if whoever was behind this knew that I was trying to solve this mystery, I'd be in a lot of trouble.

"Well, I'll have to think about it," I said. "For now, let's see what they're up to. I figure we'll meet them at the festival like last time."

"I'm all for that," said Vinyl. "We should probably head over to Lincolt Center anyway and get this gravy train rolling."

She then got up and struck a pose. "Come along, my dear Octy! The game is afoot!"

Oh, sweet Celestia. "Vinyl?"

"What?"

"Don't ever do that again."

Vinyl chuckled. "No promises," she said. "Now c'mon, let's get moving!"

With that, she bounded out the door, just as excitable as ever. I let out a deep sigh as I followed her, doing my best to ignore the looks of confusion we were getting from everypony else. Ugh, I wish she would be more subtle about this. Otherwise, I think the secret will get out long before Beauty Brass gets wind of what we're doing.

Everyone's a Critic

April 9, 9:35 AM
Lincolt Center
Main Floor
***

"All I'm saying is that if our performance was first, that 'accident' wouldn't have happened!"

It appears that there are quite a few ponies in a rather poor mood this morning. As soon as Vinyl and I arrived at Lincolt Center, we stumbled upon another argument. This one was between Slick Licks and my colleague, Symphony.

"Hey, hey. Chillax, kitten," said Slick Licks calmly. "There's no need to tell the whole world about your little grievance."

"'Little' grievance?! Are you joshing me?!" Symphony screamed. "You got some of the greatest talent in Equestria to perform at this year's Manehattan Music Festival, and your headliner is that, that noise that two-bit hacks miraculously pass off as music?!"

Oh, yes. I, neglected to mention something about Symphony. She's a real music purist. Anything that doesn't meet her standards is just considered "noise" in her book. I've lost count of how many music debates I've had with her, and sadly, not all of them were friendly.

"You really don't get it, do you, kitten?" said Slick Licks, still playing it cool. "This festival is for all types of music, not just the ones you like."

"That wasn't music, good sir," Symphony huffed. "That was a collection of beeps and clicks masquerading as such. And what's more, that climax was a pointless stunt that nearly made everypony deaf!"

"That wasn't a 'stunt,' kitten," said Slick Licks firmly.

"Sure it wasn't," Symphony scoffed. "Seriously, what kind of host are you? Don't you have a screening process for this kind of thing?! Can't you tell the difference between a true artist and a delinquent who's sick in the head?!"

"Okay, that one was uncalled for," Vinyl told me. "I mean, who says I can't be both?"

I stifled a laugh. Vinyl might have a big ego, but she doesn't mind ponies taking her down a peg (after all, I do that all the time). But even though it didn't seem to bother Vinyl, I felt that Symphony was out of line. Slick Licks appeared to share my sentiments.

"Kitten, that 'delinquent' you're talking about might be in critical condition as we speak," he said. "Show some respect."

"He has a point, Symphony."

Symphony shot a glare at her partner, Concerto, who was cowering behind her. I had to sigh and shake my head at that. Symphony really doesn't like to be proven wrong. Not that she considers herself infallible or anything; it's just that her pride won't allow it. Some ponies (mainly Vinyl) say that I'm stuck up and fussy, but at least I have the humility to acknowledge my mistakes. Sadly, Symphony doesn't have that. It doesn't help that Concerto almost never has the spine to correct her, poor fellow.

"Think we should step in, Octy?" Vinyl asked.

"I, don't think that's such a good idea, Vinyl," I said, knitting my brow. "Symphony's already in a bad mood. I wouldn't want to make it worse."

"So? She's always in a bad mood," said Vinyl with a shrug.

Just so you know, that's an exaggeration. I've talked to Symphony plenty of times before. She can be pleasant when she wants to be. At the very least, she's mature enough not to throw a temper tantrum like a spoiled foal when she doesn't get her way. Except for this particular instance, apparently.

"Vinyl, if we interfere, I have a bad feeling that it's going to end poorly," I said. "Let's just let them finish up, and then we'll let Slick Licks know you're okay."

Vinyl simply shrugged and turned her attention back to Symphony and Slick Licks.

"Look, I'm not saying that I'm happy Scratch got hurt, alright?" said Symphony. "What happened was tragic. There's no debating that. But it was also her own damn fault for thinking it was a good idea."

"I really don't think it was intentional, Symphony," said Concerto meekly.

"It was no less intentional than that first bit of garbage pretending to be a song," Symphony spat. "Seriously, Scratch has no sense of professionalism. I know she made that for the sole purpose of embarrassing Octavia."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vinyl's eye twitch. I swallowed. This was about to get nasty.

"You mind repeating that?" Vinyl snarled, making a beeline to Symphony.

Symphony turned, and a smug grin appeared on her face. "Oh, Scratch. What a pleasant surprise. We were just talking about you."

"I heard," said Vinyl, folding her forelegs. "Now, what's this about you thinking that first song was simply to embarrass Octy?"

"Oh, don't act like it's not true," said Symphony, her voice slick with venom. "Anypony with half a brain could figure that out."

"Actually, I kinda liked it," said Concerto. "It was..."

Symphony shot him a glare, and he immediately clammed up.

"Look, I get that you don't like my music, and that's fine," said Vinyl. "But if you think I did all that hard work just to humiliate Tavi, then you didn't really listen to it."

"Pah! As if I would listen to any of your dreck," Symphony scoffed. "Oh sure, you put up a nice little illusion with those strings, but that can only do so much to cover up the fact that it was nothing but noise with some humiliating dialogue sprinkled in for good measure."

Wow, way to miss the point, Symphony. I almost had to wonder if we were listening to the same song last night. I mean, it was embarrassing at the beginning, but that introduction is what made the rest of the piece so powerful in its true message.

"I'll have you know that I composed that song with Octy in mind," said Vinyl, standing her ground.

"Yes, and I'm sure she appreciates it," said Symphony sarcastically.

That was about all I could take. Symphony's entitled to her opinion, but she's not entitled to mine. I stepped forward.

"As a matter of fact, I did appreciate it," I said firmly. "It was one of the most beautiful songs I ever heard from Vinyl, and I couldn't picture a better opening song for this year's festival."

Symphony's jaw dropped. "Y-you actually liked that?!" she squeaked.

"Yes," I said with a firm nod. "And I'm not ashamed to admit it, either."

That put Symphony in her place. After staring at me like an idiot for a few seconds, she cleared her throat and straightened out her bow-tie.

"W-well, maybe you think that now," she said. "But once you hear our performance, you'll be eating those words. Isn't that right, Concerto?"

Concerto swallowed. "Um, actually, I think that song's a tough act to..."

"Isn't that right, Concerto~?" Symphony repeated forcefully.

Concerto swallowed again. "Um, yes. Th-that's right," he stammered.

None of us were buying it. Slick Licks raised an eyebrow.

"You'd better be ready to put your music where your mouth is, kitten," he said. "But I should also tell you that this ain't a competition."

"I never said it was," said Symphony. "All I'm saying is that you'll regret putting noise before art. Concerto and I should've been first on the docket, and we're gonna prove it. Come along, Concerto. We have a lot of practicing to do."

With that, she marched off in a huff.

"I-I'm terribly sorry about this," said Concerto with a bow before hurrying after his partner. Slick Licks sighed and shook his head.

"That pony's so square she's almost a box," he muttered.

"Tell me about it," said Vinyl. "She actually makes Octy look like me in comparison."

I'm actually not going to dispute that, because in truth, I think she's right.

"Well, that's the way it goes, I guess," said Slick Licks with a shrug. "Good to see you're still swinging, Scratch. That was a pretty nasty accident last night."

"Yeah, well. I don't go down that easy, Slick," said Vinyl. "And for the record, I have no idea what happened."

"Didn't figure that you did, kitten," said Slick Licks, furrowing his brow. "I'm having the tech boys look over your equipment to find out what the problem was. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. I'd like to know that myself," said Vinyl. "Did you talk to Neon?"

"Haven't heard from him since last night," said Slick Licks with a shrug.

"Let me know when you see him, alright? I've got a few words to say to him," said Vinyl.

"Will do," Slick Licks said with a nod. "If you want, you can give the tech boys a hoof while you're waiting for Neon."

"I can't think of anything better to do right now," said Vinyl with a shrug. "You wanna come with, Tavi?"

"Thank you, but I don't know if I'd be of much help," I said. "Besides, I still have to practice with my ensemble."

Slick Licks tilted his head. "If that's so, then where's your cello, kitten?"

I quickly checked myself, and found that I had indeed left my cello in my hotel room. I smacked my forehead.

"Ugh, Celestia dammit," I muttered.

Slick Licks chuckled. "Eh, don't worry about it, kitten. I'm sure we've got a spare or something floating around. If you want, I'll look into it for you."

"Thanks, but you don't have to do that on my account," I said. "I can always just go back to my room and fetch it."

"Your call, kitten," said Slick Licks with a shrug. "But just so you know, the offer's still on the table. In the meantime, just head on upstairs and enjoy the festival. I think we all need time to unwind after what happened."

Well, he couldn't be more right about that.

"Well, thank you all the same," I said. "And if I may say so, I'm glad the festival's still up and running."

Slick Licks smiled. "You're not alone there, kitten. Catch ya on the flip side."

"Right," I said. "See you around."

With that, Vinyl and I left Slick Licks and took the elevator upstairs.

Fine Country Folk

April 9, 9:41 AM
Lincolt Center
Convention Floor
***

It was still rather early in the morning, so I didn't expect to see many ponies on the convention floor. When we reached our floor and the elevator doors opened, I was quickly proven wrong. It wasn't crowded by any stretch of the imagination, but there were still plenty of ponies bustling about doing this that and the other. Some were putting on small performances, while others were having lively conversations. I'm not sure whether to be happy or worried about this. I see why Slick Licks would want to keep the festival going, and I share his sentiments. However, I also know that there's someone aiming to kill everypony here for practicing their art.

"Well, I'd better go check on my equipment," said Vinyl. "I'll let you know if I find anything."

"Right, sure," I said, dipping my voice. "But please, don't let everypony know that we're investigating this."

"I, wasn't planning on it, Octy," said Vinyl with a shrug. "Anyway, seeya!"

Before I could say anything else, Vinyl was off like a shot. I sighed. While Vinyl can be trusted with a secret, subtlety is not her strong suit. I really hope she knows what she's doing. Actually, I wonder that every day. It's honestly difficult to tell with her.

"Tavia!"

No sooner had Vinyl run off than I was subsequently greeted by none other than Fiddlesticks. Although she looked rather cheery, I could detect a bit of concern in her voice.

"Oh, hello Fiddle," I said.

"Hey," said Fiddlesticks, brushing the back of her foreleg and casting her eyes downward. "Listen, um, how are ya holdin' up?"

I bit my lip. I was planning on getting Fiddlesticks in on this, but I couldn't tell her about my suspicions in public.

"I'm, still a bit shaken," I said. "Although Vinyl's okay, thank Celestia."

"She is? Aw, phew," said Fiddlesticks, breathing a sigh of relief. "Ah was worried she had t'go to the hospital or sumthin'."

"No, she's fine. Although she has no idea what happened last night," I said.

"Yeah, that couldn't 'ave been intentional," Fiddlesticks mused. "Still, that set sure was sumthin'. Ah mean, did ya hear that first song? Hoo-wee~! Now that's how ya open a music festival!"

"I couldn't agree more," I said with a smile. "Although to be honest, I didn't know you liked that kind of music."

"Hey, music's music, Tavia," Fiddlesticks said with a shrug. "Ah jus' know what Ah like."

You know, it's things like this that remind me that Fiddlesticks is indeed my twin sister. Otherwise, we really do live in two separate worlds.

"Actually, it's quite refreshing to hear that," I said. "I just had a bit of a, discussion with Symphony. It turns out she wasn't too keen on Vinyl's set."

Fiddlesticks stroked her chin in thought. "Symphony, Symphony... Isn't she one of them violinists scheduled to perform?"

"Yes. She's, also a bit of a music snob," I said. "Trust me, Fiddle. While she's very talented, I don't think you two would get along at all."

"Well, that's a shame," said Fiddlesticks. "I thought it'd be nice to chat up a violinist, what with me bein' a fiddle player an' all. Sure am glad Kazooie an' Pitch Perfect ain't like that."

Just then, her expression lit up like a Hearth's Warming tree. "Speakin' of which, y'all plannin' on doin' anythin' right now?"

"Not exactly," I said. "Why?"

"Well, why don't Ah introduce ya to Kazooie an' Pitch Perfect?" suggested Fiddlesticks. "Ah already told 'em all about ya, an' they'd really like to meet ya in person. At least Pitch does; Kazooie's got other stuff on his mind. This is his first time in the big city, y'know."

"I see," said I. "Well, I'd be delighted to meet them."

"Alright!" Fiddlesticks cheered. "C'mon, they're waitin' in the studio!"

Fiddlesticks immediately took off, and I was right at her heels. While I still had the mystery in the back of my mind, I figured it was best to take things as the came. After all, it would look rather silly if I spent the entire festival fretting over something that nopony else really knew about.

***
April 9, 9:57 AM
Lincolt Center
Performance Studio B
***

"Hey there, Octavia! Fancy seeing you here."

When we arrived at the studio, I was greeted by somepony I didn't expect to be there: Lyra Heartstrings. I believe I mentioned her a few times before already. She's a minstrel in Ponyville, and she's actually a good friend of mine, as well as a fan of my work. I've heard her play while she was on tour (in the, loosest sense of the phrase), and she is perhaps one of the best lyrists in Equestria. She was sitting on a chair off to the side and waving at me.

"I could actually say the same thing, Lyra," I said, returning her wave. "I thought this studio was occupied."

"Mmm? Oh, I'm not getting in the way of anything," said Lyra. "I'm just hanging out with my fellow Ponyville musicians."

She pointed at two unfamiliar ponies standing in the center of the room. One was a serious-looking brown stallion wearing a tall blue hat and a yellow bandana. He had a piece of straw in his mouth and a banjo in his hooves. The other was a blue mare that looked suspiciously like Beauty Brass. She had a golden yellow mane, a Cutie Mark depicting a silver eighth-note, and she wore a red stetson with a flower in it as well as a harness holding a harmonica.

"Tavia, these here are Kazooie an' Pitch Perfect; the premier bluegrass musicians of Ponyville," said Fiddlesticks. "Fellas, this here is mah sister Octavia."

The stallion looked at me, then over at Fiddlesticks, then back at me.

"Fiddle says you play the cello," he grumbled.

"Yes, that's correct." I said.

"Then why's your Cutie Mark a treble clef like hers is?"

I, actually get this question a lot. Especially from ponies meeting me for the first time. Truth be told, the confusion is understandable, considering a cello's range.

"Well, actually, I'm proficient in all sorts of string instruments," I said. "I just, happen to prefer the cello is all."

"Huh. Interestin'," said the stallion. "I can relate, actually. Ponies always wonder why I play the banjo if my name's Kazooie. Fact is I jus' play both the banjo and the kazoo."

"I see," said I. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to your performance at the festival."

Kazooie raised an eyebrow. "Y'are? I didn't know fancy ponies like you listened to our stuff."

"Do ya have to be so blunt about it, Kazooie?" the mare with the harmonica scolded. She then turned to me. "A thousand pardons, Ms. Octavia. Kazooie here doesn't know how to deal with city folk."

"It's, quite alright, Miss, Perfect, was it?" I said.

"Call me Pitch," said Pitch Perfect. "Ms. Perfect makes me sound like some high falutin' bigwig who's too big for her britches."

"Right, sorry," I said. "Anyway, I enjoy all sorts of music, although I still prefer classical."

"Is that right?" said Kazooie thoughtfully.

"Indeed," I said with a nod.

Kazooie's lips curled into a thin smile. "Yep, she's yer sister alright, Fiddle," he said with a snicker. "Sorry I misjudged you there, Ms. Octavia."

"Don't worry about it. I understand," I said. "So, you're both from Ponyville?"

"Sure are," said Pitch. "We were actually surprised when we were invited to perform at this here festival. We're pretty small-time compared to some of the other ponies here." She then stifled a chuckle. "Really small-time, actually."

"Oh? How so?" I asked.

"Kazooie and Pitch have only performed in Ponyville before this," said Fiddlesticks. "It's one of the reasons Ah haven't officially joined up with 'em. Ah like the freedom of travelin' around."

"And sleepin' next to skunk dens, apparently," added Kazooie.

Fiddlesticks gave Kazooie a dirty look. "You're jus' never gonna let that go, are ya?"

"Don't see no reason to," said Kazooie with a shrug.

"Alright, knock it off you two," said Pitch with a sigh. "So, Ms. Octavia. Fiddle says you've got your own band, too."

"Actually, it's an ensemble," Lyra corrected.

Kazooie blinked. "A what?"

"An ensemble," Lyra repeated.

Kazooie snorted. "Beggin' your pardon, Lyra, but I don't speak 'fancy.'"

"Look, that's just what she likes to call it. Don't argue with her," said Lyra.

Kazooie sighed and turned back to me. "Eh, you city slickers gotta have a fancy word for everythin', doncha?"

"I, suppose," I said. Really, you can't answer a question like that without coming off as insulting. Kazooie seems like a bright fellow, but I can only imagine how uncomfortable he is; being surrounded by a culture he barely knows. "Anyway, yes, I do perform with an ensemble. They're all very talented and very good friends of mine."

"Yeah, they're a nice bunch," said Fiddlesticks. "Had the pleasure of havin' dinner with 'em last night. Ah think you'd like that Frederick guy, Kazooie. You two have a lot in common."

"I'll take your word for it," said Kazooie. "So, Fiddle. You ready to practice?"

"Ready as Ah'll ever be," said Fiddlesticks, taking out her violin. "How 'bout y'all stick around an' watch, Tavia?"

"Sounds good," I said, taking a seat next to Lyra. As Kazooie and her band prepped their instruments, Lyra turned to me.

"Hey, could you let Vinyl know that she rocked last night?" she asked. "Also, give her my well wishes."

"Actually, she's doing just fine, thank Celestia," I said. "You can go tell her yourself if you want."

Lyra brushed the back of her mane sheepishly. "Actually, I'm kinda hiding out in here."

I tilted my head. "Hiding? From what?"

"It's a who, actually," said Lyra with a pout. "Some talent scout wants to sign me up for a contract. Says he'll make me a star or some such crap."

I then remembered the argument Bon-Bon had with that talent scout a few hours ago at Au Bon Pony. "You're not interested, I take it?"

"I'll admit, it's kinda tempting," said Lyra. "But still, I know if I go through with this, it'll upset Bon-Bon. I don't wanna hurt her, y'know?"

"Well, if you don't feel that strongly about it, you can just say no," I said.

"Yeah, that's not gonna do any good. I already tried last night when he first came to me," Lyra huffed. "He can't take 'no' for an answer."

Just then, I realized that something didn't make sense. I remember the talent scout telling Bon-Bon that he didn't have a chance to talk to Lyra. But here Lyra was, saying the exact opposite. Quite curious.

"Are you sure you told him?" I inquired.

"Positive," said Lyra. "Bons can vouch for me."

Odd. If that were the case, why didn't Bon-Bon bring it up in the argument? Mmm, maybe I'm overthinking it. It's not really my business, and despite what Vinyl says, I have my doubts that it connects to the death threats.

"Well, I hope you're not planning on just hiding in here and waiting for him to go away," I said. "This isn't like you, Lyra."

"I know. I just need a moment to think," said Lyra. "I gotta come up with a way to say I'm not interested without clocking that jackass in the face."

Just then, the door to the studio burst open, and what appeared to be a drunken donkey with a flask around his neck stumbled in. Yes, I'm dead serious. I know this sounds like some sort of comedy sketch, but this is actually happening. My life can get pretty crazy sometimes.

"Um, no offense," said Lyra, who was just as confused as the rest of us.

"A fench?" slurred the donkey as he got to his feet. "I thought thish wash a mushic feshtivel. Why are ya ashking me about a fench?"

"Uh, never mind," said Lyra. "Sheesh, what's up with this guy?"

"Hey, y'all lost or sumethin'?" asked Fiddlesticks. "'Cause, y'know, we're tryin' to practice here."

"Losht? Nah I'm-I'm good," said the donkey, swaying back and forth. "J-jusht gotta find, you know, that guy. The guy with the, flutey thingie."

"That's, not a whole lot to go on, bucko," said Kazooie. "Could ya be more specific?"

"You know, that guy," said the donkey. "H-he'sh got theesh hoovesh..."

"Everyone here has hooves," I said, rolling my eyes.

"No, he'sh only got two of 'em," said the donkey.

I slapped my forehead. This wasn't getting anywhere.

"Silenus! Silenus? Draaat it aaall, where's you run off to this tiiime?"

The donkey spun around, and we were suddenly in the presence of a rather peeved-looking satyr. I recognized him right away. The brown fur, his short billy goat beard, and the telltale panpipes he wore around his neck could only mean one thing: It was none other than Pan, the great minstrel.

"Oh~. Pan! Th-there you are," said the donkey. "Sh-shorry about interrupting yer practiching, folksh. I got kinda losht."

Pan sighed and shook his head. "Silenus, I thought you promised me you wouldn't overindulge while we were aaat the festivaaal."

"I-I shwear, Pan! I-I haven't taken a shingle drink shinche we got here," said Silenus.

If he's telling the truth there, then I'm the queen of Prance. I know a drunk pony when I see one; I'm pretty sure I can recognize drunk donkey, too.

Then, something else came to mind. I remember that Sapphire Shores mentioned Pan seeing something during Vinyl's set last night. This was probably going to be my best chance to find out what he knew.

"If you keep aaacting like this, I won't let you aaaccompaaany me here," said Pan sternly. "Come aaalong now. Let's get you some coffee. A thousaaand paaardons, everypony."

"Ain't yer fault," said Fiddlesticks. "Jus', if he's gonna do that again, make sure he knocks first."

"Or, y'know, doesn't do it at all?" said Pitch, giving Fiddlesticks a look.

Fiddlesticks chuckled and shrugged. "Ah'd be lyin' if Ah said Ah didn't find it a little funny."

I think Fiddlesticks is alone on that one, but only because Vinyl's not here.

"I'll, keep thaaat in mind," said Pan. "Come aaalong, Silenus."

"Mmm. C-coming," mumbled Silenus as he staggered after his friend.

"Oooookay then," said Kazooie. "Let's start this properly, shall we?"

"Sure thing, Kazooie," said Pitch, blowing into her harmonica.

"Right-o, then," said Fiddlesticks, raising her bow and tapping her foot. "A-one, a-two, a-one-two-three-four..."

And with that, they launched into their practicing session. I decided to stick around and listen instead of immediately running after Pan. I didn't want to be rude to Fiddlesticks, after all, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in hearing them play. Besides, it shouldn't be that hard to find a satyr in a festival full of ponies.

...

I just jinxed myself, didn't I? Ugh, I bloody hope not. That's the last thing I need at this juncture.

Exclusive Interview

April 9, 10:46 AM
Lincolt Center
Convention Floor
***

Well, the good news is that I didn't end up jinxing myself. After leaving Fiddlesticks and her band, Pan was not hard to find. He was standing by a table serving coffee while having a chat with Sapphire Shores. Silenus was there as well, although he seemed to be rather distracted. I walked up to them and cleared my throat.

"Um, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting anything?" I asked.

Sapphire flashed me a warm smile. "Not at all, Tavi-doll. I was just talking to Pan here about Vinyl's magnificent set last night."

"Yes, it waaas indeed something," said Pan with a sage nod. "Although one haaas to wonder why her performance ended so, abruuuptly."

"I'd like to know that myself," I said, folding my ears back and brushing my foreleg. "Vinyl's helping the tech crew look into it right now."

"W-wait wait wait," said Silenus. "Sh-she'sh shtill alive?"

Pan rolled his eyes. "Pay atteeention, you drunken soood. Sapphire waaas just telling us thaaat."

"Oh, right. I-I knew that," said Silenus.

I hate to jump to conclusions, but something tells me that Silenus isn't the sharpest tool in the shed. At least when he's been drinking. Speaking of which, who gets this drunk so early in the morning? This poor fellow might have a serious problem. Ah well, it's not really my affair. Besides, something more important just came to mind.

"Oh, forgive my manners, Mr. Pan. I didn't introduce myself," I said, clearing my throat. "My name is..."

"Octaviaaa Melody, I presume?" said Pan, finishing my thought. "Chaaarmed to meet you."

Methinks my reputation precedes me. Then again, I'm not exactly a small-time musician myself.

"Likewise," I said. "I must say, I'm greatly looking forward to your performance with Sapphire Shores. It's sure to be like nothing I've ever heard before."

"Hmm. I wouldn't saaay that," said Pan. "After aaalll, your friend Vinyl Scratch seemed to have the same idea we did."

"You mean with combining two different styles of music?"

"Precisely," said Pan, twirling his billy goat beard around the end of his finger. "It appears that great miiinds think alike."

"'Great' is not exactly how I'd describe Vinyl's mind. 'Insane' is more appropriate," I said. "But still, I will admit that her set last night was nothing short of a stroke of genius."

Pan bleated out a laugh. "Ms. Melody, even the greatest of minds can appear insaaane to everyone else. Isn't that right, Silenus?"

"Huh, wha?" Silenus mumbled, still appearing to be distracted. "Shorry, Pan. I kinda blanked there."

"Case in point," said Pan. "Silenus can actually be raaather insightful when he's sober."

"Mmm. You don't say," I said. "I take it you've known him for a while?"

"Ever since I got staaarted as a minstrel," said Pan with a slight smirk. "It's actually amaaazing how he can get distracted by the slightest thing and yet still be able to follow me everywhere I go."

I, can't say that I'd be entirely comfortable with that. But, to each his own, I suppose. It might be a minstrel thing, now that I think about it. After all, Lyra doesn't mind Bon-Bon following her around.

"You're lucky we're not at K-COLT right now, Pan," said Sapphire with a snicker. "I can just imagine Vinyl peppering you with embarrassing questions concerning your relationship with your friend there."

You would think that she was exaggerating, but you'd be wrong. Vinyl has very little respect for the guests that come onto our radio show. On the plus side, those that agree to be on the show know what they're getting into, so they have no reason to complain. I can't say that I'm a big fan of this fact, but I certainly tolerate it a lot more than when the show first got started.

Pan chuckled at Sapphire's comment. "I say let her try. You'll find that satyrs are veeery hard to embarrass."

I, couldn't say anything to that without sounding incredibly rude and prejudiced, so I decided to change the subject. After all, there was a reason I wanted to speak with Pan in the first place.

"Um, actually, Sapphire told me that you saw something last night during Vinyl's set," I said.

Pan raised an eyebrow. "Why would you be interested in thaaat, Ms. Melody?" he inquired.

"Morbid curiosity," I said with a shrug. "Plus, I'm sure Vinyl would like to know that, too."

Pan furrowed his brow and twirled his billy goat beard around his finger. "There's not muuuch to tell, really. All I saaaw was that Vinyl's partner left the stage before that horrible noise occurred. Silenus caaan vouch for me on this one."

Silenus's ears perked up. "Huh? Vouch for who on the what now?"

Pan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Silenus, would you miiind paying attention? It's rude to ignore others in the middle of a conversaaation."

"Sorry," said Silenus, sounding slightly more sober. "I'm just trying to figure out what that shadow is."

"What shadow?" asked Sapphire.

"There's this shadow that's been floating around or something," said Silenus.

"Where?" asked Pan, folding his arms.

Silenus stared blankly at Pan. "Uuuuuuuh... Crap, I forgot."

Pan sighed. "And this is why you shouldn't overinduuulge," he scolded. "Anyway, I was referring to what happened laaast night during the performance."

"Oh, rightrightright," said Silenus. "Yeah, we saw that Neon guy leave before everything went crazy."

I, honestly don't know why Pan needed Silenus to vouch for him. He wasn't exactly helping his case any. However, I didn't see any reason to doubt his word. It still didn't make a lick of sense, though. I figure that Neon himself will probably have the full story.

"Well, I'll be sure to let Vinyl know," I said. "Thank you, Mr. Pan."

"Merely a trifle, Ms. Meeelody," said Pan with a bow. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Sapphire and I haaave to discuss our performance."

"Right, of course," I said, returning his bow. I was about to take my leave when something caught my attention. It was Silenus, staring intently at something behind me. I turned around to see what he was looking at, and I was quite surprised by what I saw.

A familiar silhouette was formed on the far wall. It was the same form as the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well pony I met the night before. What was she doing here?

"You see it too, huh?"

Silenus's words caused me to jump. He really put me on the spot there. I could feel the beads of sweat form on my brow as I tried to think of something to say. Sapphire Shores is one thing; I trust her. But I barely know Pan, and Silenus is, well, odd. Yes, let's go with that. Look, the point is I couldn't share this mystery with everyone here. It might give the assailant some, incentive.

"Um, I-I don't know what you're talking about," I said.

Sapphire sighed. "Anypony ever tell you that you're a terrible liar, Tavi-doll?"

Am I really that much of an open book? I let out a sigh of my own.

"I, just thought I saw something," I said. "It's probably just my mind playing tricks on me. I've been pretty rattled since Vinyl's experience last night."

I wasn't sure if Sapphire believed me or not, but thankfully, she didn't call me out on it. "Maybe you need to unwind a bit before you snap, Tavi-doll."

"Th-thanks, but I'll be fine," I said. Besides, I can't afford to do that right now, I added mentally.

Silenus grunted. "Forgive me, madam. I, jumped to conclusions."

"I-it's fine," I said. "I'd, better go check on Vinyl. I'll see you later, I suppose."

With that, I hastily took my leave. That was far too close. I have to be more careful. B-but not paranoid. No, I can't jump at everything I see. That won't help. Let's be rational here. I have Vinyl's support, and it seems that Mare-Do-Well pony isn't going anywhere anytime soon. That means I'm safe, right? I just, have to follow my own advice and be more subtle about the whole thing. Yeah.

...

Actually, knowing me, that's easier said than done. Like I said, it's in my nature to worry. But that same worry is why I have to do this. Oh Celestia, give me strength...

Testing 1 2 3

April 9, 11:07 AM
Lincolt Center
The Whinnyton Maresalis Theater
***

When I arrived at the theater, I was quite puzzled to find that there were no security personnel guarding the entrance. I assume that the technicians would require privacy to carry out their work, plus the thing they're investigating could potentially be dangerous. I'm no expert, but this seems to be a major breech in security protocol. I was about to go inform Slick Licks about this development when I heard a familiar voice call out to me.

"Oh, hey Octy."

I turned around, and there was Vinyl Scratch. Her coat was all mussed up and dirty, and her mane was frazzled. It looks like she's been working hard to find this problem. Her expression was hard to read, though. Normally, I can always tell what Vinyl is feeling, but not this time.

"Did you find anything yet?" I asked.

"Nope, nada," said Vinyl with a sigh. "We've been going over all of the equipment with a fine-tooth comb. There isn't anything wrong with, well, anything."

That didn't sit well with me, and I could tell it didn't sit well with Vinyl, either. "Have you tested the equipment itself?"

"That's what I wanna do, but Mike Check says it's too dangerous," said Vinyl.

"Mike Check?"

"The head tech guy around here," Vinyl explained. "I understand the dude's concern and all, but right now, we're coming up with zilch. We don't really have any other options here."

That is indeed quite the quandary. I honestly don't know what I would do in this situation. Then again, I know nothing about working with electronics. I've used Vinyl's sound board once or twice on our show, but I never got it to do what I wanted it to. It's just so, fiddly.

"Well, I'm not sure I would be of much help there," I said. "Normally I'd say it would be best to err on the side of caution, but in this case..."

"Yo, Scratch! Are ya helping or what?!"

A sharp voice interrupted my thought. Trotting up from behind Vinyl was a black unicorn wearing a vest that almost blended in with his coat. He had a raven black mane, an orange headset, and a Cutie Mark depicting said headset.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be there in a sec, Mike," said Vinyl with a dismissive wave of her hoof. She didn't even bother to turn around to address him. He, didn't take that well (not that I expected him to).

"Scratch, this isn't the time to be horsing around," said Mike sternly. "You said you wanted to figure out what went wrong last night, right?"

"And that hasn't changed," said Vinyl simply, finally turning around. "Which is why I think we should run a test on the equipment."

"Scratch, you know why we can't do that," said Mike. "There's no telling what will happen if we fire up those speakers."

Vinyl deadpanned. "Mike, we're dealing with audio equipment here, not a bomb."

This coming from the mare who almost died last night. However, I have a feeling that's her frustration talking more than anything else. I could hear it in her voice. I sighed.

"Vinyl, I think he has a point," I said.

"I know, I know," Vinyl groaned. "But what else are we gonna do, Tavi? I looked through those wires at least five times, and all I found was bupkis."

Mike raised an eyebrow at me. "Who's she?" he asked.

"Oh, forgive me," I said, clearing my throat. "My name is Octavia Melody. I play the cello for the..."

"Wasn't asking for your life's story, ma'am," said Mike curtly, cutting across me. "Anyway, what are you doing here? This place is off-limits."

Well, that threw me for a loop. If that's true, why aren't there any security guards posted outside?

"Don't worry, Mike. Octy's cool," said Vinyl. "She's just checking up on me, right Octy?"

"Um, yes. That's right," I said with a nod.

Mike knitted his brow. "Hmm. Alright, I'll let the crew know that you have clearance. But don't make a habit out of this, Scratch," he said. He then tapped his headset with his hoof. "Listen up, guys! We've got one more pony joining us. Goes by Octavia Melody; grey coat, purple eyes, black mane, and treble clef Cutie Mark. She's cool."

"Do I want to know?" I inquired.

"Don't worry about it," said Vinyl. "Mike here takes his job as a roadie pretty seriously. He says he's one of the best."

"I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true," said Mike as he looked up. "Sure, this ain't the most glamourous job, but I get it done with no complaints."

"I see," said I. "Out of curiosity, what group are you a roadie for?"

"None, really. I'm freelance," said Mike. "Slick hired me to keep everything running smoothly at this festival, and I'm here to make sure he gets his money's worth."

As soon as he said that, something important came to mind.

"Does that include last night?" I asked.

Mike raised an eyebrow. "What're you implying, Melody?"

"Nothing!" I squeaked.

"Smooth, Tavi," said Vinyl, rolling her eyes. "I think she's trying to ask if you helped Neon with the setup last night."

"Oh, that," said Mike. "Sorry 'bout that, Melody. Didn't mean to scare ya."

"No, it's more my fault," I said. "I've just been so jittery lately after what happened."

Mike smirked. "Well, there's no need for that. My crew and I are gonna fix this, no problem."

Something told me it wouldn't be that easy, but I still had a point to make. "Anyway, from what Vinyl has told me, Neon Lights was the one who checked out the equipment before the set last night. Did you help him?"

"Well, I tried to," said Mike. "But for some reason, he kept saying that he wanted to do it himself."

Vinyl's brow furrowed. "That doesn't sound like him at all. Why would he insist on doing it himself?"

"Beats me," said Mike with a shrug. "I kept trying to tell him that Slick's not paying me to sit on my dock and do nothing, but he said he didn't need my help."

I hate to say it, but Neon Lights is becoming more and more suspicious the more I hear about him. At this point, I'm almost certain that he's hiding something. And the only way to find out what is to hear from the stallion himself, and he's not here right now. With that in mind, I decided to change the subject.

"Vinyl tells me that you haven't found anything yet," I said. "Is that true?"

"Unfortunately, yes," said Mike with a snort. "And I understand that she's frustrated. But until we find out what's causing this, it's too risky to..."

He trailed off and raised his hoof. "Sorry, girls. I have to take this," he said, tapping his headset. "Talk to me. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. You what?!"

His sudden exclamation caused me to jump.

"Hang on, we'll be right there," he said, tapping his headset off and turning back to us. "Good news, Scratch. One of the boys thinks he found something."

"For reals? But why did it take so long?" said Vinyl.

"Heck if I know," Mike growled. "C'mon, let's see what we've got."

Curious myself, I quickly followed at Vinyl and Mike's heels.

***

"Alright, what have we got?" said Mike as he marched up to one of the technicians.

"I found this buried in the left subwoofer, Boss," said the technician.

He held up a rather, odd device in his hoof. It looked like a miniature radio transmitter no bigger than a fly. Mike's horn glowed an orange color as he levitated the device into the air and looked it over with a critical eye.

"Hmm. Looks like some kind of receiver," he mused. "It was probably messing with the signal and caused the feedback."

"Yeah, but who put it there?" said Vinyl. "And why are we just finding it now?"

"'Fraid I don't have an answer to either of those questions, Scratch," said Mike. "I'll probably have to take a closer lo—"

Suddenly, the transmitter started beeping. Mike did a double take.

"The hay?" he said, tilting his head. "I didn't active it."

He kept looking over the device in a vain search for clues. As he did so, the beeping became faster and faster in tempo. Soon, all of the beeps blended together into a shrill sound that was painfully familiar. It was the same sound I heard before Mare-Do-Well came in to save Vinyl. And that meant we were all in grave danger. The only think I could think of to do was fall to the ground and cover my ears.

Before anypony could react to my behavior, a shrill screech emanated from the device and resonated all around the theater. It lasted for but a moment, but everypony felt the effects, including me. And let me tell you: It was nothing short of pure, unadulterated agony. In truth, it was so loud that it made Vinyl's music seem like a gentle whisper in the wind by comparison!

When I had opened my eyes, I was relieved to see that everypony was still alive.

"Yeesh. Good call there, Melody," Mike said in a strained tone. He wasn't as badly affected as the others, most likely due to his headset. "How'd you know it'd do that?"

"Nngh. I-I heard it last night," I said, struggling to pick myself up. "I remember hearing a small sound before the second blast of feedback hit."

"Aw, buck. That stupid migraine's back," Vinyl groused, rubbing her temples. "Thank Celestia it's not as bad as before, but man it stings."

"D-do you need anything, Vinyl?" I asked, batting my ear in order to clear it out.

"J-just some water," said Vinyl. "I-I'm pretty good otherwise."

I decided to take her word for it, mainly because I didn't have the strength to argue. "Here, let's go together," I said, placing her foreleg around my shoulder.

"Slick's gonna wanna know about this," said Mike. "Once I get my hearing back, I'll radio him and let him know."

"That won't be necessary."

A voice made itself known, and I felt Vinyl's body tense up as I carried her. I looked towards the entrance, and saw none other than Neon Lights walking down the aisle towards us.

"Slick told me I could find you here, Vinyl," he said, taking off his shades. "Man, you look like crap."

Vinyl snorted. "Yeah, I feel like it, too," she said angrily.

Neon noticed this. "Hey, no need to take it out on me, Vinyl."

"I'll be the judge of that," Vinyl snarled. "You said everything checked out, man. What the hay?!"

"Vinyl, easy," I said firmly. "Take a few deep breaths and calm down. We're all adults here. We can sort this out rationally."

Neon frowned and put his shades back on. "I think we should talk this out in private. I don't want Vinyl to explode in public."

"Maybe I wouldn't be so close to exploding if you..."

"Vinyl, that's enough."

My sharp words caused Vinyl to grow quiet. Under normal circumstances, she'd fight me on this. But I could tell she didn't have the strength.

"That being said, you're not innocent in all this, Neon Lights," I said, turning back to Neon. "Vinyl's right. You're going to have to explain yourself."

Neon nodded. "Alright, fair enough. Let's go find ourselves an empty studio so we can clear the air."

"Agreed," I said. "Lead the way."

Neon gave me another nod and left the theater while I followed, dragging Vinyl all the while. I noticed that he didn't once deny any of our accusations. Now I'm one hundred percent certain that he's hiding something. The only question is, what could it be...?

Confrontation: Neon Lights

April 9, 11:28 AM
Lincolt Center
Performance Studio A
***

Thankfully, it didn't take us long to find an unoccupied studio. I tried my best to ignore the strange looks other ponies were giving me as I carried Vinyl on my shoulder and followed Neon Lights inside. So much for being subtle and not arousing suspicion. Then again, I didn't really expect this to be a walk in the park.

Using his magic, Neon closed the door behind us to make sure we had our privacy and pulled up a few chairs. I sat Vinyl down in a chair next to me as Neon situated himself across from us.

"Let's get right to the point, shall we?" I said, turning to Neon. "You were in charge of checking the equipment for last night's set, and you told Vinyl that there were no problems. Have I gotten anything wrong here?"

"Nope," said Neon simply. "You're pretty much spot-on. Which is why I'm not sure why Vinyl's taking this out on me."

"It's because you're better than this, Neon," Vinyl growled, flicking her ear a bit to clean it out. "You take good care of your instruments just like every other musician out there. What happened last night shouldn't have happened because you should've caught it before we went on."

"Vinyl, I make mistakes all the time," said Neon defensively.

"No, I believe that," said Vinyl with a snort. "You're making a big one right now by holding out on us."

Neon lowered his shades. "Who said I'm holding out on you, Vinyl? I've got nothing to hide."

"My flank you don't!" Vinyl barked back.

"Vinyl, no," I scolded, placing a firm hoof on her shoulder. "We're not going to get anywhere by yelling at him. We should hear his side of the story before we accuse him of anything."

Vinyl took a deep breath and nodded. "R-right. Sorry, Octy," she said. "It's always better if the Good Cop goes first, right?"

I don't know whether that was self-deprecation or a shot at me (honestly, it could easily be both), but either way, it warranted a dirty look from me. Just because I'm falling all over myself trying to keep this investigation a secret doesn't give her the right to be so blatant about it.

"Just let me do the talking for the time being," I said, turning back to Neon. "Now then, if what you're saying is true, then you should have no trouble telling us about what happened last night before the set."

"No prob," said Neon, lifting his shades and resting them atop his forehead. "I'll tell you exactly how it all went down."

***
Testimony: Before the Set
***

"While Vinyl got our music in order, I did a check of all the equipment to make sure everything was ready to go," said Neon. "The roadies wanted to help, but I told 'em that I had a handle on things. So I ran a few tests, and everything seemed to be a-okay. Trust me, when that feedback kicked in during the show, I was just as shocked as everypony else."

Considering that it took the roadies quite a long time to find that transmitter, Neon's story was certainly believable. That is, up until a certain point. It sounded like he was omitting a vital piece of information. I had to dig deeper.

"Why didn't you let the roadies help you?" I asked. "Performing tests and things like that is their job, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah," said Neon with a shrug. "But I didn't want them to waste their time when I already had everything under control."

"Are you sure you had everything under control?" I said, folding my forelegs.

"Hey now, that's a loaded question," said Neon sharply.

"Not if you answer truthfully," I countered.

Neon snorted. "Who knew you were capable of playing hardball?" he said. "Listen, nothing went wrong when I tested the equipment. What happened last night should not have happened."

"Except that it did," I said.

"Yeah," said Neon. "And I'm just as confused as you."

When he said that, I remembered what Pan and Sapphire Shores told me. And right then and there, I figured that Neon was lying. I adjusted my bow-tie.

"So, you have no clue as to what happened last night," I said.

"Bingo, Octavia," said Neon with a nod. "Meaning none of this was my fault."

"Well, forgive me for saying so, Neon Lights. But I believe that to be a load of bollocks."

Neon's eyes widened. "Wh-what do you mean? I wouldn't lie to Vinyl like that."

"Oh really now," I said, raising an eyebrow. "Because when I went backstage to check on Vinyl after the accident, you were nowhere to be found. In fact, if this caught you off-guard just like the rest of us, why aren't you injured?"

Beads of sweat trickled down Neon's face. "U-um... Lucky break, I guess."

"Lucky break."

"I, had to go to the bathroom."

"In the middle of a set?"

"Hey, it was the first thing that came to mind! Cut me some— Aw, crap!"

With that outburst, Neon completely gave himself away. He did have something to hide after all.

"Y'know, Neon. This all could've been avoided if you were just straight with us from the beginning," said Vinyl firmly. "This isn't cool, man. Not only was our epic set cut short, but I almost died up there and you bailed on me. I thought we were friends!"

"We are!" Neon exclaimed. "Vinyl, simmer down!"

"I'll start simmering down when you start spilling the beans," Vinyl retorted.

Believe it or not, she actually said that mixed metaphor with a straight face. No real surprise there, seeing as she was absolutely livid. And truth be told, I think she has every right to be angry at Neon for trying to pull the wool over our eyes like that.

"Listen, I can explain everything!" said Neon. "This wasn't my fault, I swear!"

"Your credibility leaves something to be desired at the moment, Neon Lights," I said sternly.

"I-I know! I know," said Neon, trying to calm down. "B-but I was telling the truth when I said that I didn't find anything wrong with the equipment."

"Then why did you leave the stage before the accident occurred?" I asked.

Neon rubbed the bridge of his nose with his hoof and breathed a deep sigh before answering. "Okay, I wasn't gonna say anything, but it looks like I have no choice. Vinyl, I think you're in danger."

"Yeah, not sure where you got that idea," said Vinyl, rolling her eyes.

"No, you don't get it," said Neon, shaking his head. "I mean you cheated death last night. That accident was no accident."

I know I shouldn't really be surprised by this, seeing as it's already my working theory. But the fact that Neon was privy to this was still quite alarming.

"And you decided not to tell me this why?" Vinyl snarled.

"'Cause I didn't think it was important at the time," said Neon, looking rather dejected. "Here, let me lay it down for ya."

***
Testimony: The Truth Behind the "Accident"
***

"It started with a bogus letter I got at my hotel room," said Neon. "It said that someone would kill me if I played music ever again. I wrote it off as a prank, but just to make sure, I took it upon myself to check the equipment out. I swear to you, I didn't find a thing. It wasn't until during the set that I found something wrong. With no time to fix it and no chance of dragging Vinyl offstage, I got the heck out of Dodge."

I didn't like where this was going one bit. If Neon was telling the truth, then my original theory was correct. Part of me didn't want that to be the case. Nevertheless, I gathered my nerves and decided to question Neon further.

"What did you notice that was wrong during the set?" I inquired.

"Yeah, I didn't notice anything until that feedback threw me for a loop," said Vinyl.

"Believe me, I almost missed it myself," said Neon. "It happened during the second song. I heard a set of beeps that weren't supposed to be there."

"I, honestly couldn't tell," I said. "How'd you know that?"

"Because I wrote that second song," said Neon. "I know how it's supposed to sound, and those beeps didn't belong there."

That was a good answer. Of course a composer would be familiar with their own work. But there was still something else that was bugging me.

"Why didn't you try and save Vinyl?" I asked.

Neon smirked. "You're kidding, right? If I tried to drag Vinyl offstage without explanation, she would've fought me tooth and nail in front of everypony. That would've been embarrassing."

Vinyl gave a half-smirk of her own. "Well, you got me there, Neon. That is probably how I would've reacted," she said. "But why did you still keep this a secret after everything was said and done, man?"

"Didn't think you'd believe me," said Neon sheepishly. "That and I figured you'd be too mad at me to listen."

"Well, you're half right," said Vinyl.

Neon blinked in confusion. "Half right?"

"I believe you," said Vinyl. "Turns out some schmuck sent me a death threat, too. I didn't notice it 'cause I threw it out. Same thing happened to Octy."

"V-Vinyl, he doesn't need to know that!" I protested. "We're supposed to be keeping this a secret!"

"Why would you want to keep this secret?" asked Neon. "Shouldn't we tell Slick or the police? We're clearly not the only ponies being threatened here."

While Neon's suggestion sounded rational, I didn't think it was a good idea. If I went to the police, this maniac would know that I was privy to his plan! I'd practically be daring him to kill me! I didn't want that to happen to me nor anyone else.

"W-we don't want to start a panic," I said, trying to compose myself (and failing miserably). "B-besides, who would believe us?"

"Octy, chill," said Vinyl. "We're not gonna keep this secret if you keep freaking out over everything."

"I-I'm trying~!" I cried. "I-it's not that easy, you know."

"I know. That's why I'm here," said Vinyl, turning back to Neon. "Still, I think I'm with Tavi on this one. Slick's not gonna close the festival just because some motherbucker doesn't like music. Plus, I don't think the fuzz would take this seriously. I mean, we didn't."

"True," said Neon, knitting his brow. "So, what? We just keep this to ourselves?"

"Well, Octy and I are gonna keep investigating this," said Vinyl. "You just tell us if you see anything and keep stuff on the down-low."

"Um, alright," said Neon with a shrug. He then reached out his hoof. "Does this mean we're cool?"

Vinyl smirked and gave Neon a hoof bump. "Yeah, we're cool," she said. "But be more open with me next time, 'kay? You're one of my best friends, and friends don't hold out on each other."

"Gotcha," said Neon with a smile. "Oh, by the way? I've been talking to ponies about that first song you composed for Octavia. Turns out it's a big hit."

Vinyl snickered. "Told ya it would be," she said.

Well, it was nice to see that Vinyl and Neon were on good terms once again. But, with Neon's story coinciding with my own, I couldn't help but feel uneasy. This wasn't just a bizarre theory my worried mind cooked up in the middle of the night anymore. It was a very real possibility. I shivered.

"Hey, you okay, Tavi?" asked Vinyl. "Wait, that's probably a dumb question."

I was about to answer when a loud, all-too-familiar voice was heard from outside.

"OCTY~!"

"Sounds like somepony's looking for you," said Neon, flicking his ear.

"Yes, I gathered that," I said. "Excuse me."

I opened the door to the studio, and sure enough, there was my ensemble.

"Hey, there you are!" cheered Beauty Brass. "We've been looking all over for you!"

"Oh. Sorry," I said. "I, had some things to sort out."

"Well, if they're all sorted, we can begin practicing," said Frederick. "By the by, is Ms. Scratch alright?"

"Why not ask me yourself?" said Vinyl. "And just FYI, I'm fine. How'd you guys like the set?"

"Well, there wasn't much of it to like," said Frederick. "But what I heard was, decent, I suppose."

"Don't try to downplay it, Fredrick," said Beauty Brass. "I thought it was lovely, Vinyl. Especially that first song. Really powerful stuff."

"I aim to please," said Vinyl. "What about you, Harpo?"

Parish simply shrugged, but I could also see a slight smirk on his face. I think he liked it, but was too shy to admit it.

"I'll take that as a four-star rating," said Vinyl. "Well, I suppose I'd better get out of your manes. I'm gonna go see Slick about something."

"Mind if I join ya?" said Neon. "I'd like to get some clarinet samples for my next set."

Vinyl raised an eyebrow. "Clarinet and wubs? That's a weird combination."

"This coming from the mare who thought a string quartet would work with wubs."

"Hey, it did, didn't it?"

"Yeah, so why not a clarinet?"

The two of them left, gabbing all the while. I, suppose they have the right idea. I'm not going to enjoy this festival if I keep stressing myself over this mystery.

"So, shall we get started?" asked Frederick.

I blushed. "There's actually a bit of a problem with that," I said sheepishly. "I, left my cello at the hotel. Sorry."

"Don't worry, Slick told us," said Beauty Brass. "He already sent somepony to fetch you a spare."

"Octavia Melody?"

As if on cue, a rather bulky-looking stallion walked in, carrying a cello on his back. I sighed.

"You guys asked him to do this, didn't you?" I said. "You really didn't have to, you know. I could've..."

"I'm going to stop you right there, because the whole thing is rather academic at this point," said Frederick. "It wouldn't be a true performance without you by our side, Octavia. And we know you'd do the same for us."

Okay, I'm not going to dispute that. He's right, after all. My ensemble is more than just a group of fellow musicians. They're my friends. And I wouldn't want anything to happen to them.

"Right. Thank you," I said, taking up the cello as Frederick made his way to a keyboard in the corner. I smiled to myself. I may be scared by all this, but one thing I'm not going to do is stop playing music just because someone is threatening me not to. If I do that, then he wins. And I won't let that happen. Not sure how I'm going to go about making sure it doesn't happen, but the drive is there. That's the important thing right now.

"Alright then, everypony," I said, raising my bow. "Let's take it from the top..."

Author's Note

((OOC: For those who are interested, I envision this to be Octavia's Objection theme. :raritystarry: ))

Greatness in Humility

April 9, 1:02 PM
Lincolt Center
The Bent Trumpet
***

We didn't encounter any complications during our practicing session, much to my relief. Well, partial relief. The paranoid part of my mind is telling me that the killer is either lulling me into a false sense of security or has already marked me as a target. I know that sounds crazy, but I can't help it. I'm a worrywart, plain and simple. You've, probably gathered that by now.

Anyway, after we were done practicing, we went over to the Bent Trumpet to get some lunch. Once we entered, Fiddlesticks waved us over. She was sitting at a small table with Kazooie and Pitch Perfect.

"Howdy, Tavia," she said cheerfully. "Care t'join us?"

"Are you sure we're not intruding?" asked Parish.

"What? Nah, it's fine," said Fiddlesticks. "Ah was aimin' to introduce y'all to Kazooie an' Pitch Perfect, anyways."

"Howdy-do," said Pitch with a radiant smile.

Kazooie merely grunted.

"Well, he's certainly a sociable one," said Frederick.

"Forgive 'im. He ain't used to talkin' to city folk," said Pitch. "This is our first time out of Ponyville, y'see."

"Hmm," said Frederick with a nod. "Well anyway, I'm Frederick Horseshoepin, and these are my colleagues Beauty Brass and Parish Nandermane."

"Please, call me Harpo," said Parish, bowing before Pitch.

"Nice to meet you," said Beauty Brass. "So, it's just you three in this band, huh?"

"Two," Kazooie corrected. "Fiddle here comes and goes as she pleases. It's very annoyin'."

"What can Ah say? Ah like the freedom to roam," said Fiddlesticks with a shrug.

"And I respect that," said Kazooie. "But that don't mean I gotta like it."

"Alright, alright. Knock it off," said Pitch with a sigh.

"This, happens a lot, I take it," I said.

"Eh, every once in a while," said Pitch. "It's kinda strange, 'cause otherwise, we all get along great."

"Well, that is rather key if you're all playing in the same band," said Frederick.

Kazooie raised an eyebrow. "You tryin' to be funny?" he said with a snort.

"It's nigh-on impossible to tell with Frederick," said Parish. "Pay it no mind."

Kazooie shrugged. "Well, are y'all gonna take a seat and have some lunch, or are ya content with just gabbin'?"

"Oh, right. Sorry," said Beauty Brass as we all sat down. "So, what did you guys think of Vinyl's set last night?"

"Alright, I guess," said Kazooie ambiguously. "I'm usually not into that newfangled stuff kids are listenin' to these days. However, that first song had a very profound message, and I can respect that."

"I liked it, too," said Pitch. "Although that second song just sounded off to me."

"Well, I thought that was painfully obvious to everypony in the room," said Frederick. "It's a miracle nopony was seriously injured by that feedback."

"I ain't talkin' 'bout that," said Pitch. "Even before the accident, something didn't sound right. Couldn't tell ya what; I just got this feeling that it ain't how the composer wrote it."

Something clicked in my mind, and my eyes went wide. Neon Lights just mentioned to me how he heard a strange sound that wasn't part of his score just before the feedback occurred. How did Pitch know about that?

"A-are you sure?" I asked. "I didn't hear anything odd until we were all bombarded by that feedback."

"I didn't expect you to," said Pitch with a shrug. "See, my special talent is that I've got a great ear for music. I can hear stuff that other ponies don't usually pick up on. So when I play my harmonica, well, let's just say they don't call me Pitch Perfect for nothin'."

I must say, that's quite an admirable special talent; especially for a musician. And it did explain how she managed to hear the transmitter when nearly everypony else did not. Between her testimony corroborating with Neon's and the transmitter found inside the subwoofer, I was starting to get a clear picture of what happened last night. All I was missing was the culprit.

Then I remembered something else. I was planning on letting Fiddlesticks in on my secret. For one, I need all the help I can get with this endeavor. Vinyl's help is much appreciated, but there's only so much she can do. Plus, well, I can tell that she's worried about me. I shouldn't hide this from her.

"Um, Fiddle?" I said. "Do you mind if I talk to you in private?"

"Hmm? Sumthin' botherin' ya?" Fiddlesticks inquired.

"You, could say that," I said.

Fiddlesticks nodded. "Alright, sure," she said, getting up from her seat. "Beggin' yer pardon, y'all. Ah'll try not to be long."

"Please excuse me as well," I apologized as I got up myself. Fiddlesticks and I then made our way to an empty booth off in the corner.

"Alright, Tavia. What's up?" asked Fiddlesticks.

I breathed a deep sigh. "I need to tell you something, Fiddle. It's very important, and it also sounds a little crazy. All I ask is that you'll hear me out, and that you won't tell anypony else. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure," said Fiddlesticks somberly. "Ya have mah word."

I nodded. "Good. Alright, here's the thing..."

I proceeded to tell Fiddlesticks about everything I experienced thus far. I told her about Mare-Do-Well, the death threats, the transmitter, et cetera. When I finished, Fiddlesticks furrowed her brow and folded her forelegs.

"That's, quite a story, Tavia," she said.

"I know. I can hardly believe it myself," I said with a sigh. "But it might very well be true."

"Ah don't doubt ya on that, Tavia," said Fiddlesticks. "There's jus' one thing that's buggin' me."

"Oh?"

"Y'all said that you, Vinyl, an' Neon Lights got death threats, right?"

"Yes."

"An' you think everyone here got the same threat."

"That's the working theory."

"Well, looks like this dock-hole screwed up. Ah didn't get one."

I had to do a double take. "You what?"

"Jus' what Ah said," said Fiddlesticks. "Ah didn't get any death threats."

"Are you sure about that?" I asked. "Maybe you overlooked it, and it's still in your hotel room. That's what happened to Vinyl."

"Maybe. But that ain't the only thing confusin' me," said Fiddlesticks. "Y'all heard me an' mah band practice this mornin'. If the threat says that the killer will strike if we so much as play another note again, how come none of us have been attacked yet?"

"I, don't have a good answer to that," I said. "Actually, my ensemble and I just finished a practicing session ourselves, and we didn't have any difficulties."

"Huh. This is very strange," mused Fiddlesticks. "But, now that Ah think about it, Kazooie did mention sumthin' 'bout a low-brow prank somepony pulled on him when he first got his room. Maybe that threat is what he was talkin' about."

"That's very likely," I said. "So far, everypony I've talked to hasn't been taking the threat seriously."

Fiddlesticks nodded. "Alright, Ah'll do what Ah can t'help ya out," she said. "When Ah get back to mah room, Ah'll be sure to look fer that note."

"Thank you, Fiddle," I said with a smile. "I'm glad I can trust you on this."

"Don't sweat it, Tavia," said Fiddlesticks with a tip of her hat. "Jus' happy to oblige."

Before anything else could be said, a unicorn suddenly ran up to our booth. I immediately recognized him as the talent scout who was arguing with Bon-Bon over breakfast at Au Bon Pony.

"So sorry if I'm interrupting anything," he said. "Would either of you fine fillies know where I can find Lyra Heartstrings?"

Fiddlesticks raised an eyebrow, and then extended her hoof. "Hi, Ah'm Fiddlesticks. Nice to meetcha."

I'd, be lying if I said I didn't find that a little amusing. I could see the embarrassment on the unicorn's face as he was caught off-guard by Fiddlesticks's response.

"Oh, right. I apologize," he said, clearing his throat. "My card."

Using his magic, he produced two business cards and levitated them before us.

"'Star Maker: Can turn anypony in Equestria into a star,'" I read aloud. "That's, quite a claim."

"Thankfully, I can back it up," said Star Maker with a complacent grin. It seemed that he had regained his composure. "It's my special talent, after all. I can take any dull, ordinary pony and help them get the recognition they deserve."

"An' y'all are interested in Lyra?" inquired Fiddlesticks.

"Well, of course," said Star Maker, adjusting his shades. "I come to the Manehattan Music Festival every year to lend an ear to some of the most woefully underrated talent in Equestria. It's a great opportunity to find future stars and help them reach their full potential."

Assuming that's what they want. Which, if I recall correctly, Lyra doesn't. With that in mind, I wasn't going to rat her out.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Maker. But I haven't seen her," I said.

"Ah, shame," said Star Maker, taking out a handkerchief and cleaning his shades. "Ms. Heartstrings is truly talented, and yet she leads such an ordinary life. I'm sure she'd love stardom if she just gave it a chance."

"How do ya know that?" asked Fiddlesticks.

Star Maker gave Fiddlesticks a blank stare. "I'm sorry?"

"How do ya know she wants all that fancy-shamcy fame an' fortune?" said Fiddlesticks. "Not everypony likes the limelight. Ah don't."

Star Maker chuckled. "Oh, come now. Why be ordinary when you can be extraordinary? That's my motto."

"That so? Well, here's mine. Don't go around tellin' other ponies how to live their lives," said Fiddlesticks bluntly.

Star Maker didn't take kindly to that. "Look here, madam. You could be the most talented musician in the world, but it doesn't amount to anything if nopony is listening to you."

"Plenty of ponies listen to Lyra. What's yer point?" said Fiddlesticks.

"The point is that not enough ponies are listening to Ms. Heartstrings," said Star Maker tersely. "And those ponies are missing out because all she can do is play for ponies who already love her. She's preaching to the choir and not getting anything out of it."

"That's fer her to decide, doncha think?" said Fiddlesticks firmly.

Star Maker snorted. "Clearly, you don't know the glory of being a star," he said, readjusting his shades. "I'm sorry to have taken up your time."

With that, he marched off. Fiddlesticks sighed and shook her head.

"Can ya believe that guy?" she said. "Ah mean, really."

"Well, I can't say he's entirely wrong," I confessed. "There are ponies who want that kind of recognition and need that extra boost."

"Well, Ah ain't one of them," grumbled Fiddlesticks.

"For the record, I don't think Lyra is, either," I said. "And sooner or later, he's probably going to have to accept that."

"Ah jus' hope it's sooner rather than later," said Fiddlesticks. "Anyway, Ah reckon we should join the others, yeah?"

"Agreed. I think we've dallied for long enough," I said, getting up from my seat. We were just about to leave when another pony ran up to us. It was none other than Bon-Bon.

"Hey, sorry. Have either of you seen Lyra?" she asked. "I need to talk to her, and I can't find her anywhere."

"Last Ah checked, she was hidin' out in Performance Studio B," said Fiddlesticks.

"Right, thanks," said Bon-Bon before darting off.

"Well, that was, interesting," I said. "I just hope Bon-Bon doesn't interrupt Lyra's practicing. She's performing tonight, after all."

"With that talent scout hoverin' over her head? Yeesh," said Fiddlesticks, obscuring her eyes with her hat. "Ah really feel sorry fer the poor gal."

"Agreed," I said as we returned to the others. Indeed, this was a big night for Lyra. Star Maker was right about one thing: Lyra's not all that famous. She's played outside of Ponyville before, but not for an audience as big as the Manehattan Music Festival. Anypony in her situation would be nervous. I suppose that's why Bon-Bon was looking for her. She wanted to offer her moral support. Well, that and discuss the overly-persistent talent scout breathing down her neck. Yeah, that probably wasn't going to help her.

Maybe I should go check on her after lunch and see if she's alright. Normally I'd just leave it to Bon-Bon, but let's just say that Star Maker isn't the only thing Lyra should be worried about. That killer is still out there somewhere, and for all I know, she might be next on the chopping block.

...

Oh Celestia, why did I just think that? Ugh, I bloody hope she's alright, in more ways than one...

Missing Minstrels

April 9, 2:15 PM
Lincolt Center
Convention Floor
***

I excused myself from lunch earlier than everypony else. I wouldn't have done so under normal circumstances, but my worries about Lyra just kept eating at me. I know she was just fine when I left her, but that was hours ago. Anything could've happened in that time frame. I-I just had to know that she was safe.

As soon as I left the Bent Trumpet, I immediately saw something quite strange. It was yet another argument (seriously, how many of those have I become privy to today?), this time between Silenus and a security guard. The guard was a navy blue minotaur wearing a standard uniform and a golden nose ring. But unlike most minotaurs I'm familiar with, he was thin and lanky rather that large and muscular. He also didn't look that happy.

"Look, I've searched the entire convention floor. There's nothing suspicious around here," the minotaur said in a dull, rumbling voice.

"Th-that'sh what you think, officher," slurred Silenus. "B-but I shaw that shadow with my own two eyesh. I-it'sh your job to do shomthing about it."

"About what?" asked the minotaur. "There's nopony on this floor matching your description."

"Maybe it'sh not a pony."

"You clearly said that it was."

"I did? I think I would've remembered that."

The minotaur snorted. "Look, Mac. If you don't mind, I've got more important things to do than go on some wild goose chase."

"Hey! My-my name'sh not Mac!" protested Silenus. "And I never shaid you were chashing a gooshe!"

My word, this was painful to watch. Pan should really consider keeping his friend on a shorter leash, if only to keep him from inadvertently stirring up trouble. Seeing as it was none of my business, I started walking away.

"Th-that pony can vouch for me! She shaw the shadow, too!"

Oh Celestia, I hope he's not talking about...

"That grey pony over there?"

"Yeah, that'sh her! Octy-shomething!"

Okay, he is. Ugh, I didn't have time for this. But, it looks like I have no choice. I turned around just as the minotaur and Silenus were walking up to me.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am. Just wanna ask you a few questions," said the minotaur.

"Tell him about the shadow! You shaw it; I know you did!" said Silenus.

"Let me do the talking here," growled the minotaur before turning back to me. "Listen, ma'am. Do you know anything about this weird shadow floating around?"

Well, that could mean anything. "What weird shadow are you referring to, sir?" I inquired.

"This drunkard claims that he's been seeing a shadow floating around and spying on ponies," said the minotaur. "He says it looks like some kind of costume."

I knew what he was talking about, but I wasn't sure if revealing Mare-Do-Well was a good idea. While I was defying her by ignoring her warning, I certainly didn't want to get in her way.

"I, might've seen something to that effect, yes," I said. "I can't say for certain what it was, though. Plus, I only saw it once, and that was several hours ago."

"And that's all you know?" said the minotaur.

"Yes, that's all," I said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go see a friend."

"H-hang on, hang on," said Silenus. "I-I got another question."

I groaned. "What is it?"

"H-have you sheen Pan anywhere?"

Actually now that he mentioned it, that was rather strange. Although Silenus was here, Pan was mysteriously absent.

"I'm afraid I haven't," I said. "Why? Did you wander off again?"

"I dunno," said Silenus with a shrug. "I jusht wanted to shee what that shadow wash, and when I got back, he wash gone."

"In other words, you wandered off again," I said. "Because I doubt Pan would leave someone like you to your own devices."

The minotaur gave his nose ring a flick and furrowed his brow. "I think I might've seen him at the Whinnyton Maresalis Theater," he mused.

When he said that, something came to mind. I remembered that when I went to check on Vinyl, there were no security guards posted outside the theater.

"Why would he be there?" I asked. "Mike Check told me that the theater is off-limits to the public due to an ongoing investigation."

The minotaur raised an eyebrow. "And how do you know that?" he said, leering at me with hungry eyes.

I gulped. "N-no need to get suspicious," I stammered. "I-I'm allowed in there. G-go check with him."

"And, who are you?"

"Octavia Melody. I play the cello for the Canterlot Ensemble."

The minotaur struck a thinking attitude. "Now, that's a bit strange. Why would a cellist be allowed to participate in an investigation?"

"I was just checking on my friend, Vinyl Scratch," I said. "She was helping out."

The minotaur flicked his nose ring again. "Huh. Interesting," he said thoughtfully.

"Um, actually, I'm curious about something," I said. "There were no guards posted outside the theater. Why is that?"

The minotaur tilted his head. "What business is that of yours, pray tell?" he inquired. He didn't exactly sound threatening, but the look he was giving me didn't exactly put my mind at ease.

"I-I don't mean to pry or anything, I swear!" I squeaked, shivering all over. "I-I was just..."

"Easy there, Point Dexter. She's cool."

A smooth voice made itself known as Slick Licks walked in. The minotaur raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Positive, daddy-o," said Slick Licks.

The minotaur paused for a moment, and then gave me a nod. "I apologize, ma'am. It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable."

"I-it's alright," I said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I-I've been rather jumpy lately, anyway. After what happened last night, I mean."

"Eh, Shapphire'sh right. Y-you worry too much," said Silenus, opening his flask. "Here, have shome of thish. It'll make ya feel better."

"Thank you no," I said, politely pushing the flask away. "I'll be alright."

"Shuit yourshelf," said Silenus with a shrug, taking a swig from his flask.

Slick Licks raised an eyebrow. "You'd, better keep an eye on him, Point Dexter. I don't think this guy should walk around unsupervised."

"I was thinking the same thing," said the minotaur. "He says he's looking for Pan. Last I checked, he was at the Whinnyton Maresalis Theater. I'll bring him over there now."

"Whoa, back up there," said Slick Licks. "Mike says the theater's off-limits to the public. How'd Pan get in?"

Point Dexter folded his arms and knitted his brow. "I can't say for certain. Excuse me for a moment. I'm going to have a word with Mike."

Without another word, he marched off, dragging Silenus with him.

"Sorry 'bout that, kitten," said Slick Licks. "Point Dexter over there is still pretty green. Management just hired him a few days ago, so he's still learning the ropes."

"So, that's why he wasn't posted outside the theater?" I asked. "Because there's no security there right now."

"Actually, there is," said Slick Licks.

I blinked. "But, I didn't see anypony."

"You saw Mike, didn't ya?"

That only served to confuse me even further. "Wait, Mike Check? But I thought he was a roadie."

"He is. And as a roadie, he makes sure everything runs smoothly," said Slick Licks. "As such, he's a bit of a jack-of-all-trades. You kinda have to be in his line of work."

"Oh. I see," said I. "My ensemble never needed a roadie, so I wouldn't know."

"Yeah, I don't imagine you would, kitten," said Slick Licks with a snicker. His tone then became serious. "Oh, by the way. Scratch told me about what Mike found. He's keeping me posted, but rest assured, we're not gonna have a repeat of last night's accident."

"That's good to hear," I said. "Speaking of which, I was just going to check up on Lyra. I hope she's not too nervous."

Slick Licks gave me a warm smile. "You've got a good heart, kitten. I can't wait to hear it in your music," he said. "Well, I'm gonna go check in on the investigation. Can't be too careful, after all. Catch ya later."

With that, he pointed at me and winked before walking off towards the theater. I breathed a deep sigh and continued on my way. Just as I was approaching the performance studios, I heard a voice behind me.

"Is that the only thing you're concerned about, Ms. Melody?"

I turned around and saw the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well leaning against a wall. I swallowed.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" I asked.

"I told you before. I go where I'm needed," said Mare-Do-Well. "But don't change the subject here. You obviously didn't heed my warning."

Well, bugger. How am I going to get out of this one?

"I-I don't know what you're..."

Mare-Do-Well raised her hoof. "Don't misunderstand me, Ms. Melody. I'm not mad at you. Merely curious," said she. "Why are you getting involved? Don't you know that you're in great danger?"

"Yes. I do know that," I said with a sigh. "And I'm very frightened by all this. But my friends are in danger, too, and I need to help them."

"Admirable, but I must ask you to leave this to me," said Mare-Do-Well. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I-I'll be fine," I lied. Honestly, I don't know why I even bothered saying that. I didn't even believe it myself. But I couldn't turn back now.

Mare-Do-Well sighed and lowered her hat over her eyes. "You're going to continue fighting me on this no matter what I do, aren't you?"

"This is my decision, Ms. Mare-Do-Well. And I intend to see it through," I said as firmly as I could. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to check on my friend Lyra."

"Do you know where she is?"

That question gave me pause. Why would she ask that?

"Of course I know where she is," I said. "She's in Performance Studio B, hiding from Star Maker."

"Not anymore, she isn't."

That took me by surprise. "H-how do you know?"

"I was just there," said Mare-Do-Well. "The studio's empty. There's no sign of Ms. Heartstrings."

"Well, where is she then?"

Mare-Do-Well tilted her head. "Why are you asking me?"

"Aren't you supposed to be protecting us?" I inquired.

Mare-Do-Well sighed. "Ms. Melody, please don't expect me to do the impossible. I can only be in so many places at once."

"Then why are you doing this alone? You need my help."

Mare-Do-Well snorted. "If you know what's good for you, you'll forget this whole thing and leave it to me," she said sternly.

"Hey, Tavi!"

I turned around to see Vinyl walking up to me. She looked rather serious, which really didn't bode well.

"Tavi, you need to see this," she said.

"Hold on a moment," I said. "I have to..."

I turned back to Mare-Do-Well, only to find that she had disappeared. I can't imagine why; our conversation clearly wasn't over.

"Um, Octy?"

"Never mind," I said. "What is it?"

"Well, I was helping Bon-Bon find Lyra when I found this," said Vinyl, levitating a piece of paper in front of me. "It was in Performance Studio B. You, might wanna sit down."

That wasn't a good omen. With a swallow, I took the piece of paper and unfolded it. It was a letter that appeared to have been written in haste. It read as follows:

If you ever want to see me again, give into the demands.

~Lyra Heartstrings

PS: Whoever is reading this, do the opposite of that. Don't worry about me.

If only it were that easy, Lyra. I tried to take a few deep breaths to calm myself. It seems that Lyra was kidnapped in some fashion. But, that didn't make sense. It couldn't have been the killer, could it? If he was aiming to kill us for playing music, why keep one of us alive like this? And if it wasn't the killer, then what was Lyra talking about?

"Does Bon-Bon know about this?" I asked.

"She left before I could show her," said Vinyl. "Why? You think she knows something about this?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "Let's show this to Slick Licks first. He'll hopefully know what to do."

"Alright, sounds like a plan," said Vinyl with a nod. "C'mon, let's go."

With that, we headed off. I'm beginning to think that this investigation was a bad idea. Everything just seemed to be getting worse and worse. Well, it's too late for that now. I got myself into this mess; it's my responsibility to get myself out. Besides, Vinyl and Fiddlesticks have my back, and Mare-Do-Well is doing her best to watch over all of us apparently. I'll be okay.

...

I hope.

Confrontation: Bon-Bon

April 9, 2:33 PM
Lincolt Center
The Whinnyton Maresalis Theater
***

"Look, ma'am. This area's off-limits. You can't be in here."

"I don't care! I need to find her!"

"Well, she ain't here."

"Horse apples! There's nowhere else she can be!"

When we arrived at the theater, I began to feel a slight sense of dread. We stumbled upon yet another argument, this time between Bon-Bon and Mike Check. And this debate was particularly heated; mostly due to Bon-Bon being absolutely hysterical. Vinyl drew in a sharp breath through her teeth.

"Dum dee dum dum~," she said half-jokingly.

"Very cute, Vinyl," I growled, giving her a dirty look. However, I did share her sentiments. Bon-Bon's rather high-strung as it is. I shudder to think what would happen if I showed her the letter Vinyl found.

"Listen, I'll keep an eye out for her if it'll make you feel better," said Mike flatly. "But I can't let you in here. There's an important investigation going on right now."

"I have run myself ragged searching this place from top to bottom!" Bon-Bon screamed. "Lyra has to be in there! I have to get to her before that dock-hole Star Maker does!"

"I do believe my ears are burning."

Lovely. As if this situation wasn't bad enough, Star Maker himself had to come in and run the risk of setting Bon-Bon off. Then again, Bon-Bon was making such a scene that I'm rather certain that most of the convention floor was privy to this exchange.

"And, who the hay are you?" said Mike, narrowing his eyes.

"My card," said Star Maker, giving Mike his business card. Mike read it over and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, for the record, you're not allowed in here, either," he said with a snort.

"Oh, don't mind me," said Star Maker, taking out his handkerchief and cleaning his shades. "I just wanted to know what all the hubbub was about."

Bon-Bon shot Star Maker a glare. "Don't act like you don't know," she snarled. "Lyra's run off somewhere, and it's your fault!"

"My fault? I didn't even talk to her yet," said Star Maker. "You have been preventing me from doing so."

I wasn't sure if that was a lie or not. I recalled my conversation I had with Lyra earlier today, and she said that she and Star Maker did talk to each other. But on the other hoof, Bon-Bon never brought it up during their debate over breakfast. While the connection to the death threats was tangental at best, I figured it was best to intervene and sort this out. If anything, it might give me more clues to Lyra's disappearance.

"Excuse me," I said, walking up to the group. "I couldn't help but overhear your little, conversation."

Mike looked up at me and gave me a nod. "Hey there, Melody. Don't worry, I've got this under control. If you're here to see Slick, he's over there with Point Dexter."

"Hey! How come she's allowed in here?!" Bon-Bon demanded.

Before Mike could answer, I cleared my throat.

"Actually, I think I might be able to help sort this out," I said. "First, I ask that you calm down for a moment, Ms. Bon-Bon."

"How can I be calm at a time like this?!" Bon-Bon yelled.

"Because if you're not, I won't be able to help you," I said firmly. "I'm worried about Lyra as well, but it won't do us any good to panic."

Vinyl opened her mouth to take a potshot at me, but quickly thought better of it when I gave her a dirty look. I bet anything she was going to tell me to follow my own advice. When I turned back to Bon-Bon, she was making a valiant effort to calm herself.

"Alright, we'll do this your way," she said. "What's your idea?"

"Let's start off by backing up a bit," I said. "I want to hear about how this whole affair began."

"You're talking about Lyra getting pestered by this motherbucker, right?" said Bon-Bon, tilting her head at Star Maker.

"Um, I'm standing right here, you know!" Star Maker shouted indignantly.

"So I noticed," said Bon-Bon, her disdain clearly evident in her voice.

"Uh, let's not lose track here," I said, trying to keep order. "To answer your question, that is what I'm referring to."

"Ah," said Bon-Bon with a nod. "Alright, I'll tell you exactly what's going on here."

"Be forewarned that I will call you out on any baseless slander in your story, Ms. Bon-Bon," said Star Maker firmly.

Bon-Bon responded with a simple snort before turning back to me. "Anyway, it's like this..."

***
Testimony: The Whole Affair
***

"Everything started when we first got to the festival," said Bon-Bon. "Lyra was immediately approached by this bastard Star Maker, who claimed that she should be a star. We both respectfully declined at first, but he kept following Lyra around and pestering her until Vinyl's set began. The next morning, Lyra got an invitation to join Star Maker for breakfast. She really didn't want to go, so I went in her stead while she went to the festival; both to prepare for her performance tonight and to clear her mind. I haven't seen her since we parted ways at the hotel."

"Lies! Nothing but slanderous lies!" Star Maker barked.

"Oh, and like you would tell the truth," said Bon-Bon, rolling her eyes.

"Both of you knock it off before I have Point Dexter show you the door," Mike snarled. He then sighed. "You sure this is gonna work, Melody?"

"It's alright, Mr. Check. I can handle this," I said. I then furrowed my brow. Bon-Bon's story sounded straightforward enough, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. I had to ask a few more questions.

"I remember that you and Mr. Maker had quite the quarrel this morning," I said. "He claims that you've been barring his every chance to speak to Lyra. Is this true?"

"No, it's not," said Bon-Bon, shaking her head. "I heard Lyra tell him flat-out that she wasn't interested."

"Ha! A likely story," Star Maker scoffed. "She hasn't said a word to me!"

"What? I heard it straight from her mouth!" Bon-Bon protested.

Star Maker sighed. "The tighter you grip onto your precious friend, Ms. Bon-Bon, the more she slips through your hooves," he said somberly. "Madam, don't believe her. She's too afraid of change to make a rational decision here."

"Don't try to turn this around, you prick!" Bon-Bon spat. "This is all your fault!"

"Stop it, both of you!"

All eyes were on me as I moved to break up the argument.

"Ms. Bon-Bon, there's something about your story that doesn't add up," I said.

Bon-Bon gasped. "Wh-what?! Why are you taking his side?!" she screamed.

"I'm not," I said. "I actually managed to talk to Lyra before she disappeared. She told me herself that she did indeed talk to Star Maker, and that she said she wasn't interested in his deal."

"That's not true!" Star Maker exclaimed. "Ms. Bon-Bon has been a constant obstruction to me!"

"So you say," I said calmly, adjusting my bow-tie. "Which is why I'm curious as to why it didn't come up during your debate over breakfast. Ms. Bon-Bon, you didn't tell him at any point that Lyra had already said no."

"Because he's too stubborn to admit it," said Bon-Bon. "All last night, he kept claiming that Lyra's refusal was just what I wanted to hear from her. And by the way, that is an outright lie. I was letting Lyra speak for herself."

"How do you know that to be true?" said Star Maker, lowering his shades. "How do you know she simply wasn't sparing your feelings?"

"Because she told me this morning," Bon-Bon answered without missing a beat.

"She still could've been saying what you wanted to hear," said Star Maker.

"That's outrageous! Lyra would never lie to me like that!" shouted an aghast Bon-Bon. "You don't know a Celestia-damn thing about us!"

"Well, why don't we get the answer straight from the horse's mouth, hmm?" said Star Maker. "Oh, that's right. She's not here right now."

"You think I don't know that?!" Bon-Bon barked. "I've been tearing this place apart looking for her because I know you were gonna try and sweet talk her into a deal! Heck, for all I know, she probably ran away 'cause she was unable to handle the pressure!"

Oh dear. I was hoping to show Bon-Bon this when she was in a better mood, but it looks like that isn't going to be the case. I sighed.

"Actually, that's incorrect," I said sadly.

Bon-Bon looked at me. "Wh-what do you mean, Ms. Octavia?"

"Vinyl found this in Performance Studio B, where she was last seen," I said, giving Bon-Bon the letter. "I suggest you sit down."

Bon-Bon snatched the letter from my hooves and read it over. When she finished, the piece of paper slipped out of her hooves and fluttered to the ground. Bon-Bon's eyes were wide and watery. Her lip quivered. Her hooves shook. She closed her eyes and tensed her shoulders, trembling all the while.

"H-hey, what's wrong?" asked Mike. "What does it say?"

Bon-Bon's eyes snapped open, and a blazing inferno could be seen through her tears. She turned to Star Maker savagely.

"So, that's it, huh?" she spat. "You couldn't convince Lyra to sign your stupid contract, so you took her by force! Give her back, you sunnova bitch!"

"Wh-what?! Ms. Bon-Bon, what are you talking about?!" Star Maker exclaimed.

"Don't buck with me, you snake!" Bon-Bon screamed. "You ponynapped her! Give her back, or I'll kick your teeth in!"

"M-Ms. Bon-Bon, there must be some mistake..." said a nervous Star Maker, wiping the sweat from his brow with his handkerchief.

"My only mistake was trying to be civil with you!" Bon-Bon roared, arching her back and pawing the ground. "Now you're gonna get it!"

"Yo, Point! We've got a situation here!"

Mike used his magic to grab a hold of Bon-Bon's tail while he activated his headset. Bon-Bon squirmed and struggled against his magical grip.

"Let me at him!" she yelled. "He can't get away with this!"

"Ma'am, if you don't get a hold of yourself in two seconds, I'm gonna have Point Dexter throw you out on your dock," Mike warned. "I really don't wanna do that."

Bon-Bon growled angrily, but she complied with Mike's request.

"Now, what's all this about?" asked Star Maker. "I'm not the kind to kidnap ponies, Ms. Bon-Bon."

"Then how do you explain this?" Bon-Bon inquired, picking up the letter and thrusting it into Star Maker's face. Star Maker raised an eyebrow.

"I've never seen this before," said he.

"Right. Sure you haven't," said Bon-Bon, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I hate to say it, but I think Bon-Bon's wrong about this. Star Maker may be quite, shady, but there's no way he was responsible for Lyra's disappearance.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to hear why you think Mr. Maker is the culprit," I said.

"Oh, it should be pretty obvious," scoffed Bon-Bon.

"Well, just for clarity's sake, perhaps you should enlighten us," I said, folding my forelegs.

"Alright then, I will," said Bon-Bon, clearing her throat.

***
Argument: Star Maker's Crime
***

"We already know that Star Maker wants to sign Lyra up for a contract and make her a star or some such crap," said Bon-Bon. "It's clear to me that he still thinks that Lyra's decision is not her own, even though it clearly is. So, he had an argument with her, and then kidnapped her. This letter was meant for me, saying that I had to give her up if I wanted her to be safe."

Her argument was fine up until that last part. It's obvious that she's not thinking clearly. Although I truly sympathize with her, I had to set her straight. No good would come out of a false accusation.

"So, you claim that this letter was meant for you," I said.

"Who else could it be for?" Bon-Bon snapped.

"Mind reading it again?"

Bon-Bon blinked. "What?"

"Not once in the letter did Lyra mention your name," I said. "In fact, in the postscript, she says; 'Whoever is reading this, do the opposite of that.' First of all, why would she say that and not just tell you where she is? Second, if this was meant for you, why didn't she refer to you by name?"

Bon-Bon's face turned beet red. "I, um, I... BUCK ME!"

She of course had no response for that. Obviously, she had skipped over that part of the letter and jumped to conclusions.

"So you see, Ms. Bon-Bon. Mr. Maker had nothing to do with Lyra's abduction," I said.

"W-wait a minute!" said Bon-Bon. "If that's so, then what about this? 'If you want to see me again, give into the demands.' What the hay is she talking about if not this dock-hole trying to run her life?!"

"Ms. Bon-Bon, I'm not demanding anything of Ms. Heartstrings!" protested Star Maker.

"My flank you're not!" Bon-Bon barked back.

"Ms. Bon-Bon, please. Calm yourself," I said sternly. "I think I may have the answer."

Bon-Bon's eyes went wide. "Wh-what? What are you talking about?"

I breathed a deep sigh. This was going to be painful.

"Ms. Bon-Bon, did Lyra get any letters when you checked into the hotel?" I asked.

Bon-Bon struck a thinking attitude. "Now that you mention it, she did mention something about a stupid prank. What about it?"

"It very well may not be a prank," I said darkly. "It's a death threat, saying that if Lyra plays music ever again, she would be killed."

Bon-Bon's mane stood up on-end. "H-How do you know that?"

"I got the same letter," I said. "So did Vinyl and Neon Lights. In fact, I think every musician here got that letter. It's just a theory, but it's possible that whoever sabotaged Vinyl's set last night has also kidnapped Lyra. I can't say for certain why, but whatever the case, she could be in real danger right now. And the same goes for everypony else here."

"Oh, please!" Star Maker said with a snicker. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! There isn't a creature alive who doesn't like some form of music!"

"Hey, buddy. Octy's trying to save your flank from Bon-Bon's wrath," said Vinyl sternly. "Show her a bit of gratitude, why doncha?"

"Well, surely she can do that without sounding completely insane," said Star Maker, cleaning his shades with his handkerchief.

"Listen, I wish I was joking about this," I said with a sigh. "But, I don't think we can just dismiss it anymore."

Bon-Bon folded her ears back and stared at the ground. "B-but, who would do this?" she whimpered.

"I don't know," I said. "But I intend to find out."

Star Maker chuckled. "Well, I've certainly had my fill of this absurdity. If you'll excuse me, I'll see if there's anypony else here interested in becoming a star. Hope you all find Ms. Heartstrings, though. I still would like to see her reach her full potential."

With that, he marched off. Vinyl scowled.

"I can see why you don't like that guy," she said. "He's rubbing me the wrong way, too."

"Ditto," said Mike, picking up the ransom note with his magic. "I'm gonna let Slick know about this, and I'll have Point Dexter look into it. Don't worry, ma'am. We'll find Ms. Heartstrings even if we have to turn all of Lincolt Center upside-down."

Bon-Bon nodded. "Th-thank you," she whispered. She then walked slowly away.

"I'd better go with her," said Vinyl. "It looks like she needs some support right now. Seeya later, Tavi."

She then followed Bon-Bon out the door. I gave her a soft smile as she left. There are three truths I've come to learn about Vinyl Scratch. She won't tell you a lie, she won't cross the line once it's been drawn, and she'll never abandon a friend in need. So, beneath all of that bombastic lunacy, she's actually a real sweetheart.

"What do you think Slick Licks will do about this?" I asked, turning back to Mike.

"Probably rearrange the schedule," said Mike with a shrug. "You know what they say: The show must go on. I just hope it doesn't come to that."

"Me neither," I said. "Um, about the death threat theory I mentioned..."

"Before you ask, the jury's still out as far as I'm concerned," said Mike. "It's pretty hard to swallow, but you did know about the transmitter. I'm gonna stay on the fence until I've got some more proof. No offense, Melody."

"None taken," I said with a sigh. "Actually, I wish I was wrong about all this."

Without saying another word, I left with a heavy heart. Lyra's well-being still weighed heavily on my mind, and no amount of festivities would alleviate the burden. Mind you, I did bring this upon myself by insisting to investigate. Well, all I can do at this point is knock on wood and hope that Lyra is found soon.

...

And as long as I'm engaging in wishful thinking, I'd like this nightmare to end now, please.

Karma's Curse

April 9, 6:25 PM
Lincolt Center
The Bent Trumpet
***

Well, it appears that neither of my wishes have been granted. It has been several hours now, and Lyra is still nowhere to be found. Thus, this nightmare will continue. I can't say I'm all that surprised, but I can't say I'm happy about it, either.

I decided to join Vinyl for dinner and help her console the still-despondent Bon-Bon. She was a lot more mellow than she was before, but she was still taking this pretty hard. I truly sympathize with her. I don't wish to engage in any idle gossip during such a delicate situation, so I'll just say that she and Lyra are very close. As such, it's only natural that she'd be in such low spirits.

"I was so proud of Lyra when she got invited to perform at this year's festival," Bon-Bon murmured. "This was gonna be her big night."

"I know," I said soothingly. "I was, greatly looking forward to it myself."

"Yeah, same here," said Vinyl. "Do you know what she had lined up?"

Bon-Bon let out a bitter chuckle. "Yeah, but she made me promise not to tell. It was going to be a surprise."

"And, you're still not telling," said Vinyl.

Bon-Bon shook her head. "Sorry, no."

Vinyl grinned. "Good to see you've still got hope that she'll pull through this."

Bon-Bon chuckled again. "Yeah, well. I know Lyra. She's one tough pony. I'm sure she's hanging in there, wherever she is."

"Well, her note did say not to worry about her," said Vinyl with a chuckle of her own.

I sighed inwardly. I couldn't say for certain if Lyra was just putting on a brave face or if she was actually okay. Still, I felt it best to keep that thought to myself. I didn't want to dampen Bon-Bon's spirits with my own worries. She needed all the support she could get.

"Vinyl and I can help you look for her tomorrow if you want," I suggested.

Bon-Bon smiled at me. "Thanks, but you guys don't need to do that. You've done enough for me already. Besides, Lyra wouldn't want me running around and making a fool of myself."

"You mean like you've been doing already?" said Vinyl, raising an eyebrow.

"Vinyl~!" I scolded.

"No, it's alright. She has a point," said Bon-Bon with a self-mocking grin.

"I know, but she should at least show a bit of decorum," I said sternly.

"Well, hello there, Scratch."

A smug, all-too-familiar voice made itself known, and I heaved a great sigh. This could only end poorly. I turned around in my seat, and sure enough, there stood Symphony with Concerto right behind her. Her complacent expression led me to believe that she wasn't here to offer her condolences.

"Not now, Symphony. We're busy," said Vinyl sternly.

"Oh, this'll only take a second," said Symphony. "You see, I have a bit of news for you."

"Not interested. Piss off," Vinyl growled.

Symphony pouted. "Ugh, you pseudo musicians always have to be so rude," she said, folding her forelegs.

"Really not in the mood for this, Symphony," Vinyl said through gritted teeth.

"Fine. Be that way," huffed Symphony. "I guess I won't tell you who's performing tonight due to Ms. Heartstrings's absence."

"It's you, isn't it?" said Vinyl.

Symphony paused for a moment, and then scoffed. "Humph. Lucky guess," she said.

"Luck had nothing to do with it, Symphony. I figured it out the moment you approached us," I said firmly. "Anyway, Vinyl's right. This really isn't the time for you to parade in here and gloat."

"See? I told you," said Concerto meekly.

"Shut up, Concerto," Symphony grumbled before turning back to us. "Anyway, Scratch. Prepare to have your meager little set overshadowed by a true artist."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm so frightened," said Vinyl sarcastically. "Now will you get outta here?"

Symphony snickered. "Mock me while you can, Scratch. Because your noise can never compare to..."

"Do you just not care?"

Symphony blinked at my interruption. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"The reason Lyra cannot perform tonight as scheduled is because she's been kidnapped, Symphony," I said, looking her straight in the eye. "You may be a snob, but I never imagined you to be this cold. Show a bit of respect."

Symphony gasped. "Wait, she's been what?"

"Kidnapped," I said. "And no, I'm not joking. Ask security if you don't believe me."

Symphony's face flushed red. "B-but that's ridiculous. I mean, there's no way... Are you...? How did...?"

"Why do you think we don't want to hear you blowing your own trumpet right now?" said Vinyl, folding her forelegs.

Symphony had no real retort for that. "W-well, my performance w-will still be ten times better than y-yours!" she sputtered. "Y-you just wait and see, Scratch! C-come along, Concerto!"

Thoroughly embarrassed, she marched out of the cabaret. Concerto sighed.

"We, honestly didn't know," he said with a bow. "On Symphony's behalf, I truly apologize for this. You have our condolences."

With that, he rushed off after his partner. I let out a sigh of my own.

"Honestly, she should really learn to use that brain of hers," I said. "Are you alright, Ms. Bon-Bon?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," said Bon-Bon. "Really, I'm too exhausted to get mad anymore."

"Well, at least we can say this much," said Vinyl.

I had a good feeling as to what was coming next. "What's that, then?"

"I may lack decorum, but at least I'm not like Symphony."

And wouldn't you know it? I was right. I simply sighed and shook my head. "That doesn't justify your actions, Vinyl," I said.

***
April 9, 6:57 PM
Lincolt Center
The Whinnyton Maresalis Theater
***

After dinner, we all headed over to the theater for the big performance. I managed to find a seat next to Pitch Perfect, who was talking to Beauty Brass.

"Oh, hey there Octy," said Beauty Brass with a friendly wave. "Pitch and I were just trying to guess who's performing tonight. You know, with Ms. Heartstrings missing and all."

So, it appears that everypony knows about Lyra's disappearance. I was somewhat expecting that. If they didn't hear about it from the security, they certainly heard about it from Bon-Bon running herself ragged all day.

"It's a dang shame, really," said Pitch, furrowing her brow. "Kazooie an' I were really lookin' forward to hearin' Lyra. She's a big hit over in Ponyville, so I reckon she'd be a big hit here, too."

"You'll get no argument from me," I said. "Still, I'm sure she'll be found. She'll just be performing on a different day, that's all."

At least, I hope that's the case. But again, that's the worrywart in me talking, and I didn't want to spook Pitch and Beauty Brass. Especially not Beauty Brass.

After a few minutes, Slick Licks came out onstage and was greeted by a round of applause. He bowed a few times before raising his hoof.

"Welcome back, fillies and gentlecolts," said he. "We hope you're all enjoying the festival so far. Tonight, there's gonna be a change in the program. Due to circumstances beyond our control, Lyra Heartstrings's performance has been switched to a different day."

Everypony already knew this, so there was no muttering of confusion beyond the occasional "What do you think happened to her?" After a pause, Slick Licks cleared his throat.

"That being said, tonight's performance is still gonna be sweet," he said. "We've decided to take it slow for all you classy ponies out there. Straight from Canterlot, these two are a duo that can't be beat. Or, so they claim."

I stifled a laugh, and I clearly wasn't the only one. I can just imagine the anger that Symphony must be trying to keep under control right now. I know, I know. I shouldn't laugh at her like that. I blame Vinyl for corrupting me.

"Well, we'll just have to see if they've got the talent to match their claim," said Slick Licks. "Let's all give a warm welcome to Symphony and Concerto!"

There was a round of applause as the two violinists took the stage. Symphony seemed to be taking Slick Licks's insult in stride, which was not that surprising. Despite being a snob with a big ego, she at least tries to be professional whilst onstage. She and Concerto gave the audience a friendly wave before standing up on their hind legs and raising their bows.

Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pitch's ear twitch. Curious, I turned to look at her. She appeared to be troubled.

"What's wrong?" I whispered.

"Somethin' ain't right," she muttered darkly. "I can't quite put my hoof on it, but..."

Before she could continue, there was a sharp twang and a shriek. I turned back to the stage and gasped. One of the strings on Symphony's violin had snapped and scraped her cheek. Surprised and disoriented, she stumbled back and fell to the ground with an unceremonious thud. Concerto was quick to notice this.

"Symphony!" he exclaimed, rushing over to help her.

As he did so, I saw Pitch's ear twitch yet again. Before I could ask her about it, a familiar shadow rushed onstage and pushed Symphony and Concerto out of the way. A second later, there was a snap, and a sandbag fell from above and landed where Symphony and Concerto just were. My heart stopped for a moment as the sandbag made contact with the stage. Just like Vinyl's set, Symphony's concert was cut short due to an attempt on her life.

Concerned, I made my way through the crowd and rushed up onstage. When I got there, I saw the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well standing in the shadows while Concerto tried to sort himself out. With a salute, Mare-Do-Well disappeared.

"Th-that was too close," said Concerto, still appearing to be rather shaken. "Symphony, are you alright?"

Symphony rubbed her cheek and growled. "Augh. That stings," she hissed. "Wh-what just happ—?"

She then saw the sandbag laying onstage. Her eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped. All was silent for a time.

"Um, Symphony?" said Concerto nervously.

Symphony rubbed her cheek again and looked at her hoof. She saw that she was bleeding. Her body trembled.

"Th-that looks like a nasty cut," said Concerto, holding out his hoof. "Here, let's get you patched up. Then we can go back onstage."

Symphony didn't even look up at Concerto. She was too busy staring at her hoof.

"Oh, Celestia. Oh Celestia, this is real," she murmured. "I-I can't..."

Concerto tilted his head. "Symphony, what's gotten into you?"

Symphony's breathing became erratic. "No. No no no no. Th-this can't be happening. Th-that letter couldn't have been serious."

"I-I'm sure it was just an accident. N-nothing to get excited over," said Concerto, although he didn't sound too sure of himself. "Seriously, not even I was scared by that phony threat, and you know how timid I get."

Symphony shook her head. "I-I don't know anymore, Concerto. I-I just don't."

From there, she started sobbing. I can't say for sure, but I think Symphony's a bit conflicted. Her pride won't allow her to admit that she's wrong, but at the same time, she doesn't want to die. Concerto sighed.

"Well, what are we going to do?" he asked. "We shouldn't disappoint the audience, but I can't do this without you."

Symphony didn't respond. She just sat there, crying. I decided to intervene.

"I'm sure the audience will understand," I said. "The same thing happened last night with Vinyl, after all."

Symphony looked up at me for a brief moment, and then turned away. "D-don't look at me," she sniveled. "Y-you can't see me like this."

Concerto sighed again. "Come, Symphony. You're obviously in no condition to perform tonight."

He then hefted her up and placed her foreleg around his shoulder. Symphony didn't bother fighting back, probably due to shock. As I watched Concerto carry his partner away, I felt my heart sink. Now I knew for a fact that this was real. Symphony and Concerto got the same death threat, and they almost paid the price for defying it. Someone out there is holding a sword over all of our heads, threatening to drop it if we play music. I don't know why he'd do this, or who he is (if it is a he), or even who's next on his blacklist. But I do know one thing. I have to stop him. I just wish I knew how to go about doing that...

Drunken Wisdom

April 9, 7:07 PM
Coltumbus Circle
***

With Symphony and Concerto incapacitated and nothing else lined up for tonight, we all left the theater early and went our separate ways. I didn't really like that. If the killer's goal is to stop us from playing music, then he won tonight. Symphony didn't even get to play a single note. Some ponies would probably say that she had it coming due to her attitude, but I beg to differ. Nopony deserves to be held hostage like this.

My legs felt like lead as I dragged myself to the curb. Just like last night with Vinyl, I couldn't get my thoughts in order. But this time, it was due to exhaustion rather than shock. The whole investigation really took a lot out of me, and what's worse, I don't feel like I made a whole lot of progress. A proper detective would probably stick around and investigate more, but I just wanted to get back to my hotel room and collapse into bed. I'd make a smart remark here, but I'm too tired to think.

I got ready to hail a cab when I heard an all-too-familiar voice call out to me.

"Hey, Tavi-doll!"

I sighed and turned around. Sure enough, there was Sapphire Shores. Oddly enough, Silenus was walking alongside her. Well, if you could call it walking; it looked more like he was swerving back and forth at random. Not wanting to be rude, I gave them a friendly wave.

"Glad I was able to catch you," said Sapphire as she walked up to me. "Listen, have you seen Pan anywhere?"

"Not since this morning," I said. "Why? Wasn't he with you?"

"We parted ways at lunch," said Sapphire. "I haven't seen him since. And meanwhile, this lush has been giving security a hard time."

"I'm telling ya, that shadow'sh shpying on ush!" slurred Silenus.

Sapphire rolled her eyes before turning back to me. "Anyway, I thought I'd give the security guards a break and walk him back to the hotel. Would you like to join us?"

"Mmm, sure," I said wearily.

Sapphire's face clouded with worry. "Damn, Tavi-doll. You look like you're ready to start singing the blues," she said.

"S-sorry," I said. "It's, just been a rough day for me."

"Wanna drink?" said Silenus, offering his flask.

"N-no, thank you," I said. "I, don't want to be an extra burden to Ms. Sh— Sapphire here."

Sapphire let out a muted chuckle. "Thanks for that, Tavi-doll," she said as we began walking. "So, what's got you down? Ms. Heartstrings's disappearance? Symphony's accident? Or are you still fretting over last night?"

"Try all three, and then some," I said.

Sapphire whistled. "Yeesh, Tavi-doll. No wonder you're so gloomy."

"Y-y'know what I think? I think she'sh worrying too much," said Silenus. "Y-you shaid sho yourshelf, didn't ya, Shapphire?"

"Yeah, but I don't really blame her for getting all worked up," said Sapphire, furrowing her brow. "This festival hasn't exactly been running all that smoothly thus far. Well, at least as far as the main events are concerned."

Wait a tick. I think Sapphire has a point there. Just to make sure, I decided to press further.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" I inquired.

"Simple, Tavi-doll. Other than the main events, the festival has been simply sensational," said Sapphire. "From what I've seen today, most ponies are enjoying themselves and having a great time. I know I am."

It was just as I suspected. All of the victims thus far were only those who performed or were going to perform at the big events. But, that didn't match up with what the death threat promised. I can't even begin to guess why that is, nor do I really have the strength to try.

"Well, I dunno about any of that," said Silenus. "B-but, I do know one thing."

"Yeah? What's that?" asked Sapphire.

"All that shtuff that'sh been happening sho far ain't gonna happen to you an' Pan."

Sapphire chuckled. "Well, we can only hope," she said with a shrug.

"N-no, I'm sherioush," said Silenus, quickening his pace and walking in between us. "I know thish for a fact."

Sapphire raised an eyebrow. "You do, do you?" she said. "Why do you say that?"

"Becaushe Pan'sh mushic ish shpecial."

I gave Silenus an odd look. "All music is special, Mr. Silenus. At least in my book."

"Nononono, you don't undershtand," said Silenus. "Pan can do magic with hish mushic."

"Right," I said, not believing him for a moment. "I know you're a big fan of his, but don't you think you're exaggerating just a tad?"

"Madam, I-I would not exaggerate about shomthing like thish," said Silenus indignantly. "I've sheen it with my own eyesh."

Sapphire stroked her chin in thought before her face lit up. "Hold up there, Silenus. Are you talking about Pan's Music Code?"

That's, honestly a new one on me. Then again, I don't claim to know everything about every musician in Equestria.

"You got it," said Silenus with a wide grin. "Whatever goesh wrong, he'll make it right. You'll shee onche he takesh the shtage."

"But, I thought that was just a myth," said Sapphire. "Y'know, like the one about him inventing the panpipes."

"No, it'sh quite real. I've sheen it," Silenus insisted. "But you're right about that panpipesh one. Sherioushly, where do poniesh get that crazhy idea, anyway?"

"Um, forgive me for interrupting, but I've never heard of Pan's Music Code before," I said.

"I wouldn't expect you to, Tavi-doll. It's not exactly common knowledge," said Sapphire. "Heck, I only know about it through this obscure book I got from a library in Ponyville."

"Well, what exactly is it?" I asked.

"According to what I read, Pan developed a theory that magic could be performed through music," Sapphire explained. "I don't exactly know where he got this idea or how it would work, but magic isn't really my forte. To make a long story short, he supposedly figured it out and wrote out an entire songbook full of incantations. That's Pan's Music Code in a nutshell."

"It's actually more complicated than that," said Silenus, sounding a lot more sober. "See, any satyr can perform magic if they choose to pursue it. It's part of how they become one with nature, which is the cornerstone of satyr society. But to combine that woodland magic with music is something only Pan came up with. It's practically been his life's work."

"You don't say," said I. "And, that's why you think Pan will have no problems during his performance with Sapphire Shores?"

"I'd bet my flask on it," said Silenus firmly. "And trust me, Sapphire. It's no myth."

"I'll believe it when I see it, Silenus," said Sapphire. "Besides, Pan never mentioned the Music Code to me while we were planning our performance today."

"Eh, I'm sure he'll get around to it," said Silenus, taking a swig from his flask. "Th-the point is that if something does go wrong, Pan's prepared. So you've, got nothing to worry about."

Sapphire giggled. "I'll be sure to make a note of that," she said just as we arrived at the hotel. "Well, looks like we're here. I'm gonna go ask the concierge if Pan's come back yet."

"Right, good thinking," I said. "I'll just head back to my room. I've had a long day."

"Yeah, I hear ya," said Sapphire. "See you tomorrow, Tavi-doll."

"Have a pleasant evening, madam," said Silenus with a bow.

"Right, thank you," I said with a nod of my own. "Good night."

As I headed up to my room, I took a moment to reflect on our conversation. It doesn't seem like Pan's Music Code has anything to do with this mystery. Or, does it? The way Silenus brought it up, it sounded like he was expecting something to happen at the performance. Plus, he has been eyeing Mare-Do-Well's shadow with a great deal of suspicion. Could it be that Silenus suspects foul play, just like I did when this whole mess started? And does Pan know about this? It didn't seem like it when I talked to him this morning.

Ugh, it seems like every time I get some new information, it just leads to more questions that need answers. I-I'm almost at the end of my rope, and I've only been at this for a day. If it wasn't for Vinyl and Fiddlesticks supporting me, I'd surely crack. Whose bright idea was it to make me play detective, anyway?

...

Oh, right. Mine. Ugh, bollocks. Well, not much I can do about that. I just have to hope that I can at least make some sense of all this tomorrow. I'm fed up with simply spinning my wheels and not getting anywhere.

Lost and Found

April 10, 8:45 AM
The Marerriot Hotel
Room 308
***

I awoke to the sound of somepony knocking on my door. I found this odd, because I remember putting up the Do Not Disturb sign before going into my room last night. Odder still, when I looked at the clock, it was a lot later than I'm accustomed to getting up. I say "accustomed" because usually Vinyl wakes me up at the crack of dawn, even though there are days when I want to sleep late. In my current state, I can't even begin to guess who it was, or why they had no respect for my privacy.

With a yawn, I dragged myself out of bed and hobbled over to the door. When I opened it, I was greeted by a grim sight. There stood Fiddlesticks, looking like she had just seen a ghost. Her face had lost all color, and she was short of breath. Warning bells were going off in my head, and I mentally braced myself for whatever bad news she had to bear.

"Fiddlesticks? What's wrong?" I asked.

"Ah think we're in deep trouble, Tavia," said Fiddlesticks glumly.

I blinked. "Um, I already know that, Fiddle. You didn't need to wake me up in order to tell me."

"No, ya don't understand," said Fiddlesticks, shaking her head. "Listen, do ya remember when Ah said that Ah'd be lookin' fer that death threat y'all told me about?"

"Yes, what about it?"

"Well, Ah found it," said Fiddlesticks. "An' it was jus' as you described. But that's not what got me riled up."

I tilted my head. "Then, what is?"

"This mornin', jus' as Ah woke up, Ah found another note laying under the door," said Fiddlesticks. "It was fer Pitch Perfect, an', well, jus' read it."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a note. As she gave it to me, she lowered her stetson over her eyes. With a sigh, I accepted the note and unfurled it. It read as follows:

Pitch Perfect:

It's not nice to eavesdrop. Stop hearing me, or I might just have to take your precious ears away.

Once I put the pieces together, a burst of adrenaline flowing through my veins woke me right up as fear gripped my heart. Last night, before Symphony's performance was cut short, I remember Pitch reacting to a strange sound she heard. Not only that, but according to her, the same thing happened during Vinyl's set when she caught the misplaced beeps in Neon's piece. Could it be that the killer knew she was hearing all this and saw her as a liability? How was that even possible?

"When Ah saw that note, Ah reckoned it was best to come getcha," said Fiddlesticks, still obscuring her eyes with her hat. "'Cause believe it or not, that ain't the worst of it."

There's more?! Oh, sweet Celestia!

"Wh-what do you mean?" I asked.

"Check the schedule," said Fiddlesticks.

I went back into my room and fetched the itinerary I left laying on the nightstand. Right away, I saw what had Fiddlesticks so upset. Tonight's performance was Kazooie's band. And since the killer was apparently keeping tabs on Pitch Perfect, well, I don't think I need to say anything more. Nor do I want to. The very thought just sends chills up and down my spine.

"Oh dear," I murmured, looking up at Fiddlesticks. "Does Pitch know about this?"

"Nah. She's not up yet," said Fiddlesticks with a sigh. "Ah dunno how she's gonna take it, though. This is some pretty scary stuff."

"To say the least," I said. "But, now that I think about it, why did the killer deliver this particular threat to you instead of her?"

"That's easy enough to explain," said Fiddlesticks. "Ah'm actually bunkin' with Pitch. Ah was plannin' on stayin' with some folks Ah know here in Manehattan, but Pitch insisted that Ah stick with the other musicians here. Ah saw her point, an' we ended up goin' fifty-fifty on a small room jus' down the hall."

"I see," I said with a nod. "Well, getting back on track, what do you plan to do?"

Fiddlesticks heaved a great sigh and looked up at me with misty eyes. "Ah ain't gonna lie, Tavia. Ah'm scared. Ah really don't wanna die, an' Ah don't wanna lose mah friends, neither. But Ah ain't gonna give this sunnova bitch the satisfaction of breakin' me. If he wants me to stop playin' mah fiddle, he's gonna have to pry it from mah cold, dead hooves."

Those are brave words, and I don't doubt Fiddlesticks's resolve for a second. After all, I feel the same way. However, I could see her tremble ever so slightly as she spoke. I walked up to her and nuzzled her cheek, feeling some of her tears rub off on me as I did so.

"Well, we're just going to have to make sure it doesn't come to that," I said softly. "We'll have to work extra hard to make sure we catch whoever is behind all this before then."

"Ah can get behind that," said Fiddlesticks. "But, where do we start?"

That was a good question. There were a few avenues to explore, but I couldn't be sure as to where any of them would lead, or if they would lead anywhere at all. After a pause, I decided to just run down the list.

"Well, we have a few options," I said. "First, there's the matter of last night's incident with Symphony. I was sitting next to Pitch at the time, and she said that something didn't feel right. This was right before Symphony's violin string broke."

"Yep, the ole ear twitch," said Fiddlesticks with a contemplative nod. "Ah've seen it before. Whenever Pitch's ears are a'twichin', she probably heard sumthin'."

"Then it's little wonder that the killer would see her as a liability," I mused. "She's privy to his plans. But that begs the question as to how the killer knows that she's hearing him."

"Let's cross that bridge when we get to it, Tavia," said Fiddlesticks. "Speakin' of bridges, we'll need to get Symphony's perspective on this, too."

"If she's willing to talk," I sighed. "She's probably devastated about last night. But, what insight would she have to offer?"

"When her violin string broke, did ya notice that it scratched her cheek?" said Fiddlesticks.

"Well, I would figure that everypony noticed that," I said. "Why?"

"Y'all know yer way around string instruments, Tavia. Think about it," said Fiddlesticks. "Doesn't it strike ya as odd?"

I began to see what she was talking about. In my experience, that would only happen if the violin string snapped at the bridge of the instrument while it was being played. It certainly is possible for that to happen if the strings got worn down to the point where they were too small to slide around in the ridges of the bridge. However, this is Symphony we're talking about. She's a perfectionist in every sense of the word. She wouldn't go on stage if there was a speck of dust on her violin, let alone a weak string (and I'm not joking about that, either. I've seen her clean her violin and hold up a performance simply because of something only she could see. And ponies say I'm fussy).

"Now that you mention it, that is quite odd," I said. "Symphony takes very good care of her violin. If a string was weak, especially towards the bridge, she probably would've corrected it long before she got onstage."

"Glad we're on the same page," said Fiddlesticks with a nod. "Trust me, you don't know how many times Kazooie has lectured me about busted strings, so Ah think Ah know what Ah'm talkin' about."

I, couldn't really comment on that, so I decided to move on. "Right. Now, the third thing we need to do is find Lyra. She's still missing, and nopony knows where she's being held."

"Held?" parroted Fiddlesticks, raising an eyebrow.

"She's been ponynapped," I said. "I don't know if it's the killer or not, but Vinyl found a note from her in Performance Studio B where she was last seen."

Fiddlesticks snorted and obscured her eyes with her hat. "Great. As if this couldn't get any worse."

"Believe me, I've found myself thinking that once or twice," I said with a sigh. "Seeing as there are three of us investigating, it would be wise for us to look into different things."

"Sounds good," said Fiddlesticks. "Ah'll look into what happened last night. Shouldn't take me too long with Pitch's help."

"Right. I'll see if I can get any details from Symphony," I said. "I figure I'll have enough patience to deal with her. Vinyl can..."

I trailed off as I realized something. "Wait a tick. Where is Vinyl?"

"Hey, Octy! Hey, Fiddle!"

Ask a silly question, get a silly answer. Sure enough, Vinyl came running in carrying a paper back with her magic.

"Vinyl? Where were you?" I inquired, more curious than upset. "And, what's that?"

"I went out and got us some muffins," said Vinyl. "I know you had a pretty rough day yesterday, so I figured I'd treat ya."

I smiled. She's still just as full of energy as ever. And for that, I'm grateful. I need somepony to keep my spirits up in these dark times.

"Thank you, Vinyl," I said. "Would you care to join us, Fiddle?"

"Thanks, but Ah'm good," said Fiddlesticks. "Ah'd better let Pitch know 'bout this. Ah jus' hope she doesn't freak out. Seeya 'round."

With a tip of her hat, she headed back to her room. Vinyl raised an eyebrow.

"What's she talking about, Tavi?" she inquired.

I sighed. "Let's discuss it over breakfast. Suffice to say, things are getting a bit more dangerous..."

***
April 10, 10:05 AM
Coltlumbus Circle
***

"I dunno, Octy. No matter how many times I run it through my head, it still doesn't make any sense," said Vinyl as we arrived outside of Lincolt Center. "There's no way this dock-hole is spying on our every move. If he was, then Pitch Perfect is the least of his problems."

"True," I said. "But, there's no other explanation for that threat Fiddlesticks found this morning."

"There's no real explanation for kidnapping Lyra, either," said Vinyl, furrowing her brow. "I'm beginning to think that this guy didn't really think the whole thing through."

I can't really confirm or deny that. "Well, whatever the case, we should work on finding him before the day is through," I said. "We can't afford anymore incidents."

Vinyl nodded. "I hear ya, Tavi. But that might be easier said than..."

"Hey there!"

Vinyl was interrupted by Bon-Bon walking up behind us. She appeared to be feeling somewhat better than yesterday, at least as far as I could tell.

"Oh, hey Bonny. What's up?" asked Vinyl.

"Well, I got a letter from Pan this morning," said Bon-Bon. "He said he had a surprise for me here at Coltlumbus Circle. Would you two know anything about that?"

Vinyl and I shared a shrug. "I can't say that we do, Ms. Bon-Bon," I said. "Actually, I haven't even seen him since yesterday mor—"

I trailed off when I noticed that Vinyl and Bon-Bon were staring blankly at something. I looked over to where they were staring, and my jaw dropped. Sitting off to the side on a park bench was none other than Lyra Heartstrings, safe and sound. I-I could hardly believe it.

"L-Lyra? I-is that you?" said Bon-Bon meekly.

Lyra looked up and gave us a warm smile. "Good to see you, Bons. Sorry for disappearing like that. I didn't mean to."

Overcome with emotion, Bon-Bon ran up to Lyra and threw her forelegs around her. Lyra responded in kind, rubbing Bon-Bon's back as she sobbed into her chest.

"Y-you had me worried sick," Bon-Bon blubbered. "Wh-where the hay were you? What happened?"

That's what I wanted to know as well. But Lyra didn't seem to be in the mood for talking.

"It's, complicated," she said, continuing to hold Bon-Bon close. "I'll tell you about it later, I promise. The important thing right now is that I'm alright."

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure how to feel right now. Part of me is happy to see her unharmed, but I also find myself quite puzzled. Did Pan somehow rescue her from her kidnapper? Is that why he seemingly disappeared yesterday? Where did he find her, exactly? If I wasn't so relieved to know that Lyra's safe, I'd probably be slamming my head against the wall.

"I think we should leave these two alone," said Vinyl. "They've both been through a lot."

"Agreed," I said before turning to Lyra. "I'm, glad to see that you're safe, Lyra. It's good to have you back."

"Thanks, Octavia. It's good to be back," said Lyra. "Oh, speaking of which, could you let Slick know I'm okay? I, might be a while."

I nodded. "Consider it done. I'm sure he'll be very happy to hear that," said I. "Well, I suppose I'll see you later, Lyra."

"Yeah, seeya."

With that, Vinyl and I left Lyra and Bon-Bon to their tender moment as we entered Lincolt Center.

Author's Note

((OOC: Special thanks to PageTurner for the violin physics lesson. :twilightsmile:))

Confrontation: Star Maker

April 10, 10:07 AM
Lincolt Center
Main Floor

"Look, madam. I'm trying to be reasonable here."

"Reasonable?! Falsely accusing me of ponynapping is reasonable to you?! Are you brain dead?!"

"There's no use getting angry about it. I know you did it."

Well, this is a sight I never thought I'd see. When Vinyl and I entered Lincolt Center, we were immediately treated to a loud quarrel between Star Maker and Symphony. Actually, the way they were going, I think the entire floor was privy to their conversation. I actually feel sorry for Symphony. After what happened last night, this is the last thing she needs. I walked up to them and cleared my throat.

"Um, excuse me..."

Symphony whipped around. When she saw who it was, she quickly averted her eyes and hid her face. For a brief moment, I saw that the cut on her cheek was patched up. She obviously didn't want me to see it, not that there was any point in her trying to save face. Everypony saw what happened last night.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," I said. "I just managed to overhear your conversation, and..."

"You thought that you could throw it off track with that crazy conspiracy theory of yours?" said Star Maker, cutting across me. "Well, don't even bother. I have already solved the mystery of Ms. Heartstrings's disappearance."

Considering that I just talked to Lyra, I highly doubt that.

"D-don't believe a word he says," said Concerto meekly. "W-we were just minding our own business when he showed up and started harassing Symphony for no good reason."

"'No good reason' my fanny," said Star Maker with a snort. "It's obvious to me that she kidnapped Ms. Heartstrings. I'm simply giving her a chance to confess and turn her over so that we don't have to get the police involved."

"This is an outrage!" Symphony screamed. "I have no godly idea where Ms. Heartstrings is!"

"Scream all you want; it won't change a thing," said Star Maker. "Either you relinquish Ms. Heartstrings and we'll forget this little matter, or I'm calling the police."

"Hey, dock-hole. If you think Symphony's the kidnapper, wouldn't you call the police anyway?" said Vinyl, raising an eyebrow. "Or do you just want to pressure Lyra into your precious contract?"

"You two stay out of this," Star Maker spat. "This is between me and Ms. Symphony."

"Not if the entire building can hear you," I said sternly. "What's more, I doubt Slick Licks would appreciate you calling the police and creating a disturbance over a false accusation."

"This coming from the pony who thinks someone is out to destroy all music," Star Maker retorted haughtily. "So sorry, Ms. Octavia, but unlike your crackpot theory, this actually makes sense."

"A crackpot theory it may be, Mr. Maker, but at least I have proof," I said, standing my ground. "And before you go about indicting my colleague for something she couldn't possibly have done, I'd like to see your proof."

Star Maker took off his shades and cleaned them with his handkerchief. "I suppose it's understandable that you don't believe me," he said. "But you'll surely change your tune once you understand my reasoning. It's all quite simple, when you think about it."

Simply convoluted, more like. I honestly have no idea how Star Maker came to this bizarre conclusion. I suppose I'm about to find out.

***
Argument: Symphony's Crime
***

"It all became apparent to me yesterday, when Ms. Heartstrings's replacement was announced," said Star Maker. "I first heard about it from Ms. Symphony herself, who seemed rather pleased about this fact. Then I checked the itinerary. Lo and behold, Symphony and Concerto weren't scheduled to perform until the day before the finale. Putting two and two together, it's obvious that Ms. Symphony kidnapped Ms. Heartstrings in order to be moved up in the docket."

That, is probably the worst argument ever. Of all time. I mean, where does he get off thinking that's a rational explanation? I don't even know where to start. Oh well, there's no way around it. I'll just have to try and make this as painless as possible, though goodness knows he doesn't deserve it.

"Let's start with the obvious problem," I said. "If your theory is correct, then Lyra's note doesn't make sense."

"It's a better explanation than some mad conspiracy theory," said Star Maker bluntly.

"That's not what I'm referring to, but it's good to know that you're keeping an open mind," I said dryly. "Now then, let me ask you something about the note. Who was it addressed to?"

Star Maker raised his shades. "Addressed to?" he parroted. "It wasn't addressed to anypony."

"Exactly," I said. "Now, if Symphony was indeed the kidnapper, wouldn't the note be addressed to somepony specifically? Say, Slick Licks, the organizer of this event?"

Star Maker chuckled. "Quite shrewd, Ms. Octavia. But I won't fall into your trap. For you see, the note wasn't written by Ms. Heartstrings, but by Ms. Symphony. She was trying to cover her tracks."

"That's a bold claim, Mr. Maker. Can you prove it?"

"No, but you can't disprove it, either."

Is he— Is he being serious right now? Does he really not understand how this works? Ugh, my head.

"It doesn't matter if I can disprove it or not," I said, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "You made the claim, ergo the burden of proof is on you. Now, can you prove that Symphony wrote the note, yes or no?"

"Well, no. But..."

"Then your claim holds no water," I interrupted. "So, what were you saying about avoiding my trap?"

Star Maker wiped a bit of sweat off his brow. "L-look, the note is nothing but a red herring. It must be. There's no way Ms. Heartstrings wrote it. What, did somepony put a knife to her throat and demand her to write it? That only happens in crime novels."

"The truth is sometimes stranger than fiction, Mr. Maker," I said. "Besides which, that's not the only problem I have with your theory. Not by a long shot."

Star Maker blinked. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Well, it's like this," I said. "I talked to Symphony last night as well. She was indeed bragging about being Lyra's replacement, saying that she would trump Vinyl's set from the night before. In fact, she had an argument about it with Slick Licks yesterday morning, so I believe that he chose her to be the replacement due to that argument."

"How does that disprove my claim?" said Star Maker. "She was obviously riled up by that quarrel, and that prompted her to kidnap Ms. Heartstrings."

"I'm not finished yet," I said, adjusting my bow-tie. "For you see, when I scolded Symphony for her insensitivity, she reacted strangely. Do you know why?"

"Because you caught her?"

"No, because she didn't even know that Lyra had been kidnapped."

Star Maker's jaw dropped. "Wh-what?! Th-that's impossible!"

"N-no, it's true," said Concerto. "We really didn't know what happened to Ms. Heartstrings at the time. We only knew that she was missing."

"And how do I know you're not just lying to cover for her?!" Star Maker boomed, causing Concerto to wince.

"Hey, don't talk to Concerto that way!" Symphony yelled, looking like she was about to punch Star Maker in the nose. "Only I can do that!"

"Symphony, calm down. I'll handle this," I said. "Now then, were you at the Bent Trumpet yesterday evening, Mr. Maker?"

"I was not," said Star Maker. "I don't usually stick around for well-known artists, for they're already stars. I'm only interested in untapped potential. Anyway, why do you ask?"

"Because if you were there, you would've seen Symphony jump right out of her skin when I said that Lyra was kidnapped," I said. "She actually couldn't believe it, and why would she? It's a bizarre circumstance that only happens in a film noir. But when faced with the truth, she left the cabaret shamed and embarrassed. Now, if Symphony was guilty, she would've had a different reaction, don't you think? And don't say she was faking; I think I would've been able to tell."

"B-but... I... She... GAH!"

Star Maker had no rebuttal for my counter-argument. Not that I expected him to; I managed to destroy his claims without even trying.

"So, now you see that Symphony could not possibly have kidnapped Lyra," I said. "Not only is she above such things, but she didn't even know about the kidnapping in the first place."

"H-hold on!" said Star Maker. "I-if she's not the kidnapper, then who is? That mad killer you think is running around? I can't ask somepony who doesn't exist to release Ms. Heartstrings!"

"I thought you said you were moving on and putting Lyra's contract on the back burner," said Vinyl. "Why are you so concerned about finding her now?"

"I-I made a mistake in saying that," said Star Maker, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Nopony else here has as much raw, untapped star power as Ms. Heartstrings. Sh-she deserves to be a star!"

"And finally, the light is shed," I said. "You were harassing Symphony because you somehow got it into your head that she kidnapped Lyra when she clearly didn't. You wanted to be the first to find her so that you could force her into your contract."

Star Maker sighed. "Well, you got me there. But that doesn't change the fact that you're crazy for believing in this conspiracy nonsense. The kidnapper has to be somepony here, not some maniac you conjured up."

"First of all, I don't know if the kidnapper and the assassin are one and the same," I said frankly. "Second, nopony here has a motive."

"Perhaps not yet," said Star Maker. "But, we need to look at the facts."

"Just so we're clear, we're looking at facts here and not more of your paranoid delusions, right?" said Vinyl.

Star Maker shot Vinyl a glare before turning back to me. "Anyway, here's what I mean..."

***
Argument: The Kidnapper Among Us
***

"From what I understand, Ms. Heartstrings was last seen in Performance Studio B, hiding from me," said Star Maker. "Now, in order to successfully abduct her, it is pertinent that one does not arouse suspicion. Furthermore, I am the only pony here that Ms. Heartstrings wouldn't trust. So therefore, the kidnapper is somepony Ms. Heartstrings, or in fact any of us, would not suspect. And trying to kill everypony here for playing music is very suspicious, so any killer would've been caught by now. Also, no one here has a motive to kill. Thus, there's no killer."

The first part of his argument I found myself agreeing with. Unlike before, it made logical sense; although I couldn't confirm or deny it without hearing from Lyra. However, the second part bugged me. For somepony claiming to see artistic potential and bring it out of anypony, Star Maker certainly lacks imagination.

"Let me just clarify something, Mr. Maker," I said. "You were not at the concert last night, correct?"

"Indeed," said Star Maker. "I was not interested in seeing ponies who have already made names for themselves."

"Well then, I wonder if you'd still make the claim that there is no killer had you been there," I said.

Star Maker raised an eyebrow. "You have my attention."

"Do you notice that Symphony has a scrape on her cheek?" I asked.

Symphony immediately tried to hide the bandage, but Star Maker was quick to catch it.

"Um, yes," he said. "What of it?"

"Do you know how she got that scratch?"

"No."

"Her violin string broke before she could play a single note, and it scratched her," I said. "And after that, just as she was about to recover, she was pushed out of the way as a sandbag fell from the rafters, threatening to injure her."

Symphony shuddered. It seems like she didn't want to be reminded of that.

"Well, that's a simple accident," said Star Maker with a shrug. "Somepony just dropped the ball, or rather, the sandbag. That's no reason to say that there's a killer."

"Maybe not," I said. "But there's one thing you should know. Symphony."

Symphony looked up. "Y-yes?"

"Do you have your violin?"

Symphony folded her ears back and scrunched her eyes shut. "P-please. I-I don't want..."

"I know it'll wound your ego, but this is important," I said firmly.

Symphony sighed and did as I requested. She obviously didn't have time to restring it. The broken wire was still plainly visible.

"Now then, Mr. Maker. Do you know why violin strings break?" I inquired.

Star Maker shrugged. "I always assumed it was from winding them too tight while tuning."

"Wrong," I said, pointing to the broken string. "That would only cause the string to slip out of frame and create a tangled mess. However, violin strings are more likely to break towards the bridge of the the instrument due to being worn down. Now, Symphony. Did anypony else handle your violin at any time before you went on?"

"N-no," said Symphony. "It was just me. I like to handle that sort of thing myself."

"And was the string in good condition when you went on?"

"Of course. I-I always treat my instrument with the utmost respect, Octavia. You know that."

"Indeed I do," I said with a smile. "Which means that the string breaking was not just a stroke of bad luck, nor was it negligence on Symphony's part. Somehow, and I don't know how, someone did something to cause that string to break!"

Star Maker recoiled and fumbled with his shades. "Th-that's preposterous! Y-you're just loony!"

"I know it sounds implausible, but there's no doubt in my mind that it's true," I said. "There's another bit of proof I have to this claim."

"There's more?!"

"Yes," I said. "Because I was sitting next to Pitch Perfect during the incident. Do you know Pitch Perfect, Mr. Maker?"

"O-of course I do," said Star Maker. "She's a harmonica player from Ponyville. I actually would've approached her if it wasn't for the fact that she plays alongside that boorish mare Ms. Fiddlesticks. What about her?"

"Well, her special talent is that she has a keen sense of hearing," I said. "It helps her keep perfect pitch, hence her name. Now, before Symphony's violin string snapped, she heard something off. She told me she couldn't put her hoof on it, and before she could elaborate, tragedy struck. Also, she heard something again just before the sandbag fell."

"Th-that's incredibly flimsy, Ms. Octavia," said Star Maker. "You think there's a killer just because somepony 'heard' something?"

"Well, not just that," I said. "Just this morning, Fiddlesticks showed me a note threatening her to stop listening. I'm not sure how someone was watching her, but whoever it was, they obviously knew she was onto them. And that threat could only come from the one who means to kill us."

Star Maker couldn't respond. He simply sputtered wildly, unable to form any sort of retort. Finally, he slumped his shoulders and sighed.

"It seems your madness has a method to it," he said. "However, extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. I can't believe any of this unless I see it for myself."

He then turned to Symphony. "That being said, I do apologize for harassing you, madam. It seems you were innocent after all."

Symphony grunted in response. Star Maker didn't seem to take offense.

"Now then, I must be off to seek out Ms. Heartstrings's true kidnapper," he said. "Excuse me."

With that, he marched off, muttering to himself all the while.

"Think we should've told him?" said Vinyl.

"He doesn't deserve to know," I said bluntly. "Lyra's been through enough. We should give her a break."

"Um, what are you talking about?" asked Concerto.

"Lyra's back," said Vinyl. "She's sitting outside with Bon-Bon. We don't know how or why, but we're grateful all the same."

Symphony heaved a great sigh. "I'm, glad to hear she's okay," she said. "All this talk about killers and kidnappers, well, it got me worried."

After a pause, she hid her face again. "S-stop looking at me. Especially you, Scratch! I know you want to gloat!"

"Symphony, even I wouldn't cross that line," said Vinyl sincerely. "I'm sorry about what happened to you. Octy and I are doing our best to find the bastard behind all this, so I'll give him one extra punch to the gut for you."

Symphony sniffled. "D-don't do me any favors," she said before running off. Concerto sighed.

"On behalf of Symphony, I want to thank you for your help," he said. "She's actually really grateful, but..."

"She's too proud to say it. I know," I said. "Let her know that if she needs somepony to talk to other than you, I'm available."

"I will," said Concerto with a bow. "Thank you again."

With that, he took off after his partner.

"Well, that was fun," said Vinyl. "What's next, Tavi?"

"Fiddlesticks said she'll be looking into what happened last night," I said. "In the meantime, we should probably talk to Pitch Perfect."

"To offer moral support, or ask her questions?" asked Vinyl.

I sighed. That was a good point. Fiddlesticks herself didn't know how Pitch would react to all this. It was possible that she was despondent or hysterical, and thus unable to answer any questions we may have.

"Hopefully the latter," I said as we walked over to the elevators. "But if it's the former, then there's not much we can do."

"Well, it may not be much, but at least we'll be doing something," said Vinyl. "That's what counts."

I gave Vinyl a weak smile. "I suppose I can't argue with that," I said. "Though I almost wonder how you're so optimistic at a time like this."

"Why, it's elementary, my dear Octy," said Vinyl with a wink. "Somepony has to be."

Alright, as ridiculous as that was, it did get a bit of a chuckle out of me. "Touché, Vinyl Scratch," I said just as the elevator arrived. "Touché."

Ear-witness Testimony

April 10, 10:47 AM
Lincolt Center
Convention Floor
***

Once again, the festival was just as lively as ever. It's just as Sapphire Shores said last night. The festival itself is running smoothly, but the main events are being ruined by the killer. I'm still not entirely sure why that is, but I figure part of it has to do with Slick Licks not bending to the whims of a mad terrorist. Yes, I do indeed think this qualifies as terrorism even though I don't know the killer's goals. Really, there's no other way to describe it at this point.

"Hey, Tavia."

The first pony we met on the convention floor was Fiddlesticks. Although she didn't look quite as scared anymore, she still appeared to be rather depressed. I don't think that's a good sign.

"Hey, Fiddle," said Vinyl. "Why the long face?"

Fiddlesticks sighed. "Ah, couldn't get into the theater to investigate," she said, lowering her hat over her eyes. "That Mike Check guy said it was off-limits. Ah tried to tell 'im 'bout everythin', but he said he couldn't let just anyone in there."

"Oh, right. Bugger," I sighed. "I, should've told you about that, Fiddle. Mike Check is running a tight operation in there. Heck, I only got access because of Vinyl. Sorry, it just slipped my mind."

"It ain't yer fault," said Fiddlesticks. "'Sides, it gives me more time to practice."

"Speaking of which, how's Pitch Perfect?" I asked.

"Uneasy," said Fiddlesticks glumly. "She's kinda trapped in a no-win situation here. Her special talent ain't sumthin' she can jus' turn off, know what Ah mean?"

Well, that's a bit of a double-edged sword. On the one hoof, it means that Pitch won't be caught off-guard if the killer strikes during the performance. On the other hoof, well, it just paints a bigger bull's eye on her back. As such, I'm not sure if this works in our favor or not.

"So, what about you two?" inquired Fiddlesticks. "Find anythin' interestin'?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," said Vinyl. "Let's get the big one out of the way first. Lyra's back."

Fiddlesticks jumped. "Wh-what?!"

"Our reactions exactly," I said. "We don't know how or why, but she's outside right now with Bon-Bon. Pan apparently had something to do with it, but that's about all we know."

Fiddlesticks paused for a moment to let this sink in. "Well, that's a pleasant surprise," she said. "Did she mention anythin' 'bout how she went missin'?"

"Yeah, I don't think she's in the mood for talking right now," said Vinyl, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. "She did promise she'd explain everything, so take that as you will."

"Right," said Fiddlesticks. "What about Symphony? Did ya get a chance to talk to her?"

"Yes," I said.

"What did she say about her violin?"

"Nopony else touched it besides her."

Fiddlesticks sighed. "Figures. That rules out somepony tampering with it before she went on. Now Ah have no idea how that string broke."

"There is one way to find out," I said. "But I'll need to talk to Pitch."

Fiddlesticks's brow furrowed. "That ain't gonna be easy, Tavia. Kazooie's not lettin' her talk to anypony except for those he trusts."

"And, he doesn't trust me."

"Well, that's jus' the thing. Ah don't know if he does or not," said Fiddlesticks. "He knows you're mah sister, but as you saw, city folk rub him the wrong way. Ah asked him about it, but he didn't exactly give me a clear response. He's so hard to read sometimes."

Just like Frederick. No wonder Fiddlesticks said the two of them would get along swimmingly. I sighed.

"Well, we don't have many other options at this point," I said with a shrug. "I'll just have to take a gamble."

"Tavi, I think this whole investigation has been a gamble," said Vinyl.

"Ugh, don't remind me," I groaned, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my hoof. "Anyway, the least we can do is try."

"Fair 'nuff," said Fiddlesticks with a shrug. "Although Vinyl might wanna stay outta this one."

"Yeah, I gotcha," said Vinyl with a nod. "I'll go give Slick the good news about Lyra. Seeya later, Tavi."

She gave me a wave and walked off. It's nice to see that she understands the gravity of the situation. If things were different, she'd probably tag along just to get some cheap laughs out of the whole exchange. We really couldn't afford that.

"Kazooie an' Pitch are over at the performance studios," said Fiddlesticks. "C'mon, this way."

With that, she dashed off, and I followed quickly at her heels.

***
April 10, 10:55 AM
Lincolt Center
Performance Studio B
***

"I told ya, this studio's occupi— oh, it's you."

It was just as Fiddlesticks described. Kazooie had a very stern look on his face, as if he were a Royal Guard looking over the castle grounds for any sign of trouble. Pitch Perfect's face was clouded with worry, but she was otherwise handling herself alright, I suppose. She's certainly doing a better job than I did when I first became privy to this whole ordeal.

"Hey, Kazooie," said Fiddlesticks. "Listen, Tavia wants to ask Pitch a few questions about last night."

Kazooie knitted his brow. "I don't think she wants to talk about that."

"I realize it'll be difficult for her," I said. "But, it's important. I'm trying to figure out who's behind all this so that I can stop them."

Kazooie snorted. "I admire your guts, Ms. Octavia, but do ya really think you can pull it off?"

"I have to try," I said. That was really the best answer I could've given, considering my situation.

Kazooie smirked. "Alright, but don't push her too hard."

"I understand," I said, walking over to Pitch. When she didn't acknowledge me, I cleared my throat. She looked up, and then cast her eyes downward again.

"It's tough, bein' told not to do what you were born to do," she muttered. "It's like bein' told not to breathe."

"Believe me, I truly sympathize," I said. "That's why I need your help."

Pitch sighed. "I'll do what I can, but it ain't much. I'm gonna be attacked anyway, so there's no point in tryin' to get on this bastard's good side."

How exactly does a musician go about getting on the good side of a madman trying to destroy music? Well, whatever the case, it seems Pitch knows that the death threat is real now. That was going to make things a least a bit easier.

"Well, I just want to know this," I said. "Last night, at Symphony's concert, you said you heard something right before the violin string broke. Then, I saw your ears twitch again right before the sandbag dropped."

"Yep, that's basically the whole thing in a nutshell," said Pitch. "What do ya wanna know about that?"

"What exactly were those sounds?"

Pitch closed her eyes and rubbed her chin with her hoof. "Hmm. Well, lessee here... It was, kinda like a tuning fork, but it wasn't."

I blinked. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."

"Truth be told, neither do I," said Pitch with a shrug. "It's kinda hard to describe. I mean, it sounded like somethin' that would come outta a tuning fork, but there was somethin', wrong. I dunno if it was a semitone higher or lower or what; it was jus' wrong."

"Well, what about when the sandbag dropped?"

"It was the same sound."

"Do you think you'd know it if you heard it again?"

"Without a doubt."

"So, all we gotta do is find whatever made that sound," mused Fiddlesticks.

I think we have a better chance finding a needle in a haystack. Pitch's clues were very vague. I can't even begin to picture what could've made that wonky tuning fork sound she heard. Well, besides a wonky tuning fork, but I don't think that has the ability to break violin strings or suspension cords. Ugh, I wonder how real detectives get through their cases without getting frustrated.

"That's about all I can tell ya, Ms. Octavia," said Pitch, flattening her ears. "Sorry if I wasn't of much help."

"N-no, it's fine," I said. "The important thing is that we're not going to rest until this maniac is brought to justice."

Kazooie chuckled. "Y'know what, Ms. Octavia? You're alright. I wish more city folk were like you an' that Frederick fellow. Neither of ya give up."

"Th-thank you, Mr. Kazooie," I said, blushing a little. "Well, I'll just leave you to your..."

"Come back here, ya shtupid shadow! Come here and get what'sh coming to ya!"

Oh, no. No, it can't be. Has it really gotten to that point?

"What's all the ruckus about?" Fiddlesticks pondered aloud as she opened the door. When she did so, a shadow darted past her, followed by none other than Silenus. Before anypony could respond to this, Pan ran in and nearly blindsided Fiddlesticks.

"Whoops! Sorry aaabout thaaat," said Pan breathlessly. "H-haaave any of you seen Silenus? Thaaat blaaasted donkey's gone craaazy."

"Uh, he went thataway," said Fiddlesticks, pointing Pan in the right direction.

"Great, thaaanks," said Pan with a bow. He then raised his panpipes to his lips and played a short tune. When the tune was completed, he took off, running faster than the wind itself.

"Wh-whoa nelly!" exclaimed Fiddlesticks. "D-did ya see that, Tavia?!"

I did. And I was able to make a connection to what Sapphire Shores talked about last night. Well, it appears Pan's Music Code is real after all. So, yeah. That's a thing.

"I ain't no detective, but I reckon you two should check this out," said Kazooie. "Maybe that drunkard has caught the killer."

Except that I know that's not the case. Silenus was suspicious of Mare-Do-Well; the pony who was protecting us. Of course, he had no way of knowing that, but still, there's no telling what will happen if he somehow does manage to catch her.

"I do believe you're right," I said. "Come along, Fiddlesticks. We should find out what this is all about."

"Um, alright," said Fiddlesticks with a shrug. "Ah jus' hope this doesn't end up being a waste of time."

"You and me both, Fiddle," I said as we took off. "You and me both."

***
April 10, 11:23 AM
Lincolt Center
Performance Studio D
***

The chase was long and rather arduous. Silenus was chasing Mare-Do-Well all over the bloody building! And no matter how fast Fiddlesticks and I ran, we were always ten steps behind. Then again, I'm not really the most athletic pony in the world, so that doesn't really come as a surprise to me. What does come as a surprise is that Silenus is somehow running faster than us while intoxicated. I'm not an expert on alcoholic spirits and libations, but I'm pretty sure they have an opposite effect on the body.

After a while, we finally caught up with Silenus and Mare-Do-Well in Performance Studio D. Silenus appeared to have Mare-Do-Well cornered.

"Thish ish the end of the line for you!" slurred Silenus. "Now I'm gonna getcha for, uh, doing all thoshe thingsh! L-like the attack yeshterday! And kidnapping that shweet lyrisht! And shpying on ush!"

"You're only one for three, and that last one isn't intentional," said Mare-Do-Well firmly. "I'm not your enemy here."

"Oh yeah?! W-well, I shaw you deshtroying evidence!"

"I was collecting evidence."

"Liar!"

With that, Silenus reared up on his hind legs and adopted some sort of bizarre fighting stance. Mare-Do-Well sighed.

"You, really don't want to do this," she said.

"I think I do," Silenus retorted.

Mare-Do-Well shrugged. "Very well, have it your way."

Her motions a blur, she dashed forward and threw a punch at Silenus. Silenus swerved out of the way and countered with a punch of his own. The two then proceeded to exchange blows, going back and forth. Part of me wanted to try and break it up, but I wasn't sure what Silenus would do if I intervened. It was actually much like a train wreck: I couldn't stare, but I just couldn't look away, either.

Suddenly, one of Silenus's blows caused Mare-Do-Well to drop something out of her cape. It landed on the ground with a loud clang. That clang was in turn followed by an odd sound. I'm not exactly sure how to describe it. It's similar to a tuning fork, but there's something, off about it. I can't quite put my hoof on it, but...

Wait a tick. Th-that's how Pitch Perfect described the sound she heard last night! So that means...

"Ha! Now I gotcha! Let'sh shee how tough you are without your fanchy toysh!"

My epiphany was interrupted by Silenus, who was towering over the object Mare-Do-Well dropped and daring her to try and pick it up. Mare-Do-Well tilted her head.

"You really believe that's mine?" she inquired.

"Don't play gamesh with me, shadow! I-I know your tricksh!" barked Silenus. "And I'm gonna p-put a shtop to thish madnessh!"

"Right," said Mare-Do-Well, seemingly unimpressed. "Well, if you're quite done, I'd like to leave now. Keep that thing if you wish; I'll probably just come around and pick it up later."

"Oh, no you don't!" proclaimed Silenus. "The only way out of thish room ish through me!"

Mare-Do-Well sighed and shook her head. "You know, I was trying not to hurt you, and I still don't wish to. But if you want to do this the hard way, I shall oblige."

With that, she tossed up her cape, revealing a pair of wings. She then shot into the air and flew by Silenus, elbowing him in the back of the head as she passed. While he was off-kilter, she soared over my head and flew away. Just as she did so, Pan arrived.

"Silenus, whaaat the heck are you doing?" he scolded. "I haaad to chase you all around the building!"

"Wh-where'd it go?" Silenus said in a dazed tone. "Wh-where'd the shadow go? I-I had it cornered."

Pan sighed. "Really, Silenus. That shaaadow is just one of your drunken hallucinations."

"N-no, it'sh real!" Silenus insisted. "Thoshe two, they shaw it!"

He pointed at me and Fiddlesticks as he said that, putting us both on the spot. Before we could say anything, Pan interrupted.

"Silenus, don't go roping other ponies into your delusions. You know beeetter than thaaat," he admonished. "Now come along and let's get you sooober. And not another word about that blaaasted shaaadow!"

Dejected, Silenus hung his head and followed Pan out of the room.

"Well, that happened," said Fiddlesticks. "Was that the Mare-Do-Well gal y'all were talkin' about?"

"Yes," I said. "And despite what Silenus says, she's not here to hurt us."

"Mmm," said Fiddlesticks. "What's that thing she dropped?"

That was a good question. I walked over to the object and observed it carefully. It appeared to be a large tuning fork about as long as my cello bow. Was this the weapon used to attack Symphony last night? How did it even work?

"Think we should show this to somepony?" asked Fiddlesticks.

"I believe that would be a correct course of action," I said, cautiously picking up the odd implement and placing it in my cello case. "And I think I know just who to go to."

"Really? Who's that?"

"Follow me."

With that, we headed over to the theater. We would've gone faster had Silenus not tired us out with all that running. That was nothing short of insane, and considering everything else going on, that's saying something. Although if Pan was using his magic to move faster, how did Silenus give him the slip?

Eh, no use thinking about that now. I'll probably ask Pan later. Right now, I need to figure out exactly what happened last night. I'm not sure how it'll fit together with everything else, but then again, I don't exactly have all the pieces of the puzzle yet. I just hope I get this all sorted out before it's too late...

Confrontation: Mike Check

April 10, 11:30 AM
Lincolt Center
The Whinnyton Maresalis Theater
***

"Ma'am, I must ask you to leave."

"Not until you give me a damn good explanation of what happened last night!"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out!"

"M-maybe we shouldn't be doing this..."

"Shut up, Concerto!"

When we got to the theater, I suppressed the urge to groan. Once again, I was walking in on an argument. This time around, it was between Symphony and Mike Check. This was not going to be pleasant.

"Um, excuse me..." I said, making my way into the conversation.

Symphony turned to me, and quickly hid her face. "Y-you again?! Is there something about me being shamed and humiliated that you get off on, Octavia?!"

"Sumthin' tells me Ah don't wanna know," said Fiddlesticks.

"Right," I said, clearing my throat. "I'm actually here to see Mr. Check about something."

"Yeah, well, you caught me at a bad time, Melody," said Mike. "This pony here thinks that I have something to do with what happened last night."

"It's your job to make sure things like that don't happen!" Symphony screamed. "Intentional or no, it's your fault!"

"You think I'm happy about this?" Mike snarled. "I've been busting my flank trying to make sure everything runs smoothly!"

"Well, you're not doing a very good job," Symphony spat.

"Ponies, please," I said. "Let's take a moment to calm down before things get out of hoof."

"I-I'd listen to her," said Concerto meekly.

Symphony snorted, but said nothing else.

"Good," I said. "Now then, Mr. Check. I'm sorry to say this, but my colleague has a point. The main events at this year's festival thus far have been nothing short of disastrous. Either this is due to incompetence on your part, or you are the mastermind behind everything that has transpired."

"Well, news flash, Melody: Both of those are wrong," said Mike firmly. "I'm one of the best roadies in Equestria, and I've got nothing against anypony here."

"If that's true, perhaps you can share with us what you've managed to discover about last night's incident," I said. "If you're not guilty, then you should have nothing to hide."

Mike narrowed his eyes. "Y'know, this is usually the part where I say it's none of your business, but your nosiness has been a great boon to the investigation. So, I'll play ball with ya. But I'm warning you right now, Melody: No funny stuff. I don't want to hear anything irrelevant outta you, got it?"

"I wouldn't even dream of it, Mr. Check," I said.

"Are ya sure he's hidin' sumthin'?" Fiddlesticks whispered to me.

"I don't know," I confessed. "But considering that it's his job to make sure things run smoothly, there has to be some explanation as to why that hasn't been the case."

"It's more complicated than you think, Melody," said Mike, tapping his headset.

***
Testimony: Mike's Take Part I
***

"I honestly have no idea what's going on here," said Mike. "Right now, I'm trying to dissect the transmitter found in Scratch's equipment yesterday, and trust me, that's easier said than done. But I'm actually more confused about last night's incident. I double and triple checked everything on and around the stage. Everything was copacetic, from the catwalk to the trapdoors. What happened last night should not have happened on my watch."

And yet it did. I hate to say it, but Mike isn't making a good case for himself by just throwing up his hooves and saying he doesn't know. That wasn't going to fly with Symphony, and it certainly wasn't going to fly with me.

"There's a blatant contradiction in your testimony, Mr. Check," I said.

"Yeah, I'm well aware," said Mike with a snort. "But it's the honest truth. Nothing was wrong when I checked the stage."

"Oh yeah? What about the sandbag?" said Symphony, folding her forelegs. "I was almost killed by that thing!"

"I swear, that rope was strong and secure when I checked it," said Mike. "Something must've happened to it when I wasn't looking."

"Well, gee. That's convenient," said Symphony, rolling her eyes. "Where exactly were you during my performance, hmm?"

"Below the stage, checking the trapdoors," said Mike. "During a performance, the roadies work best in the shadows."

"And what of the rest of your crew?" I inquired. "Did they witness anything?"

Mike sighed. "They all said they got distracted by that violin string breaking. Nopony knows what happened to the sandbag."

Wait, the violin string. That was important.

"Symphony, remind me again," I said. "Did anypony handle your violin before you went on?"

"W-well, no," said Symphony.

"Then I can hardly say that Mr. Check is to blame for that."

Symphony's eyes went wide. "Wh-what?! Why are you taking his side all of a sudden?!"

"I'm not," I said. "The violin string was not Mr. Check's doing, but the sandbag could've been."

"H-hey! It wasn't!" exclaimed Mike. "I told you before, I've got nothing against you guys! Besides, Slick would fire me if he found out I was responsible for the sabotage!"

"Sabotage, you say?" I said, adjusting my bow-tie. "So, last night wasn't an accident in your opinion."

"Yeah, I think it was sabotage," said Mike with a shrug. "What's it to ya?"

"You told me before that you weren't sure whether or not the death threats were real," I said. "It seems that now, you believe that they are."

Sweat trickled down Mike's face. "W-well, sure. I believe it now that there's evidence for it."

"The transmitter wasn't evidence enough?"

"Um, I... I... Ay yi yi!"

Mike didn't have a retort for that. Symphony saw this as an opportunity to strike.

"It seems you have something to hide, roadie," she said menacingly. "Just admit it! You're the one who sent me that death threat and tried to kill me!"

"I-isn't it a bit early to be thinking that?!" Mike yelled. "I-I'm not perfect, y'know! Maybe the transmitter was just a misplaced piece of equipment!"

"That's, quite doubtful," I said. "However, I don't think you're the mastermind, either."

"Octavia, will you stop taking his side?!" Symphony shrieked.

"There's something that prevents him from being a suspect," I said. "Yesterday, when the transmitter was found, he activated it by accident. He wouldn't have done so if he was the killer, because the killer should know how the device works."

"M-maybe he was trying to eliminate any witnesses! Ever consider that?!" said Symphony. "His ears would've been protected by his headset while the rest of you were rendered deaf!"

"And yet, I'm still here," I said plainly. "So is Vinyl and the rest of Mr. Check's crew. If he was so keen on getting rid of us, he would've manipulated the device in a way that would permit him to do so."

"I don't believe that for a second!" Symphony exclaimed.

"Of course you don't," I said bluntly. "Because you don't like to be wrong."

Symphony couldn't respond to that. She sputtered incoherently before letting out a frustrated groan.

"W-well, he's still not off the hook!" she snapped as soon as she recovered. "Something happened last night, and he should've prevented it!"

"I would've if I could've," sighed Mike. "But like I said, I don't know what happened."

"Well, y'all gotta know sumthin'," said Fiddlesticks. "Ya said that there was evidence to support the whole death threat theory that wasn't the transmitter Tavia mentioned. Mind elaboratin'?"

"Not at all," said Mike, regaining his composure. "Just, promise to keep it on the down-low, alright?"

"Mum's the word," I said solemnly.

"Mah lips are sealed," said Fiddlesticks.

"I'll, think about it," said Symphony.

"Um, Symphony? I don't think it's in our best interest to be difficult," said Concerto.

"Shut up, Concerto," Symphony growled.

Well, I can say this much about Concerto; at least he's persistent. A lesser pony would've given up on reasoning with Symphony long ago.

"I guess that's the best answer I can get out of her," said Mike, glancing at Symphony before clearing his throat. "Anyway, here's what I know..."

***
Testimony: Mike's Take Part II
***

"The transmitter isn't enough to go on because I don't know how the damn thing works," said Mike. "However, there's something from last night pointing to sabotage. While investigating the catwalk, I discovered that the rope holding the sandbag had been cut. It was a pretty clean cut, too; no loose strands or anything. I don't know what did it, but that has sabotage written all over it."

The first part was, rather flimsy. Just because he's not sure how the transmitter works doesn't mean it's not a vital piece of evidence. However, the rest of his testimony was what got my attention. I had to get some more information.

"Now, you said before that you were underneath the stage when the accident happened, correct?" I inquired.

"Yep," said Mike. "I also had my crew checking the catwalk, but they were all distracted by what happened to Symphony, so none of them saw the rope being cut."

"And, you trust them?"

Mike smirked. "Believe me, Melody. If I found out one of my boys was trying to pull a fast one on me, I'd make 'em sorry long before the cops showed up. They know better than to go against my word."

"Unless you ordered them to cut the rope and kill me," Symphony spat.

"We already established that ain't possible," said Fiddlesticks. "C'mon, try an' keep up."

Symphony scowled. "Why you impudent—!"

"Fiddlesticks is right, Symphony. Let it go," I said firmly.

Symphony reluctantly complied, muttering under her breath as she did so.

"Anyway, do you have any idea what could've made a cut like that, Mr. Check?" I asked.

"The only things that come to mind are magic and a buzzsaw," said Mike, furrowing his brow. "Both of those would've made too much noise, and no one heard anything until the rope was actually cut."

That wasn't strictly true. Pitch Perfect heard something, thanks to her special talent. And I think I know what she heard.

"Mr. Check, I'd like you to look at something," I said, reaching into my cello case and pulling out the tuning fork.

Mike raised an eyebrow. "What the hay is that?"

"I was wondering if you knew," I said with a shrug. "I found this while investigating the performance studios."

Mike grasped the odd implement with his magic and looked it over.

"Sorry, Melody. I've got no idea what this thing is," he said. He then tapped it on the ground, causing it to make that off-tuning fork noise. As it vibrated, a barely-visible wave of sound launched from the tip and buzzed Fiddlesticks.

"Hey, watch it!" she barked. "Ah ain't yer guinea— Whoa nelly!"

I turned to see what had Fiddlesticks so excited, and I gasped. A clump of hair from her tail had been seared off. It didn't take me long to make the connection.

"I, do believe we found the weapon used last night," I said, slowly recovering from the shock. "The killer used this twice: Once to cause Symphony's violin string to snap, and another time to release the sandbag."

"B-but it still doesn't explain who's behind this!" cried Symphony. "This roadie could still be the culprit!"

"One, he has an alibi," I said. "He was beneath the stage, so it would be impossible for him to aim that thing. Secondly, if he was the killer, he wouldn't have missed."

"If ya call that missin'," said Fiddlesticks, brushing her tail. "That was still a pretty close shave, pardon the pun."

"It wasn't intentional, ma'am. I assure you," said Mike. "If it was, I would be threatening you all right now with this thing. As it stands, I don't even know what it is. I'll look into this and let Slick know about this right away."

He then gave me a smirk. "It seems that you've been quite helpful once again, Melody. Tell me, are you always this nosy?"

"This is a special circumstance, Mr. Check," I said. "I have my reasons."

"Right," said Mike. "Well, seeya 'round, I guess. I'll keep ya posted."

With that, he walked off. Symphony pursed her lips and shot me a glare.

"Was last night not enough for you, Octavia? Did you have to humiliate me more?" she huffed.

"You would've been more humiliated if your deductions turned out to be wrong, Symphony," I said. "I just did you a favor."

Symphony mulled it over for a moment before conceding begrudgingly. "Okay, I'll give you that," she grumbled. "Th-thank you."

"Anytime," I said with a smile.

Symphony sighed and walked away, muttering to herself all the while.

"She's been in a poor mood ever since last night," said Concerto. "I don't think she'll snap out of it until this is all resolved. Please forgive her."

"Of course," I said. "Trust me, Concerto. I know Symphony well enough to understand that she's not used to having her pride wounded so deeply."

Concerto bowed and took off after his partner.

"Well, Ah'd love to stick around and help out more, but Ah've gotta practice fer tonight," said Fiddlesticks with a chuckle. "Even if it is a lost cause."

"That's probably for the best," I said. "We can't let this madman win. As for me, I'm getting a bit peckish. I'll be heading over to the Bent Trumpet to get something to eat. I'll let you know if anything comes up."

"Likewise," said Fiddlesticks with a tip of her hat. "Take care of yerself, Tavia."

As we went our separate ways, I began to wonder where this was all going. Unlike yesterday, I was getting at least a few concrete answers. However, the questions were still building up one after the other. After all, there was still no culprit.

And then there was the matter with Lyra and Pan. If the killer and the kidnapper are not the same person, then what was Lyra's kidnapping all about, and how did Pan rescue her? They had to be connected in some way, I'm sure. Lyra vaguely mentioned it in that ransom note. I also wonder if that drunkard Silenus knows more than he lets on. So while I'm making progress today, the answers are still not within reach. I have to wonder if I am going to figure this out before Fiddlesticks and her band perform tonight. Maybe I should investigate a bit...

...

Okay, this isn't working. I can't think on an empty stomach, and I recently chased a drunken donkey all over the whole bloody building. I think I need a break. Just a short one, though.

Luncheon with Lyra

April 10, 11:54 AM
Lincolt Center
The Bent Trumpet
***

"Hey, Octy! You're just in time!"

When I entered the Bent Trumpet, the first thing I noticed was Vinyl waving at me. She was sitting with Lyra and Bon-Bon. I sighed inwardly. No rest for the weary, I suppose. Then again, Lyra's testimony was crucial to unraveling all of these mysteries. I walked over to Vinyl.

"Just in time for what?" I asked rhetorically.

"I was just about to start grilling Lyra on what happened to her yesterday," said Vinyl.

Did she have to phrase it that way? Wait, what am I talking about? Of course she did. How else was she going to annoy me? I suppressed a groan.

"You okay, Octavia?" asked Lyra, tilting her head.

"F-fine," I said with a sigh. "Actually, I wouldn't mind hearing this story myself. You don't mind if I join you for lunch, do you?"

"Nah, not at all," said Lyra with a grin. "There's, not a whole lot to tell, though."

"That's alright," I said, taking a seat. "Do you want me to call for the waiter?"

"I got this," said Vinyl. "Yo, Garçon! Over here!"

There was probably a more polite way to say that. Well, at least she pronounced garçon correctly. Resisting the urge to scold her (it wouldn't have done any good, anyway), I turned to Lyra.

"So, what did happen to you yesterday?" I asked. "You really had us all worried."

"Yeah, I know," said Lyra, brushing the back of her mane. "I'm really sorry about that."

"You don't need to apologize, Lyra," said Bon-Bon affectionately. "It wasn't your fault. It was that bastard who kidnapped you."

"I, actually wouldn't be so quick to call him that," said Lyra.

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, let me start from the beginning," said Lyra. "I was just sitting in the performance studio hiding from that dock-hole Star Maker and practicing for my big show. Then, all of a sudden, I hear this sound."

"A sound?" I parroted. "Like from outside?"

"I don't know," said Lyra thoughtfully. "All I remember is that it was really pleasant. And after hearing it, I blacked out. Next thing I knew, I was in this pitch black room, somewhere."

Typical. It's not likely that a pony who is kidnapped would know where they end up. "What happened then?"

"Well, then some guy started talking to me," said Lyra. "Don't ask me who it was; they were hidden in the shadows the entire time."

"What did they say?"

Lyra heaved a great sigh. "Alright, this is where things get kinda scary. Do you ponies think you can handle it?"

"I-I'm ready," said Bon-Bon with a swallow.

"Don't worry 'bout me, Lyra," said Vinyl as she finished talking to the waiter.

"Just get on with it, Lyra," I said, bracing myself for the inevitable.

Lyra sighed again. "Okay then, here goes nothing. Bons, you remember that letter I got when we checked into the hotel?"

"You mean the prank about someone killing you if you play music ever again?" said Bon-Bon.

"That's the one."

"What about it?"

"It's not a prank, Bons. It's real."

Bon-Bon gasped. "S-so, Ms. Octavia's theory is true then?"

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "Octavia's theory? What are you talking about?"

"Looks like the cat's outta the bag, Tavi," said Vinyl with a shrug.

Ugh, the least she could do is act like this bothered her. Oh well, I might as well get this out of the way. "Lyra, you're not the only one who got that letter."

Lyra's eyes went wide. "You knew, too?"

"It was a guess at first, but what happened to Symphony last night clinched it," I said. "She was substituting for you during your disappearance, and she was attacked before she could even play a single note."

"Ever since the incident at my performance, Octy has been trying to figure this out," added Vinyl.

Lyra was surprised for a moment, but then gave me a sly smirk. "Wow, Octavia. I didn't know you had it in you."

"I'm sure you'd do the same in my horseshoes, Lyra," I said. "Music is important to all of us here, and I'll be buggered if I let some madman take it away."

"Well said," said Lyra with a nod. Just then, our food arrived. "Thanks."

"So, did the kidnapper say anything else to you?" asked Bon-Bon. "Like, why did he do it?"

"Apparently to protect me," said Lyra with a shrug. "I guess he didn't want whatever happened to Symphony to happen to me."

Meaning the kidnapper and the killer were not the same person. That was important to know.

"And the kidnapper never told you his identity?" I asked.

"Nope," said Lyra. "But he did check in on me every now and then to see if I was hungry or if I needed anything. He even let me practice on my lyre."

"In the dark?"

"Well, I had my horn providing some light," said Lyra.

"And you didn't use it to see the kidnapper or figure out where you were?" asked Vinyl.

Lyra blushed. "H-hey, I was scared, okay? Cut me some slack, Vinyl. Sheesh."

"But you could've cast some sort of illumination spell once the kidnapper told you his true intentions," I said. "He clearly meant you no harm."

"Yeah, well. I couldn't really be sure of that at the time," said Lyra.

"I suppose you're right," I said. "So, what happened then?"

"Well, eventually, I got tired and fell asleep," said Lyra. "When I woke up, I was sitting on that bench where you found me this morning. That's when I realized the guy wasn't trying to hurt me."

"I-I'm gonna be honest, Lyra. I-I don't know what to say to that," said Bon-Bon, munching on her hay fries. "Why did this guy feel the need to abduct you? Why couldn't he just be direct?"

"Maybe he thought he'd sound crazy," said Vinyl, chuckling a bit. "'Hey, Lyra. Listen, I know this sounds silly, but someone's out to kill you. Do you mind if I protect you? 'Kay, thanks!'"

Although she said it in an infantile way, Vinyl did have a point. This whole mess is very surreal, and there's no way any rational pony would believe it without proof.

"So, that's why you left that ransom note," I said.

Lyra blinked. "Um, what ransom note?"

"Uh, duh! The note left in the performance studio," said Vinyl.

Lyra blinked again. "Uh, yeah. I, don't remember writing a ransom note."

"Then, what was that note all about?" inquired Bon-Bon, echoing my thoughts exactly. "It said if we wanted to see you again, we had to give into the demands."

"And there was a postscript telling us to do the opposite of that and not to worry about you," I chimed in.

Lyra shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry, guys. I don't know what to tell you. None of this is really ringing any bells."

"What about Pan?" asked Bon-Bon. "He gave me a note this morning saying that there would be a surprise for me at Coltlumbus Circle, and that surprise was you."

"Well, if Pan did rescue me, he was pretty damn quiet about it," Lyra chuckled. "Like I said, I fell asleep in that room and woke up where you guys found me."

Curiouser and curiouser. Perhaps I should ask Pan about that later. In the meantime, how was I going to fill the rest of the blanks in Lyra's story? She clearly wasn't hiding anything from us, so there was no way of knowing who her kidnapper was or where she was taken. All we know is that someone wanted to protect her from the killer.

Could it have been Mare-Do-Well's doing? After all, she made it clear to me that she's here to protect us, and she knows that the death threats are real. No, that can't be right. If it was, Pan would know about her, considering that he apparently rescued Lyra. But from what I understand, the only ones who know about Mare-Do-Well are Vinyl, Fiddlesticks, Silenus, and myself. And Pan doesn't believe Silenus. So, is someone else looking after us?

"Oh, I almost forgot something."

My musings were interrupted by Lyra, who was brandishing a piece of paper.

"I woke up with this lying in front of me," she said. "I don't know what it means or who gave it to me."

"May I see it?" I asked.

"Sure, knock yourself out," said Lyra, passing it over.

I unfolded the paper, and, well, it was odd. Very, very odd. It appeared to be some kind of blueprint. Of course, all of the diagrams and schematics were gibberish to me. The best I could figure was that it looked like a large subwoofer on wheels. But what really caught my attention was the title of the document.

"'The Bass Cannon?'" I read aloud. "This sounds like something Vinyl would put together for one of her inane rock operas."

"What?! Here, let me see that!" said Vinyl, her face lighting up like a child in a sweets shop. "Yoink!"

Before I could say anything, Vinyl gripped the paper with her magic and read it over. Her eyes sparkled.

"Who-ho-hoa~! This baby packs a punch!" she said. She then paused for a moment and cringed. "Yeesh. Maybe too much of a punch."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, unless I'm planning on fighting Discord, this thing's way too powerful," said Vinyl. "My rock opera ideas are pretty wild, but I don't think I'd want anypony to get killed in 'em."

Now, that is quite strange. Who left Lyra with this blueprint, and what did it have to do with this mystery? I mean, it had to have some relevance, but for the life of me, I can't even begin to form a connection. What's more, I don't know who I would go to with this information. My best guess would be Mike Check, but how exactly would he know where this came from?

"Maybe we should just hold onto it for now," I said.

"For now nothing, Tavi. I'm keeping this," said Vinyl with a wide grin. "This could be a fun pet project for me."

"Vinyl, none of your rock opera ideas get off the ground. What would we do with a, Bass Cannon?" I asked.

Vinyl shrugged. "Hey, you never know. It might come in handy someday."

I, give up. There's obviously no way I'm going to talk Vinyl out of this. "Fine, whatever. But that can wait for when we get home. Right now, we have more pressing concerns."

"Yeah, okay," said Vinyl, putting the blueprint away. "So, what's next on the agenda, Octy?"

"Next, we have lunch," I said. "I can't think on an empty stomach."

"Alright, good thinking," said Vinyl. "So, Lyra. What song are you gonna play for your performance?"

Lyra giggled. "Oh come on, Vinyl. I'm not going to reveal any spoilers that easily."

The rest of our meal was taken up by small talk and witty banter. Beneath the jovial atmosphere, however, I still felt pangs of worry eating at me. Lyra was alright, sure, but her story was still missing some vital pieces. I figure I could ask Pan, but he doesn't seem to know about the murder plot.

Then again, Silenus does. Or at least he appears to. That and he's accusing Mare-Do-Well of everything. If he's investigating just like I am, maybe it would be best if we were on the same page.

...

It just hit me. I'm planning to exchange notes with a drunken donkey. What's more, I've somehow convinced myself that this is a logical course of action. I'm lucky that living with Vinyl has desensitized me to this sort of absurdity; otherwise I'd be stark-raving mad by now. But even so, I have a bad feeling about this...

Author's Note

((OOC: For those who caught the reference in this chapter (it should be pretty obvious), let it be known that I regret nothing. :rainbowwild: ))

Confrontation: Silenus

April 10, 1:01 PM
Lincolt Center
Convention Floor
***

"So, what's our next move, Octy?" Vinyl asked after we had finished our lunch.

I sighed. "I don't think I should tell you, Vinyl. You'll laugh at me."

Vinyl raised an eyebrow. "Well, now I'm even more curious."

"Of course you are," I said, rolling my eyes. "Listen, do you know Silenus by any chance?"

"You mean that drunken donkey that's been giving security a hard time?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"What about him?"

"I, think he might know something," I said, dipping my voice. "Just earlier today, I saw him chasing Mare-Do-Well all over the place, claiming that she was behind everything."

Vinyl blinked. "Is it just me, or does this mystery keep getting weirder?"

"It's not you, trust me," I said. "Anyway, if he is hiding something, I need to know what that something is."

"I see," Vinyl said with a contemplative nod. "Well, it's your call, Tavi. Good detectives don't dismiss any leads, after all."

Oh, thank Celestia; she's taking me seriously. Kind of. Whatever, it's good enough.

"So, how should we go about looking for this Silenus guy?" asked Vinyl.

"Hey, you there."

A gruff voice called out to us from behind. I turned around and there was Point Dexter, leading Silenus by the collar. Well, that answers that.

"Is there something you want, Mr. Dexter?" I inquired.

"Have you seen Pan anywhere?" said Point Dexter. "This drunkard got himself lost again and he's driving me out of my mind."

"I keep tellin' ya! That shadow'sh up to no good!" Silenus protested.

It seems he's still on about Mare-Do-Well being the villain in all this. This was a great opportunity to have a bit of a tete-a-tete with him and set him straight. I cleared my throat.

"I'm afraid I haven't seen him since this morning," said I. "However, I'll happily take Mr. Silenus off your hands and look after him."

Point Dexter knitted his brow and flicked his nose ring. "Well, Mr. Licks said that I shouldn't let him out of my sight, but to be blunt, I'd do anything to get rid of him. How about this? You stay here with him while I look for Pan."

"That's perfectly fair," I said with a nod.

"Great, thanks," said Point Dexter before taking off.

"Shtupid officher," grumbled Silenus. "Doesh he not know how to do hish job? He should be catching that shadow, not baby-sitting me!"

"You seem thoroughly convinced that this shadow is the cause of all our problems," I said. "Why is that?"

Silenus gave me an odd look. "Why do you wanna know?"

"I'm simply curious," I said with a shrug.

Silenus's eyes narrowed. "Curiosity killed the cat," he said darkly.

"Well, good thing Octy's not a cat then," Vinyl retorted.

Silenus paused for a moment and stroked his chin. "Hmm. Good point," he said (sweet Celestia, I can't believe that worked). "Alright, I'll tell ya what I know, but if anypony ashksh, you didn't hear it from me."

"Understood," I said with a solemn nod.

"Yeah, sure," said Vinyl. "But by the same token, you'd better not lie to us."

"H-hey! I don't lie!" snapped Silenus. "I jusht, get the truth wrong shometimesh. But not thish time!"

Bother. This is not going to be fun. Oh well, here goes everything.

***
Argument: The Shadowy Villain
***

"That shadow'sh been shtalking ush shinche yeshterday," said Silenus. "What'sh more, I caught it trying to deshtroy a pieche of evidenche. It'sh clearly behind the attacksh and the kidnapping of that lyrisht. I don't know why it'sh doing thish, but that doeshn't matter. I'll find out when I beat the truth out of it."

This, was too easy. Far too easy. I could tear down that argument with no trouble at all. But, something struck me as odd. Besides his slurred speech, Silenus actually sounded remarkably coherent for an intoxicated donkey. It's as if he was drunk and not drunk at the same time (if, that makes any sense). As such, the reason he was wrong is not because his argument was nonsense, but because he was missing something important.

"Let's start off by clarifying something," I said. "You think someone attacked Vinyl and Symphony at their respective performances, correct?"

"No doubt in my mind," said Silenus.

"How do you figure?"

Silenus tilted his head. "Pardon?"

"To the casual observer, those incidents were simply accidents," I said. "Meaning that you're not a casual observer."

Silenus shrugged. "I didn't shushpect anything until I shaw that shadow yeshterday," he said. "From there, it didn't take me long to connect the dots."

That's, quite a large leap in logic. Silenus might not be telling me the whole truth here. Which is odd, seeing as he appears to trust me on some level. Well, if I must earn his trust, then I know the perfect way to do so.

"Mr. Silenus, were you watching those performances when Vinyl and Symphony were attacked?" I inquired.

"Well, of courshe," said Silenus.

"See, I don't think you were," I said.

Silenus' eyes went wide. "What do you mean by that?"

"If you were watching those performances as closely as I was, you would know something special about this shadow you keep going on about," I said. "Both times, that shadow has appeared. And do you know what it was doing?"

Silenus had no clue. "Attacking?" he guessed.

"No," I said, adjusting my bow-tie. "It was saving the victims."

Silenus stared blankly at me before taking a large swig from his flask.

"Th-that'sh outrageoush!" he sputtered. "Why would the killer shave hish own victimsh?!"

"Perhaps the shadow is not the killer," I said. "Perhaps you made a mistake in assuming it was."

"I preshumed! There'sh a differenche!" Silenus barked.

"Nnnnnnno, there really isn't," said Vinyl.

Actually, there is, but it's very subtle. However, whether he's presuming or assuming doesn't matter; Silenus is still wrong. Mare-Do-Well is not our enemy. And I had another way to prove it.

"You said before that the shadow is responsible for that attacks and Lyra's kidnapping," I said. "Are you certain that's the case?"

"Absholutely," said Silenus firmly.

"Well, I just had a talk with Lyra," I said. "It turns out the kidnapper wanted to protect her from the killer. I don't know if you know this, but she received a death threat stating that she would be killed if she played music."

"Yeah, I know about that," said Silenus. "Everypony here got one."

"Whoa whoa, time out," said Vinyl, gesturing with her hooves. "How do you know that?"

Silenus blanched. "Crap! I shaid too much!"

So he is hiding something. Now we're getting somewhere.

"Answer Vinyl's question, Mr. Silenus," I said firmly. "How do you know about the death threats?"

Silenus paused for a moment to take a swig from his flask. "W-word of mouth," he said. "I've been hearing rumorsh about it here and there from different poniesh. Eshpecially that Shtar Maker guy muttering to 'imshelf about conshpirachy theoriesh being made by, you."

He pointed at me when he said that, and I saw a twinkle in his eye. "When you've been traveling ash long ash I have, you notiche thingsh," he said. "Sheemsh to me that you've got shomthing to hide, madam."

Bloody nora! How the hay did he turn this around and end up exposing me?! It's clear to me now that he has something to hide, but I have no way to prove it! And in the meantime, what am I going to do about this?!

"Well, you caught us," said Vinyl with a chuckle. "Tavi and I are trying to solve this mystery, just like you are."

"Vinyl~! Why does this not bother you?!" I yelled.

"What? He's on our side," said Vinyl with a shrug. "We don't really lose anything by telling him."

Except maybe our cover. Which we need to make sure the killer doesn't get suspicious of us. Ugh, there's no use fighting it at this point, is there?

"Vinyl's, right," I said. "We are trying to figure this out. Promise you won't tell anyone."

"As long as you keep your end of the bargain, I'll keep mine," said Silenus, sounding more sober. "Remember, you heard none of this from me."

"Right, of course," I said with a sigh. "Well, now that we have that out of the way, perhaps you should share with us how you know about the death threats."

"Simple. Pan knows," said Silenus.

I gave Silenus a quizzical look. "Well, of course he knows. He got one too, didn't he?"

"It's more complicated than that," said Silenus grimly. "And unlike everypony else, he didn't think it was a prank."

"How do you mean?" I asked.

"It's a bit of a tale," said Silenus. "Try and follow me on this, madam, because I don't wish to repeat myself."

***
Testimony: Pan's Knowledge
***

"Ever since Pan developed his Music Code, there have been those who have tried to steal it from him for their own nefarious purposes," said Silenus. "Of course, none of them succeeded. But they all had one thing in common. None of them were interested in the musical aspect of the Code. They simply wanted the power."

Okay, what did this have to do with anything? Because the way I see it, Silenus went from Point A to Point C without bothering to stop at Point B. I don't know if that was intentional or not, but I had to ask more questions.

"Performing magic through music is quite an impressive feat," I said. "But what makes it so special? Unicorns use magic in their everyday lives, and you mentioned before that satyrs can do the same. The method of casting shouldn't matter, should it?"

"Normally, it wouldn't," said Silenus. "But the Music Code has some spells that can only be cast through it. Take me, for instance. Thanks to a special enchantment through the Code, I can get as drunk as I want and still maintain my coordination if I so choose."

"So, that's why you were able to chase the shadow all over the building," I mused.

"Indeed, madam," said Silenus with a nod.

"I'm still confused," said Vinyl, rubbing the side of her head. "What's this got to do with the death threats?"

"Indeed, I'm curious about that as well," I said. "There isn't really any connection between being threatened not to play music and some twat trying to get their hooves on a spell book that uses sheet music."

Silenus's face darkened. "I shouldn't show you this, but seeing as we have a deal, I trust that you won't tell anypony. So, here."

He gave me a note that I presumed was the death threat Pan received from the killer. And indeed, it was addressed to Pan. However, it wasn't the same note:

Pan:

If you don't surrender the Music Code, I will destroy all music. Heed this warning, or face the consequences.

If the fact wasn't already clinched before, it was now. The killer is trying to silence all music in Equestria. And his motive is to gain access to Pan's Music Code. I'm not exactly sure why, but considering what Silenus said, I can hazard a guess that it has something to do with power. I can't imagine anyone would be so trite as to do this.

"Hey, quick question," said Vinyl. "Does Sapphire Shores know about this?"

"Nope, and you won't tell her, neither," said Silenus gruffly. "She doesn't need to know."

"Alright, alright. Sheesh, mellow out," said Vinyl. "So, our killer finally has a motive. It's a stupid motive, but hey, I'm thinking this guy's pretty stupid already."

"Don't be so quick to dismiss your enemies, madam," said Silenus with a snort. "Whoever this madman is, he's evaded capture so far. He must be doing something right."

Before I could say anything else, Point Dexter reappeared with Pan by his side.

"Silenus, you caaan't keep running off like this," Pan admonished. "What do I have to do, tie a rope around your neeeck?"

"N-no need for that," said Silenus hastily. "I'm, terribly sorry I've given you so much trouble, Pan. You as well, officer."

Point Dexter snorted. "You'd better be," he said before turning to me. "Thanks for your help, ma'am. I'm going to let Mr. Licks know the good news."

With that, he took off.

"We'd better get going, too," said Pan. "I haaave some praaacticing to do with Sapphire. Come along, Silenus."

"Coming, Pan," said Silenus. As they left, he gave me a stern look, as if to say, "Remember what we just talked about." I nodded in return.

"Well, that went smoother than I thought it would," said Vinyl.

"Agreed," I said, knitting my brow. "Although I wish I could've asked Pan a few questions. He knows what's going on."

"I'm sure you'll get around to it," said Vinyl. "Anyway, I'm gonna go ask Neon if he's seen anything suspicious. Seeya later."

With that, Vinyl left. Well, at least this was a step up from yesterday. I was finally getting some answers. Problem is I still have a few pressing questions. The biggest of which is the identity of this madman trying to hold us hostage. I started for the performance studio when I heard a voice behind me.

"I think that donkey's hiding something."

I spun around, and just like yesterday, there was Mare-Do-Well. She was once again leaning against the wall.

"You were eavesdropping, weren't you?" I said.

"As part of my investigation, yes," said Mare-Do-Well. "Why you're still at it is beyond me."

"We've been over this," I said firmly. "I'm not giving up. I can't. Not with so much at stake."

Mare-Do-Well sighed. "Tsk tsk tsk. I admire your courage, Ms. Melody; really I do. But you have to understand that you're putting yourself in harm's way and making my job more difficult."

"I was in harm's way when this whole bloody mess got started," I said.

"You know what I mean," said Mare-Do-Well. "Listen, the only thing I'm worried about is your safety and the safety of everyone else here. So, I'm asking you for the last time: Leave the detective work to me. I'll protect what's important to you, I promise."

I don't know how she knew my reasons for embarking on this mad endeavor, but that didn't matter. I shook my head.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I can't abide by that, Ms. Mare-Do-Well. I dug myself into this pit, and I need to dig myself out."

Mare-Do-Well obscured her eyes with her hat. "Then, I guess that's that. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"OCTY~!"

The conversation was interrupted by Beauty Brass calling out to me. I quickly turned to see her and the rest of my ensemble.

"I think we have to arrange a proper meeting spot for the rest of the festival," said Parish. "We can't keep searching for you like this. Ponies might start complaining about Beauty Brass."

"Right, sorry," I said sheepishly. "I was just..."

I turned back to where Mare-Do-Well was, only to find that she once again disappeared. Honestly, how does she do that? I-I simply don't know.

"You were just what?" asked Frederick.

"Nothing. It's, silly," I said, clearing my throat. "Anyway, seeing as we're all here, we should get another practice session in, yeah?"

"Glad to see that we're all on the same page," said Frederick with a smirk. "Also nice to see that you remembered your cello this time."

"Yes, well. I figured I'd be needing it," I said, brushing the back of my mane.

Beauty Brass tilted her head. "You okay, Octy? You've been acting very strange lately."

I sighed. "I'm, managing. It's just that this whole ordeal with the main events is, kind of getting to me."

"Oh," said Beauty Brass, casting her gaze downward. "I know how you feel, Octy. I'm worried about our performance tomorrow, too."

"We know, Beauty Brass," said Parish warmly, patting Beauty Brass on the back. "But we can't let happenstance dissuade us."

Or deranged maniacs, I added mentally.

"Parish is right," said Frederick. "Come what may, we should do our best. Now then, let's find ourselves a vacant performance studio."

Without waiting for acknowledgment, Frederick led the way. Of course, the rest of us followed him. As we walked, I couldn't help but notice that Beauty Brass looked a bit pale. It was just as she said. She was worried about this whole ordeal just like I was, although to what degree remains uncertain. Frederick and Parish seemed to be a bit concerned themselves, but they kept a stiff upper lip. And what's more, none of them were willing to give into the killer's demands, whether they believed them to be true or not. I smiled to myself. I expected nothing less from my ensemble; my close friends that I've grown to know so well.

They weren't giving up. And neither could I.

Advanced Tech

April 10, 2:45 PM
Lincolt Center
Performance Studio A
***

Just like yesterday, we made it through out practice session without incident. From this, I can infer that the killer is indeed only targeting the main events of the festival. That still doesn't match up with the death threats, but then again, that's the least of my worries at this point.

"That sounded wonderful, everypony," I said. "I do believe we have a good handle on things. We should be ready for tomorrow's performance."

"Assuming nothing happens to us," said Parish darkly.

Beauty Brass shivered. "Wh-why did you have to bring that up?" she stammered.

"I do apologize, Beauty Brass," said Parish with a sigh. "But the way things are going, it would be foolish of me to ignore everything that's been going on."

I can't tell if Parish is simply being pessimistic, or if he's actually starting to get wise to the killer like I am. Either way, it's clear that Beauty Brass has her suspicions. And her fears.

"Well, we can only hope that everything is fixed by then," I said with a shrug. "After all, the show must go on."

"Indeed," Frederick concurred. "This isn't the first time we've confronted adversity, Beauty Brass. And come what may, we'll get through it like we always do."

"I, suppose," said Beauty Brass, although she didn't sound too sure of herself. "I'm going to go find Pitch. She might need some moral support for tonight."

"I personally think you need it more than her, but then again, who am I to judge?" said Frederick with a shrug.

I sighed inwardly. Frederick obviously doesn't know how much turmoil Pitch Perfect is experiencing at this moment. As far as I'm concerned, both she and Beauty Brass could use the support.

"I think that's a great idea, Beauty Brass," I said. "She's over in Performance Studio B with the rest of her band."

Beauty Brass gave me a small smile. "Right. Thanks, Octy," she said. "Seeya later, guys."

With a bow, she trotted off.

"Well, I suppose that's it for practicing today," said Parish. "Shall we organize a meeting place for tomorrow?"

"How about we meet for breakfast?" I suggested. "I know this splendid coffee shop a short walk from the hotel."

"Sounds good," said Frederick. "Parish?"

Parish simply shrugged, indicating that he had no objections.

"Wonderful," I said. "And this time, I'll be sure to walk Beauty Brass over."

"Good. We wouldn't want a repeat of last time," said Frederick dryly. "Or any of the times before, for that matter."

"Right," I said, putting away my cello. "Anyway, I'd best be off. I'd like to check out the festivities a bit more before supper."

"Right-o then," said Frederick. "See you later, Octavia."

We exchanged farewells, and I made my way over to the theater. I figure now would be as good a time as any to see how Mike Check's investigation is coming along. Hopefully, he's made a bit of progress since the last time I saw him.

***
April 10, 3:00 PM
Lincolt Center
The Whinnyton Maresalis Theater
***

"I gotta level with you, Scratch. I don't know what the heck I'm looking at right now."

"Pure awesomeness, that's what."

"I mean besides that."

When I got to the theater, I was surprised to see Vinyl showing the blueprint we got from Lyra to Mike Check. While I agree that he might be the only pony who could make any sense of the thing, it sounded to me that Vinyl just wanted to show off her new toy. Er, the diagram for her new toy, rather.

"Am I interrupting anything?" I asked.

"Hmm? Oh, hey Melody," said Mike. "Yeah, Scratch was just showing me this, odd thing. She says Heartstrings found it."

"I see," said I. "And?"

"And it's weird," said Mike.

"Weird, but awesome," Vinyl clarified.

Mike rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I've never seen anything like it before. I mean, it could work conceivably, but what kind of nutjob would want to convert a stereo system into a WMD?"

That is actually an interesting question. Although a better one is how does it tie in with this mystery? And it appears that Mike hasn't got an answer for that one.

"Well, that aside, have you made any progress in your investigation?" I inquired.

"Some," said Mike. "I managed to dissect the transmitter successfully. It's controlled by remote, and it also has a defense mechanism in case anypony tries to tamper with it. That's probably what happened yesterday when we found it."

"Yeah, that doesn't really help us unless we know who's got the remote," said Vinyl.

"That's why I'm trying to coordinate with security right now to help out with the investigation," said Mike. "I've asked Point Dexter for access to the security room to see if the cameras have caught anything. He hasn't gotten back to me yet, but then again, I figure that he's pretty busy."

"How so?" I asked.

Mike's face darkened. "Slick's pulling all the stops to make sure we don't have a hat trick of *ahem* accidents. That means security is on high alert, and my crew has to quadruple-check everything before the next performance."

So, it appears Slick Licks is taking the death threats seriously, too. Not all that surprising, seeing as he has been kept apprised to everything Mike and I found. Even so, I can only imagine how frustrated he must be right now.

"What about that large tuning fork?" I asked.

Mike sighed and shook his head. "I haven't been able to figure that thing out. I was planning on taking it apart like I did with the transmitter, but I don't really know where to start. Then again, my special talent is dealing with audio equipment, not bizarre sound-based weaponry."

Suddenly, Vinyl perked up. "Wait a minute. I think I've just stumbled upon a pattern here."

"A pattern?" I parroted.

"Yeah," said Vinyl. "First the transmitter, then the tuning fork, and now this awesome Bass Cannon. The killer seems to have a thing for weaponized sound."

"How can you be sure the Bass Cannon fits into all this?" I asked.

Vinyl paused. "Good question, Octy," she said. "Mike, take another look at those blueprints. Is there anything interesting to mention?"

Mike looked over the blueprint with a critical eye. After a pause, his eyes widened.

"I think you're onto something, Scratch," he said. "Upon close inspection, some of the schematics here match those of the transmitter to a T."

"Meaning, what exactly?" I said.

"Heck if I know," said Mike with a shrug. "It doesn't really bring us closer to the killer, but it could once we have more evidence."

Well, I suppose that's better than nothing. But now that I think about it, the killer's modus operandi is a dead giveaway. After all, if he's using sound-based weapons to try and kill us, it's small wonder that Pitch was able to hear them. And even disregarding that, most musicians have rather good hearing. If Pitch wasn't catching him, I'm certain somepony else would eventually. So, why use sound-based weapons at all if it just increases your chances of getting caught? I swear, the more I think about this wanker's plan, the more it doesn't make sense.

"Well, I'd love to stick around and chat, but I've got some work to do," said Mike, giving the blueprint back to Vinyl. "Thanks again for your help, ladies. I'll keep you posted."

With that, he walked off.

"I must say, that was quite an interesting bit of reasoning there, Vinyl," I said. "I'm not sure where it'll lead us, but at least it's leading us somewhere."

"Somepony sounds frustrated," said Vinyl knowingly.

"Honestly, can you blame me?" I sighed.

"No, not really," said Vinyl with a sigh of her own. "So, what now? I'm guessing our next move is finding Pan and asking him about what Silenus told us."

"That actually wouldn't be wise," I said. "Remember, it's supposed to be a secret. If Pan is hiding this for whatever reason, we need some proof before confronting him."

"Like what?"

"I, don't know."

Vinyl shrugged. "Well, I guess all we can do then is mingle a bit and keep our ears open," she said. "Because otherwise, I've got nothing."

"What about Slick Licks?"

"What about him? The guy's probably running himself ragged trying to keep this whole shindig running. I doubt he's going to know anything new."

Then, we've truly exhausted all of our options for now. That's, quite disheartening, actually. I was hoping to find the killer and solve this mystery before the performance tonight, but it appears that was just wishful thinking. Unless I stumble across something vital, this nightmare will have to continue for another day.

I'm sorry, Fiddlesticks. I'm doing what I can, but I'm afraid it might not be enough to save you and your band from being attacked tonight. I know it's not really my fault, but I'm sorry nonetheless.

"Hey, are you okay, Octy?" Vinyl asked.

I sniffled and wiped away a single tear. "I'll be alright," I said. "Come, let's go see if we can't find some new information before supper."

"Yeah, sure," said Vinyl. She then nuzzled my cheek. "Hey, it's gonna be alright, Tavi. Whether it's today or tomorrow, we'll get this sunnova bitch. I promise."

"I know," I said somberly. "But..."

"You're worried about Fiddle, aren't you?"

She knows me too well. "Yes," I sighed. "Her and Pitch. Since Pitch is a liability to the killer's plot, it's likely that he's planning to take extra precautions."

"I wouldn't dwell on it," said Vinyl. "Your sister's a tough pony, and she's got Mare-Do-Well watching over her. They're all gonna be fine; I know it."

"Perhaps you're right," I said, trying my best not to cry. "But still, I can't help but worry."

"Yeah, I know," said Vinyl, placing a foreleg around my shoulder. "That's why I'm here."

I gave Vinyl a sad smile. "And for that, I'm eternally grateful," I said. "Alright, we've dallied here long enough. Let's go."

"Right behind you, Tavi," said Vinyl as we left the theater. I doubt we'll find anything else of interest before supper, but at least Vinyl is preventing my fears from getting the better of me. I just hope those fears don't become reality...

Orchestra Sting

April 10, 6:13 PM
Lincolt Center
The Bent Trumpet
***

I hate to come off as a pessimist, especially at a time when I should be strong. But, it appears my doubts were well-founded. After Vinyl and I had left Mike Check, we didn't find anything new, let alone the killer. As such, well, there really is nothing we can do now but sit and wait. You can imagine how upset that makes me.

"Hey, kitten. Why the long face?"

As soon as I entered the Bent Trumpet, I was approached by Slick Licks and Sapphire Shores. Both of them appeared concerned. I sighed.

"It's, nothing," I said.

"Nothing my flank," said Sapphire. "You really are a terrible liar, Tavi-doll."

Yes, I gathered that already. You don't need to keep pointing it out.

"She's worried about the performance tonight," said Vinyl. "Her sister's playing, y'know."

"Oh," said Sapphire, biting her lip. "Yeah, I see where you're coming from, Tavi-doll. How about you join Slick and me for dinner? My treat."

"Oh, thank you, but I don't wish to impose," I said.

"It's fine, kitten," said Slick Licks. "We've all been on-edge lately. I'm starting to lose my patience with Point Dexter."

"The security guard?" I asked as I sat down at their table. "Why?"

"Why do you think? The slacker's not doing his job," said Slick Licks with a snort. "Did you see what happened this morning?"

"You have to be a tad more specific," I said.

"Silenus chased some shadow all over the building," said Sapphire with a sigh. "Poor Pan was absolutely livid."

"Oh, that," I said, resisting the urge to groan. That was something I didn't wish to be reminded of. However, now that I think about it, that's actually a good point. While Fiddlesticks and I were chasing Silenus, security didn't do anything to stop him. I know Point Dexter was just hired for this position, but there's a significant difference between being green and being incompetent.

"Well, he can't be the only security guard in the building," said Vinyl with a shrug.

"He's not, but with all of these disasters, the rest of the team has been spread thin," said Slick Licks. "It was Management's decision, not mine. But that still doesn't excuse Point Dexter for doing such a lousy job. I'm beginning to think that he padded his résumé big time."

"How so?" I asked.

Slick Licks raised an eyebrow. "Why do you wanna know, kitten?"

"I'm simply curious," I said with a shrug.

"Something tells me it's not that simple, Tavi-doll," said Sapphire, knitting her brow. "I think you're poking your nose where it doesn't belong."

Eep! I, uh, nngh... Oh, who am I kidding? Practically everypony else here already knows; I might as well tell Sapphire.

"Truth be told, I've been, investigating," I said with a sigh. "I think something quite nefarious is going on here, and I've been trying to figure out what. Vinyl and Fiddlesticks have been helping me, too."

"See? That wasn't so hard," said Vinyl.

I shot her a dirty look. She really didn't need to rub salt into my wounds like that.

"Well, this is a surprise," said Sapphire with a chuckle. "Never took you for the detective type, Tavi-doll."

"Well, that's mainly because I'm horrible at it," I said, flattening my ears and casting my gaze downward.

Slick Licks let out a chuckle of his own. "You're sellin' yourself short, kitten. You've found out a lot of interesting things that Mike couldn't find on his own, and for that we're very grateful."

"Well, thank you," I said, blushing a little. "Still, I would've preferred to keep my cover."

"You're talking about the schmuck trying to kill us, right?" said Sapphire somberly.

My jaw dropped. "Okay, how did you know about that?!"

Sapphire shrugged. "I'm not stupid, Tavi-doll. Anypony with half a brain can see that these aren't simply accidents. I've had Mike Check as a roadie before; he's too good to let this stuff fly. If this dock-hole doesn't strike tonight, I'll be very surprised."

Well, it's official. Everypony here now knows that the death threats are real. I don't know whether the killer's job has become easier or harder. I'm hoping for the latter.

"Anyway, let's get back on track here," said Vinyl. "Slick, you mentioned something about Point Dexter padding his résumé. What's that all about?"

"You think he's suspicious?" asked Slick Licks.

"Not per se, but it's better than nothing," I said.

Slick Licks cleared his throat. "Well, alright. But keep this on the down-low, got it?"

"Of course," I said.

Slick Licks leaned in and dipped his voice. "According to Management, Point Dexter actually served in the military of his home country. I don't know much more than that; it's all pretty hush-hush."

Well, no wonder Slick Licks was so disappointed in Point Dexter's performance. I would believe that anyone with military experience would at least have some competence as a security guard, and Point Dexter hasn't really demonstrated that. Heck, I think Mike Check's a better security guard than Point Dexter. At least he has a sense of responsibility.

"Actually, I have some information that might help you out, too," said Sapphire.

"You do?" I inquired.

"Yeah," said Sapphire, lowering her voice. "Don't tell Pan I told you this, but he actually taught me a spell from his Music Code today."

"His what now?" asked Vinyl, tilting her head.

"Pan developed a way to perform magic through music," I explained. "That being said, why would he teach you one of his spells, Sapphire?"

"No idea," said Sapphire with a shake of her head. "I don't even know if it would work. I've never used any kind of magic before; I don't know how humming a few bars is gonna change that."

I furrowed my brow. I'll be the first to admit that I don't understand how Pan's Music Code works. But considering that he knew what was going on long before anypony else, he must've taught that spell to Sapphire for a reason. Of course, there was no way to figure out that reason without knowing what the spell did.

"Could you give us a bit of a demonstration?" asked Vinyl.

"Sorry," said Sapphire with a shrug. "I promised Pan that I'd only use it with his permission."

Figures. I guess the only way to figure this out is to talk to the satyr himself.

"Well, sorry to cut out early, ladies, but I gotta prepare for tonight's performance," said Slick Licks. "Seeya there."

With a point and a wink, he walked off.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I could really go for some grub," said Vinyl.

"Ditto," said Sapphire. "You two don't mind if I foot the bill on this one, do you?"

"Thank you, Sapphire. That's very nice," I said. "But again, I..."

"You've been driving yourself crazy with all this investigating and doing who-knows-what," interrupted Sapphire. "You deserve a break."

I sighed. It seems that Sapphire is not going to budge on this.

"Alright, fine," I relented. "Thank you again, Sapphire."

"My pleasure, Tavi-doll," said Sapphire with a smirk.

***
April 10, 6:55 PM
Lincolt Center
The Whinnyton Maresalis Theater
***

After dinner, we once again headed to the theater. While the atmosphere was thick with tension, the turnout was actually better than I expected. I'm not sure why, nor do I wish to hazard a guess. I found myself a seat next to Lyra and Bon-Bon.

"Hey, Octavia," said Lyra. "How are you holding up?"

"Oh, you know," I said, not willing to go into detail. In actuality, I was on pins and needles. Fiddlesticks, my sister, was going to be attacked by the killer. Just the thought of that caused me to shiver. Oh, I hope they turn out alright.

My thoughts were interrupted by Slick Licks appearing onstage. The audience applauded for a while, and he raised his hoof to indicate that he wanted silence.

"Welcome, fillies and gentlecolts, to our third performance at this year's Manehattan Music Festival," said he. "This next band is a group that I'm betting not a lot of you heard of. Straight from Ponyville, these musicians have a unique sound that'll leave you dancing in the aisles. This is their first performance away from home, so give a warm welcome to these fine country folk: The Ponyville Bluegrass Band!"

After Slick Licks's introduction, Kazooie and his band took the stage. It was hard to tell from where I was sitting, but I'm sure they all felt nervous. Not about their performance, mind you, but about the villain lurking in the shadows. Once the applause had died down, the three ponies got ready to play.

Pitch took a deep breath and was about to begin when her ear twitched. I swallowed. That could only mean one thing.

A split second later, Pitch let out a scream as she fell to the ground and clasped her hooves over her ears. Kazooie and Fiddlesticks recoiled from this.

"Pitch?! What's wrong?!" Fiddlesticks asked.

Pitch's only response was another scream. And all the while, I didn't hear anything. Could it be only something she could hear?

As Fiddlesticks and Kazooie ran over to their fallen comrade, I heard a familiar sound. It was a series of beeps; faint at first, but gradually getting louder and more frequent. I gasped in horror. The killer has managed to sneak in another bloody transmitter; just like the one that was meant for Vinyl! How the bucking hay did he do that?!

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud noise echoing from backstage. It was just like the last time the transmitter went off, only it was longer, louder, and a lot more painful. Seriously, I feel like my head is going to split in two at any moment! I can only imagine how much pain Fiddlesticks and her friends are in!

When the sound died down, I tentatively opened one eye in order to survey the damage. Oddly enough, the stage was deserted. In a panic, I ran up to the stage to see where Fiddlesticks and her band ended up.

I found them all backstage, lying in a heap. Upon closer inspection, I saw that they were all still breathing. Oh, thank Celestia.

"Hey, are you all okay?" I said, lowering my voice.

"A-am Ah dead?" Fiddlesticks mumbled. She then winced and rubbed her temples. "Nnngh! Nope, Ah ain't dead. Sweet Celestia, what the hay was that?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "I don't even know how the killer managed to sneak in another trans..."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH~!"

I was interrupted by a booming shriek. Even with my ears ringing, I knew right away who it was. And I had a sinking feeling that it couldn't mean anything good.

"S-stay right there, Fiddlesticks," I said. "I-I'll go have somepony call you a doctor. Right now, I have to check this out. Don't move!"

Before Fiddlesticks could respond, I started heading back into the audience. As soon as I left the backstage area, I stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn't believe my eyes.

Sapphire Shores was laying in the aisle, writhing in agony. Standing over her was a very pale-looking Beauty Brass. She was hyperventilating, and seemed to be backing away from Sapphire. Frederick and Parish were trying to calm her down, but their efforts appeared to be in vain.

"Calm down, Beauty Brass," said Frederick sternly. "I know this is frightening, but we can't lose our heads."

Beauty Brass didn't respond. She didn't even look up. Her eyes were glued on Sapphire.

"Did you hear me, Beauty Brass?" Frederick said. "I'm asking you to..."

"I GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE!"

With that proclamation, she turned tail and bolted right out of the theater at full gallop. I'll be honest here: I have no idea what just happened. I quickly ran up to Frederick and Parish.

"Wh-what's going on?" I asked breathlessly.

"I don't think we're the right ponies to ask, Octavia," said Parish. "All I know is that something's gotten into Beauty Brass, and Sapphire Shores has been hurt."

I looked over Sapphire and checked her pulse. I let out a small sigh of relief when I found that she was still alive. Good. That meant I could focus on more pressing matters.

"She's still breathing," I said. "Fiddlesticks and her band are still alive, too. I just checked up on them backstage."

"Then we have no time to lose," said Frederick. "We should go after Beauty Brass and catch her before she gets into trouble."

"Are you sure it's alright for us to leave Ms. Shores and Kazooie's band here like this?" asked Parish.

"Don't worry, I gotcha covered."

From the shadows, Mike Check walked in.

"My crew and I will look after these ponies," he said. "You go after your friend."

"Thank you, my good man," said Frederick with a bow. "Octavia, Harpo. Let's go."

"Right," I said. With that, we all ran off. Several questions ran through my mind as we left the theater, but I couldn't focus on even one of them. Not until Beauty Brass was safe. I-I just hope we can catch her before she gets too far. If something bad happens to her, I-I don't know what I'm going to do...

Truth from Shadows

April 10, 7:07 PM
Coltlumbus Circle
***

Dammit, we dallied too long. By the time we got to the ground floor of the building, Beauty Brass was long gone. That was not good. She could be anywhere by now, and I do mean anywhere.

"Well, this is a fine kettle of fish," mused Frederick.

"That's putting it mildly," said Parish. "What should we do?"

"Perhaps we're best talking to a police officer," I said. "Surely somepony saw her run by. The way she was going, she's not exactly hard to..."

A loud, booming scream cut across my train of thought. It seemed to be coming from the park.

"Or, she could be in there. That works, too," said Frederick.

This is where I envy Frederick. He can keep a cool head in situations like this. I, however, can't. As such, I took off into the park without a second thought.

"Octavia, wait!" Parish called out. "It's too dangerous to go alone! We need to stick together!"

Maybe it's because I'm panicking right now, but I don't give a flying toss about any precautions. Beauty Brass is in danger. She's my friend. I need to help her. Nothing else matters. Ignoring Parish's warning (and anything else he and Frederick were saying), I charged ahead, going deeper into the park.

***
April 10, 7:45 PM
Centrot Park
***

Okay, that was not smart. I've been running around this park for Celestia knows how long, screaming for Beauty Brass until my voice gave out. And now, I've gotten myself lost. Brilliant.

Ugh, I've been doing so much running around today (while carrying a cello on my back, mind you), I feel like I'm going to collapse. My drive to find Beauty Brass is keeping me in motion, but I really have no Celestia-damn idea where I'm headed. I haven't heard Beauty Brass call out in a while, and that has me nervous. What if she's...?

No. No, I can't think like that. She's going to be okay. I'm going to find her. Somehow. Hopefully. Maybe.

I continued walking down the paved road in the park with no firm direction in mind. I was so deep inside that I could barely hear the sounds of the city anymore. All I could hear was the rustling of the leaves; an owl hooting in the distance; the clip-clop of my hooves; my shallow breaths. I didn't even hear Frederick or Parish calling for me. I'm, alone.

As soon as that thought dawned on me, my eyes began to sting as they welled up with tears. I know I shouldn't cry. I have to be strong in these dark times. But, I-I simply can't take it anymore. This whole fiasco has been one heart-wrenching disaster after another, and I'm this close to cracking. I-I have to find my friends. They can help me.

"Beauty Brass?!" I called out hoarsely. "Frederick?! Parish?! Anypony?! Hello~?!"

No response. I tried again.

"If anypony can hear me, please respond!" I hollered. "Let me know you're there! Please, help me..."

I felt my strength begin to dwindle, both from exhaustion and despair. I-I don't know what to do. I don't know where I'm going, Frederick and Parish are probably on the other side of the park looking for me, and I have no idea what happened to Beauty Brass. If this nightmare doesn't end soon, I-I'm going to lose it.

And just when I was about to break down, a new, eerie feeling washed over me. Is it just me, or am I being, watched? And furthermore, is that a good thing or a bad thing? As I pondered this, I heard something breathing heavily behind me. That's a bad omen if I ever heard one. With a swallow, I turned around.

What I saw almost caused me to jump. Towering over me was a large stranger draped from head to hoof in a black cloak. The only distinguishing feature I could make out was a pair of glowing green eyes that stared at me. I opened my mouth to speak to it, but before I could even collect myself, the stranger raised its hoof and smacked me to the ground.

Confused and frightened, I tried to get back on my feet. However, the stranger quickly pressed its hooves against my neck and side, pinning me to the gravel walkway. I tried to struggle, but the stranger was too strong for me. My mind and heart raced in unison. What's going on? Why is this happening?

"L-look, if it's money you want, I-I'll *ack* give you all I have!" I rasped. "J-just please don't *cough* hurt me!"

The stranger said nothing. It simply reached into its cloak and pulled out a large tuning fork, just like the one Mare-Do-Well found. My eyes went wide. Th-that meant...

"Y-you're the mastermind behind the attacks."

The stranger nodded, raising the implement over my head and leering down at me. My heart pounded. Tears began to roll down my cheeks. H-he caught me. He caught me, and now he's going to kill me. My worst fears have been realized. I scrunched my eyes shut and braced myself.

However, the impact didn't come. Instead, I felt the killer's weight lift off of me and heard a heavy thud. When I opened my eyes, I gasped. The killer was laying on his back, his weapon was flung several feet away, and standing between him and me was none other than Mare-Do-Well.

"If you want her, you'll have to go through me," Mare-Do-Well proclaimed.

The killer snarled as he flipped over onto his stomach and got to his feet. In one swift motion, he turned and threw a punch at Mare-Do-Well. Mare-Do-Well ducked under the punch and countered with an uppercut. The killer reared back on his hind legs, and then brought his forelegs crashing down. Mare-Do-Well rolled out of the way, and the killer's heavy hooves slammed into the ground with a great thud that caused my heart to stop for a moment. The two continued to exchange blows, with neither side backing down. I couldn't help but stare at the fight, hoping beyond hope that Mare-Do-Well would defeat the villain.

Suddenly, there was a bright flash as one of the killer's punches sent Mare-Do-Well to the ground. As she made impact with the walkway, a glowing object flew from her body and landed a few feet away from her. The killer looked at the object, and then at Mare-Do-Well. Then, instead of pinning her to the ground, he stepped on the object. Mare-Do-Well grunted in pain and clutched her chest. I'm, not entirely sure how that works, but at this moment in time, that doesn't matter. Mare-Do-Well, the pony who dedicated herself to protecting us, was going to be vanquished. I-I couldn't let that happen.

"Hey, you!" I blurted out. "I'm the one you want!"

The killer looked up at me and released his hold on the object. Good, I've got him distracted. Now I can...

Wait a minute. What the buck am I doing?! Dear sweet Celestia, I really don't think things through when I'm panicking, do I?

But before the killer could charge at me, Mare-Do-Well grabbed one of his hind legs and tripped him (oh, thank goodness). When the killer tried to shake her off, she clutched the leg with both hooves and twisted it, causing him to howl in agony.

"You never know what a cornered beast might do," growled Mare-Do-Well, releasing the killer's leg. "If I may make a suggestion, run while you still can."

With an angry snort, the killer got to his feet and limped away. When his hoofsteps couldn't be heard anymore, Mare-Do-Well collapsed.

"Ms. Mare-Do-Well!" I exclaimed, running up to her. "Are you alright?"

"Nngh," Mare-Do-Well grunted, struggling to pick herself up. "I-I'll be okay."

I, found that hard to believe. "Do you need a doctor?"

"No! No," Mare-Do-Well snapped, catching me off-guard for a moment. "I just..."

She trailed off and collapsed again. I hate to say it, but that's just sad.

Then, I remembered the glowing object that somehow caused Mare-Do-Well pain when the killer stepped on it. I walked over to it and picked it up. It was a strange vial attached to a necklace, and whatever was inside it was creating a strong illumination that forced me to shield my eyes. Although it was difficult to tell, I managed to find a few cracks in the vial.

"Um, what's this?" I asked, showing the object to Mare-Do-Well.

"N-none of your concern. Give it here," said Mare-Do-Well, reaching out her hoof.

I shook my head. "No. I've had enough of being kept in the dark. I have been driving myself mad trying to solve this mystery..."

"And whose fault is that?" interrupted Mare-Do-Well.

"That's not the point!" I snapped, taking a moment to compose myself. "The point is that we both want the same thing. Ergo, we should help each other. And that means you should stop trying to do everything by yourself, because you clearly cannot. Trust me, if I tried to do this alone, I would've had a nervous breakdown long ago."

Mare-Do-Well obscured her eyes with her hat and sighed. "Ms. Melody, do you know what a ponunculus is?"

I blinked. "Um, no. Should I?"

"Not really. It's not a common term amongst those that don't use magic," said Mare-Do-Well. "A ponunculus is an artificial pony created by magic, and that's what I am. What you're holding right now is my core."

"I'm sorry, your what?" I asked, trying very hard to process this.

"In layman's terms, my heart," said Mare-Do-Well. "If that vial breaks, I die."

I know I should probably be surprised by this, but I've seen stranger things in Vinyl's rock operas (don't ask; you're really better off not knowing). In fact, I'm more shocked that I'm essentially holding somepony's life in my hooves.

"Oh. OH!" I exclaimed as the realization dawned on me. I quickly gave the vial back to Mare-Do-Well. "I do apologize."

"It's, fine," said Mare-Do-Well, observing the vial. "Hmm, it's not as bad as it could've been. I can probably hold off on repairing it for at least a day."

"Wait a tick," I said. "So, when I called out to the killer and distracted him from crushing your core, I saved your life."

"Yes, I suppose you, did..."

Mare-Do-Well trailed off and became silent for a time. After a pause, she let out a great sigh.

"Alright, Ms. Melody. You win," she said.

I tilted my head. "I what?"

"It appears that you were right. I can't do this alone," said Mare-Do-Well. "I didn't want you to get involved because I didn't think you could handle it. You obviously have proven me wrong."

"W-well, I'm not that great," I said sheepishly. "Truth be told, I came rather close to breaking down tonight."

"Regardless, I feel that I owe you," said Mare-Do-Well, fastening the necklace around her neck. "So, I'll help you out. Here."

She then reached into her cloak and pulled out a piece of paper.

"What is that?" I inquired.

"This, is what led me here," said Mare-Do-Well. "Open it up."

I did as she asked. On the page was a set of notes: G, D, C, B flat, A, F, G (for those who can't read music, that's Soh, Rei, Do, Ti-flat, La, Fa, Soh). I stared at the page blankly.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Sing the notes," said Mare-Do-Well.

I did so. Right before my eyes, the notes on the page swirled and spiraled around until they formed words. It read as follows:

Music is an expression of creativity, not a weapon of war. This truth must not be shattered at this year's Manehattan Music Festival.

Only one person could've written this note and encrypt it using music. There's no doubt in my mind now; Pan knew about all of this ahead of time.

"How did you come across this?" I asked.

"Pure chance," said Mare-Do-Well with a shrug. "I can only speculate, but I believe Pan sent this note with his music, intending to find somepony who could help. As it just so happened, the music chose me. It's as they say, I suppose: Magic is as magic does."

"I suppose," I said. "Well, it looks like Pan has a lot of explaining to do."

"It seems so," said Mare-Do-Well. "And I do believe our encounter with our quarry has led to some, interesting clues."

"Like what?"

"His fighting style is odd," said Mare-Do-Well. "Normally, an equine's strength is in their hind legs. However, our quarry never used his hind legs to attack me."

"So, what does that mean?"

"I'm not sure yet," said Mare-Do-Well. "But unlike before, I'll let you know when I figure it out."

I smiled. "Thank you," I said with a bow.

"No, Ms. Melody," said Mare-Do-Well. "Thank you for the lesson in humility."

"OCTY~!"

Before I could respond to that, I heard Beauty Brass calling out to me. I turned around, and sure enough, there she was, with Frederick and Parish not far behind.

"We heard some sort of commotion," said Frederick. "Are you alright, Octavia?"

"I'm fine. Nothing broken," I said. "Thanks to..."

I turned back to where Mare-Do-Well was standing, only to find that she had once again disappeared. Is this a thing with her? Does she do that to everypony she talks to? I can imagine that getting quite irritating after a while.

"Thanks to what?" asked Parish.

"It, doesn't matter," I said with a sigh. I then looked at Beauty Brass. "What about you? Are you alright?"

Beauty Brass sniffled and shook her head. "N-no. I'm scared, Octy," she whimpered. "I-I talked to Pitch Perfect, and she told me everything. We all got death threats, Octy. Someone's trying to kill us for doing what we love."

I walked up to Beauty Brass and nuzzled against her cheek. "No wonder you were so frightened," I cooed.

"Octy, we're next," Beauty Brass murmured. "Th-the killer is going to attack us next. I-I don't wanna die."

Fear gripped my heart as she said that. She's right. My ensemble is next on the itinerary. We're supposed to perform tomorrow. I sat down and wrapped my forelegs around her.

"I know, Beauty Brass," I said softly, tears streaming down my face. "I'm scared, too. But we can't give in to this madman."

"What's this all about, Octavia?" asked Frederick. "You knew this all along?"

"Yes. And I'm sorry for not telling you," I said. "I just, didn't want Beauty Brass to panic."

"Well, so much for that," said Frederick. "But, what now?"

I sighed. "It's a long story, and I really don't have the energy. I promise, I'll tell you everything over breakfast tomorrow. But rest assured, we're not bowing out."

Frederick smirked. "I wasn't going to suggest that," he said. "Come, let's get back to the hotel. It's been a long night, and we have a big day tomorrow."

That was so true, in more ways than one. I'm not sure if Frederick was taking a jab at me or not, but then again, it's Frederick. It's never easy to tell with him.

"Right, sure," I said, releasing Beauty Brass. "Do you need any help, Beauty Brass?"

"No, I'm fine," said Beauty Brass, giving me a sad smile. "I'm sorry for making you guys worry. I just, got scared."

"The same goes for me," I said, looking over at Frederick and Parish. "I should've listened to you two. I wasn't thinking."

"Nopony blames you for that, Octavia," said Parish. "Now, I think we've dallied here long enough."

"Indeed," I said. And with that, we all went back to the hotel. It's, strange. Part of me feels very, very scared right now. The killer knows what I've been doing. He's poised to attack me and my ensemble tomorrow. If it's anything like what happened to Pitch Perfect, it's probably going to be quite nasty. I should be petrified right now, but I'm not.

I'm afraid of losing my life and my friends, yes. But I can't let that stop me. It's because of that fear of looming disaster that I'll do everything in my power to avert it. I might not have saved Fiddlesticks and her band, but I'll be damned if this monster lays one hoof on my ensemble. I've said this before, and I'll say it again: These are not just my fellow performers. They're my friends, who have my back through thick and thin. And I have theirs. That means that tomorrow, no matter what it takes, I'm solving this mystery.

Fugue State

April 11, 7:00 AM
The Marerriot Hotel
Room 308
***

"Octy~."

I squirmed a bit as I felt a hoof prodding me awake. I'm used to Vinyl waking me up at the crack of dawn, but after what I had been through last night, I think I deserve to sleep in. Vinyl, however, didn't agree.

"Octy, c'mon. Wake up," she said, continuing to shake me.

"Mmph. Five more minutes," I pleaded sleepily.

"Do I have to tickle you?"

I groaned. It appears that Vinyl isn't going to budge on this.

"Alright, fine. I'm up, I'm up," I said groggily, sitting up in bed and rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"Good," said Vinyl. "So, what happened last night? Did you manage to catch BB?"

"Mmm. Yes," I said with a yawn. "She ran into Centrot Park, but we managed to find her okay."

"Cool," said Vinyl. "What was she freaking out about, anyway?"

I sighed. "She knows about the death threats being real. Pitch Perfect told her about it yesterday. After last night's attack confirmed it, she panicked."

"Ah," said Vinyl with a nod. "Well, at least we won't have to be all secretive anymore."

"Not that you were doing a good job of it," I grumbled. "And besides, I think we still need to keep on our toes."

"Why's that?"

"Two reasons. One, my ensemble is scheduled to perform tonight. That means we're the killer's next target."

"Okay. What's the other reason?"

I gulped. Vinyl isn't going to like this one bit; I know it. I just hope she doesn't get too mad.

"While searching for Beauty Brass, the killer jumped me," I said. "He knows what I've been doing. I-I didn't get a good look at him; he was wearing this cloak. But I know it was him because he was wielding the same tuning fork weapon that was used against Symphony."

Vinyl placed a hoof to her mouth and gasped. "He did what?! Tavi, a-are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I said. "Mare-Do-Well managed to rescue me."

Vinyl breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, thank Celestia for that," she said, casting her gaze downward. "Still, maybe I should've gone with you."

"It's not your fault, Vinyl," I assured her. "I brought this upon myself by risking my neck in the first place."

"That and putting yourself through the wringer," said Vinyl with a sad chuckle. She tried to play it off as a joke, but I could tell that she was being serious.

"Yes, that too," I said, biting my lip. "Actually, I came close to breaking down last night while looking for Beauty Brass."

"And did you?" asked Vinyl.

I shook my head. "No, thankfully."

"Then we've still got a chance," said Vinyl, placing a hoof on my shoulder and looking me in the eye. "I don't wanna lose you, Octy. And while I'm glad this Mare-Do-Well pony is on our side, I'm gonna step up my game, too. If that dock-hole tries to hurt you again, he has to deal with me."

"Wouldn't that require knowing who he is?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The promise still stands," said Vinyl.

I smiled. Vinyl has a firm philosophy that nothing is impossible as long as you put your mind to it. It's a good philosophy to have, but she sometimes takes it too far by ignoring reality. This time, however, I feel that she's right to think that.

"Thank you, Vinyl," I said.

"It's what I do," said Vinyl. "So, we're gonna try and catch this guy before your performance tonight, right?"

"That's the plan," I said. "I have a few leads, including some evidence that Pan knows something. But first..."

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"I wonder who that could be," I pondered aloud. "Hold on, I'll get it."

I got myself out of bed and walked over to the door. When I opened it, I was surprised to see Fiddlesticks standing before me.

"Hey," she said with a tip of her hat.

"Hello," I said with a sigh. "Fiddlesticks, I want to say that I'm, sorry about what happened last night. I wanted to prevent the killer from attacking you, but..."

"Y'all don't need to apologize fer that, Tavia," said Fiddlesticks warmly. "The important thing is we all got out alright thanks to that Mare-Do-Well feller. Pitch got the worst of it, but the doctors said that she just needed to have her ears bandaged up fer a bit."

"I'm, happy to hear that," I said. "But, what about Sapphire Shores?"

"From what Ah hear, she's gonna be okay, too," said Fiddlesticks, furrowing her brow. "'Course, Ah haven't seen her since Ah left the hospital last night."

I'm not sure what it is, but something about that strikes me as odd. Mmm, it's hard to think on an empty stomach this early in the morning. Or any other time for that matter.

Wait. I just remembered, I'm meeting my ensemble for breakfast! Now that they know what's going on, maybe they can help me.

"I'm sorry to cut this short, Fiddle, but I have a previous engagement," I said. "Again, I'm glad you're alright."

"Yeah," said Fiddlesticks, pulling me into a hug. "Ah'm glad, too. Take care of yerself, Tavia."

"I will," I said. "Vinyl will bring you up to speed. I'll see you later."

"Um, Tavi? I don't mean to interrupt, but are you planning on going out without your bow-tie?"

I blushed profusely as Vinyl brought up an excellent point. I know, it's just a bow-tie; I shouldn't be so self-conscious. However, I have my standards, as do many ponies with my upbringing.

"Th-thank you, Vinyl," I said, going back inside to make myself presentable.

***
April 11, 8:45 AM
Au Bon Pony
***

At breakfast, I told my ensemble the entire story from the very beginning, making sure not to leave out a single detail. Beauty Brass came close to shrieking a few times, but Frederick was there to rein her in. When my story had concluded, Parish was the first to speak.

"That's, quite a tale, Octavia," said he. "And to be honest, I never really pictured you to be the gumhoof type."

"You're, not the first one to say that," I said. "Again, I'm sorry for holding out on you for so long. It's not that I don't trust you; I do."

"We understand, Octavia," said Frederick. "Although I will say that your efforts to keep Beauty Brass calm did end up being in vain."

Beauty Brass blushed and cleared her throat. I'm guessing she didn't want to be reminded about that. "Actually, there's something that bothers me," she said.

"Oh? What's that?" I asked.

"Fiddlesticks told you that Sapphire Shores was going to be okay, right?"

"That's her guess. Why?"

"Well, if Mare-Do-Well was busy saving Fiddlesticks and her band, why isn't Sapphire that badly hurt?"

Eureka! That's what's been bothering me. Mare-Do-Well said that she couldn't be in two places as once, plus the attack on Sapphire completely broke the killer's pattern. By all accounts, Sapphire should be in critical condition or worse. Thank Celestia she's not, but still, this is quite odd.

"You raise a good point, Beauty Brass," I said. "If I bump into her, I'll be sure to ask her about it."

"If you want my opinion, I think the attack on her has something to do with Pan teaching her that spell from his Music Code," said Frederick, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yes, but how could the killer know about that?" asked Parish.

"Simple. The same way he knew about Pitch Perfect's ear twitch," said Frederick.

If Frederick is onto something, it's kind of going over my head. Nevertheless, perhaps there is a connection.

"Well, whatever the case, I'm going to make sure that the mastermind behind all this is stopped before sundown," I said. "Mark my words, he won't be hurting any of you. Not if I have a say in it."

"Bold words, Octavia. I'm sure you'll stand by them," said Frederick with a knowing smirk.

"Just, try not to push yourself too hard, Octy," said Beauty Brass, her face clouded with worry. "If you need to take a break, I'll be willing to help."

"We all will," said Parish. "Considering the pattern, there's not much point in us practicing for tonight with this madman still on the loose. Know that we're behind you all the way, Octavia."

I suddenly regret not letting them in on my secret. Sure, Beauty Brass panicking would've been a pain. But like Vinyl and Fiddlesticks, I take comfort in the fact that they're there to support me in this troubling times.

"Thank you," I said. "Thank you all. This, really means a lot to me."

"We know," said Frederick. "So, let's finish our breakfast and get this investigation underway, eh?"

"Sounds like a plan," said I. This was indeed a good sign. I still had my worries, yes. If you've been paying attention, that's what's been driving my actions throughout this entire bloody mess. But for the first time since this all started, I really feel confident that I can do this. I have the will to push forward, friends both high and low, and enough evidence to put all the pieces together. Indeed, there is no stopping me now.

...

What? You expected me to launch into an embarrassing confidence-fueled chant to psych myself up, didn't you? Well, sorry to disappoint, but I'm not ruining the moment by making myself look like a twat. Though I am glad that I managed to catch myself before I did.

The Turnabout Philharmonic

April 11, 9:37 AM
Lincolt Center
Main Floor
***

"Are you sure you're okay, kitten? You took a pretty nasty hit last night."

"I assure you, Slick. I'm perfectly fine."

Well, this is a surprise. Not that I'm walking into another debate (I notice that I've been doing that a lot lately), but the fact that it was between Slick Licks and Sapphire Shores. It seems that Fiddlesticks was correct: Sapphire was alright. It still doesn't make a lick of sense, but at least it saves me the trouble of tracking her down. I walked up to her and cleared my throat.

"Good morning," I said pleasantly. "I do apologize if I'm interrupting something."

"Mmm? Oh, it's fine, Tavi-doll," said Sapphire. Although she still had a good amount of cheer in her voice, it was a lot more subdued than normal. That makes sense, I suppose. One does not simply bounce back from an assassination attempt as if it were just a minor inconvenience.

"I'm actually surprised to see you here, Ms. Shores," said Frederick. "I thought you would be recovering in the hospital."

Sapphire didn't correct him about the formality (again, it makes sense, considering what she's been through). Instead, she sighed.

"Yeah, well. As I've been telling Slick here, I'm still kicking," she said. "I don't know how, but hey, I'm not complaining."

"Y-you don't know how?" parroted Beauty Brass.

Sapphire's face darkened. "Don't go spreading this around, but when I was struck by, whatever that was, I thought I was gonna die."

The way she said that caused my heart to skip a beat. I can't even begin to imagine the amount of pain Sapphire was in when she was attacked. And honestly, I'm afraid to try.

"Well, it's a good thing that you didn't die, then," said Frederick. "But it still begs the question of how you're well enough to be walking around now."

"I'm not sure she is," said Slick Licks, raising an eyebrow. "I think she's just trying to put on a brave face. While I like a feisty kitten as much as the next pony, you can't hide your pain behind a mask."

"Trust me, Slick. If I really was hurt, I wouldn't be here right now," said Sapphire.

I feel like we're going around in circles at this point. I need a bit more information from Sapphire.

"What did the doctors say?" I inquired.

"The doctors? Oh, they said I'm fine," said Sapphire. "They saw some minor bruising in my side, but otherwise, I'm a picture of health. I even have a doctor's note."

She took out a small letter and gave it to me. Indeed, the note said she was healthy. While I'm happy about this (ecstatic, even), something still seems off.

"Did anything, peculiar happen at the hospital?" I asked.

Sapphire stroked her chin in thought. "Hmm. I'm not sure. Nothing really sticks out in my mind. Then again, everything about that whole mess is a bit fuzzy."

I imagine it would be. Meaning this wasn't really getting me anywhere. Nevertheless, I had to keep pressing her. Call it mare's intuition, but I think unraveling the secret behind Sapphire's miraculous recovery might hold the key to solving this mystery.

"Anything you can recall will help, Sapphire," I said.

Sapphire furrowed her brow and continued stroking her chin. There was a heavy silence as she kept thinking and thinking. Finally, her face lit up like a Hearth's Warming tree.

"Wait, there is one thing," she said.

"And that is?"

"I vaguely remember singing that spell Pan taught me from his Music Code," Sapphire mused. "I'm not sure why; I guess I just thought it would make me feel better."

Eureka. That's exactly the connection I needed. Sorry, Silenus, but Sapphire has a right to know about what's been going on.

"Sapphire, I think I know why you were able to recover so quickly," said I.

"Really?" said Sapphire. "Well, don't keep me in suspense, Tavi-doll. What's your theory?"

"I think that the spell Pan taught you was a healing spell," I said.

Sapphire's eyes went wide. "A what?!"

"This is just an educated guess, but it's come to my attention that Pan knew about these attacks ahead of time," I said. "The killer, for one reason or another, is after his Music Code."

"Well, that's good and all, kitten, but you're forgetting something," said Slick Licks. "Sapphire here's an Earth Pony. She can't do magic."

"Regardless, Pan taught her that spell for a reason," I said. "I don't claim to be an expert on Pan's Music Code, but I think the key to casting spells in the music, not the caster's magical ability or lack thereof."

"Really now. Do you have some proof of that, kitten?" asked Slick Licks.

"As a matter of fact, I do," I said, taking out the encrypted letter. "I found this last night while looking for Beauty Brass."

Slick Licks took the note and looked it over. "It's just a bunch of notes," said he.

"Sing them," I said.

Slick Licks shrugged and took out his clarinet. He played the notes on the paper, and just like that, the notes transformed into Pan's message. Slick Licks stared at the note in awe.

"Well I'll be," he said. "Looks like you're onto something here, kitten."

"There's something I still don't get," said Sapphire. "Why did Pan have to teach me the spell? Why couldn't he just do it himself? Heck, why didn't he just use his magic to put a stop to all of this?"

"I don't think it's that easy, Sapphie."

I looked up to see that Vinyl had decided to make her way into our conversation. She was accompanied by Fiddlesticks, Kazooie, and Pitch Perfect. Just as Fiddlesticks said, Pitch's ears were bandaged up.

"How long were you standing there, Ms. Scratch?" asked Frederick.

"Actually, I just got here," said Vinyl with a shrug. "But I do think Sapphie is missing something important."

"What's that, Vinyl?" asked Sapphire.

"When you're a unicorn, you learn pretty quickly that magic has restrictions," said Vinyl. "You can't just cast a spell and make whatever you want to happen happen. Even baby unicorns with all their magic surges don't have that kind of power. And I'll bet you anything that the same goes for Pan's Music Code."

"So, it's not that he didn't want to do it, but that he couldn't?" asked Sapphire. "Why?"

Vinyl shrugged. "You tell me; he taught you the spell."

"Well, whatever the case, Pan clearly has most of the answers, if not all of them," I said. "Which means our next move is..."

"Slick!"

My train of thought was derailed by Mike Check, who barged into our conversation. He seemed to be out of breath.

"Mike? What're you doing here?" asked Slick Licks. "Shouldn't you be investigating the theater?"

"Sorry, Slick," said Mike. "I would've radioed you, but there's a bit of a problem."

"What, kind of problem?"

Mike used his magic and produced a transmitter similar to the one found in Vinyl's subwoofer. "This dock-hole's not bucking around. When I found this baby wedged between the floorboards onstage, it let loose a hypersonic pulse that damaged our headsets. This thing is a lot more powerful than the one before."

Wait a tick. There's another connection here. "Fiddlesticks, can Pitch Perfect hear sounds played at a hypersonic frequency?"

"If she can, it wouldn't surprise me," said Fiddlesticks with a shrug. "All Ah know is until that big boom occurred, Ah didn't hear a thing."

"Neither did I," added Kazooie. "That first bit must've been something only Pitch could hear."

"Truth be told, I'm glad nopony else could hear it," said Pitch with a sigh. "That, thing, was probably the worst sound I have ever heard."

It seems the killer was intent on getting rid of Pitch. This transmitter was tailor-made for her.

"Mr. Check, do you mind if I ask you a few more questions?" I inquired.

"Not at all, Melody," said Mike with a smirk. "Celestia knows you usually have something smart to say."

I couldn't help but blush a little. Honestly, I'm really not a good detective, so why does everypony treat me like I am?! Ugh, sod it. I suppose it doesn't really matter.

"Right," I said, clearing my throat. "Anyway, what about the weapon used to attack Sapphire? Have you found that yet?"

"Nope," said Mike with a shake of his head. "My boys haven't found anything, either, and we've gone over the entire theater at least twice."

"I see," said I. "Also, did you manage to get a hold of the security footage?"

"I keep asking Point about it, but he never gets back to me," said Mike with a shrug. "It's getting a bit irritating."

"What do you mean he doesn't get back to you?" asked Slick Licks.

"Just what I said," said Mike with a snort. "He doesn't outright tell me 'no,' but he hasn't given me permission, either. It's like he's ignoring me."

Slick Licks sighed. "Honestly, I don't know what to do with that guy. I have half a mind to tell Management to send him packing. Military experience my flank."

Hmm. I think everything is starting to fall into place. I have to get a few facts straight, but I do believe the conclusion to this nightmare is not that far off.

"Mr. Licks, may I make a request?" I inquired.

"Um, sure," said Slick Licks. "What is it, kitten?"

"Have everypony gather in the theater by ten thirty," I said.

"Ooh~. The classic whodunnit showdown," said Vinyl with a sly smirk. "Nice one, Tavi."

I rolled my eyes. "Vinyl, I'm begging you at this point. Can't you take this seriously?"

"Who says I haven't been?" said Vinyl. "But just because I'm taking it seriously doesn't mean I have to get rid of my sense of humor."

Okay, that was a good point, considering her positive attitude is part of what kept me going in this whole bloody mess.

"Touché," I said, clearing my throat. "Anyway, do you think you can do that, Mr. Licks?"

"Yeah, no problem," said Slick Licks. "But are you sure you know what you're doing, kitten?"

"Not entirely," I admitted. "Nevertheless, it's time to put a stop to this madness once and for all."

Confrontation: Pan

April 11, 10:30 AM
Lincolt Center
The Whinnyton Maresalis Theater
***

True to his word, Slick Licks made sure that everypony was gathered at the theater at the time I requested. I stood onstage alongside Vinyl, Fiddlesticks, Sapphire Shores, and my ensemble. There was a general muttering of confusion in the audience. Understandable, since I doubt any of them knew what was going on. Well, it's now or never. I stepped forward and cleared my throat to get everypony's attention.

"Fillies and gentlecolts," I said. "As you are no doubt aware, there have been a series of incidents at this year's Manehattan Music Festival. Many ponies have gotten hurt due to the actions of a saboteur. And that saboteur is in this theater at this very moment."

There was a collective gasp from the audience, followed by a series of nervous cross-conversations. I was expecting that to be their reaction, but that didn't make the situation any less uncomfortable. I have a bad feeling that this whole experience is going to feel this way.

"You called us all out here just to shove your crackpot theory down our throats?!" Star Maker bellowed. "You really are crazy, Ms. Octavia!"

"If y'all actually bothered to see the performances, you'd know that it ain't no theory," Fiddlesticks snarled. "Now hush up an' let her talk."

"Thank you, Fiddlesticks," I said. "Now then, I'm not sure who the culprit is, so I ask that you all cooperate with me in order to assist me with solving this mystery. With that said, I would like Mr. Pan to join me onstage."

Another collective gasp was heard, along with more cross-conversations. Again, I saw this coming. Pan is a national icon in the music world, even if ponies by in large don't know about his Music Code. Mind you, I wasn't accusing him of anything nefarious, but nopony else really knew that.

"Ms. Melody, whaaat exaaactly are you implying?" inquired Pan, stroking his beard and furrowing his brow. It was rather hard to tell what he was thinking, which immediately raised some red flags for me. Pan is not going to simply give me the information I require. I need to force it out of him through a battle of wits.

"Pan, just do as Tavi-doll says," said Sapphire brusquely. "We know that you want to put an end to this just as much as everypony else. It's in your best interest to help us."

Pan closed his eyes in deep thought for a while. After a pause, he nodded.

"Very well theeen," he said. "I'll play alooong."

He then walked up onstage as more ponies began to mutter amongst themselves.

"Thank you, Mr. Pan," I said with a bow. "Now then, I just want to ask you a few questions."

"Whaaat kind of questions?" asked Pan.

"Let's start with what happened the day before yesterday," I said. "Both you and Lyra Heartstrings disappeared for most of the day. And the next day, Bon-Bon received a letter from you that led her back to Lyra. I do believe that warrants an explanation."

"How is thaaat relevant, Ms. Melody?" said Pan, raising an eyebrow.

"I think you know how it's relevant," I retorted. "As such, I'd like you to indulge me."

Pan shrugged. "If you insiiist. But if it does turn out to be irrelevaaant, I won't let you off easy."

"I understand," I said with a nod. There's no two ways about it. Pan is definitely hiding something. I may already know what that something is, but I'll have to prove it in order to get him to come clean.

***
Testimony: Lyra's Rescue
***

"I got wiiind of Ms. Heartstrings's disappearaaance whilst looking for Silenus," said Pan. "The reason I disappeared waaas to search for her. I found her thaaat night at the Marerriot Hotel in a vaaacant room. From there, I took it upon myself to reeescue her. It haaas nothing to do with the sabotage."

"What about the kidnapper?" asked Vinyl. "If you rescued her and kicked the guy's flank, I think some of us would've heard it."

Pan bleated out a chuckle. "Believe me, Ms. Scratch. You'd be surpriiised by what a little diplomacy caaan do."

"So, you know who the guy is?" said Vinyl.

"Alaaas, no," said Pan. "It doesn't maaatter, anyway. Like I said, it's irrelevant to the saaabotage."

Except that we all know it's not. Pan's excuses would've been believable if they weren't so convenient. He's lying through his teeth; I know it. And I knew just how to set the record straight.

"Mr. Pan, you seem to stand by your claim that this has nothing to do with the attacks," I said. "However, I don't think that's the case."

"Whaaatever do you mean?" asked Pan.

"I managed to have a chat with Lyra just yesterday," I said. "She told me that the kidnapper was trying to protect her from being attacked, and that he knew the death threats were real. That right there is all the connection you need, is it not?"

Pan nervously fiddled with his panpipes as sweat trickled down his face. "Th-thaaat never caaame up in conversation. I-I didn't know the kidnapper's motiiives."

"Really now?" I said. "Because I have some evidence that says otherwise."

"Y-you caaannot be serious," said Pan nervously. "N-no such proof exists."

"Is that so?" I said, adjusting my bow-tie. "Mr. Licks, do you still have that ransom note Lyra left?"

"Sure do, kitten," said Slick Licks. "Mike, if you would."

Mike Check walked up onstage and gave me the letter in question.

"This right here is the link that connects Lyra's kidnapping with these attacks," I said, showing Pan the note. "It reads as follows: 'If you ever want to see me again, give into the demands. PS: Whoever is reading this, do the opposite of that. Don't worry about me.' Now, tell me, Mr. Pan. What 'demands' would Lyra possibly be talking about in this letter? The death threats, perhaps?"

"D-death threats?" stammered Pan.

"Don't play dumb, Mr. Pan. Everypony here knows that those threats are real," I said sternly. "There is nothing else it could be referring to."

*Tw-EET*

A shrill note sounded from Pan's panpipes as he recoiled from my logic. It seems I hit a nerve.

"Th-thaaat's still very tenuous!" he sputtered. "Th-there's no way to know for sure thaaat this letter was written by Ms. Heartstrings!"

I smirked. "Actually, you're right."

Pan blinked. "Whaaat?"

"Lyra shared something else with me, Mr. Pan," I said. "She said that she doesn't remember writing a ransom note. In fact, all she remembers is hearing a pleasant sound, blacking out, and then waking up in a dark room. She doesn't even remember you rescuing her. She fell asleep, and then woke up on a park bench in Coltlumbus Circle. Do you have an explanation for that, Mr. Pan?"

Pan swallowed. "I-I don't know whaaat you're taaalking about."

"Oh, I think you do," I said. "You disappeared along with Lyra, only to reappear along with her the next day. There's only one good explanation for that."

"Whaaat's thaaat then?"

"Mr. Pan, you were Lyra's kidnapper!"

*Tw-EET*

Another shrill note sounded from Pan's panpipes. It appears I was right on the mark.

"P-Preposterous!" Pan roared. "You haaave no way to prove that it waaas me!"

Nnngh. I hate to admit it, but he's right. The only evidence I have pertaining to the kidnapping are the ransom note, Lyra's testimony, and the blueprints for the Bass Cannon. None of those are especially helpful, especially not Lyra's testimony. She doesn't even remember half of what happened, and that casts a shadow of doubt on the entire thing. But I shouldn't back down. Pan being the kidnapper is the only way this scenario makes sense.

"Hold on there, Pan."

Sapphire Shores stepped forward with a stern look in her eyes.

"You can't pull the wool over our eyes that easily," she said.

"I-I told you before, I haaave no idea whaaat you're taaalking about," said Pan.

Sapphire shook her head. "Pan, I'm not mad at you because of what you did. I understand, or at least I think I do. I'm mad 'cause you're lying about it."

"I-I'm not sure whaaat you're getting at, Sapphire," said Pan meekly.

"Then allow me to jog your memory," said Sapphire. "Tavi-doll, you said something about Ms. Heartstrings's testimony that caught my attention."

I tilted my head. "What might that be?"

"You said that she heard a pleasant sound, and then blacked out," said Sapphire. "I think I know what that sound was."

"H-how could you?! You weren't there!" Pan protested.

"Maybe not, but I can make a educated guess," said Sapphire with a sly smirk. "Remember that spell from your Music Code that you taught me?"

Pan's face lost all color. "Wh-whaaat does that haaave to do with anything?"

"Everything," said Sapphire. "That song saved my life last night. I hummed it to myself in the hospital, and now I'm the picture of health. Now then, who's to say that you didn't use a similar spell on Ms. Heartstrings to knock her out?"

"Similar? Those spells are nothing alike! They're comprised of completely different..."

Pan trailed off the moment he realized he slipped up. Sapphire's smile broadened.

"You were saying?" she said slyly. "You can't deny it now, Pan. You might as well be honest with us."

And this is why you shouldn't write Sapphire Shores off as a mere pop singer. Not only is she very friendly and easy-going for somepony so famous, but her mind is rather sharp as well. Maybe she should've done the investigating in my stead.

"Thank you, Ms. Sh- Sapphire," I said.

Sapphire chuckled. "Not a problem, Tavi-doll," she said. "I leave the rest to you."

"Right," I said, clearing my throat. "Now then, Mr. Pan. We know that you were the one who kidnapped Lyra. From that, we can infer that you knew about these attacks ahead of time. Do you deny that?"

Pan sighed and hung his head. "No, I do not deny it," he said sheepishly.

"Then let us dally with the truth for a while," I said. "Tell us the whole story, and spare no detail."

"As you wish, Ms. Meeelody," said Pan with a bow. "But be forewarned: This tale is nooot for the faint of heart."

"Believe me, Mr. Pan. I've been through quite a lot in this whole mess," I said. "I think I can handle this tale of yours."

Pan smiled. "I'm haaappy to hear thaaat."

***
Testimony: Pan's Tale
***

"It aaalll started with a letter I got long before the festival," said Pan. "Someone waaas after the secrets behind my Music Code once agaaain. But this foe waaas going to even greater extremes thaaan ever before. Silenus aaand I haaad to maaake sure he didn't succeed. Indeed, I kidnaaaped Ms. Heartstrings and made her write the ransom note to that end. Aaand while I searched for clues to unmask the villain, Silenus keeept security occupied so thaaat I could work in peace."

So the whole thing with Silenus pestering Point Dexter was a ruse, as was Lyra's ransom note. However, this still sounds wrong note to me (no pun intended). I can't quite place my hoof on what, but maybe Pan has some more details.

"Tell me, Mr. Pan. Was there anything preventing you from using your Music Code to, say, make the villain confess? Or stop the attacks before they happened?" I inquired.

Pan snickered. "If only it were thaaat easy, Ms. Meeelody. My Music Code only haaas a finite number of speeells; none of which can grant me omnipotence nor omniscience. Mooost of it is common satyr maaagic, such as curing poisons and hypnotism."

"So, that's how you had Lyra write the ransom note, and why she doesn't remember doing so," I mused. "Your spell lulled her into a trance."

"Correeect," said Pan.

Well, that answers those mysteries. However, it doesn't really get me any closer to the culprit. Perhaps if I approach this from a different angle, I'll find out more.

"Tell me, Mr. Pan. Do you know who the culprit is?" I asked.

"I haaave a rough ideaaa, but I caaannot say for certain," said Pan, stroking his beard in thought. "Silenus said he found a major clue, but he looost it."

I'm not sure what that clue could be. It couldn't be Mare-Do-Well; I already convinced Silenus that she was here to help us. Besides, Pan doesn't know of her existence. Or, does he?

"Mr. Pan, do you recognize this?" I asked, showing him the note I got from Mare-Do-Well.

Pan grabbed the note from my hooves and read it over. His eyes went wide. "Wh-where did you geeet this?"

"It was given to me last night by the one who received it," I said. "You know that shadow Silenus has been chasing around?"

"Whaaat, thaaat nonsense?" said Pan, raising an eyebrow. "Thaaat was juuust an act. I thought we weeent over this."

"Maybe to you," I said. "But for a time, Silenus believed that he was on the trail of the culprit. But, as it so happens, the shadow's intentions were quite the opposite. I won't reveal who she is, for I'm sure she wishes to remain anonymous. But she is the one who received her letter, as well as the one who has protecting us from the culprit's attacks!"

"Silenuuus! Get up here right noooow!"

Pan's face turned bright red, and it looked like steam would be coming out of his ears at any moment. I wonder if this happens all the time with those two. Silenus walked up, his head hanging low.

"I-I'm shorry, Pan," he apologized. "I-I didn't know the shadow wash helping ush. But Missh Octavia shet me shtraight, right?"

"Perhaps so, but I think Mr. Pan still has a reason to be mad at you," I said. "You misplaced a vital clue leading to the saboteur's identity, didn't you?"

"I-I didn't mean to!" yelped Silenus. "I-It wash an acchident! I wash drunk!"

Pan deadpanned. "Thaaat's not an excuse, Silenus. You're almost always druuunk."

"Let's get back to the topic at hand, shall we?" I said. "Because I want to bring up something important in the note you sent to our mysterious guardian, Mr. Pan."

"Whaaat might thaaat be?"

"The note said, and I quote: 'Music is an expression of creativity, not a weapon of war.' From this, I infer that you believe that our culprit was after your Music Code to turn it into a weapon. Am I correct?"

"You aaare," said Pan. "The letter I gooot haaad a military seal on the envelope. Silenus, do you still haaave thaaat?"

Silenus blinked. "Have what?"

I smacked my forehead. "The envelope, you twat."

"Oh, rightrightright. Sure, hang on."

Thankfully, Silenus did have the envelope. And just as Pan said, it had a very formal-looking military seal.

"So, let me ask you this, Mr. Silenus," I said. "This clue that you lost. Do you remember what it was?"

Silenus hemmed and hawed for a while before letting out a frustrated snort. "Crap, I forgot. B-but I do remember where I found it!"

"Hey, better than nothing," said Vinyl with a shrug. "Lay it on us."

"I found it on the floor in thish here theater," said Silenus. "It musht've fell out of shomeone'sh pocket."

Well, that didn't help. It really could be anything at this point. But, what? What?! Nnngh, I have no idea!

"Don't tell me you're giving up already, Tavi."

I turned to Vinyl, and saw that there was a distinct twinkle in her eye.

"I-I'm not giving up, Vinyl," I said. "I-I just don't know what the clue could be."

"You were on the right track, Tavi," said Vinyl. "But I think you gotta step back and think outside the box for a minute. This is a clue that Silenus misplaced, right?"

"Yes."

"And it can prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, who the culprit is, correct?"

"So he claims. What are you getting at?"

"We've got that clue, Octy."

I stared blankly at Vinyl. "We do?"

"Yep."

"Well, what is it?"

"Think about it, Octy. What has the culprit been using on us?"

"Sound-based weaponry. What does that have to do...?"

I trailed off. This was a massive leap in logic, but I guess that's what Vinyl meant by thinking outside the box. And if this was correct, well, that cracks this whole case wide open.

"Mr. Silenus, I believe we have the clue you were looking for," I said. "Vinyl, if you would."

"You got it, Tavi," said Vinyl, taking out the blueprints for the Bass Cannon. "Lyra said she woke up lying next to this when Pan returned her to Coltlumbus Circle. Look familiar?"

Silenus tilted hit head this way and that, narrowing his eyes as he studied the document. "Huh. Sho that'sh where that went." he said.

"You gaaave it to Ms. Heartstrings?!" Pan boomed. "Whaaat were you thinking?!"

"I, washn't," said Silenus bashfully. "I wash drunk, remember?"

Pan pinched the bridge of his nose. "You aaare simply incorrigible," he groaned. "And furthermore, whaaat kind of clue is this?"

"A damn good one, if I do say so myself," said Vinyl. "These are blueprints for a kickass weapon. I know what you're thinking: How does that connect to anything? Well, hear me out. What if these are military blueprints?"

Her query was met with a collection of blank stares.

"That is perhaps the craziest thing I have ever heard," said Frederick.

"Well, that's because you don't live with her," I said. "However, let's say that she's correct for the sake of argument. These are military blueprints, meaning that they belong to the one behind the attacks. Mr. Silenus, do you remember when you picked this up?"

"Hmm. I think it wash two daysh ago," he said, stroking his chin and knitting his brow. "I kinda remember dishtracting shecurity at the time sho that Pan could protect Missh Heartshtringsh."

That right there caused something to click in my brain. I think I know who the culprit is. I mean, I'm not sure how or why, but really, there's no one else it could be.

"It looks like you've got something to say, Tavi-doll," said Sapphire. "Mind cluing us in?"

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. If I was right about this, then the endgame is surely upon us.

"There is only one person in this theater who could be the mastermind behind everything that has happened," I said, pointing an accusatory hoof into the crowd. "And I believe that person is you...

"Mr. Point Dexter!"

Confrontation: Point Dexter

Point Dexter was taken aback by my accusation, but only for a brief moment. When he regained his composure, he folded his arms and narrowed his eyes.

"And just why do you think it was me, Ms. Melody?" he asked.

"I think Melody has a good case here, Point," said Mike Check with a snort. "You haven't exactly been doing a good job around here."

"Not to mention that we already know about your military background," added Slick Licks. "Sorry, daddy-o, but the evidence is against you. It's time to face the music."

Point Dexter furrowed his brow and flicked his nose ring a bit. "What if I were to say that I have an alibi?"

"An alibi?" I parroted.

"Yes, an alibi," said Point Dexter, making his way to the stage. "After all, we're all civilized creatures here. I'd like a chance to defend my actions."

We all looked at each other and exchanged shrugs.

"That's, actually entirely reasonable, Mr. Dexter," I said.

"But no funny stuff," said Vinyl, giving Point Dexter an "I'm watching you" gesture.

"I wouldn't dream of it," said Point Dexter, finally joining the rest of us onstage. "You'll soon see that I have nothing to hide."

"'Nothing to hide' my flank," Mike snarled. "These Bass Cannon blueprints are most likely yours, and the match the specs of the transmitters I found. Not to mention that you've been stonewalling me about the security footage."

"I have a rational explanation for everything," said Point Dexter. "And if I don't, I'm sure Ms. Melody here will be able to prove me wrong."

Great. Put all the pressure on me, why don't you? Oh well, I guess I deserve it for accusing him.

"Alright, Mr. Dexter. Let's hear this alibi of yours," I said.

"Thank you," said Point Dexter, clearing his throat.

***
Argument: Point Dexter's Alibi
***

"Let's start with what you got right," said Point Dexter. "The blueprints for the Bass Cannon are indeed mine. They were a keepsake from my days in the military. However, that's all that I brought from my home country; nothing else. Also, I recognize that my performance as a security guard hasn't been up to par. This is due to that infuriating donkey. He has done nothing but cause me grief ever since this festival began, so I haven't been able to deal with anything else."

Something feels wrong here. Point Dexter is unbelievably calm for someone accused of sabotage and attempted murder. It's as if he has nothing to fear from me. Could that be because he, doesn't? I have to know more.

"Tell me about your military career, Mr. Dexter," I said. "You said the blueprints for the Bass Cannon were a keepsake, correct?"

"Yes," said Point Dexter, flicking his nose ring. "I worked in the military's R&D department, developing new weapons for the minotaur militia."

"Weapons such as the transmitter and the giant tuning fork we found?" asked Fiddlesticks, giving Point Dexter the evil eye.

"Correct," said Point Dexter with a nod. "However, like I said, I didn't bring them here to Equestria."

"And yet, they were found at the scene of the crime," I said. "That right there is a contradiction of the facts."

Point Dexter snorted and flicked his nose ring. "Ms. Melody, if my fellow minotaurs discovered me trying to sneak those weapons out of the country, I wouldn't be standing here right now. I'm just as baffled as you are that someone managed to smuggle them here."

Dear sweet Celestia, I may have made a terrible mistake. There's no way to disprove Point Dexter's alibi; it's practically airtight. There are some ambiguous points that he's not addressing, but I haven't found any evidence to contradict him. But, if he's not the mastermind, then who is? There is no one else it could be. It has to be him, right? Right?!

"You okay, Octy?" asked Vinyl. "You look a bit pale."

"Just, give me a minute," I said, trying to calm down. Come on, think! There has to be something I'm overlooking! Either Point Dexter is lying, or someone else is the culprit. But, which is it?! And how the hay am I supposed to prove either supposition?! I can't! There's no evidence left! Oh Celestia, what do I do?! What do I do?!

"This isn't over yet, Ms. Melody."

A familiar voice made itself known, and I wasn't the only one who heard it. Everypony looked around in confusion, trying to find the source of the voice.

"Who's there?" growled Point Dexter. "Show yourself!"

The figure complied with Point Dexter's demand, touching down on the center of the stage. Just as I suspected, it was the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well.

"Shee?! I told you that shadow exishted!" Silenus exclaimed.

Mare-Do-Well ignored Silenus and turned to me. "Ms. Melody, did you notice something odd about Mr. Dexter's alibi?"

"No, that's just the thing. It's actually really good," I said.

Mare-Do-Well shook her head. "It's good, alright. But I'm not sure if I would really call it an alibi."

Point Dexter leered at Mare-Do-Well. "What are you implying, you weirdo?"

"An alibi gives an account of what exactly you were doing when the crime occurred," said Mare-Do-Well. "You may very well be telling the truth, Mr. Dexter, but unless we know what you were doing when the attacks happened, it's not an alibi."

Point Dexter growled and crossed his arms. "I already told you: I was busy with that stupid donkey. What's more, everypony knows that's what I've been doing. I have no reason to lie about that."

Wait a tick. That's it! How could I have been so blind?! It's so bloody obvious!

"Mr. Dexter, please accept my humble apologies," I said with a bow.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Octy, what the hay are you doing?!" exclaimed Vinyl. "This guy has to be the culprit! You said so yourself!"

"Well, I was wrong," I said. "I'm allowed to be wrong, aren't I?"

"No one's sayin' you ain't, Tavia," said Fiddlesticks. "But we have the weapons, his military background, and the blueprints Silenus picked up. Plus, bein' part of security, nopony would've been suspicious of 'im movin' around durin' the performances. He has to be the dock-hole whose flank we need to kick! There's no one else it could be!"

"I thought that, too, Fiddlesticks," I said. "But then something else came up. Mr. Dexter, you said you were busy contending with Silenus, and that's why security has been so lax."

"That's correct," said Point Dexter.

"I think there's more to this story," I said, adjusting my bow-tie. "Tell me, what exactly has Mr. Silenus been doing to cause you such grief, hmm?"

"Huh wha?" said Silenus, tilting his head. "I-I dunno what that'sh gotta do with anything. I wash jusht dishtracing the officher sho that Pan could work in peache."

"I'm not interested in what you were doing per se, Mr. Silenus," I said. "I'm interested in how you were going about doing it."

"I haaave to agree with Silenus here," said Pan, raising an eyebrow. "He promised me thaaat he didn't do anything dangerous."

Point Dexter scoffed. "Is that a fact?" he said, flicking his nose ring. "I'll have you know that your little friend was more than just a nuisance."

"Sounds like you have a bit of a story to tell," said Sapphire Shores.

"I do," said Point Dexter with an angry snort. "Just, bear with me. Remembering what that drunkard did makes my blood boil."

"Noted," I said with a swallow. I really hope this leads to the truth behind this mess, because I have no backup plan right now. I can't be sure if anypony else has one, either. Well, not much I can do about that now.

***
Testimony: Silenus's Shenanigans
***

"If he was just getting himself lost by wandering off, we wouldn't have a problem," said Point Dexter. "But it goes way beyond that. He's also been running around and touching stuff he shouldn't. He even messed up the security system when I took him to the security room. I spent an entire night trying to fix those cameras, and the next day he messes them up again! I'm telling you, that donkey is a menace!"

Ahh~. Now everything is starting to make sense. Emphasis on "starting," mind you; I still have a lot to figure out.

"Let's get the obvious out of the way," I said. "Besides the security console, what else did Mr. Silenus touch?"

"I first caught him poking his hoof in some audio equipment," said Point Dexter. "That was on the first day of the festival."

"Hang on, hang on," said Vinyl. "What kind of audio equipment?"

"A large subwoofer. I managed to get him away before he broke it, thankfully."

I have a good idea where this is going. But just to make absolutely certain I wasn't jumping to conclusions again, I decided to press him a bit more.

"Yesterday, there was a bit of an incident with Mr. Silenus chasing a shadow all over the building," I said. "Why didn't you stop that?"

"I thought Pan had a handle on that," said Point Dexter with a shrug. "That's what he told me, anyway. Besides, I had more important things to do."

"Such as?"

"Fixing the security cameras," said Point Dexter. "I couldn't get them to work the night before, and I'm positive that idiot donkey had something to do with it."

"That's when you brought him into your office, correct?"

"Yes."

"Then, why did you do it again?" asked Frederick. "That doesn't sound too smart."

"Well, that's because I thought he was sober the second time," said Point Dexter. "Yesterday when he wandered off again, he wasn't doing that slurring thing. I brought him to the security room and told him not to touch anything while I went to look for Pan. But when I got back, the system was on the fritz again."

I do believe that's all I need. I adjusted my bow-tie and smirked.

"That's quite a tale, Mr. Dexter," I said. "However, you're wrong about one thing."

"And that is?"

"Mr. Silenus is not an idiot."

"Well, of courche I'm not," said Silenus. "I jusht don't think shometimesh."

"You misunderstand, Mr. Silenus. I'm saying that you're a diabolical genius," I said.

Vinyl's jaw dropped. "Tavi, did you just call an alcoholic donkey a genius?"

"He's smarter than we give him credit for, Vinyl," I said. "Let's start with the subwoofer. That happened at the first performance on the eighth of April, right?"

"That's what I said," Point Dexter stated.

"That was the night of Vinyl's performance," I said. "And if you'll recall, Mr. Check, we found the first transmitter inside a subwoofer, did we not?"

"Yeah, we did," said Mike with a nod.

"Ergo, the one who planted the device has to be none other than..."

"Hold on!" Silenus interrupted. "I know what you're gonna shay, and I'm shayin' that'sh a load of crap. I would never do that to Pan! Not no way, not no how!"

"Normally, I'd believe you," I said. "But there's something else. The security cameras. Mr. Dexter, when were they tampered with?"

"Yesterday and the day before," said Point Dexter.

"And both those days, the culprit used the tuning fork weapon; a device he had to handle manually," I mused. "Now then, what if those cameras were taken out for a reason other than drunken incompetence? What if they were used to, say, make security blind to what was happening during the performances?"

"N-now you're jusht making shtuff up!" barked Silenus. "Y-you can't prove that!"

"Perhaps not, but I have yet to play all of my cards," I said with a smirk. "Vinyl, remember the blueprints to the Bass Cannon?"

"Um, duh. Who could forget such badass awesomeness?" said Vinyl.

"Refresh my memory. Who found that evidence initially?"

"Well, it was Silenus."

"And who misplaced it by giving it to Lyra?"

"Silenus."

"Right. Now, here's a hypothetical for you. What if he did that on purpose?"

It didn't take long for Vinyl to see what I was getting at. "You're coming dangerously close to blowing my mind, Tavi. Are you sure you're not a detective?"

"If I was, I would've pieced this together long ago," I said. "But that doesn't matter. What does matter, however, is that we finally have our culprit."

I stood up on my hind legs, drawing myself to full height and pointing an accusatory hoof. "Mr. Silenus, I propose that you are the mastermind behind the attacks! You used being Pan's assistant as a cover to avoid suspicion and stole Point Dexter's blueprints for the Bass Cannon in order to throw us off the scent! In fact, I could argue that you were chasing the shadow in order to stop her from mucking up your plans, not because you thought she was guilty! Care to correct me, Mr. Silenus?!"

There was a long silence as we all waited with bated breath for Silenus's response. That silence was broken by him snickering.

"You seem intent on pinning this on me, madam," he said, a sinister gleam in his eye. "However, you're going to have to do a lot better than that."

Finale: Can't Stop the Music

Silenus's sudden shift in attitude not only caught me off-guard, but it sent chills up my spine as well. Why was he acting like this? Pan seemed equally startled.

"Silenus, whaaat's gotten into you?" he asked.

"Nothing, Pan. Everything is fine," Silenus spat. "It just seems that our makeshift detective is spouting off nonsense."

"N-nonsense?" I parroted.

"Come now, madam. Do you honestly think that I'm the culprit?" said Silenus with a chortle. "All you have is speculation and supposition. You can't pin this on me."

"And we're just supposed to ignore the fact that you're acting very suspicious right now, is that it?" asked Vinyl, folding her forelegs.

"What can I say?" said Silenus with a shrug. "I get rather defensive when somepony accuses me of sabotage and attempted murder."

"Ah wouldn't really describe that there attitude as 'defensive,'" said Fiddlesticks, narrowing her eyes.

"Of course you wouldn't," Silenus scoffed. "But that's because you haven't heard my counter-argument yet."

"Be careful here, Ms. Melody," Mare-Do-Well whispered to me. "He seems too confident for being exposed. He has a plan to get out of this situation scot-free."

"You really think he's the culprit?" I whispered back.

"Without a doubt," said Mare-Do-Well.

I swallowed. Now we're really getting close to the endgame. I can't mess up here, no matter what. My life, the lives of everypony I care about, and my greatest passion that makes up who I am are all on the line.

"Alright then, Mr. Silenus. Let's hear this counter-argument of yours," I said.

"Splendid," said Silenus, taking a swig from his flask. "Be sure to keep me entertained, madam. I haven't taken part in a good debate in a long time."

I-is this a game to him? I thought he was odd before, but now I see that he's completely mad. Mare-Do-Well's right; he must be the culprit. Dammit, I can't lose here!

***
Argument: Silenus's Counter-Argument
***

"There are several holes in your argument that you fail to address, madam," said Silenus. "First off, the tools used to commit the crime. The officer here said that those tools are nigh-on impossible to sneak out of his home country. So, I ask you, how is a drunken bum like me supposed to carry it out? Second, the culprit knew about Pitch Perfect's special hearing. However, if he was attacking during Ms. Symphony's performance, he couldn't have been made privy to that. In fact, Mr. Dexter is still the more likely culprit. He has access to the security cameras, and he could be lying about my tampering with them. So, all in all, it's rather foolish of you to try and pin this on me."

"Okay, how do you know half this stuff?" asked Vinyl. "Octy hasn't shared that information with everypony, y'know. Especially not you. That already makes you a suspect."

"I could've heard that information from anywhere," said Silenus nonchalantly. "And you can't prove that me having this knowledge makes me the culprit."

I hate to say it, but he's right. His attitude may suggest otherwise, but we can't accuse him based simply on that. I need more concrete evidence. I'll answer the second question first.

"I think I know of a way you could've discovered Pitch's ear twitch," I said.

"I doubt that, but please, proceed," said Silenus haughtily.

"First, let me ask Mr. Pan a question," I said. "During the first performance, Vinyl's set, you were sitting with Sapphire and Mr. Silenus, correct?"

"Yes, thaaat's right," said Pan.

"Now then, do you remember who you were sitting behind that night?"

Pan stroked his beard in thought. "I thiiink so."

"Would you be able to point him or her out of this crowd?" I inquired, pointing to the audience.

Pan turned and looked over the crowd. "Yeees, I caaan. I waaas sitting behind that mare over there."

He pointed to a pony in the crowd. I looked where he was pointing and smiled. It was just who I thought it was: Pitch Perfect.

"Just so that there's no confusion, will the pony Pan is pointing to please stand up?" I asked.

Pitch complied.

"And there you have it," I said, turning back to Silenus. "You were sitting behind Pitch Perfect the night of Vinyl's set. And during that set, she heard the transmitter you planted in the subwoofer. Ergo, you saw her ears twitch."

"Your argument is still flawed, madam!" Silenus snapped. "If I saw it then, why did I wait until after Ms. Symphony's performance to send her the threat?!"

"Okay, now you're jus' diggin' yer own grave," said Fiddlesticks with a snort. "There's no way y'all could've known 'bout that letter. Ah only told Tavia an' Kazooie 'bout that, and the only pony she told was Vinyl. Plus, Kazooie was watchin' over Pitch all day! You couldn't 'ave known 'bout that jus' from random gossip!"

"Bah!"

Silenus sounded like he was scoffing at that, but he clearly recoiled from Fiddlesticks's logic.

"Ready to give up yet, buster?" asked Sapphire Shores.

"Y-you haven't won yet!" Silenus barked. "What about the tools?! Mr. Dexter is the only one with access to that technology! I couldn't have used them!"

Bollocks. That's a good point. How was he supposed to get his hooves on such advanced military equipment? There has to be something I'm missing, but for the life of me, I can't even begin to imagine what that something is! But unless I prove it, he's never going to confess!

"What's the matter, madam? Cat got your tongue?" taunted Silenus. "Just save yourself the embarrassment and withdraw you accusations. I won't hold it against you. After all, you're no detective."

Come on, think! I'm overlooking something; I know I am! What is it? What is it?! I can't let up now that I'm so close! What am I going to—?

"OBJECTION!"

My thoughts were interrupted by an exclamation from Beauty Brass. All eyes were now on her.

"Do you mind? We're trying to have a discussion here," snarled Silenus.

"Sorry, sorry," said Beauty Brass sheepishly. "I just remembered something from last night."

"What, when you went running off screaming into Centrot Park?" asked Frederick.

"Y-yes, that," said Beauty Brass, blushing slightly. "See, I saw something while I was there."

"That has nothing to do with what we're talking about," said Silenus.

"B-but what if it did?" asked Beauty Brass. "Octy, give me a chance here. I-I might be able to help you."

Mare-Do-Well placed a hoof to her muzzle, and then looked at me. "Well? Shall we?" she asked.

"We don't have many other options," I said. "Beauty Brass, if it's not too much trouble, please give us your testimony."

"Okay," said Beauty Brass. "Thanks, Octy."

"If this turns out to be irrelevant, I expect you to concede that I'm innocent," said Silenus, leering at me.

"We won't know until we hear from Beauty Brass," I said sternly. Although honestly, I really hope she's onto something. Otherwise, we're doomed.

***
Testimony: What I Saw
***

"Well, as you remember, I ran screaming into Centrot Park because of what happened to Sapphire Shores last night," said Beauty Brass. "I kept running and running until I saw something happening in the moonlight. It was a shadow with a bunch of trinkets laid out on a black blanket. Curious, I looked on for a while until it turned to me with these horrid green eyes. I screamed again, ran away, and hid myself under a bridge until Frederick and Harpo found me."

"That second scream when you found the shadow. That must've been the one we heard when we finally got outside," mused Parish.

"But it's still completely irrelevant," said Silenus with a snort. "Ready to admit defeat, madam?"

"Not quite," I said, stroking my chin in thought. Beauty Brass brings up an excellent point that I didn't consider: The killer's attack on me last night. It's obvious that she managed to come across him during her panicked foray into the park. But I have to know more.

"Beauty Brass, do you recall the nature of the trinkets you saw on the black blanket?" I asked.

"Kinda," said Beauty Brass, furrowing her brow. "There were a few small silver-y things, and a long golden thingie. The golden thingie was easier to see because of the moon's reflection."

"Can you describe it in more detail?" I inquired.

"It looked like a large tuning fork."

Eureka. That was exactly what I needed.

"Beauty Brass, I thank you," I said with a bow. "You have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that Silenus is the mastermind."

"Ridiculous!" Silenus snapped. "She hasn't proven anything!"

"Let's go over a few things first," I said. "Last night, while looking for Beauty Brass, I was attacked by the culprit. As it so happens, he had glowing green eyes, and he was wielding the large tuning fork that Beauty Brass just described. The same tuning fork, mind you, that was used to attack Symphony during her performance!"

"Th-that doesn't prove it was me!" Silenus sputtered. "You still haven't answered my question! How could I have gotten those weapons?! I've never been to the minotaur country!"

"Now thaaat right there is a lie," said Pan. "We were there juuust laaast month."

"W-well, that still doesn't prove anything!" shouted Silenus. "I didn't get into any trouble there, Pan! You know that!"

Pan folded his arms and shook his head. "As I recaaall, you diiid. Or did you forget how you somehow maaanaged to have a full platoon chase you through the busy maaarketplace?"

"Hey, I-I was drunk!" Silenus protested.

"Thaaat's still not an excuse," said Pan firmly. "Don't you remember that spell I cast on you? You haaave the option of maintaining control of your inhibitions even when you're drunk. And you caaan't tell me you forgot thaaat one time, because you were outrunning those soldiers. I remember it quite clearly."

"P-Pan, how can you say that?" said Silenus. "I-it's me, your old buddy Silenus, remember? I-I wouldn't try to kill anypony! That mare is as mad as a hatter, trying to play detective and accuse me of such heinous acts!"

"There's one more thing, Mr. Silenus," I said. "I have yet to play my trump card."

"You're bluffing! You have nothing on me!" boomed Silenus.

"Indeed I do," I said. "Because as I recall, the culprit was attacked by our guardian angel over here."

I pointed to Mare-Do-Well as I said that. Mare-Do-Well gave me a nod of recognition, and I continued.

"Now then, during the struggle, she managed to twist the culprit's hind leg. So, if you're indeed the culprit, then one of your legs must be wounded!"

"Th-that's still circumstantial evidence!" Silenus squawked. "What if I just had a hernia, huh? There's a reason why we have a word for coincidences!"

"Maybe so, but when I fought the culprit last night, I noticed something interesting," said Mare-Do-Well. "I recognized your fighting style. Drunken boxing, am I right?"

Silenus gulped. "Th-that's a common fighting style. Anypony can learn it."

"Except that you fought this opponent before," I said. "Remember, when you were chasing the shadow and claiming that she was the villain? There's a very good chance that she could've recognized your style from that. So, as a final test, Mr. Silenus, I ask you to walk around a bit. Show us that your leg is fine. If you can, I'll withdraw my accusations and leave you be."

Silenus was sweating profusely now. "I-I-I... GRAH!"

He quickly downed half of the contents of his flask and slammed his front hooves against the stage. An angry inferno blazed is his eyes as he glared at me.

"Y-y-you haven't won!" he slurred. "I've been tryin' to get Pan'sh Mushic Code for yearsh now, and you're not takin' it away from me!"

"I think we can take that as a confession," said Vinyl.

"Silenus, I don't understaaand," said Pan. "We've been traaaveling ever since I started off as a minstrel. Were you really after my maaagic this whole time? How could you?"

"How couldn't I?" Silenus snarled, turning savagely to Pan. "You had all thish power right at your fingertipsh, and what do you do with it? Shquat, that'sh what! Don't you realize that you can change the mushic world ash we know it?!"

"Thaaat's exaaactly what I don't wish to do," said Pan. "The music world is fine the way it is."

"Pah! Of courshe you'd shay that," said Silenus. "But what happensh when your mushic ishn't popular anymore, huh? Theshe thingsh are alwaysh in flux. Shongsh and artishtsh come and go, and no one remembersh the onesh who were losht in the shuffle."

"Yeah well, so what?"

Silenus whipped around and glared at me again. "What did you shay?"

"I said so what?" I repeated. "It's true that some ponies make music to become famous. That's fine; fame and recognition isn't a bad thing. But there are some of us who don't really care about that. To me, music is how I express my feelings and emotions creatively. I just happen to be really good at it."

Silenus snickered. "You think thish ish about fame?" he said. "Fame hash nothing to do with it! It'sh about change!"

"What kind of change?"

"From an art form to a practical tool."

"By 'practical tool,' you mean a weapon, right?" said Sapphire. "Sorry, Silenus, but that's not what music is all about. It's about artistic expression and entertainment, just like Tavi-doll said."

"Well, it shouldn't be," Silenus spat, his voice dripping with venom. "I've sheen Pan'sh Mushic Code do thingsh that you could only imagine. And in my hoovesh, it can do sho much more. That'sh why I had to get it and learn itsh shecretsh."

"So that's why you stole my weapon designs and tried to pin it on me," said Point Dexter, flicking his nose ring. "You probably used that blanket Ms. Brass mentioned to hide everything."

"Quite obshervant, officher," said Silenus. "To cushtomsh, I wash jusht a drunken fool wearing a cloak. And Pan, thinking that I wash shimply up to my typical shenanigansh, bailed me out."

"Aaand the rest is hiiistory," Pan sighed. "It seems we're both fools here, Silenus. I'm the fool for truuusting you, aaand you're the fool for misunderstaaanding whaaat makes music special."

"Oh, get off your high horshe and shtop pretending that I don't have a point!" Silenus snapped. "And that goesh for all of you! Lishten to you lot, thinking that mere shongsh carry any power whatshover. Only Pan'sh Mushic Code hash power! Your shetsh and performanchesh are nothing but nonshenshe poemsh put to pretty shoundsh! Unlessh you're topping the chartsh, they mean nothing to thoshe who aren't pretentioush twatsh!"

Something inside of me just snapped. Silenus was just spouting off a load of rubbish before, but that really hit a nerve. I could actually feel my blood coming to a boil.

"Say that again, you wanker. I dare you," I stated coldly.

"Um, Octy? Maybe you should calm down," said Vinyl nervously.

"I am completely calm," I said.

"I don't think you are, kitten," said Slick Licks.

Silenus chortled. "Oh, and what ish thish? Did I make the toffee-noshed artisht upshet? Have I offended you with the truth, madam?"

"It's not the truth, you bastard!" I screamed. "You aim to pervert something I hold dear by making it something it's not, and you have no regard for whom you hurt in the process! Pan saw you as a lifelong friend, tolerated your tomfoolery, and this is how you repay him?! And don't you dare call him a gullible fool, because he's a lot wiser than you'll ever be!"

"I appreciate your kiiind words, Ms. Melody, but I should still..." Pan began before I cut him off.

"And he's not the only one you hurt," I said, advancing towards Silenus. "You hurt my friends, my family, and me. And for what? So that you could hold us hostage for Pan's Music Code and ruin music for the rest of us?! I will not let that happen!"

Before I could land a punch on him, I felt something grab my tail and yank me out of reach. I turned around and saw that Vinyl was holding me back with her magic.

"Don't do this, Octy," she said sternly. "You're a better pony than that. We all know you are."

"L-let me go!" I shrieked. "He has this coming! I can't just stand here and let him get away with this rubbish!"

"We're not going to do that, Octavia. I can assure you," said Frederick. "However, we shouldn't sink to his level. You of all ponies should know that."

"Ah dunno, Ah kinda wanna deck him in the face mahself," said Fiddlesticks. "Ah think Tavia has the right idea."

"Not helping, Fiddle," Vinyl growled.

Deep down in my heart, I knew they had a point. I shouldn't lose control like this. But after all of the heartache, the frustration, and the stress this mystery has put me through, I have had enough. I'm going to end this once and for all!

"Vinyl, please! Let me do this!" I cried. "Let me go!"

"Not until you calm down," said Vinyl. "If our roles were reversed, you'd be telling me the same thing. Practice what you preach, Tavi."

"Besides, restraining this joker is my job," added Point Dexter, cracking his knuckles. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time, pal."

"You try anything, and I'll make thish wannabe detective a martyr!" Silenus threatened, rearing up on his hind legs. "And if you think I'm— OW!"

No sooner had he drawn himself to full height than he fell before me. As he was sprawled out on the ground, I saw that his leg was wounded; just like I said it was. That is what I'd call a coup de grâce. There's nothing he can do to save himself now.

"Th-thish changesh nothing!" he spat, struggling to get up. "You're all shtill trapped in your little echo chambersh! Your mushic ish obsholete! It won't shurvive unlessh it becomesh practical!"

I am this close to trampling this twat. Music won't survive unless it's used to hurt others? What kind of sick mentality is that?! I raised my hoof and stared down at the mad donkey.

"Wait juuust a moment, Ms. Melody."

I looked up at Pan. He had a serious, somber look on his face.

"There's a waaay to show Silenus the true maaagic of music without hurting him," he said.

"How?" I asked.

Instead of answering, Pan started playing a tune on his panpipes. I recognized it right away. It was the same tune as the first song of Vinyl's set. All of the memories I had about that song washed over me, and I lowered my foreleg.

"W-wait. Why did you shtop?!" Silenus exclaimed. "Don't you wanna end thish?! Claim your victory, you pretentioush whore! Nothing'sh shtopping you!"

"No. Something is stopping me," I said. "That song."

Silenus blinked. "Wh-what? B-but that'sh not a shpell!"

"It doesn't have to be," I said. "You might've heard nothing but nonsense poems in that set, Silenus, but I heard so much more. To me, that song represents how two musicians of very different styles can live together in harmony. Even if one is doing better than the other in the charts, that doesn't matter. We play music not to delude ourselves into being more than we actually are. We play music to entertain others. We play music to become recognized for our craft. And sometimes, we just play music because we want to. All of these reasons are valid. And as long as ponies like me and everypony else at this festival keep playing, music will never die."

Silenus wanted to refute me, but I was through listening to him. As he continued spouting off bollocks, I turned my back to him and walked away.

"Mr. Dexter, Mr. Check. He's all yours," I said.

"Got it, Melody," said Mike.

"Understood, ma'am," said Point Dexter with a salute.

As Mike Check and Point Dexter went over to restrain Silenus, I walked up to Vinyl and the others. Vinyl smiled at me.

"I'm proud of you, Octy," she said. "We all are."

Everypony else nodded in agreement. At that moment, my emotions just overwhelmed me. I wrapped my forelegs around Vinyl and buried my face into her chest, sobbing all the while.

"Shh. It's alright, Octy," Vinyl cooed, rubbing my back as I continued to cry. "It's all over now. We're all gonna be okay."

"I-I know," I whimpered. "I'm sorry I lost control. I didn't mean to..."

"No one's blaming you for that, Tavi-doll," said Sapphire. "We all understand how much this means to you, and how much you've done for us. The important thing is that he won't hurt anypony anymore."

I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I simply continued to weep as Vinyl held me close. I'm pretty sure real detectives don't act like this, but I don't give a toss. I managed to stop a madman from silencing every musician in Equestria, and all of my friends are alive and well. At this moment in time, I cannot ask for anything more.

Encore: Standing Ovation

April 11, 5:30 PM
Lincolt Center
The Bent Trumpet
***

That night, after Silenus was carried off by the police and everything had settled down some, Slick Licks gathered everyone to the Bent Trumpet in order to make a special announcement.

"Fillies and gentlecolts," he said. "I understand that this year's Manehattan Music Festival has had its share of troubles, and that not everypony scheduled to perform got to share their sweet tunes with us. However, in light of this, I have decided to change the schedule around some. You'll still get to hear the performances these fine ponies have worked so hard to put together, so everyone still has their chance to shine in the spotlight!"

This was something of a relief, and everypony else seemed to agree. After a round of applause, Slick Licks held up his hoof to ask for silence.

"But that's not all, folks! Because we've got a special treat to close this year's festival on the fourteenth. And this finale is to celebrate the accomplishments of a sweet kitten named Octavia Melody! Come on up here!"

I, was not expecting that. Although hesitant at first, several ponies finally convinced me to join Slick Licks onstage. When the applause died down, Slick Licks continued.

"It's through this pony's courage in the face of doubt that we're all standing here today, as she has proven that music is an art that will endure throughout the ages," said he. "And to commemorate this, our last performance at this year's Manehattan Music Festival will be an improv jam session starring all of your favorite musicians! 'Cause while we all have our separate sounds that are powerful enough on their own, this festival is about how all of those sounds come together to make something magical."

The audience erupted into loud cheers and applause. Normally, I'd be against this idea. Some genres just don't mix. However, this is a special circumstance. This performance was created to make a statement that every musician has something special to offer. And that's a statement I can get behind.

"Speech, Octy! Speech!" Vinyl cheered.

Oh no. This situation is embarrassing enough as it is; I don't need Vinyl's help to make it worse! Ugh, sod it. It wouldn't be Vinyl if she didn't try to embarrass me.

"Um, I-I don't really know what to say here," I said. "I mean, all I did was stress myself out trying to protect something that's near and dear to me. Honestly, I wouldn't have gotten half as far as I did without the help of my friends."

"You're too modest, Tavia!" Fiddlesticks called out.

"No, Fiddle. It's true," I said with a sigh. "This was, very hard for me to do. I was scared the whole time."

"But you still puuulled through, even in the faaace of doubt," said Pan sagely. "I feel thaaat speaks to your chaaaracter, don't you?"

"Well, I suppose," I said sheepishly, my cheeks starting to feel warm. "But regardless, I shouldn't be the only one up here. It's thanks to everypony who supported me in this mad endeavor that I managed to make it through this ordeal. So, I thank you all with all my heart."

There was another round of applause, and with that, everypony sat down for an early dinner. As soon as I left the stage, I was immediately mobbed by all of my friends.

"Great speech, Octy," said Vinyl. "Although I'm with Fiddle on this one. You're way too modest."

I sighed. "Vinyl, you know as much as I do that I couldn't have pulled this off on my own."

"Yeah, but you still deserve most of the credit, Tavi-doll," said Sapphire Shores. "Even if you were scared like you said, what you did took a lot of guts."

"And all this time I thought it was my fear that kept me going," I said with a chuckle.

"The important thing is that the festival is saved, and it will probably be better than ever," said Frederick.

"You said it, Fred," said Vinyl. "Although there's one thing I don't get. Silenus said he was after the Music Code for years, right? Why did it take him this long to get a plan together?"

"Perhaaaps I caaan answer thaaat."

Pan approached us and made his way into the conversation.

"I thought you said you always trusted Silenus up until he was exposed today," I said.

"I did," said Pan. "However, I do believe he waaas looking for a waaay to maaake me take his side. Mr. Dexter's sound-based weapons were supposed to show me hooow powerful my Music Code could be aaas a weapon."

"Well, that must've backfired big time," said Fiddlesticks.

"Indeed it did," said Pan. "Thaaat is why I sent thaaat letter aaasking for help. I waaanted to prevent Silenus's vision from coming true."

"Except that you didn't know it was Silenus's vision," said Sapphire somberly. "You gonna be okay, Pan?"

"I'll maaanage," said Pan with a shrug. "Silenus might've been a lovable nuisance, buuut he waaas still a nuisance nonetheless."

"Um, Scratch?"

We all turned to see Symphony meekly approaching us with Concerto not far behind. She seemed quite apprehensive.

"What's up, Symphony?" asked Vinyl.

Symphony bit her lip and swallowed. "I-I just wanted to say that after hearing that ruffian donkey say all of those bad things about music, I-I finally understand what your song was trying to say. A-and I resp— I respe-e-e— I..."

"You respect that," said Vinyl, completing Symphony's thought.

"Yes, that," said Symphony, blushing profusely. "B-but don't think this changes anything! Your so-called 'music' is still nothing but noise!"

Vinyl shrugged. "Eh, better than nothing. Thanks, Symphony."

I had to giggle at that. It's very rare to see Symphony swallow her own words.

"Listen, if you just think for yourself and..."

"I am thinking for myself, Mr. Maker. And I'm fine with not being a star. So sorry, but my final answer is no."

My attention was drawn to a conversation happening at a nearby table. Lyra and Bon-Bon were sitting across from Star Maker, who was trying in vain to get Lyra to sign his contract.

"How can you say that, Ms. Heartstrings? Everypony in the world deserves to be a star!" insisted Star Maker.

"But it's not what I want," said Lyra, shaking her head. "Didn't you hear Octavia tell that dock-hole Silenus off today? Some of us just like to play music because we want to, not to become famous. And that's what I want to do with my life, Mr. Maker."

"B-but I..."

"She said no," said Bon-Bon, narrowing her eyes.

Star Maker sighed. "Fine. But if you find yourself desiring stardom, you know where to find me."

He gave Lyra his card and walked off. Lyra looked a Bon-Bon for a moment, tore up the card, and threw it away.

"Well, good to see that Lyra finally got that monkey off her back," said Vinyl.

"Indeed," I concurred. "She might not be the most popular musician, but she is happy with what she has."

"Yeah," said Vinyl. "Hey, speaking of which, I've got some great news, Octy."

"What's that?"

"Point Dexter said I could keep the blueprints for the Bass Cannon."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why did he do that? I thought that was a keepsake from his days in the military."

"Well, it's not like he's gonna use 'em," said Vinyl with a shrug. "Besides, he doesn't want his inventions to be used for anything bad ever again."

"So to avoid this, he left the blueprints in your hooves," I said, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "He must not know you very well."

"Hey, I plan on using this baby in the name of awesomeness, not evil," said Vinyl.

As if that would make it better. Oh well, no point in arguing it, I suppose.

"Hey, Octy," said Beauty Brass, looking around a bit. "I feel like somepony's missing out on all this."

"I find myself in agreement," mused Frederick. "Where's that costumed friend of yours, Octavia? We haven't seen her since that stunt you pulled this morning."

That, actually was a good point. Somehow, and I don't know how, Mare-Do-Well had managed to slip away while we were all distracted. You'd think she'd want to stick around to at least take a bow. After all, she did most of the work protecting us.

"Well, maybe she's just shy," I said with a shrug. "I notice that she has a habit of disappearing when nopony's looking."

"Eh, wherever she is, I'm sure she's doing okay," said Vinyl. "Now, how about we get some grub before your band plays, Tavi?"

I gave Vinyl a dirty look. "It's an ensemble," I corrected.

"Same diff," said Vinyl.

We all got a bit of a laugh out of that, even me. Yeah, I know I said that calling my ensemble a "band" is a pet peeve of mine, but I don't care about that right now. I'm just happy to be having dinner with my friends, and that we're all safe and sound.

***
April 11, 6:35 PM
Lincolt Center
The Whinnyton Maresalis Theater
***

I left dinner early along with the rest of my ensemble to prepare for our big performance tonight. As I got to work setting up my cello, I heard the sound of somepony clapping their hooves behind me. I turned around, and there was the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well.

"I must offer my congratulations, Ms. Melody," she said. "You far exceeded my expectations."

"Yes, well. I hope I never have to do anything like that ever again," I said, turning back to my work. "By the by, why did you disappear on us? You deserve some congratulations yourself."

Mare-Do-Well chuckled. "I was never a pony for medals and recognition, Ms. Melody," said she. "I prefer to let my actions speak for themselves."

I would say that she's being far too modest for somepony who did so much for us, but that would be calling the kettle black.

"So, is that all you wanted to say?" I asked.

"No, there's also this," said Mare-Do-Well. "I wanted to thank you again for making me humble. You showed me that true strength can come from anypony."

I turned to her and tilted my head. "You, didn't know that before?"

"Like I said, I wasn't sure if you could handle the pressure," said Mare-Do-Well, obscuring her eyes with her hat. "But, it seems like you did. Also, you allowed your friend Ms. Brass to help, even though she didn't appear to have much to contribute."

"Well, I trust Beauty Brass," I said. "She might be a bit scatterbrained as well as unable to keep a secret, but I thought it best to hear her out. If it wasn't for her and all of my other friends, I wouldn't have had the nerve to do this at all."

Mare-Do-Well sighed. "Maybe there is strength in numbers, but those are still uncharted waters for me," she said. "Actually, you're not the first pony to tell me that trusting others is helpful."

"I'm not?" I inquired.

"It's a long story," said Mare-Do-Well. "But, from my experience with you and with Ms. Spitfire, I feel like I've learned a lot."

I blinked. "Wait, you know Ms. Spitfire?"

"Again, long story," said Mare-Do-Well. "Should we ever cross paths again, maybe I'll tell you about it."

"OCTY~!"

A telltale boom from Beauty Brass distracted me as the rest of my ensemble made their way onstage.

"Ponies are starting to file in, Octavia," said Parish. "Glad to see you've got a jump on things."

"Right," I said. "I think I'm ready to start enjoying this festival properly."

"I do believe we all are, Octavia," said Frederick. "By the way, were you talking to somepony just now?"

"Yes, actually," I said. "I was talking to..."

I turned around and gestured with my hoof, but Mare-Do-Well had once again disappeared. Maybe she is shy. I can't imagine that she'd just disappear when my back is turned simply to be annoying.

"Talking to whom, Octy?" asked Beauty Brass.

"Never mind, it doesn't matter," I said. "Come, let's get ready. We have a big performance to put on."

With a collective shrug, my ensemble and I got right to work preparing for our contribution to the Manehattan Music Festival. Truth be told, it's very exciting. Not just because this is a prestigious event, but because I feel like I earned this opportunity by defending what I love. It's been quite a journey, and I am glad it's over.

And with that, I draw my story to a close. Thank you for listening, and like I said before, I'd prefer it if most of what I have told you is kept off the record. I don't need any tabloids hounding me about what happened here. Now, if you'll excuse me, Slick Licks is about to introduce my ensemble. I'll leave you with this to consider: If you have something worth fighting for, no amount of fear or worry can petrify you. I suppose that's a little something I took away from this mess. Mmm, better than nothing, I guess.

"Melody, you're on in five!"

And that's my cue. As we say on K-COLT Radio, farewell, and we'll see you next time.

***
The Silent Dirge
~
End