B.D: Memoirs of a Rogue

Chapters

Chapter III: Different Perspectives
Chapter IV: Bubble Broken
Chapter V: Proposition
Chapter VI: Jailbreak
Chapter VII: Cloven Hoof
Chapter I: Violet
Chapter II: Breaking and Entering

Chapter III: Different Perspectives

Chapter III

DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVES

I don't quite remember the last time I had a day off.

Once I worked to keep myself and others alive each day, it didn't really cross my mind. The concept of not doing something seemed kind of, well, useless, as if I was wasting my time.

The change to an outside contract was foreign to me, too. Like stepping out of a humble life into a much larger, scarier world. Maybe I was overreacting, but weren't we supposed to be a team, making it through the city our own way, without any outside help? I wasn't sure I liked this change of pace.

* * *

"Soooo... what? Are you just gonna sit there the whole day?" Cinders asked from behind her papers.

"I don't have anything to do, though," I replied, laying sprawled out on my bed in the corner. "You told me yourself, 'it's your day off'."

I moaned with frustration into my pillow. "I'm booorrred."

"Crow, stop acting like such a filly."

"But I am a filly."

I heard Cinders sigh under her breath, taking a few seconds before responding. "There's a big city outside, Crow. It's called Pastur. You can't tell me that in the whole city there isn't anything better you could be doing right now."

"Can't think anything off the top of my head."

"Well, then," Cinders stated, "If you aren't going to do anything by yourself, I'll make you. I have important documents to write up, and you're distracting me, so I'm commanding you to leave. Now."

I let out another moan, raising my head from the pillow.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I may be your friend, but I'm also your employer, and unlike yourself, I have work to do. So scoot."

There was no reason to argue. I brought myself sleepily to the floor, and trotted out of the room with a frown.

"If you can't find anything to do, I hear there's an execution going on in the afternoon," she shouted from behind me.

"Uh, thanks, I'd rather not," I replied quickly, getting out of talking distance to stop any pursuit on the subject. I didn't want to hear her justify anypony watching it.

I stepped outside onto the road, my eyes adjusting to the outside after a long rest. There was a terrible stench in the air, and I couldn't think why. A stallion trotted past me with his muzzle curled in disgust.

I trotted to the road, thinking about where I wanted to go. It was near impossible, my attention drifting off from the foul smell. I looked towards the back-alleys I was passing by. Maybe someone threw out a load of dirty laundry or something?

A stray rock tripped me unaware and rolled me onto the pavement. I yelled in shock as my hoof hit my face.

The smell became worse. Before standing up, I pulled the hoof in, giving it a sniff.

Is that horrible smell coming from....me?

The conclusion became evident as a pegasus trotted passed me, and muttered "What in the magi is that stench?" as she passed close by, rudely ignoring my disposition.

I got up from the road, luckily bearing little more than shock after the fall. I felt embarrassed about the smell, lingering around me like a wet dog.

It sort of make sense, though. The last time I washed was a good week or so ago.

Well, hey! I have something to do.

I headed off in the direction of the reservoir, the best place for an abundant water supply in the middle of the city. Sure, it was cold, and it may or may not have been connected to the city's water supply, but where else was a poor young city pony supposed to go to clean herself?

* * *

I reached the outside of the reservoir about half an hour later. It was a big, circular building made of some sort of smooth stone with a shiny surface to keep the water in. Both it and the aqueducts were built differently from the surrounding structures. They were made of different materials compared to the much rougher rock used in Pastur houses, and were crafted with intricate chiselled details at every few paces.

From what I could tell, they looked similar to the paintings and artwork I'd seen of the pegasus republics' towns and cities. They were quite common in the wealthier homes.

There was a long staircase, leading to the top where the water was. The entrance would usually be protected by a couple of spear-wielding guards, but the posts were empty. I'd heard through months of background conversations that the guards thought it was the worst post in the whole city, seeing it as utterly pointless. I assumed they cut off their normal shift for a break.

I ascended the perilous steps cautiously, without the aid of a banister on the side on small, thin steps. It took a while before I reached the top, and it wasn't fun. The hot day and physical exertion left me quite exhausted by the end of it.

It would've been downright silly to jump into the reservoir itself; my opportunities to learn how to swim prior were far and few, and the water in the basin went down far too deep for me. Instead, I would always take the considerably safer option of washing in one of the aqueducts splintering off of the main reservoir. The body of the aqueduct I chose was grooved in a sort of semicircle, where the water would flow through at much shallower depths, letting me lay in it like a bath tub.

I took my jacket off, placed it to one dry side, and slid with difficulty into the water. At first, the ghastly temperature made it nigh impossible to breathe. When a couple of minutes had past, it was only 'stupidly' cold.

I always hated washing, if not for the temperature, then for the time I had to spend in there to get myself clean. It had to be done, though. On the bright side, at least my jacket wasn't in need of cleaning. It was a bit muddy by the legs, but nothing unpleasant.

I stayed there for a while, slowly rinsing away the dirt. If I was bored back at the boarding house, this didn't seem any better. Eventually, I could barely lift a leg, a or hoof in the cold, my limbs frozen. It felt like hours later when the sound of splashing presented itself from afar. At first I didn't care, but as the sound grew louder and closer, I lifted my head up from the aqueduct and gazed in the direction of the sound.

A wave of bone chilling water crashed on my face, drenching me.

I raised a hoof to my mouth, spluttering as some of the water went the wrong way. The change in my balance almost caused the rest of me to slide straight into the water too, if I hadn't quickly placed my hoof back on the side.

My eyes darted to direction where the water came from. The culprit? None other than Jemrock, the younger foals tagging behind him.

"Sorry Crow," Jemrock shouted as he galloped over, splashing yet more water into my face. "Didn't see you there!"

I tried screaming back at him, but the additional water resulted in me uttering little more than a choked whinny.

"Hey everypony, say hi to Crow," Jemrock said.

"Hey, Crow!" the foals replied.

"Say Crow, are you alright?" Jemrock asked.

I glared at him, barely recovering the ability to speak. "Why... a-...you...here?"

"We're out paddling, of course! I finished up with the list Smokey Cinders gave me super quick, so she said I should send these guys out for a quick exercise! So, what's up? I would've sworn you were asleep when I left." His grin turned into a half-frown, and he gave a worried look. "You didn't get shouted at for waking up late, did you?"

"No, I wa-," I said, stopping to clear my throat with a few coughs. "I was working through the night, Cinders gave me the day off."

"Oh wow, congratulations! You must've worked really hard or something," Jem said. He pulled in closer towards me, hiding his mouth from the foals. "By the way. Between you and me, I think you should put some clothes on. You know, for the kids and all."

I sighed. Public indecency never really came to mind when I was washing myself on the top of a building that only a pegasi could possibly see me from. Then again, Jem was somehow up here, and I didn't really like the idea of prolonged exposure in the cold water. I'd probably had long enough in, anyway.

"Alright. Could you lend me a hoof up?" I asked, my numbed limbs too frozen to work by themselves.

"Sure, no problem," Jem responded, lowering himself down. I grappled my front hooves over his back, and he lifted himself up again, giving me a boost to stand upright.

"Uh... you wouldn't mind helping me fit my clothes on again, would you?" I asked sheepishly.

Jem nodded, and lifted my jacket from the floor with his magic, fitting me into it perfectly.

"So, while you're up here..." he started, "...wanna come and join the game we're playing? It's real fun."

"What's that?"

"We're playing a round of 'Run-around-in-places-you-shouldn't-be-and-not-get-caught-by-angry-guards.' It's a classic!"

Really well thought out name there.

"How did you get up here in the first place? The guards don't go on break that often."

"That was easy," Jem said, nodding a hoof. "We just told them a filly was in the market stealing bread. They ran off before I could say another word."

"Lovely. I wonder where you got that idea from," I huffed.

"So, you gonna join in?" Jem repeated.

"Hm. I'll think about it."

"Oh, okay," Jem chirped, turning around to face the foals. "Alrighty, first one to the bottom gets to pick where we go next. Let's go, full speed ahead! Ah ah, no wings allowed, Moonfly."

I heard a childish "Aww...", and watched them splash down the aqueduct from where they'd come from before, laughing and playing with each other as they ran. The passers-by down below where most likely just as drenched as I'd been, and doubly as confused. Jem may not have been the smartest pony, but he knew how to have fun.

Oh, what the hell.

I tore down the aqueduct, my own speed outmatching the entire bunch of them with ease. It took mere moments before I'd caught up with them. When I reached Jem, I levelled myself with his pace, held my breath, ducked my head under the water and bolted it straight towards him, showering a mess of water over him from head to hoof. He stopped to splutter, and I turned back towards him giggling.

"That's what you get when you splash me!"

"Oh yeah?" Jem shouted back to me. "When I catch you, you're gonna be soaked! Moonfly? Forget all that wing-stuff. Fly over and catch. That. Crow!"

* * *

We played Jem's strangely-named games with activities closer to trespassing than anything else right through the day. On the way back, Jem serenaded us with the many funny stories he told us. He was a bit older than me, and he knew his parents and family life before the orphanage much more than I knew mine. I'd never known what family life was like, and the way he described it was fascinating. A world I'd never experienced, full of all kinds of fun.

"...speaking of pets, there's a reason we never left the cat without supervision..."

The foals in our company asked questions to Jem and he'd play along, answering them all. They seemed to get on great, and we giggled along to his rambling and jokes as we trotted across the city.

Jem didn't receive the attention of everypony there, though. As the blue stallion talked through a case involving his feline's actions towards pedestrians, somepony gave me a nudge on the leg. I turned to face one of the fillies, a unicorn named Star Eyes. I smiled, and asked, "What's up?"

"It-it's about Barn Breaker," she sniggered. "He told me to tell you something."

"What's that?"

"He's got a crush on you."

"Did not!" Breaker shouted, overhearing the two of us. Star Eyes pranced over to Moonfly, giving her a celebratory hoof-bump.

I didn't know how to act, staying silent. I was shocked the whole thing hadn't already blown over, thinking it started and finished the day before.

It was safe to say that I didn't understand foals.

"Oh yeah?" said a colt close by Breaker, "Well how about your crush on Ying?"

"That's a lie!"

"Sure ain't."

"Prove it!"

The argument dissolved into petty squabbling surprisingly fast. I sped up to Jem, at the front.

"Uh, Jem, the foals?"

He didn't appear fazed, walking on as he guided the group.

"Huh? Oh, right," he said, having looked at the fight behind him. "Come on, guys! Let's settle down."

The foals continued throwing insult and comeback at one another, not really paying attention to Jem at all.

"Heh, don't worry about it, Crow," Jem grinned. "Give 'em a couple of minutes, and they'll be back to normal."

"Right," I said, hoping he knew what he was talking about.

We arrived at the hideout twenty minutes later. The foals had worn themselves out arguing over the trip, but my new headache told me that it wasn't without consequence.

We were greeted in by Mrs Goldheart, who let us in the front door without hesitation. Cinders gave a warm "Hey," to Jem and me as we entered, and we gave thanks in response. Yingling was on his seat by Cinders, his back legs placed casually on the meeting table.

Aren't we missing somepony?

"So Crow, how was the day off? Were you as bored as you claimed earlier?" Cinders asked, smirking cheekily.

"Well... no, I guess not, I found Jem out by the aqueduct, and we galloped around for a couple of hours with the foals," I said, placing a hoof over my chin. "Buuut if I hadn't found him by coincidence in the first place, I bet I wouldn't have half as much fun. It wasn't as much the city, more the ponies I already kne—"

"That's enough, Crow. Point is, you enjoyed yourself, and that's great. Like I said, you deserve it. Don't worry about food either. I got Ying to buy us a bunch with the bits he and Parable made today. I'm thinking we all have a tasty fruit salad, my treat."

"Fruit salad? Mm, mmm, that sounds de-lish! Thanks, Ying," Jem exclaimed.

"Hm," Yingling grunted, facing down at the table without even a look at Jem.

So, Yingling’s in a great mood today.

Jem and the foals placed themselves by the beds, and Cinders got back to her work. I walked up to her.

"Cinders, why isn't Parable here?" I asked.

"Why don't you ask Ying? He was with her the whole day," Cinders replied, barely looking up from her work.

She was always like this. Kind one moment, too busy the next. I walked up to Ying by the side of his chair, clearing my voice.

"Yingling?" I asked.

"What."

"Uh, you don't know where Parable is, do you?"

"Yeah. She stayed behind."

Why is he being so vague?

"Why'd she stay back?" I asked suspiciously.

A voice at the back of the table switched my attention.

"Hey Crow, you wouldn't mind fetching her, would you?" Cinders asked.

"Why me? Isn't Parable Ying's partner?"

Cinders glared at me from across the table. Ying lowered his head down further by the side of me as Cinders began to speak.

"I asked you to do it, not Ying. So when you're ready, could you go out and bring Parable back, please?"

"That doesn't make any sense, though!" I said, raising my voice.

It didn't matter—Cinders wasn't taking any further notice, lowering her gaze to the papers she was working on. I was confused more than angry. I could've protested further, but I didn't seem to have a choice. "Well, can anypony be a bit more specific on where she actually is, if I'm about to go and find her then?"

Yingling spoke up again.

"Sure. We were at the farmhouses down in Westhoof when we split up. She said she wasn't ready to leave, so she's gonna be around there."

"Thanks," I spat, and turned around to leave. If I have to, I thought, I'd rather do it sooner than later.

* * *

What happened to Parable? Is she alright?

The idea of anypony staying behind after work seemed off. Her, especially. She didn't seem to be the type to wonder out alone.

At least I could finally talk to her. She could stay silent in a meeting for as long as she wanted, but she couldn't keep quiet one-to-one.

I was at Westhoof in half an hour, a place which, in many respects, was no shining example of Pastur. It featured only a touch of improvement on where we lived at best. The roads were just as rough and worn, with the same grotty sewer grates, and a lack of proper lighting. It was a 'housing' district of Pastur, and the ugly houses were more numerous than they were back at the boarding house. Trying to live there with the level of overcrowding would be a horrible ordeal. The only real advantage was the much shorter distance to the market.

It got better as it went on, though. Being almost outside of the city, Westhoof progressively became more rural, spreading out the buildings and giving a breath of fresh air to the stuffiness that presided throughout most of the city. It was a relief to see the countryside for once.

The smell of the countryside, however, was another matter. One I'd rather not get into, for one manure-scented reason or another.

I wandered about the district aimlessly trying to spot the young pale blue mare. I was out there for a while, and I'd seen nothing of her, the passing adults taking little to no notice of me, their manes covered by straw hats.

As I wandered through the one part of the district, I heard a voice from a distance away.

It was quiet, too quiet for me to make out individual words. I trotted in its direction, and soon, the voice turned into a song.

"Valleys green, wherein fillies seen,

Make merry of, the plants of old.

Passion flows, with it love can grow,

Beside the stems, of the plants of old."

The voice continued, ringing sweetly throughout the district as I searched for the source, getting closer and closer. It wasn't long before I spotted her navy blue mane perched above a balcony of one of the farmhouses. I made my way up to her quietly, trying not to interrupt her.

"See them, the faces joyful,

Hear them, the voices pure,

Feel them, emotions soaring,"

I tried to be as polite as I could in drawing her attention.

"Ahem. excuse me?"

"See them, a cursed world's cu-," she jumped turning around. "Oh! Sorry Violet, I didn't know you were here,"

"I didn't get a chance to announce myself. Your singing's amazing, Parable."

"That's very kind of you."

She paused for a moment, taking her hooves off the banister.

"You came here to get me, not Ying?"

"Um, yes," I replied.

I bet she knows what's going on with him.

"Why didn't you come back with him?"

She paused. "It was sort of a misunderstanding. He thought the reason I didn't go back with him was because I don't like him."

"Oh!"

"Yeah," she hummed, her green eyes sparkling. "But... I didn't come back for another reason. There's something wrong, and it's been bugging me, so I came up here to get some space to myself."

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Well... you know Jemrock?" She asked.

I nodded my head, urging her on.

"I think, I think he's not the right influence for the foals to be under. He's always so reckless, so unsafe... he could end up hurting one them some day."

Jem irresponsible? I could see the issue. Then again, he wasn't really that bad at taking care of the foals. They seemed to be having a lot of fun a few hours before, without a problem. I shook my head at her. "That's it? Parable, Jem is great with them. It's really nothing to worry about."

"I'm not sure, Violet. He was galloping with them up on the aqueduct today, and it's so high up and dangerous. I don't think we should allow him to be with the foals if he's going to be so... uncaring."

"How do you know they were on the aqueduct?"

"Well... I was watching them, of course! It's hard to miss such a loud noise as them splashing about up there. I could barely make out any faces, but I knew it was him. He really shouldn't have been up there in the first place."

"So if it isn't Jem who takes care of the fillies and colts on an almost day to day business, who should it be? It's a ton of work, you know."

"Well, I was thinking... I should do it."

I tried not to cringe. "Like I said, Jem's doing a perfect job out there. He's taking on a big responsibility keeping control of the foals, and Parable... I don't think you could handle it."

I felt certain that the shy young mare I'd seen at the meeting table wouldn't have it in her to do it. Maybe I was being overprotective, but Jem had done mostly good work with the foals. He may have had his faults, but he was put there for a reason.

"You're not jealous of him or something, are you?"

The young mare faltered a little, keeping her silence. She drooped her head to hoof-level. "Maybe."

I was slightly startled upon confirmation. "Why?"

"I care for the foals a whole lot. I really, really care for them," she said. A single tear lay on her face, breaking off into a fork down her fur. "They didn't get an easy life, just like us. They'll grow up, and they'll be like us, stealing and robbing. I hate it. Why can't they have a normal life?"

"What?"

She sighed. "I want to help them. I want to show them that being kind is so much better, and that they shouldn't be like us when they grow up. They should get real jobs, and live real lives. Jem won't teach that. He'll just run around, and play with them, and at some point, one of them will get really hurt, or something. Violet, if any of them got hurt, or caught... I don't know what I'd do. I want them to have a future, far away from here."

I wasn't sure how to react. She seemed to be sincere about what she was saying.

"I, Uh, Parable," I started shakily. "I'm not sure that what you've said is going to happen or not. In my honest opinion, living up here, it seems... unlikely." I stopped, seeing her frown deepen as I said my piece. "But if you really, really want to take care of the foals, and it sounds like you do, I could try mentioning it to Cinders when we get back."

"You... you would?" she asked.

"I mean, sure. Why not?"

"Oh, thank you!" she cried, closing up and hugging me.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!"

"Uh, heh, no problem," I chuckled, moving my head up and over her hooves. If she was any stronger she'd have squeezed me to death.

* * *

The trip back to the hideout felt longer than the one from it. I didn't want to let down the pony following me, the potential consequences haunting me as we journeyed past rural Westhoof and through the inner city. I tried erasing it from my mind, with the prospect of a delicious meal for the both of us once we returned. It wasn't that I didn't think Cinders would listen to me, but that she'd never changed her plans before. Cinders organised us as she saw fit, and she usually did it well. There was no good reason to go against it.

We were let in and found ourselves back at the room, I was pleasantly surprised that at least one of my wishes had been fulfilled. A big, shiny dessert plate at the centre of the table held a cornucopia of colourful fruits on display. Cinders greeted us with a smile.

"Welcome back. Now that we're all here, we can finally eat! Jem, Parable, you two can help serve the foals."

"Uh, Cinders? A word, please?"

She agreed, and I pulled Cinders to one side while the rest of the group started feasting on the plates' contents.

"Well speak up, Violet," she insisted. "You're not allergic, are you?"

"No, it's not that," I chuckled. "It's about Parable."

"You talked to her about why she stayed behind?"

"..Sort of," I replied. "She wanted me to ask you something."

"Go on."

"She wanted me to ask you if she and Jem can switch jobs."

"Hmm..." she paused for as second in though. "Yeah, that's fine,"

I partially recoiled at her answer. "That's it?"

"Sure. As long as Jem doesn't mind doing it too, I'm all up for them swapping. I'll be able to check on their progress, and if it's better, they can keep that way."

"Huh." I said. "Sorry, I didn't think you'd take it like that at all, really."

"No one's ever asked before," Cinders chuckled. "You needn't have such a negative outlook on what I'm gonna say before I say it, Crow."

I nodded to Cinders, and she broke off to the table. I relayed the message onto Parable.

"That's.... all?" she uttered, mouth agape.

"That's what she told me."

"Jemrock?" Parable shouted across the room, catching the stallion's attention.

"Hey Parable! What's up?" Jem shouted, not minding the conversation spanning across the entire room.

"I need to ask you something."

"I'm all ears!"

"Well, okay..." Parable muttered. "Would you mind if, uh, I take care of the foals for a bit? So we swap jobs?"

"Sure!" he replied, walking up to her. "That sounds like an awesome idea! When do we start?"

"Start? Well, I was thinking we could start tommo-"

"HOLD UP!" an furious-looking Yingling shouted, standing up from his chair. He drew the eyes of everypony in the room, making a short silence for even the foals.

"Why am I not included here? She's my partner, and I should get at least a say in this."

Cinders looked reproachfully towards him.

"Why would you get a say in this? It's their decision, not yours."

"Because... because this is my partner we're talking about, and I say I don't want this change, it's fine the way it is."

Parable narrowed her eyes at him.

"Well, I vote for a change."

"If Parry really wants to change, why stop her? I'll vote for change," Jem said.

"That's a two-to-one vote 'for', Ying," Cinders said, with a grin. "I doubt you'll get any more on your side. I don't know what game you're playing, but I'd advise you quit it."

Yingling turned to me, and I slanted an eyebrow back.

He isn't going to try to get me on his side, is he?

He didn't, and instead grumbled to himself as he stomped over to the other side of the room, pushing the foals out of the way. He threw himself on his bed without uttering a single word.

Awkward silence followed briefly, interrupted by Jem.

"Whelp... how about we get eating? No use crying over spilt pride."

* * *

What's Ying's deal?

Dinner was a well needed break, from the drama that I still didn't fully understand, though there was no need to dwell on it. The dinner was certainly above average, some of the fruit as far as being freshly picked. The portions were a bit bigger than the day before, making it all the more impressive. Some of that may have had something to do with Ying's portion, which he didn't make any effort to take. If he wasn't going to have it, why leave it to waste?

The table wasn't cleared for the meeting, the only tableware left being the dessert plate. We sat down in our places as usual, where Ying eventually joined us after persuasion from Cinders. He was given a choice to either forget about it, or get lost. Ying wasn't stupid, and soon after he re-joined us at the meeting table.

"Let's get straight to the point, shall we?" Cinders said, avoiding her usual routine of a progress report to start the meeting off. "Due to the change in schedules, we're gonna have to mix things up a bit. Jem and Ying, you'll be over in Crystal district tomorrow. I'll need you to teach him the ropes, Ying. No more stupid outbreaks."

Yingling muttered something that sounded like "Sure," under his breath.

"Parable? Since you've taken over from Jem, I'd usually want you to do his normal line of work, but if you're going to take care of these foals, I need to make sure that you're capable. You can spend the day off with 'em. I'm sure Jem can help out with any questions."

"O-of course," she said, beaming.

"Crow, you'll be doing Jem's work for the day, as well as some added extras. It's all on this list," Cinders said, passing a piece of paper to me. "You can read, right?"

"I'm okay, as long as you haven't put any extra-long words in there," I said, grinning. Since we never had a proper teacher, asking whether we could read was standard procedure, in case somepony didn't know. I'd been getting some help from Mrs Goldheart earlier in the year, and was quite pleased with my progress thus far.

"Alright then. There's... something else that I'd like to show you, Violet. Thought you might be interested."

She pushed a large collection of papers from her part of the table to mine, named 'The Pastur Press'.

"A newspaper? That's asking a bit much, don't you think?" I chuckled.

"Not the whole thing, just the page I've given you. Start reading from the bottom segment."

"Um... okay, then," I said, not really sure what she was talking about. "City... deaths. June 7th," I muttered. "Mrs Elizahoof Rarestrike, aged thirty, passed away due to unfortunate accident. We give our condolences to her husband, one Gillard— "

"Next one, Crow."

"Alright. June 8th. One Mr Warding Brittlebush, aged fifty four, found dead, stabbed in his home. A stallion of strong character and voice, the former director of monee-tary affairs shall be dearly missed for his revo-rev...something edicts concerning the economic well-being of all ponies in Pastur. More on page 10," I looked back at her. "Why is this interesting to me?"

"It's June 8th today, Crow. You know who you robbed yesterday? Mr Warding Brittlebush."

"...How do you know that?"

She reached behind her chair, aiming for a couple of low shelves hidden from my view. She emerged a moment later, with the diary I stole the night before.

"Our client hasn't reported for the diary yet, so I did a bit of light reading. He was a popular pony, you know."

I gasped, momentarily frozen as it hit me.

"You don't think... somepony else broke in?"

"I don't think there's any other explanation," she replied. "Brittlebush wasn't very popular with some folks, that I know. Once you'd burst in, the pony who did it must've used the same way you did to get in and finish him off."

"That's crazy..."

The thought of a pony so I'd heard so recently being dead was a strange concept.

Cinders looked on, with a serious expression. "Thought you'd find it interesting. I think I've run through everything I needed to. Meeting dismissed."

We abandoned the table, save for Cinders, who had some extra papers to fill. It occurred to me how much she had been writing that day. Cinders was a busy mare. Whatever she was doing, it was going to be important for us.

I wasn't sure how to process the new info. Had somepony really gone and killed him through my very own route? If so, I had reason to feel some kind of guilt about it.

Then again, I didn't do it. I had nothing to do with it, in fact. My actions may have been criminal, but not that kind of criminal. I was no murderer, after all.

I laid back on my bed, trying to forget about the whole thing. It'd been a weird day overall. A nice change, having a day off.

I kind of hoped that I wouldn't have another one anytime soon though. Work, weirdly enough, was a lot less stressful than having to deal with my friends problems, and a great deal more simple.

Chapter IV: Bubble Broken

Chapter IV

BUBBLE BROKEN

I remember the following events as painfully as a kick to the stomach.

The new jobs were quite different from my usual line of work. Most of it was based on sending letters to ponies in dark suits, overhearing guards talking in the market, that sort of thing. There were no bits involved on it, just information. On the off days I was sent sneaking out for a bit of food now and then, which I was a lot happier doing. The new tasks were just too... strange for me.

* * *

I opened my eyes, and turned to my jacket hung up by a closed window, with a list peeking out of the side pocket. I wasn't surprised in the slightest. I put it there in the first place. The note detailed the tasks that Cinders told me to do the day before.

The room wasn't empty when I woke up. Yingling was asleep as quiet as a colt, with Jem sitting on the table, swinging his legs playfully. I lifted myself up, a worrying squeak emerging from the mattress.

"Morning Crow," Jem said. "Ying sure takes a while to get up, huh?"

"Huh, yeah," I yawned.

It was predictable that Parable and the foals weren't around, as she'd normally start a morning walk with the foals.

"Where's Cinders?" I asked.

"She didn't say, but I think she went out about... thirty, forty minutes ago? She was in a hurry."

"Weird," I muttered.

"Yeah. On the bright side, her leg must have totally healed up by now."

I nodded, and slid off the bed. She hadn't said anything the day before about it, or if her leg was strong enough to get out the room. Having already positioned my jacket to make it easy to wear, I didn't need Jem to help me this time. I was ready to work within the minute, and turned to the blue unicorn with my front hoof held up to him.

"I need to get on with this list. Bye, Jem."

"See you soon, Crow!"

I turned and heard a loud slam from the entrance to the building. An eyebrow raised, I opened the door into the hallway, where none other than Cinders rushed up in front, almost tackling me to the floor.

"Woah, there!"

The mare was almost as startled as I was.

"Sorry, Crow, didn't see you there! You're just the pony I need to talk to right now."

"It's nice to see you up and galloping again."

"Thanks," Cinders said quickly. "I have a change in schedule. We've got another contract, and it's for you."

She trotted briskly to the table, nipping the list from my side pocket as she went. After dropping the note on one side of the table, she pulled out a much more serious-looking document from her own pocket, written in block print.

"Does this mean I have to wait until midnight again?" I sighed. Accompanying Jem all day like I'd done before would be a lot less fun with Ying around.

"No, actually," she said. "I suppose you'd prefer me to read it?"

"Yes please."

"I'm sorry about the timing of this," she started, "I literally just got it straight from the client. The... short of it, is he's asked you to get a special necklace from in the market smithy. It's... stored in a display case, above his bed. The client told me that the blacksmith actually sleeps in his own shop at night, so it'd be much safer for you to go while he's at work selling his wares outside."

A day job was most likely difficult to pull off, but the alternative wasn't any better. Doing it in the day could be a plus—I had plenty of experience with using the noise and clutter the crowds made to my advantage.

"So, go to the market, break into the shop, take the necklace and run. Got it."

She put a hoof up to stop me from trotting out.

"Easy, donkey. You don't think you're going to be able break into a display case with force, do you?"

"Well, breaking into things has worked before, so.... yes?" I smirked.

"Not this time it won't. The client himself told us it was 'pony-proof'." Cinders walked passed me into the room, towards where she normally sat. She rummaged through her shelves, bringing out a small wooden box.

She opened it, revealing a few pieces of thin, bent pieces of metal. They reminded me of hair clips that some of the higher class mares would use, only uglier.

"You'll need a couple of these if you're thinking of getting into the case."

"What are they?"

"These, Crow, are lock-picks. Designer-made to 'pick' any 'lock' the user requires. I'm actually quite surprised you haven't had use of them earlier."

"Huh. I can see where that might have come in use a bit earlier," I muttered.

Cinders tilted her head. "Hmm. Shame, that."

"So... How do these work?"

"It's not too hard," she replied. "You have to place it into the lock you want open. You sort of have to twiddle it around until the lock clicks, and you've picked it. Tell you what, if we can ask Mrs Goldheart, I bet she has some old locks that we can practise on about the house."

I knew what I had to do.

"Uh, Mrs Goldheeeaaarrt...?"

* * *

Getting a lesson on how to open doors without a key was undoubtedly useful in my line of work. It was crazy that throughout my entire life as a thief, I'd never learnt that such a useful tool existed. My job was always stealing food from stalls, so I never had to open a lock without a key.

It didn't take long before we found an old empty safe box that she kept in the cupboard. Admittedly, asking an adult for lock-picking material was hard to do while sounding perfectly innocent. Cinders cut me off before I said something stupid, asking instead if we could look through the cupboards for some extra dishes.

Lock-picking did not come to me naturally. It took what seemed like hours to figure out how to not fumble the pick, and another long stretch of time before I opened the box. Cinders said her congratulations, but I wasn't wholly sure she meant them. She wanted me to try another couple of times, and I finished, a bit quicker each time I succeeded.

"I think you're ready, Crow. The case might not be an old lockbox, but I bet it isn't anything like a safe."

"I hope you're right."

"Of course I am," she laughed, shrugging off my concern. "These aren't specialised locks we're dealing with here. This blacksmith won't have anything you can't handle. Now, run off and get me a necklace, woud'ya?"

I nodded, leaving the boarding house soon after with a couple of the lock-picks held in my side pocket. I was soon on the road, made confident by Cinder's help.

The market was full of life when I arrived. Vendors selling their wares, customers haggling their tails off for a bargain. The guards were back to normal after the incident involving Mr Pebbles, letting me blend incognito with the crowd. I had plenty of time to navigate the market. I was quite small, so I had to burrow under ponies legs and simply hope not to get stamped on. The smithy wasn't a shop that I'd usually go to, and in the crowded plaza, I was basically clueless about its location. I needed to search for it.

I laced through the crowd in a haphazard fashion, knocking into the legs of other ponies without really meaning to. One stumble was into a fancy polished boot. I looked at the owner, who returned a glare.

"Sorry," I muttered, recovering my balance.

"Sorry?" The plump stallion cried out dramatically. "My dear, do you not know who you foalishly frictioned with that preposterous red mane of yours?"

He clopped his hooves in front of me in a cold manner.

"Mitley! I require my introduction, tout suite."

A much younger and seemingly frightened stallion came out from beside him, about the same age as me.

"M-my apologies, sir! Introducing the one and only Lord of Internal Affairs Haberdash Duckat."

I stood frozen for a moment, not sure how to react against the pompous twit.

"Well?" He asked, apparently waiting for me to do something.

"Um... sorry, Mr Duckat?" I responded.

"Never in all my... Mitley! Did you not hear the very atrocity this child has begun to entail without even a proper greeting to a stallion of my magnitude?"

"Uh... n-no," the young stallion began, and was given a darting glare by the Lord. "I mean yes! Yes, I agree completely."

The older stallion huffed. "Mitley, make a note of this foal's name. The authorities shall have their very tails cut from their hinds if insolence such as this goes unpunished."

"Of course," Mitley said, turning to me with a notepad, his horn glowing. "N-name, please?"

Yeah, right. Like I'm going to say that.

I looked around for a fake title, eventually finding myself looking at the exotic fruit stall.

It was perfect.

"Pomelo... Cherry," I replied, masking my lie with a straight face.

The young stallion scribbled the name down, clearly unaware.

"Got it, sir."

"Very good, Mitley, and as for you," he roared, shoving a hoof in my face, "you can expect a ripe sentence for your actions. Hah! Write that one down, Mitley. A 'ripe' sentence for Miss 'Cherry'. Yes.... now run along, play with your friends or what-not before the inevitable. Mitley!"

The stallion called the nervous wreck to his side, making his way to somepony’s stall. As it turned out, it was same one I'd had such difficulty in finding.

"I believe you have a certain ceremonial rapier that I ordered ready, do you not?"

The fat aristocrat trotted to the stall, where a muscle-bound stallion was hammering away at an anvil. The sound of steel hitting iron echoed off the surrounding walls. In front of him stood a display, holding all sorts of metalwork. Farming equipment, horseshoes, sabres and the rest on one side, while an assortment of jewels and jewellery were placed on the other. The stallion was fixing up what looked to be a spearhead, as customers flocked around to examine the wares on his stall. A few gossip-mares had also crowded around, gawking at his physique.

Behind him was my target entrance, the door to the smithy swung out, with the inside of the shop only barely visible. Of course, there was the problem of him being right outside it. I guessed that it'd be foalish trying to sneak in that way, thinking he wouldn't notice, because even if he didn't, the crowd certainly would.

I committed to finding another way in, without distracting him from his business.

Looking to the side of the oblong structure, there did seem to be an alleyway. I broke away from the crowd into it, concealing myself at every opportunity. The coal coloured walls surrounding the building made it look more grim than it actually was. They were the victims of smoke from the smithy's furnace, bellowing away like a steam-engine on overdrive.

There was, to my relief, a back entrance in the alleyway. It was grottier than the fancy oak one out front, but I didn't feel the need to be fussy.

Time to break out the new weapon.

I took out a pick from my side, and placed it carefully into the lock, making sure to, as Cinders put it, "Not break the damn thing before you even get started." I made sure the lock was almost perfectly aligned with the pick before clicking it in.

I rotated the small piece of miracle metal a few times in the lock. Nothing interesting happened. This, I was taught, was normal procedure. The pick had to take the shape of the key to imitate it, bending it in place to unlock things that would be near impossible to open without the key. It just took time.

I turned it one way. Maybe to the left? It was incredibly difficult to see what I was doing. I spent a good fifteen minutes on the thing before I heard a something. There was a sharp click from the inside. I took it as the door unlocking, and used a hoof open it, the door gliding silently towards me as I did so.

The smithy was definitely more of a house than a shop. There was a dust-ridden bed along with counters, a small table stretching from the wall, a bookcase, and several shelves peering out from the other side of the room where the main entrance was. I was too small to see out of the windows without standing on something, as luck had it, making me practically invisible to the ponies outside. It was only me, and the necklace.

Light shined from the corner of my eyes. It was the reflection from the display case, pinned up on the wall, showing off the copper necklace inside.

This is my target?

It didn't look as glamorous as I imagined. The only thing of interest I could make out was a closed locket hanging from the bottom. Basic colour knowledge told me it was copper, the same sort of metal that a couple of pans hung up in Mrs Goldheart's kitchen were made of. I wasn't really sure how valuable it actually was (I'd never asked), but it seemed too commonplace to be expensive.

The case was shielded by a varnished wooden panel at the bottom, and underneath it was the lock. It looked bulkier than the others, built out at the bottom as if there was some kind of extra storage space the size of a quill. I put a mental note to ask Cinders about it afterwards.

I jumped up onto the bed to level myself, and began to try a pick at the new case. I put my head at angle, trying to reach the lock. A few minutes in showed my attempts proven fruitless.

I can't get the right angle standing up like this.

I sat down on the bed, and rolled onto my back to give a better view.

A small dust cloud from the bed emerged around me, my muzzle taking it badly.

"Ah... AH!"

I tried to stop myself desperately.

"CH-," I threw my hooves onto my muzzle, dropping the pick in the process. The sneeze came out as nothing more than a tiny sniff.

Phew.

Resuming my progress, I bit onto the end of the lock-pick, and tried once again. It was significantly better in the new position, and conveniently comfortable. The lock was challenging, but not nearly as much as it could have been. The sneeze-danger was well worth the shortcut.

I unlocked the case in record time. There was a satisfying click, followed by my own sigh of relief. I wrapped my hooves around the bottom, opening it out to the side.

As it clicked something else happened. Something I didn't quite expect.

The seemingly harmless quill storage... wasn't quill storage at all. It was a clockwork music box, triggering a few seconds after I unlocked the case.

Oh... horsefeathers.

I'd heard about them in the orphanage, told that only the 'highest' classes of Equestria used them, for their foals to listen to as a plaything. The music box began playing a nursery rhyme song. It was at least double the volume that a pony from the outside would've heard it.

Panicking, I flipped open the case, wearing the necklace over my neck for easy carrying. There wasn't much time before the blacksmith heard the box, so I rushed to my escape route. I was ready to dash out, ready to run for my life, just like with Barn Break—

When did the door close!?

I charged stupidly at the door I'd come from, only injuring myself in the process. I banged the door with both my hooves. Something was blocking it. Maybe it relocked by itself? I hastily grabbed another pick and aimed it at the door, struggling helplessly at the lock.

It didn't work. I was shaking too much to get a proper grip, and honestly, who'd ever heard of a self-locking door? My only guess was it was the blacksmith, blocking my stealthier escape route.

The idea faded quickly once I saw the big, hulking mass at the other door, carrying a hammer in his mouth.

"Dro thuh neckla. Nahw."

He lowered his head, bringing the hammer to my chest-height.

Immediately, two reactions came to mind.

GIVE HIM THE NECKLACE.

Don't give him the necklace, you need it. You can outrun him.

I stood there, frozen, as did he. I didn't have long to choose before he'd start charging.

I chose the latter.

Lowering my head, I galloped straight at him, aiming to go underneath the gap between his legs. It was reaction-versus-reaction. As he swung the hammer in my direction, I readied myself to dodge the blow...

...Only to have it hit me directly on my side, smashing me against the wall. Pots on shelves above me shook from the force as my body slammed into the brick wall.

Now I wasn't the largest from the hideout, and certainly not the strong-mare. Technically I wasn't the weakest, as the foals we kept were clearly not going to be as tough as someone five or so years older. Through the running I did to escape the scenes of crimes, I'd built up some sort of body strength.

Even still, it was a miracle I survived that hit, and an even greater one still that I remained partially conscious. Not saying it didn't hurt. Oh, it hurt. A lot.

The blacksmith was closing in on me slowly, hammer held in mouth, venting fury. He wasn't going to let up, and if he didn't, I was dead. Lucky for me that he stood under a very dangerous spot, some very wobbly pots above him.

I thought that if I could pull it off, I could escape. I stood up with all my strength, and slammed my body into the wall once more. The final force was the required 'push' for a large pot above him to fall.

It dropped squarely on his head with a hard knock. The stallion fell, as did the unscathed pot, onto the wooden layered floor of the smithy.

My struggle was a lot harder than I expected. I slid to the floor, the music from the music box ending its sweet chirp.

I blacked out.

* * *

"Ow..."

Returning to reality was painful. I took a peek at my surroundings. A split second past where I thought it was a dream, but to my dismay, I was still there. The pot on the floor, the shelves above me, and... him, the blacksmith. He was on the ground, his legs keeping him at a kneel, his front hooves hanging from either side, and his head... facing down, the energy drained from him.

I was aghast, seeing the lifeless body in front of me. I took a moment to stare and, out of any last hope, prodded the stallion with a hoof to the chest. He collapsed to the floor.

I... killed him?

I didn't know how long I'd been out for. The sounds from the market outside had stopped. With nopony coming to either his or my rescue for however long, his death was almost certain. Didn't anypony care that the blacksmith had gone from his stall? Didn't they hear anything?

It didn't take long before my mind turned to reality. I'd killed somepony, and I was a murderer.

I've killed somepony.

It was self defence. You had to.

But... I've killed somepony!

It was an accident!

My mind ablaze, I forced myself up onto all fours and limped past the broken corpse and into the darkness engulfing the market plaza. My movement strained from the blow, I limped past closed shops and stalls.

I didn't feel I had the heart to keep it secret from my friends, or Cinders... but what would she say? We broke the law, but never this way. The group's intentions weren't stellar, but they were better than this.

It might drive future clients away from our group! Cinders'll be furious with me, maybe even... even throwing me out.

A sudden burst of nausea started rising up. I rushed to a secluded spot, back behind the smithy. I gagged, trying to let it out, but I couldn't. I simply couldn't.

I started coughing like a madmare, my wounded side erupting into a world of hurt. I tried to make it go away, crawling into the alley corner, curling up in a ball.

It felt like an era before the nausea faded, my coughs fading along with it. I was shaking horribly. A glimmer of light shined off the object on my neck, and I remembered the necklace, and the task.

I've done it, and the client can have their stupid necklace. All I needed to do was take it to them.

Wait... that's it. 'All I need to do'.

I stood up.

I don't need to tell them what happened. As long as nobody saw what happened... Who's going to tell them? How could they find out any other way?

I felt silly for worrying about an ordeal that nopony had seen. I was the only one there, and as long as I didn't say, they didn't know. I wasn't a murderer if I couldn't be found guilty.

That's it. I'll act like it all went according to plan. Then, if anyone asks how he died the next day, I'll say it's coincidence. Nopony needs to know.

I swung my mane, skewed myself towards my uninjured left side, and started the long trot to the hideout.

* * *

"Hey Mrs Goldheart," I said, trying to sound as normal as possible as the silver mare opened the door.

"Good clouds and sky above, dear, what in the magi happened to you?"

"Nothing, nothing... at all," I replied with difficulty, my speech impeded.

She gazed down at my mane and jacket in horror. "Nonsense, you look like you've met a dragon! Are you hurt?"

"Nope, fine as a daisy." I chuckled, hurting my sides in the process.

"You don't have to be so secretive about it, Miss Violet. First Cinders with her leg injury, now this? You're ruffled up something major, and I don't like any of it," she said, peeking her head closer to whisper.

"If anyone is bullying you and your friends, anyone, please tell me. I don't want to see another instance of this, not with Master Jemrock or Yingling, nor with Miss Parable, or any of the foals. You tell me names, and I won't hesitate to bring them to justice, mark my words."

"It's nothing like that at all, Mrs Goldheart, honest. "It... was really just an accident, running a bit too fast down the streets, is all."

"If you get into trouble with anyponies young or old, tell me. The guards'll be over in a hop."

Whatever my situation, calling the guards would probably be the least popular. I gave a small "Thanks", and another when she let me in. She eyed me carefully as I walked the corridor, trying to disguise my slight limp without success. I opened the door to our room. The rest of the group were sitting down, Parable being the exception. She was looking through the window as I entered, and jumped when she saw me.

"Vi- I mean Crow, you're back! I was-, we, were worried about you."

Cinders slid off her chair and walked towards me.

"And with the necklace, no doubt." She looked at it for a second, and then to my face. "What took you this time? Don't tell me it was another colt."

"Not at-not at all," I said. "It took me... longer than normal, is all." I gave out a fake chuckle, and a not-so-sincere smile.

"I'll say. What happened to you? You look like a wreck."

"Happened... to me? Nothing. I'm fine, really."

"Donkey dung. You're hiding something, Crow."

I gave another chuckle.

Why is she being so invasive?

"Hiding something? Why, why would I hide anything? I have nothing to hide."

She looked at me, and smirked. "Wait... I wasn't right, was I? Was it another colt? Please tell me it wasn't."

"Don't be stupid, Cinders." I prayed the inquisition would stop so I could get to a bed and rest.

"Whatever you say. So that's the necklace, huh? You got the right one, did you?"

"O-of course. The one in the display case."

"First a diary, now a cheap rip-off? This client we have has a weird taste, huh?" she said, taking a further look at it, the locket in particular. "What's in that, I wonder?"

She used both her hooves to click open the locket on either side.

I couldn't tell what was in it, but it made Cinders, as well as every pony looking at it, stunned. Cinders paused, taking it in.

"Is i-it alright if I go-"

"It's a diamond! Clean cut. too," Cinders said, gleaming at it. "Hmm. 'Eliza'... Well, look at that! Turns out our friend does have a bit of class after all. Nice grab, Crow!"

She clicked the locket back, and gave me a friendly slap to my right with a hoof. She hit me before I could recoil, and an insurmountable blast of pain struck me. My eyes burst wide open and I screamed, the façade I'd put on tossed aside mercilessly.

"Gahhh...!"

I keeled over onto my back, my vision going blurry. I heard their voices from above.

"Woah, what did I do? Are you alright?"

"Hey, hey! Why's Crow screaming?"

"What happened?"

"Cinders, why did you do that?"

"Everypony quiet!"

There was a moment of silence from the others. When I'd stopped writhing in pain, Cinders spoke. "Crow, what in Tartarus was that all about?"

I didn't want to say—if I did, I had to explain everything. So I didn't, trying instead to ignore the question altogether.

"Stop messing about, Crow."

"Where did you hit her?" Parable asked.

"Only on her right... Jem, can you levitate her jacket off?"

I speedily raised a hoof in protest. "No, don't!"

"Sorry Crow."

The young blue stallion filled out her request, and I felt my body sting as the jacket peeled off. They stared, in horrified silence at me.

"Uh... you... don't know any doctors around here, do you Cinders? Jem sounded almost queasy.

Cinders shot a look at him.

"We do, Jem. But we aren't going to get one yet. Instead, she's going to tell me what happened. Right now."

I turned to her, pain-tears blocking my sight.

"Can we talk... in private?"

* * *

Cinders agreed begrudgingly. She didn't see a reason to send the others away, but I persisted on it. I didn't want anypony to know, but on the bright side, Cinders wasn't fragile. I hated the idea of telling Parable, for instance. She told the others to move out, and after closing the door behind them, signalled me to a chair. I clambered on with difficulty.

She turned to me. "They're gone. Explain.”

"It's... to do with the job."

"Go on."

I felt uneasy from her stare, and searched my brain for an alternative explanation. The limelight disabled any good excuse I may have thought about when I was walking up. It was no use.

I told her what happened. The events in the smithy, the lock-picking, the music box, the blacksmith's death, everything. Her brow furrowed as I came to my conclusion.

"...I see why you wanted to speak in private," she sighed.

"You're going to throw me out, I suppose."

Cinders shook her head. "You didn't have a choice, Crow. It doesn't put me or you in a good position, though. This is the second death that's been tied to you in the past couple of weeks, and this one you committed. Keep this up, and we'll be getting the wrong kinds of attention, from the law or not."

"Like you said, though, I didn't have a choice!"

"I know. Just... don't do it again, okay? It's not good for us. Don't make this sort of thing persist any longer, or we'll have a real problem."

The mare walked to the door. "I'll get you that doctor now."

She opened the door, and put one hoof outside before I heard Ying's voice.

"Cinders, there's somepony here for you. Says he's here for the necklace."

"Oh!" I heard her exclaim. "Well, how about that? You're just in time. Please do come in, sir."

She reversed into the room. Her ears had fallen submissively as she moved back into the room beside me, bearing an expression like a scared filly. It made me worried.

"Crow, I'd like you to meet our guest. He's the client we've been working for."

A taller, cloaked stallion came in dressed in black, with a hood covering his face. He was wearing dark leather boots, strapped on with scaly-looking material. I hadn't seen anything like it before. He spoke with a strangely upbeat posh Manehatten accent.

"So this is the young mare I've heard so much about. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

He tossed the hood up and behind his mane, revealing a beige face with a smile. He had a grey mane, matching the colour of his eyes.

"And with the necklace I ordered, too. Marvellous. You fail to disappoint, you know."

I didn't want to speak. Cinders made hoof-signs to take the necklace off, pointing at her neck, then mine. I started getting it off, lowering my head and trying it at with a hoof.

The stallion turned to Cinders.

"Quiet type, isn't she?" He approached me, laying out a hoof. "Now, my little pony...you needn't trouble yourself with it. Let me."

He walked closer, perhaps a bit too close. He bit onto the locket of the necklace, and with one smooth action tugged it over my head. With another, he wrapped it over his own, looking at me all the while.

"Smokey Cinders, you truly have a fascinating group here. It's piqued my curiosity of late. I would like to bestow a gift."

"What would that be, sir?" Cinders asked.

"I invite your friend... Crow, is it? I invite her to my mansion, all expenses paid for. Let's say... tomorrow, shall we?"

I looked at Cinders, and she looked back at me, guilty as ever.

She isn't going to go through with this, is she? I need medical attention!

I was about to open my mouth in protest, when Cinders stopped me.

"Of course, sir. She'll be there tomorrow. I can show her the way."

"Grand. I know she won't disappoint."

He re-cloaked and left the room, the other ponies lowering their heads as he passed by.

I turned to Cinders in anger. I waited for the front door to close before unleashing it.

"I. Need. Medical attention!"

She looked down, trying not to meet my eyes. For the first time ever, her eye's glow faded.

"I'm sorry, Crow. You'll—you'll have to wait."

Chapter V: Proposition

Chapter V

PROPOSITION

I had another dream the following night. I saw a dark room, no entrance, no exit, with a single candle on a table in the middle and a chessboard by the side of it.

There was a hooded figure, moving its' pieces across the board with thought. The other pieces moved with no visible pony, nor magical aura moving them.

The figure and his counterpart seemed to be an even match. Both had equal losses, with no one at a gain, until one last move. The hooded figure moved a pawn to the opponent's edge, turning it into his lost queen. Checkmate. An ember spouted from atop the new queen.

The entire board burst aflame, the table holding it crumbling under its own weight.

The hooded figure grinned. It extinguished the candle with a hoof, disappearing into the shadow. I woke up.

* * *

The next morning wasn't nearly as bright and cheery as the others. Firstly, I was meant to attend an invitation by a creepy stallion who I didn't have a clue about, aside from him being, well, creepy. Secondly, my side was aching like hell. The 'promised' doctor still hadn't arrived. Cinders had a right to be apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Crow... once you're back, It'll be my first priority. I promise."

"Why can't you tell him I'll be in later? You know I can't be on my best behaviour like this!"

She bowed her head to the floor. "Like I said, Crow. This stallion could be the most important pony in the whole city for us. We can't go setting dates for him. It'd... give a bad impression."

"Way I see it, you're giving a bad impression by sending me without treatment," I huffed.

"Look, when you're ready, I'll lead you to his house," she said, evading my comment. "You can rant at me all you want afterwards."

I begrudgingly accepted her offer. She was very forward about me meeting with this client, and as much as I didn't like it, it was her command. She knocked off a decent amount of respect I had for her. Cinders was acting less like the great leader she always made out to be.

My body was giving me serious trouble to start off with. I could barely walk, let alone travel to somepony's house! Cinders led me out, eventually; passing through bustling streets where the workers flocked to their jobs. Nothing unusual. The two of us were silent. I didn't have anything else to say, and from the sounds of it, neither did she.

The trip into the centre of the city brought us to the rich district. We passed Melody Street on our way, and I took a glance at my former target. It looked similar to before, the spiked iron fences holding strong and tall as ever. The hole I'd squeezed under was covered by a stone slab, while the earth underneath the gate was risen slightly. They found out how I got in. I took a look at nearby mansions. They all had a similar setup, the potential passage blocked. "Huh."

Cinders turned her head from a flying pegasus to face me. "What?"

"Nothing," I said bluntly, turning my head to the road. I couldn't deal with talking to her, not yet.

We continued to walk through the rich district, eventually coming to a corner in the road. Cinders led me onto a metalled road, going up a small hill. The road appeared to have been constructed for the sole purpose of directing ponies to the manor, as there was not a single other house along it. She stopped us at the dead-end, pointing a hoof at the large house ahead of us.

"Here we are. 'Hoofsplit Manor'. Knock the door, tell the butler your name. Don't forget to say you have an audience with the owner."

"What do I say once I'm inside?" I asked.

"You play it calm. If he asks you anything, tell him. If he gives you anything, take it. If he offers you a job..."

"Do it?" I muttered.

"Exactly. All of us are counting on you, Crow." Cinders nodded to me, before breaking off down the hill.

I sighed, turning to see the manor in full. Working with this client seemed to always involve everyone counting on me. The manor house was colossal in size, consisting of a three-storey main building, with two side-buildings connected to it. The garden below was filled with hedge sculptures of dolphins, dragons, and ponies in elegant poses. They bordered the road leading to the dual-door entrance, the doors themselves made of a thick wood.

I walked up to the doors. I saw a lapis doorknocker on one side, shaped like a diamond. There were two others engraved beside it. I tapped the doorknocker, waiting for a response.

It was quick. I heard a regal stallion's voice from the other side, seconds later. "Yes? Who is it that attempts to enter?"

"Uh," I said, taking a moment to understand the question. "I was invited by the owner. My name is Violet."

"Violet," the voice repeated, falling silent. I waited a while, hearing some muffled background chatter. Eventually, the door inched open, with the pale blue face of a unicorn poking into view. "Your audience has been requested. Enter."

The door swung open gradually, showing me a room that was... unbelievable.

Gold upon silver, steel upon marble, the foyer was nothing short of magnificent. I'd never seen anything quite like it. Full armour plates were set up on stands, glistening beside the walls. Chandeliers hung from above, with the candles like little crystals. The sprawling dual staircase in front of me was layered with a rich purple carpet with gold trimmings. It was the sort of place I'd dream about living in.

I gave a gasp, my mouth wide open. "Wow..."

The butler appeared unfazed, levitating a ledger next to him while ringing a chime on the side of the wall. "My master will be down shortly. In the meantime, please enter the room to the right."

I continued to gawk at the interior scenery. "How can you just stand there like that? This... this is incredible."

"One gets used to it after a while," he said dully. "As I said, the room to your right. You may lay on one of the couches as you wait."

I did as told, finding myself in what appeared to be the living room. Inside, there were two long black leather couches, and in the middle of them was a table, five times the size of the one in the boarding house. The room's walls were decorated with paintings, with a large variety of fern plants underneath.

There were a couple of bookcases to the side as well, next to some smaller leather hoof-chairs; it was a remarkably well-kept room. I found myself laying on the couch closest to the foyer entrance. It was comfy, much comfier than anything I could remember, though not enough to take away the pain from my side.

We could sure use a couple of these back at home.

Waiting ensued. I examined the table a bit closer, following the dark grains through the furniture. I ran a hoof across the air, following the paths they led. I imagined the grain as a deep, dancing river, streaming off into distant lands, with myself on the boat sailing it. I'd gotten three quarters into the journey across the varnished surface when I heard somepony calling out.

"Terribly sorry. A stallion undressed is a stallion unprepared, wouldn't you say? I don't mean to be unprepared. After all," he noted, "first impressions are priceless."

* * *

The stallion sat down on the couch opposite to me.

He wore a huge dark red and gold fur coat, accompanied by a white trim around the neck. The getup practically radiated wealth. He was a gold-furred earth pony stallion, grey eyes and an identically coloured grey mane swept behind his ears at length. He spoke in the same posh Manehatten accent as the night before.

"Greetings and, uh... many apologies on my first visit. I assure you that a hooded cloak will be the last thing you'll see me in again," he chuckled. "Does my humble abode prove well for your tastes, Miss Violet?"

"It's amazing, truly. I wouldn't dare call it humble though, Mister...?" I said, baiting out a name.

"Silt, and I thank you," he said. "You may wonder why I sent for you, Miss Violet. It won't take long, I'm sure. I wanted a chat, away from that fascinating group you belong to. Before I start though, I must ask...are you fine to continue?"

"...Fine to continue?" I repeated.

"I apologise, my wording isn't what it used to be... what I mean, is are you comfortable sitting down here, talking to me? If there's any problem, do not hesitate to tell me. Hungry, thirsty, cold... anything."

I thought on his question. "There is one thing."

"Please, go on," he requested.

"It's... my right side. It's in a bit of pain."

He raised an eyebrow, and looked over my head to the foyer. "Felltree? Get our guest an extra cushion, would you?"

I heard movement behind me, as the butler clip-clopped on the marble floor in the foyer. Within moments, the butler came into the room with a pillow matching the colour of the couch. He placed it in front of me. I thanked him, positioning myself onto the pillow. It was comfier than before, but the problem wasn't gone. The pain still gnawed at me like a grizzled timberwolf.

"Better?" Mr Silt asked.

"...It'll do," I said, attempting to placate him.

The stallion's smile turned to a frown. "It'll do? Nonsense. In this household, we do not simply 'make do'. I am a gentle-stallion, and must help treat whatever ails you. Felltree? Our guest requires treatment!"

He spoke faster than I could keep up with. It wasn't a problem for the butler, who moments later placed a vial with a bright red liquid close by me, on the centre of the table. "The healing potion, sir," Felltree muttered.

"Splendid, Felltree. Please Miss Violet, drink."

The fluid within the vial looked harmless enough, but I had my doubts. The same as any sane pony when offered a potion. Mrs Goldheart always told me taking potions from strangers was never a smart idea, and the way he seemed so casual about it...

It didn't seem right. Things didn't add up. How could he have already had the potion at ready?

He must be lying. What could it be? Poison? A sleeping potion? Or even worse... a love potion?

I gulped at the prospect, my muscles shifting away from the table.

I thought he was creepy the moment I put eyes on him. I was told to accept anything by Cinders, but this is madness! My certain doom, ensured by a vial of misconception? Neigh, I won't stand for it. I'll decline! I'll-

The stallion sighed, face-hoofing at my apparent fear.

"Felltree? Please, feed the guest her healing potion. She... can't seem to do it herself."

The butler walked up from behind me. He whipped the vial off the table magically, and brought it swiftly to my lips, feeding the liquid to me against my will. The vial was emptied quickly. The butler hovered the vial back to the table. I widened my eyes as I coughed, catching my breath.

"There there, Miss Violet, let it out," Mr Silt said, as I was in mid-cough. "Apologies, but I'd rather there being no distractions before we get to business. Anything else?"

I didn't feel any different. The stallion was still sitting, shaking his head. I didn't think he looked any more attractive. In fact, I was starting to feel better. The pain in my side was ebbing away. I managed to recover from the coughing moments later, and the pain had gone. I prodded my right side, to make sure it wasn't numb. It felt the same as it did before the hammer-wound.

Is it... healed?

I wasn't sure howan injury that could have taken weeks for a remedy by hoof and bandage could have taken a matter of seconds to heal.

"Was that... really a healing potion?" I asked.

"Of course," he laughed. "Why would I lie?"

I blushed. "Sorry... I'm just not used to taking potions from strangers."

He paused. "I... suppose there's plenty of reason to be sceptical, from your point of view. In fact, I'm rather happy that you did think before taking it, though I'd rather you simply told me beforehoof," he smirked. "Your ability to not believe my word as fact is admirable, though. How about we think of it as... a test? Proving that there's clearly more to you than meets the eye."

"I suppose we could," I replied.

He slammed a hoof on the table, making a satisfying 'clunk' as it hit. "Marvellous, we're in agreement already! Keep on like this, and I'm sure the day will simply fly by." He let out a short laugh, one that I didn't follow. "I'm, ah, joking, of course. Your decision counts as much as mine, and you have the freedom of choice to accept or deny."

"Accept or deny what?"

The stallion paused, his expression turned serious. "I suppose we should stop dilly-dawdling," he said, getting off his couch. "Follow me, please."

He signalled me with a hoof to go with him. I was led out the room living room and into the foyer, where he passed through to a hallway on the left. I followed slowly behind, my eyes to the floor as I fascinated myself with the reflected light.

* * *

Mr Silt led me on, passing the staircase and into a separate hallway. It was populated by doors on either side, with all kinds of paintings covering the blank spaces. We reached the end of one hallway and he stopped, looking at one of the doors to his side. Raising a hoof in mid-air, the stallion began to count in a whisper.

"Fifteen, Sixteen—no, that's not right. Twenty two, perhaps?" he said, and paused, and walked up to the door. The door was usual, aside from a looking glass placed high up, and out of my view. He took a peek in it, squinting. Jerking his head back from the door a second later, he chuckled. "Heh, no matter. The room is occupied. I know there's at least one that we can use, privately, though it'll be a bit of a trip."

He began to walk back the way we came. I caught up, still following him. "There's other ponies?" I asked.

"Of course. I hire all sorts to help me."

"What for?"

"Various jobs here and there. Some protect my business at home, the others protect my interests in the city. Interests that have lately been difficult to protect. It's precisely why you, Violet, are so important. But we'll get to that later."

He led me back to the foyer, and we remade the journey down the steps. His answers were extremely vague, and I wanted to push further. I wanted to understand why he considered me so valuable.

"Mister Silt, what do you do for a living?"

He laughed. "A living, eh? Don't be shy, dear, even if 'a living' is the polite term. I'd deem my work as more of a means to indulge, than a way to 'live'."

"So, how do you earn your money?"

"Military service, of course," he said, tapping the breastplate of a suit of armour as he past by. It made a clink as he touched it. I stared at him curiously, and he smiled back. "Ha!I Of course I jest. My line of work is probably as far from the battlefield as Canterlot's Queen is to manual labour, though it's taken many paths. I started out as a cotton-weaver, y'know."

"How'd you get here, then?"

"I rose the ranks of trade, and got extremely lucky to make the wealth I do today. Now my work consists of keeping hold of that wealth. Speaking of which," he said, stopping at a metal door. He brought a key from his neck, hidden by the coat, and brought it to the door. "Welcome, to my treasury," he said, the door opened wide.

Chests among chests were sitting around the sides of the room, too many to count, and each one with a lock the size of my hoof. There were piles beside them, piles of tiny shining pieces of gold, bits, swamping the chests in an ocean of glimmer. They were locked away from touch, protected by mighty steel bars. Five chairs and a table stood in the centre of the room. They were unvarnished, undecorated, and quite dull compared to the rest of it.

He could easily buy another ten mansions with that amount of money.

"Wondrous, isn't it?" the stallion said, making his way to one of the chairs. "Take a seat, Violet."

Half-blinding myself staring at the bits, I trod over to one of the chairs and sat speechless. The room was akin to a dragon's dungeon.

He glanced at one of the chests. "Each one of these is full to the brim, you take my word."

"I-I'm sure," I muttered, blinking, trying to focus. On closing my eyes, I saw little blue circles where the bits used to be. "What do you want to talk about?"

"A proposition," Mr Silt said, his eyes firmly on me. "I've seen your work previously Violet, and I must say, I'm impressed. You see, a professional thief is rather easy to come by in Pastur, but I don't want one." He continued to look at me through his cold, grey eyes. "They're an intimidating, stupid lot, more likely to run off with your wallet than return it. You aren't like that, though. You're small, smart, agile, and when you get a contract, you finish it. I like that."

He leaned forward, placing his hooves on the table. "What do you say to some extra work? It'll be contract-based like the ones I've given you before. I must warn you that they won't be easy, but the risk will be worth the reward."

"What do I have to do?"

Mr Silt paused for a second, a hoof to his chin. "Things similar to what you've done already, really... sneaking, unlawfully gaining entrance, stealing valuables... this all comes to mind. A small manner of self-defence may also be in order, though I'm sure if you're fast and sneaky, that won't be a problem."

I thought back to the blacksmith, and shuddered. "How much am I getting paid, again?"

He smiled. "Enough to keep you and your friends alive and well for months. I intend to spoil you if you succeed, Violet. That much is certain."

I looked back at the piles of bits. He could certainly pay, and we needed the money. I didn't like the sound of it being 'not easy'. If almost being killed was 'easy', I dared not think what the next step was.

However... we did need the money. "I don't think I can decide, right now. Could I; could I have a day to think it over, and talk to Cinders about it?"

"Of course, it's your decision. I don't want to force you, but remember," he said, raising an eyebrow, "this is your work, not hers. The work goes to you, and only you, same as the pay. You can choose what you do with it." He stood up, brushing himself of dust. " That's enough for now. There's a particular play at the Odeon I've been told is an absolute delight. If you do make up your mind, please come back, preferably today at dusk. I'll be back by then."

I jumped off my chair, and headed to the door. He followed from behind, and locked the door once we both left. I waited for him, and he led on, back to the foyer.

I was given a deal. A contract for new work, and a new opportunity. I knew what Cinders would say, but I didn't want to steal from anypony more dangerous than a common vendor anymore. The most recent contract seriously put me off.

I guessed that wasn't important. The group and the hideout should be a higher priority. Am I being selfish? I didn't know. I thought I'd probably go through with it... but I didn't like it.

Mr Silt led me to the front door, giving a bow with a "Farewell" as I left Hoofsplit House. I walked down the winding road, onto Melody Street, without feeling the need to speed up. I passed by the mansions, and stared at them. These mansions, I thought, are nothing compared to Mister Silt's house. But one day, I'll have one just the same, with a library, and servants, and a fancy dual staircase...

* * *

I spent the trip fantasizing about my dream house. As it turned out, the house would not have a dual, but a quad staircase. The exteriors would be slides instead of steps, because it would be easier to get down, and, well, why not. There'd also be fifty servants, all stallions, and a magically re-filling buffet. Now that was a house.

Reaching the boarding house, I gave a knock.

The silvery mare opened the door. "Good afternoon Miss Violet! You've arrived just in time for lunch."

"Hey Mis'ess Goldheart. Is Cinders home?"

"I'm afraid not, dear. She and the rest of your friends have already left. Have you come back early?"

"Yeah. You don't know where they are, do you?"

The mare let out a "Hmm," skewing her mouth to one side. "I heard one of them say something about the market when they left."

"Oh! Thanks, Mis'ess Goldheart," I said, turning around.

I heard her speak behind me. "Going already? I was just ready to have my meal. I know you lot don't usually eat during the middle of the day, so I'd be happy to share if you're hungry."

It was true that we only ate one meal a day, at dinner. I'd gotten used to it though, and didn't want to intrude. I smiled at her awkwardly. "No thank you. I really need to find my friends, is all. Not that I don't appreciate the offer."

"Well okay then, dear. I don't think any of you are eating enough, though."

"Don't worry, we're fine. Goodbye!" I said abruptly, and turned away. A discussion on Mrs Goldheart's worries would take so long that her food would go cold. In a way, I was helping her.

I set out on a trot to the market plaza. I wasn't aware of what they were doing, as I wasn't really listening the night before. The marketplace rang a bell, though. It wasn't as packed as it had been before, as most ponies were at their jobs. I spotted my group easily, with Cinders and Jem leading the others, below the plaza staircase. The yellow mare was speaking quietly to the others.

"Fillies? Colts? We're gonna split into groups. Get yourselves a partner, and meet up by your team leader. We'll get started afterwards. Remember, don't be too loud. We don't want to draw attention."

I watched as the foals began to pair themselves. Walking past them, I heard a whispered conversation.

"I'm already with him. He's my partner."

"But that's sooo unfair! You had him last time."

"Yeah, well you just want him 'cause he's good. Me and Tell-Tale though, we're friends. That's what matters, right Tale?"

I walked up to Cinders. She didn't see me straight away, her eyes on Jem as they talked to each other. I cleared my throat. Jem turned to me, and poked Cinders. She looked up, and placed a hoof to her mouth, gasping. "Crow, you're here! I-I forgot to get the doctor, sorry. I'll go get him, right now if you want."

"Doctor?" I asked, walking up.

"Uh... you know, for your side?"

The hammer wound! The ordeal with the potion, and the goodwill of Mr Silt rubbed my mind clean of it. It never crossed my mind that she'd still be looking for a doctor, and I didn't even feel angry she hadn't put it as a first priority.

I smiled at her. "No need. Mister Silt gave me a healing potion, and it's fine. No pain at all."

"He did? That's great! Those things are very rare, you know. I didn't tell you his real name either, did I?" she said, sighing. "I'm real sorry, Crow."

"Thanks. I actually have something to talk about, something he told me."

She looked at the foals, and threw a hoof up in-between us. "Just a minute.

Cinders turned to them, the foals gathered around either Jem, Yin, Parable, or herself. "Are we ready?" she whispered. The foals nodded back. "Good. You know the drill. Merge with the crowd, listen to your team leader. Whoever takes the most without getting caught, wins. I think we'll put extra points on coin purses this time. Go!"

They scurried up the stairs with their leaders trotting ahead. There were two left by Cinders, a colt and a filly. Cinders turned to them. "Sorry, guys, I'm having an important talk with Crow, here. How about you two join up with the others? Make a couple of threes."

"But I don't want them to win. I want you to win, Cinders," the filly said.

"Yeah, Feint, so do I," said Cinders, half-caring. "But sometimes you've gotta learn your opponents to beat 'em, and all."

"Awwww. If you say so, Cinders," Feint said, turning, and running up the stairs. The colt looked at the two of us, before quickly re-joining his partner.

"Figured sending 'em out for a bit of thievery wouldn't be a bad idea." Cinders said, turning to me. "Makes sure that someday they won't turn out useless. Parable's teaching them how to make 'honest' livings, but, let's face it, they aren't going to be doing that anytime soon," she said, giving half a grin. "So, what happened? He didn't speak about me, did he?"

"He gave me a proposition. I think I really need to ask you about it."

"Huh. Alright, then. What was it?"

"He wants me to work for him, doing jobs similar to my past contracts. Nopony else, just me."

Cinders gasped. "That's great, Crow. You realise how rich he is, right? Did he say how much he'd pay?"

"A lot. Enough to pay for our food for a while. That's what he said, anyway."

"Hold up. You said yeah, right?" she said, taking a step back.

"Not yet. In truth, I'm a bit scared. He said they'd be more difficult than before and, well, I almost died before..."

She stared at me, her eyes' glow evermore present. " Crow, you're better than that, You know why? Because you learn from your mistakes. He wants you for a reason, and he knows you won't let him down. Why else would he ask? Trust me," she said, placing a hoof on my shoulder, "you doing this will be the best decision you've made."

Cinders wasn't fooling around with me. She was being sincere, I knew it. I was put in a situation, my 'skill' put to the test for bits, but what else was there? My whole life up to the point was a mix of me trying my luck to make the best of a bad situation. Why stop? The reward was too good to refuse. A few jobs rather than a few hundred to make the same money? The guards would eventually catch up on us, and it was only a matter of time. I gave a sigh and straightened up. "You're right, Cinders. I'll go back at dusk, and tell him I accept."

"Great!" she said, hugging me. "He's only an' old crook, what's the worst job he can throw at you? I promise, Crow, we'll be way better off."

"If you say so."

"So... you're sure he didn't say anything about me? Not a word?"

I paused, recounting the conversation from before. "I don't think he had anything to say about you, personally."

She deflated. "That's... that's a real shame. I really thought he would've—" she paused, "no, never mind." The mare broke off, and headed up the staircase.

Cinders was being awfully careful at keeping something quiet.

* * *

The activity she ran was a smart idea. Not only did we have ten ponies working at the same time, but they actually wanted to outpace each other. Competition was an incentive anypony could get a grasp of, including me. I joined in with Jem while Cinders sat by the side, quietly observing. We weren't actually meant to take anything ourselves—the activity was meant to help the foals learn it. It wasn't the money-efficient way of doing things, but as Jem recited, "If we're involved too much, the kids'll only be along for the ride, not taking responsibility themselves."

The winning team was, much to her chagrin, almost always Parables' group throughout the afternoon. The most valuable pony being the justifiably-hyped dark-green colt, Tell-Tale. I knew he left his parents out of personal choice to live with us, but that was about it. He had some real skill at stealing, making a large portion of the bits we took home.

We travelled back to the hideout a while later. Dinner was soup again, though a few of the foals managed to take some small cakes from the bakery stall as dessert. The cakes were stale, almost tasteless. I forced myself to eat one, as they'd only get worse if they were left.

As I ate, I thought about the consequences of not taking the offer. We'd been lucky taking so much that afternoon, but it wasn't common. What about when there weren't any new stalls? We'd get recognised soon enough. They probably knew a couple of faces by now already.

After I'd eaten, it was time to set out to the manor house. The sky was getting dark, and I didn't want to keep my soon-to-be boss waiting. I began to walk to the door when Jem interrupted me. "Crow! Where'ya going?"

I turned to him. "You know that stallion I talked to you about in the market?"

"Yeah?"

"He told me to meet at Hoofsplit House, so I can get the job. It's important, so I'm really sorry, but I don't have time to tal—"

"Wait!" he shouted, startling me. "Did you say Hoofsplit house? I've heard that name before."

I paused. "What about it?"

"My Father used to know a stallion who lived there, ages ago. They used to be good friends. I can't remember the name, but he always gave a helping hoof, even sparing a couple of bits when we got down on luck. He was really great!" the young stallion shouted again, making me wince. "You don't think he's the same pony, do you?"

It certainly sounded a lot like the same pony. He gave me the potion, he gave us work... perhaps it wasn't money for free, but he still gave us the opportunity. The generosity he'd shown me was far beyond the average posh pony.

"Uh... what was your father's name, Jem?" I asked.

"Coalrock. Junior," he replied.

"I'll make sure to say to his friend that you say Hi," I grinned. He waved a hoof goodbye, and I left the room. My luck couldn't get any better.

* * *

I made my way to Mr Silt's house, the path past the mansions lit up, as always. I approached the manor before long, and walked up to the door.

"Are you trying to ruin everything?"

I heard the loud voice from inside the building, and I restrained from knocking the door. The voice continued.

"Typical. Mysterious 'omens'? You're all alike. Don't you care for the real world?"

Another voice cropped up. I could just about hear it through the doors.

"It is fact Sore-Eyes, and you relish in it. I will not be a contributor any longer."

"Leave, then. The doors are in front of you. But know that I will get what I want, Delphi."

I moved back as the doors opened. A zebra mare exited the building wearing a green coat, and a multitude of bags over it. Turning to look at me, she shook her black mane. "Pathetic."

I couldn't tell whether she was talking about me or the other pony, but she was clearly annoyed, stomping onto the road. Once she left, I turned to look in the foyer, and saw Mr Silt standing by the staircase.

He beamed at me. "Violet! Please, come in."

"Who's she?" I asked, making my way inside. I looked over the room briefly. It looked as spectacular as ever.

"Her? A former associate. A shame, really," he said, pausing to close the doors. "No matter. How are you? Have you thought about the proposition? Please, take a seat in the parlour, so we can talk." He successfully dodged the question, leaving me wordless. I followed him in, and sat down on the same couch as before. I heard the marble floor being crossed behind me, and saw that the butler, not present when the zebra left, re-stationed himself at the door.

"So Violet, what was it..." he said, tapping a hoof on the table. "Ah, the deal, yes. Have you come up with an answer?"

"I have, Mister Silt. You've made a tempting offer. I... have to accept."

"Wonderful!" the over-dressed stallion said, clapping his hooves together in applause. "You don't know how much this means, my girl."

I was eager to begin, ignoring the intrusion from the zebra before. "When do I start?"

"Straight to the point," he grinned. "Your first task will be in five days. I'll send a letter for you when it's time. While you're waiting, it would be a fine idea to get acquainted to the others you'll be working with. Please, wait a moment."

The stallion got up from his seat, and walked across the room to the foyer. I was soon alone in the room, for the second time that day. My attention was drawn to the sides of the room as I waited. The bookcases held dusty, uninteresting books, hardly anything to look at. After trying to make out a few titles from where I was sitting and failing, I looked instead at the plants on either side. They were large, and had leaves that spiralled out in all directions.

My attention was diverted by the sound of hoof-steps, and background murmuring. Turning to the foyer, I saw Mr Silt, accompanied by three others. They entered the room casually, and sat down either side by Mr Silt, their faces towards me.

The grey-eyed stallion spoke first. "Greetings, everypony! This is our new addition to the team. Violet, I'd like you to meet Shady Skies, Bastion, and Vallérose," he said, pointing to them in turn.

"Huh. I'd never thought Sore-Eyes had it in him to hire a filly. But you're proof of concept, I suppose. Welcome," Shady Skies said, a turquoise-mane grey pegasus mare wearing a dark jacket.

The orange unicorn in the middle nodded at Shady Skies. "Yes, an odd choice. But a good one, I bet." He turned to Mr Silt. "I trust your choice is right, for all of us."

"Thank you. Would you like to say anything Vallé, before we move on?"

"I welcome the filly," she said, speaking in a rarely heard accent. "Violet, you can work in a team, yes?" The only time I'd heard it before was from a male farmpony at the market, a couple of months back. "Violet?"

"Oh!" I exclaimed. "Yes, I can work in a team. Don't worry about that Miss, uh, Miss Vallé."

The imperial-purple mare gleamed at me. "Magnifique."

"So, while we're here," Bastion said facing Mr Silt, "What're the plans with Twitch, and his lot? I hear tell it won't be long before the noose."

He grinned. "Correct. Just in time for our newest member to prove herself."

I blinked. "Wait...what? I'm s-saving somepony's life?"

Shady seemed equally confused, frowning at Silt from behind. "Excuse me?"

Silt didn't notice. "All in due time, Miss Violet. We don't even know how to approach it as of yet. Until then best to get some rest, don't you think?" He nodded to the others beside him, and they stood up, dispersing into the foyer. I sat, motionless. A thought popped into my head.

"Mister Silt! Wait."

He turned around. "What, Violet? We've gone through everything we needed to, haven't we?"

"Do you know a stallion called Coalrock?"

Mr Silt paused while the others left, standing by the edge of the couch. He took a long gaze at me, before giving his answer. "No, I don't think I do."

"You, you don't? What about Jemrock?"

"Jemrock is the young stallion in your group. Is there something I should know about him?"

"Jem told me that, well... Coalrock and you were good friends."

"Your friend is mistaken," he said, shutting down my question before it even grazed the surface. He stood up along with the three he'd brought along. He started to walk off, leading the others into the foyer and out of sight. I wasn't sure what to think, whether he, or Jem was lying to me. I usually trusted Jem, but he was prone to saying some wacky stories. I took a mental note to ask Jem about it later.

It occurred to me that I'd been in a serious discussion with Mr Silt, and three seemingly important ponies. I'd participated in meetings before, but with grown mares, and stallions? Treated on the same level? It was bizarre. In any sane pony's mind, Shady Skies was right to doubt me.

Mr Silt chose me for a reason. I wanted to do the work, and I aimed to deliver.

Chapter VI: Jailbreak

Chapter VI

JAILBREAK

I heard a voice as I woke up on the sixth day after the meeting.

"Crow, I need you up and awake."

It was Cinders. She hadn't bothered me for the last few days—there wasn't much I needed to do. I straightened up in my bed, shifting to look at her. "What's the problem?"

"A messenger came. She gave me a letter, addressed to you. Your job was today, right?"

I anchored my legs off the mattress, onto the floor. "It is. It's been five days. You wouldn't mind reading me what it says while I get dressed, would you?"

"Of course not."

I fought myself out of bed and started to fit my jacket on. Cinders brought the letter to the table as I did so. She ripped it open, and read the contents aloud.

"Violet, twelve o'clock noon, Farmpony Memorial. Rendezvous with team, they will explain. Signed, S-E-S," she said, and stopped reading, returning a glance at me. "Talk about vague."

"He was the same at the meeting, barely told me a word about it," I explained, buttoning up my jacket.

"Some ponies are plain crooks when it comes to information. Won't tell you a bit 'till it's right for them."

I smirked. "We live in Pastur, Cinders. What else should d'you expect?"

She turned to check out the window. "How long will you be out?"

"The whole day, if my last contracts were anything to go on," I muttered, walking to the door.

"Well, make sure to get back for dinner so we can celebrate. I wouldn't want to leave you behind. Good luck, Crow."

"Thanks," I said, walking out of the room in silence. We had enough money to buy some of the best dinner in Pastur, and I hoped I'd get it. Seeing how many bits Silt laid on the table, I was certain we weren't going to run out anytime soon.

* * *

I reached the Farmpony memorial, a little earlier than requested. The Memorial was in the centre of the city, and as usual, bustling with activity. Ponies with honest work and honest jobs weren't the only ones there. Beggars littered the sides of the stone monument in the centre, while ramshackle stalls spruced up without consent from the mayor, selling unused farm produce to second-hoof timepieces.

The market, ironically, sold similar products, with their only advantage being the right to sell there. "Why spend time going far away to a market where prices were higher, when you could buy what you needed so much nearer to home?" was the argument. The problem was that it only took one un-bribed guard to arrive at the scene, and both the seller, and the buyer, were given a fine, jail if they couldn't pay.

The risk evens out when you take into consideration that we stole from the market. Cinders told us that if we did buy anything, we should buy it by the memorial. The cost was just icing to the cake.

I passed through the crowd and away from stalls, finding two members of my 'team'—Shady Skies, and Bastion. I trotted up to them. The orange stallion noticed me, and waved a hoof ecstatically. "Morning, Violet! It's a pleasure to see you out of Hoofsplit."

"You could say that," Shady muttered.

I walked up to them. "Hey Bastion," I greeted enthusiastically, and turned to the mare beside him. "Shady."

"We're waiting for Vallé at the moment," Bastion said. "When she's here, we'll give you the brief, and we'll be off."

"What about Mister Silt?" I asked.

Shady looked to me, and sneered. "What about him? What... do you think he'd tag along?" She looked at the floor, shaking her mane. "Foals..."

I fell silent, and looked to Bastion for some kind of comfort. He gave a half-grin, and whispered to me. "Don't worry about her, Violet. She's always mean to newcomers. Think nothing of it."

"Thanks," I whispered back.

He spoke up. "Mister Silt is a busy stallion, and he's paid us to do his jobs. He doesn't attend them personally."

The unicorn sat down on a bench close by. I joined him, as Shady leaned on a wall nearby. We waited. And waited. Feeling a need to talk, I turned to the unicorn. "So," I started, "Do you know what we're doing here? I haven't been told a thing about it yet."

Bastion paused. "Sorry. Sore-Eyes told us to wait for when we're doing it to tell you."

"Please?"

"Hmm... Very well. You aren't running off anywhere soon, I guess," he said, lowering his voice back to a whisper. "We're rescuing a friend from jail."

"How?"

"The idea is we get in, unlock the cell, and bring him out."

I stared at him, convinced I was getting something wrong. "We're breaking into a jail? Isn't that really, really dangerous? As in a lot of armed guards dangerous?"

He smiled. "Oh yes, you're quite right. There's a barracks next door, too."

I felt like a horrible ailment had crept through my body.

Why did I agree to do this? This is stupid!

Oh right... money. Sometimes, I hate money.

Vallérose arrived soon after. She seemed quite upbeat.

"Friends, I did not expect you to be here so early! I was busy preparing," she spoke, and turned to me. "Violet, it's good that you're here. I 'ave instructions for you." She walked up to us. Bastion got up from the bench, signalling me and Shady to join him. We did, and began to walk as a group on one of the roads leading out of the memorial. Bastion led with Shady, while Vallérose kept behind, with me. "So," she started, "Your first contract. You must be excited to begin."

"Certainly, but I’m scared more than anything else. Aren't we... breaking into a jail?"

"Oui," she replied. "There's not a thing to worry about, Violet. You'll find we're prepared for this. There's a reason we spent so much time on it, and why we're doing it today. It's the day before the execution."

I tilted my head sideways. "Execution?"

"Our locked-up friends are ready for hanging. I wouldn't call the sentence unfair... but they'd be a high cost to lose. You've never saved a pony's life, have you?"

"Well, no. I don't think I have."

Vallé chuckled, while the other two ponies in front walked off to the side, into a building. "This is your opening debut then, the new 'heroine' of Pastur."

She followed the ponies in front, as did I, into an unpleasant tavern. Bastion went up to the bar, while Shady led the two of us to a round, thick, bruised table. The smell of tobacco smoke and rotten vegetables from the farmers nearby was disgusting. Bastion came back levitating mugs of cider, one for each of us.

He looked at me apologetically, bringing mine. "I ordered you the same. I hope that's alright."

"Better than the apple if you want actual flavour," Shady muttered, giving a foul look at the dirty barkeep. He was cleaning mugs, and winked right at her, a grin hidden behind his handlebar moustache.

"Are we ready to begin?" Vallérose asked. "Shady, is there anyone we don't want listening here?"

"Drunkards, pissed off their manes," she spat. "We can talk."

"Good," Vallérose said, grinning. She took out a piece of rough paper from her bag, and spread it out onto the table.

"This, friends, is the map of what we know about the prison. Bastion, if you would like to take over."

He nodded, while Vallé started sipping at her cider. "Certainly. As we can see, this is a map of the prison, and," he said, placing a hoof over the numbered room seventeen, "Our target. Each room with a number is a cell, this one holding Twitch. He's the stallion we're rescuing." Bastion paused, looking to the rest of us sternly. "The right wing is of no importance. The left wing is where we're going, where the stairs are that go to room seventeen." The stallion paused, letting me take a further glance at the map.

"Well, go on then," Shady groaned. "I suppose you'd love to explain your part to the filly."

"I would," he smiled. "I used to be a guard here, Violet. Worked there for five years. Kicked me out for 'misuse of magic'. More the fact I'm a unicorn than anything else, and the new head guard didn't like that one bit." He stood up, placing both hooves either side of the table and drawing his face closer to me. "Thing is, she didn't expect me to work for Sore-Eyes. I can tell a few tips that we wouldn't have a clue about, without me." He took his left hoof off the table and sat down on the edge of his stool. "There are six guards stationed in the prison. Two at the entrance, four inside. Two inside are patrolling cells, the other two stand guard at the hall."

Shady huffed. "Get on with it."

The stallion quickened his pace. "Every two hours, the guards go on break for ten minutes, but only one at a time. It has to be one of the guards on patrol, with the one in the hallway replacing them. This way, there are always two guards patrolling, and at least one guard in the hallway..."

I spoke up. "Sorry, but what's my part in all of this in the first place?"

"You, Violet, are going to enter the building, and rescue Twitch," Bastion said.

I gulped. "How the hay am I going to do that?"

"Easy," he said, pointing to the circled number on the map. "Two ponies distract the guards outside, while another one steals a prison key from one of their pockets." He moved his hoof to the next. "Enter the building through the back window into the locked meeting room. They haven't used it in months."

He grinned at me. "Wait until the guard on the right wing goes on break. Their partner in the hall will go inside the right wing, and you can sneak to the equipment room unnoticed. Next, wait and listen for the guard on the left wing go for break, so you can enter the left wing before they come back. Finally," he said, giving a wicked smile, "sneak up to the second floor, open cell seventeen, and make the grand escape."

"That's... a lot to remember," I said, examining the map. "Are you sure you couldn't have told me this a bit earlier?" It was easy enough to read, but it was going to be a pain to carry out.

Bastion sighed. "When Sore-Eyes wants something confidential, he needs it confidential. We can't risk the plan being passed on."

"And since you're a foal, no doubt you'd go shouting it everywhere," Shady said. "Shame we have to rely on a child to do a mare's job."

I stabbed a glare at her. "Why don't you go do it yourself, then?"

She grit her teeth. "Because. I. Can't."

"Shady is simply too large to fit through the window, without some kind of advanced magic," Bastion said, "And that's completely out of question. The magi in Canterlot wouldn't dare assist us—even if we weren't breaking the law." He paused.

"Are we quite done now? No more questions?" Vallé asked. The others remained silent. I could think of a dozen or more questions about why we were doing it, who we were rescuing and so on, but it didn't seem relevant to the task. I didn't want to waste everypony’s time. Well, nearly everypony, as I glanced at Shady. Vallé rolled up the paper, replacing it in her bag. "Very good. We should go."

"Agreed," said Shady, downing her drink and standing up. The others joined her.

I hadn't touched my drink. I brought it over, and in an attempt to copy Shady, hoisted it over my mouth. Taking a flood of gutter-drink, I choked, and spluttered, quickly slamming the mug on the table.

They looked over, and Vallé called out to me. "Violet! Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Something... caught in my throat," I replied.

Shady stifled a groan, walking out with the others through the door to the tavern. I waited for them to exit before I bucked the mug over the table in revenge, spilling the disgusting contents. I heard a shout from the barkeep, and quickly followed out the door to re-join the others.

* * *

The group took an uncomfortable pace through the streets. I had to trot to keep up with them. I could easily tell when we were close by to the target. A building almost absent of windows lay in front of us. There was a wooden guard tower to the side, a pony awkwardly climbing up a ladder up to it. There were more in the tower, and from what I could see, they were armed. As were the two guards posted outside the entrance of the prison, similar to the map.

The others slowed down the pace. "Right," Bastion said, "Let's get to it."

"I will distract the guard on the right," Vallé said, searching through her bag. "Violet, you distract the one on the left while Shady steals the key. Bastion, you will sneak around the back. Here," she said, passing a vial from her bag. Bastion levitated it out of her grasp. "You know what to do."

"Of course," Bastion said.

"Magnifique. Let's go."

The group dispersed in an almost militaristic fashion, and I was left, walking slowly towards the guard, passing by a group of chatting pegasi as I did so. The stallion-in-question was, as I expected, armoured. Leather straps held curved metal body plates disguised in a cloak, and with a well decorated skullcap to boot, the pony was no pushover. I approached him, and heard Vallé speaking a small distance away.

"'Allo, could you 'elp me? I as dropped here by air-chariot and, well, the pegasi driving didn't give me a clue where to go. I'd love a strong, able stallion to 'elp me."

"Of course, ma'am... please, ask away."

The other stallion was easily enticed. Vallérose was a pretty pony, from her name to her hooves, and everything in-between. I sure as hay couldn't match it. I turned, trying to think of something to say, when I found myself face to face with the other guard. He glared tiredly.

"Excuse me?" the stallion muttered.

"Uh, well," I blurted, my brain switching off. "I, um."

"Yes?"

"I, um, the..."

I had no idea what to say, and from the looks of him, he wasn't happy about it. I gave a look behind him, the staircase leading to the entrance at least double the height of me.

"Uh... (The building!) What are you guarding?" I said, hoping to save myself through pointless questions.

"What are you, a tourist?" the stallion asked. I saw Shady emerge from the crowd, slowly tip-hoofing beside the guard.

"Yeah, yes, I'm a tourist. What is it?"

"The building," he stated blankly, "is a prison. Where bad ponies go."

Shady was beside him, searching through her coat. I needed to keep stalling. "What, er, what sort of bad pony? "

He sighed. "Don't you have somewhere else to be? How about your parents, where are they?"

"They passed away. I, I came here by myself."

"Don't lie to me."

"Find them, and prove me wrong."

"You have a carer, then."

"My offer stands," I retorted.

The guard grumbled to himself. I saw Shady, hidden from the guard, pull out a lock-pick from her cloak.

"Huh," the stallion grunted, "What's your question?"

"What sort of bad ponies do they keep there?"

The stallion brought his pig-like eyes straight into mine. "Bad ponies in the prison?" he grinned. "There's all sorts. Murderers, rapists... some of foals, such as yourself. Take your pick," he said, and brought his grim, snarling face closer. I backed away. "And you know who else? Ponies who waste the guards' time. They don't last long, mind. Maybe a week, two at most. They don't work well with the others."

I could barely speak. The stallion's presence made me feel faint. I saw Shady burst away from his side and drew a quick sigh.

"Uh," I squeaked, "Huh. Well, thanks, but I need to go. Now," I said scuttling away, leaving the guard to his post. He chuckled to himself as I left.

I searched the crowd on the streets, finding the grey pegasus only a short distance away. Shady approached me with the pick in her mouth, and hooked on it, the key. She opened my jacket pocket with a hoof, letting the key drop into it. She spat out the lock-pick to the floor.

"Bastard. He lied as much as you."

I faced her with curiosity. "He, he did?"

"Of course. Takes less than three days to break a foal in prison," she said."

"...Oh." Shady trotted away, leaving me by myself on the semi-busy road.

I brought myself unwillingly to task, thinking back to what Bastion said. "Enter the building through the back window into the locked meeting room." It wouldn't have killed him to be a bit more specific, seeing as I was given about five minutes to look at the map.

I looked towards the prison. I didn't realise it before, but the front had a distinct lack of windows. There were two, both being in the middle building. The other two on the sides were stone all-around. I could guess to where the prisoners were. Locked up, and with no escape through some sort of magic, the prison was made to not be broken into. And I had to break into it.

I climbed over the wall of the courtyard. Before doing so, I made sure that the guards weren't looking. It hadn't occurred to me how far the ponies in the lookout tower had line of sight, but behind the fence I seemed to be just out of view. Nopony was alerted, anyway. I walked around the left wing of the prison, and noticed the tall, concrete wall at an incline on the base of the prison as I moved around it.

I found Bastion at the back, standing next a couple of the only other windows that appeared to be on the prison. Bastion walked up to me cautiously.

"You have the key?" he whispered.

"In my pocket."

"Good. Bring it out."

I fumbled in my pocket for the key, bringing it out, held in my mouth. The unicorn used his magic to levitate the key carefully from my grasp.

"You see," he whispered, "We have to be sure that you don't get caught. Even the sound a key turned in lock makes a sound that could doom you. I'll make sure that doesn't happen," he said, bringing out the vial of clear liquid that he took from Vallérose before. "This," he said, "is muffling solution. It's somewhat similar to an invisibility potion, though, instead of taking away what you see, it takes away what you hear."

I looked at him doubtfully. "Couldn't I just have an invisibility potion?"

He snorted. "It's not that easy, Violet. You can't just drink it. This entire vial is for the key. Besides, an invisibility potion is a near impossible feat for most brewers. It takes years to craft." He open the top of the vial, and placed the key inside, bathing it. The key absorbed the liquid, turning a shade lighter. "We would give your hooves the same treatment, but we'd need a pool of the stuff. These, on the other hoof, should do just as well," he said, pulling out several stringy, furry pieces of fabric after placing the key back in my pocket.

"What are those?" I asked.

He smiled. "Socks! Don't worry, they're quite comfortable, and they'll hide your hoofsteps well." He gave them to, and fit them on, one over each hoof.

I looked down at them with dismay. "These look ridiculous."

He laughed, annoyingly. "I think they look great on you."

"So are you going to keep laughing, or am I going to rescue this prisoner?" I grumbled.

"Of course, of course. As long as you know what to do when you're in there, we're absolutely ready for step two."

"Wait for the guards to go, get to the cell, release him."

"Wonderful," he said, his horn lighting up. It occurred to me that while he told me the plan before, he never told me how I was meant to get in through the window in the first place. I was about to ask him the question when, out of nowhere, I stopped feeling the ground beneath my hooves.

Looking down, I realised that I wasn't on the ground anymore, and was instead hovering slightly above it. Bastion's horn glowed a stronger orange as I floated close to the wall, towards the window. I grabbed for it, as the magic around me started to fade. "You... got it?" I heard Bastion say, struggling slightly.

"Yeah, I'm up."

The aura around me glimpsed out. Seconds later, the window opened, and the stallion who was now at least ten feet below me whispered what I was only just able to hear as "Good luck," before moving me through the other side of the wall, and closing the window.

* * *

I was left in the dark, an interior source of light being absent. Seeing how lit-up a room with a window was, I wasn't expecting much better from the rest. The room was long, dominated by thin benches that were each stretched almost from wall to wall. At the end where the window was I saw a podium, while the opposite had a door, the only 'proper' exit. It was made of metal, with glass and bars adorning the upper half, and a keyhole at my eye-height. Cupboards and shelves were placed oddly at the sides, so as to let ponies walk through without having to jump over the benches. It seemed strangely tame for a prison.

I walked up to the door carefully, making sure not to make a sound. I couldn't look out the window, and frankly didn't want to—it seemed like a bad idea. I pressed my ear to the door, trying to hear anything outside. There was a mumble, nothing I could understand clearly, coming from somewhere further down closer to where the entrance of the prison would be.

A noise from behind startled me. I turned around, only to hear it again, and again. As I focused on it, it sounded more like the continuous hitting of metal, like iron, or steel. It wasn't coming from the room I was in, and was coming instead through the walls. Where the left wing of the prison was, and somewhere, my target.

I waited for a while, leaning into the door and listening. I scoured my mind. I was supposed to wait for a guard to move, or something? The map would have been a great thing to actually bring in with me, so I could understand where everything was much easier.

Suddenly I heard a door, and a voice with it.

"I'm afraid there's nothing we can do. The disappearances happened without a trace of the culprit."

It came from the same direction as the mumble I heard before, and I made it out to be a mare. She stopped, and another pony started talking from further away. I couldn't make them out, and soon, the mare started up again.

"Well, no. Besides. We have a large array of criminals already locked up. One might even be the one you're looking for. But we don't do revenge here. Now, if you'll excuse me." Soon after I heard a high, piercing whistle, and the mare say "Tell the colt it's his break."

Another voice from the other side of the door answered. "Aye, ma'am." There was a loud creak, as the door on the other side opened. Hoofsteps followed, along with the chink of keys. A moment later, and the creak returned, presumably as the door closed. I waited a few moments before getting the courage to jump up, and peek through the window. There was a metal door without a window, and no guard.

I quickly turned to my pocket, and took hold of the key, placing it swiftly into the lock mechanism. I turned my head with the key in firm grip. As Bastion told me, the key was silent, and I could barely notice it opening until a quick 'clink' from inside the door. I slowly opened the door, hoping nopony had heard it. I found myself in a hallway. It stretched on from where I was to a large door at the end, with smaller ones populating the sides. I thought back to Bastion's plan. Sneak to the equipment room unnoticed.

Walking out of the meeting room, I slowly crept to one of the doors, marked 'Evidence', only stepping on the tops and bottoms of the planks of wood below me. It was a trick I'd learnt in the orphanage, and it stopped the planks from creaking. I approached the door silently, and took a brief look around before entering. There were two parts I hadn't explored; the end of the hallway, where I expected the entrance to be, and a diversion off the main hallway, where I thought the entrance to the other wing was. It was stationed by a guard, but I couldn't see them, and neither could they see me from where I was standing. Satisfied, I stuck the key into the lock, turned it, and entered the other room, closing the door behind me.

I my ears lowered instinctively as I entered. The room was a killer's paradise.

Bloodied knives, canes, sabres, even a few guns and many more different items were stored on shelves, each tagged by a small piece of paper roped by the side. I examined one of the papers next to a leather flask, the deficiency of light causing me to go much closer than I would've liked. The paper had text, seemingly written by hoof. "05/05, 40, poison." It confused me initially, but after seeing a few more similar numbers on other pieces of paper around the room, the connection dawned on me.

This was the 'Evidence' room, where the weapons of the prisoners were stored. The number on the left was the day and month, clearly, while the word, or phrase on the right was the method used. The number in the middle confused me a little at first. It was the room number, and took me a while to realise it.

I searched the room, eventually finding the piece of paper marked "17". It was placed next to a short, sleek dagger with a thin blade. There was a marking I'd seen before—three diamonds, etched into the hilt. Alongside it were two pieces of silvery metal with numerous bite marks on them.

My search through the evidence room was cut short, as I heard a door and a different voice from outside.

"Yer break's over, Crest. Get to yer station, now."

"Already?"

I heard some more movement behind. Aiming to peek out to see what was happening, I readied myself to jump at the door...

...Until I realised that it wasn't fully closed. A slit of light emanated from the opening, and I backed down at the last second, slamming a hoof on my face for not closing it properly. Nopony outside noticed, thankfully. There was the sound of movement outside, doors opening, closing. I waited a while longer until the hallway was again silent. Taking my chance, I took a look outside.

The hallway was empty, though I heard a sniff from far to my right near the entrance to the right wing. The guard had returned to his post, and everything was seemingly according to plan. I turned off the hallway carefully, finding another metal door without a window. It was unguarded, though I could hear voices inside. I took my chances, and placed the key in the door, turning it without a clink. The final stage, I thought.

The door opened, and the voice of a loud, angry mare shouted out. "You lot," she said, making me shudder, "sicken me. I have to spend hours guarding a bloody door, day by day, and you can hardly shut up. This baton is a weapon, you know! A weapon I can lawfully beat you with. Yet you continue. Idiots."

I opened the door carefully to slip in, making sure to stay silent.

The room was a cold mass of prison cells, each barred like the vault back at the manor, with four domed light sources cornering the room. Inside each cell were two to three prisoners, ponies of each kingdom, as well as other species. I saw a few zebra in one cell. Most of the inmates were bashing their hooves against the bars repeatedly, infuriating the dark green mare wearing uniform near some of the cells directly in front of me, past a table and chairs in the middle of the room.

She was facing the opposite direction to me, towards a couple of dirty-clothed unicorns. I saw her hit one of them with her baton, striking vertically to fit through the bars. A howl of pain cried from the cell, while one the unicorns cried out.

"We're dead anyway, wench. If we can piss you off, it's all the better."

"Then I shall beat you 'til your hooves are limb. I have all the 'morrow for it, don't you worry," she replied, wailing on the prisoners. She was preoccupied, however brutal she was. In the safety of discretion, away from the public, the guards were hardly any better than the criminals. It gave me a chance to find the right cell. There were two staircases leading up to the second floor on either side of the wing. I knew for a fact that seventeen was up there, and I snuck towards the staircase.

A couple of the prisoners saw me, turning their heads, and raising their eyebrows in shock. I looked back and raised a hoof to my mouth, signalling for them to be quiet. They didn't seem to get the message. "Oi," The one prisoner, and earth pony stallion shouted out. "Oi, prison wench. Yer end is closer than yer think."

The mare sheathed her baton, and approached the other cell, as I rushed hurriedly up the staircase. "Blank threats aren't your way out of a cell, rat," the mare growled, unsheathing her baton.

"Maybe so," the stallion replied, recoiling. "But 'ow about the real ones?"

I raced up the rest of the stairs, the sounds of my hooves muffled by my socks. I looked above each cell, finding their numbers. My eyes soon dawned on number seventeen. It was a large cell, maybe even a bit dirtier than the rest, with stains I'd rather not ask about splayed on the cell floor. I walked closer, and noticed three prisoners.

One was another earth pony with dark blue fur, sat with her eyes closed. I had no idea what the others were, both curled up in balls on the other side of the cell. Some kind of strange creature, resembling the size of a pony, but not much else. I approached the cell, and tapped the bars with a hoof, trying to get some attention. "Hello?"

The creatures stayed asleep, while the pony woke up. She looked at me for a moment, straining her green eyes.

"Oh, hello there," she said, casually. "They don't usually let the guard's foals in the prison."

"I'm not a guard. I was sent here by Mister Silt, of Hoofsplit Manor, to rescue you, uh... Twitch?"

"Huh," she said. "Huh, huh, huh." She proceeded to turn around. "That's quite good news. Worms!" she shouted, waking up the two creatures, "Look what we have here. Beautiful, isn't she?" The dog-like creatures looked at me, and grunted.

I moved forward to the cell lock, and after a quick turn, unlocked the cell. I stepped back as the door moved towards me. The blue earth pony stood up, scuffing her hooves on the floor. "You have an escape plan, then?" she asked.

"An escape plan?" I repeated. "Um, the escape plan, right." I scoured my brain for what Bastion had said about it, but it didn't come up.

It was never there in the first place.

The escape wasn't explained to me... at all.

* * *

The crowd below and around us continued to fill the room with noise, while the guardsmare added to it by shouting at them. Twitch didn't seem to be angry with me, barely expressing emotion on her rugged face. "Not a clue?" she asked. "Nada?"

"I, I was never about told it," I said apologetically. The eyes of the two dog-like creatures were on me, filled with malice.

One stepped towards me. "The child is useless! Without a plan, how are we—"

"Shut it, worm," Twitch said calmly, hitting the canine with a hoof to the snout. "You don't seem to realise that we can make one." She turned to me. "Be a dear, and bring the key out, would you?"

I did as she asked, pulling the key silently from the lock. Twitch stepped out of cell seventeen. She cleared her throat noisily.

The other prisoners on the second floor, previously joining in to annoy the guard, turned their attention to Twitch. Half of them showed faces besmirched with shock, while the others came closer to the bars of the cells, aching for a better look.

"Wretches!" Twitch cried. "The filly has the key."

Before I had a chance to think, I felt a horrible pain in my teeth. The key I was holding was glowing multiple colours, and shoved itself forcefully out my mouth. The key flew across the room, first to a cell door on the other side of the wing. It landed in the lock, opening it. The key flew again afterwards, going from cell to cell. By the time the mare in uniform climbed the staircase, the prisoners outside grossly outnumbered her, stretching their hooves and necks at the terrified pony.

She stood at the top with eyes glassed over, staring at Twitch. "You! You... Help! GUARDS!" The mare turned, and raced down the staircase. I heard her bashing at the doors shortly after.

"Somepony, open the door!"

The ponies upstairs followed her, while the ones below began floating the key to each lock. Twitch turned to me. "See? Easy. Now, you."

She turned away from me, and faced a cell next to her own. There was a stallion inside, shaking in the corner. "You, are coming with me."

"You... you're one of his, aren't you? Sore-Eyes Silt... you aren't going to kill me, are you?"

"No," Twitch answered, "Not yet. It depends, really."

"On what?" the dark furred stallion asked.

"Whether you do your job right." Twitch gestured a hoof to the stallion. He stood up uneasily, and moved reluctantly out of his cell. She turned back to me. "Well, Violet? What are you waiting for?"

I looked quizzically towards her, seeing her head low to the floor. "Huh?"

"Run."

Without a word of warning she thrust her head into my stomach, taking my hooves clean off the floor.

Unbalanced, I fell over backwards onto the hard metal staircase behind me. The prison wing spun around me every step, finally stopping as I hit the cold floor.

I tried to shout back at her, ask why in Equestria she did it, but it was no use. I couldn't even hear myself. Shaking my head, I opened my eyes to see the prison ceiling.

A leg shot out from above me. I rolled, barely missing the hoof crashing into my face. My roll getting me back on my hooves, I scurried out of the direct route out of the wing, close by a door to the laundry room.

Chaos erupted throughout the prison. The metal door that restrained everypony was open, the guardsmare nowhere to be seen. The table and chairs that once stood in the middle were flipped over, the glass domes around the room smashed. I looked up to the second floor, or what I could see of it, to locate Twitch and her company. I couldn't. I was a young mare alone in a prison break. I needed to get out. I turned to heavily populated door, took a deep breath, and galloped.

I was pushed, and shoved, but eventually squeezed out. The hallway was full with ponies. Some went the wrong way, to the other wing of the prison. Others ran for the two rooms in front, one being the evidence room, while the other seemed to be the prison's armoury. The others charged through the doors of the entrance, oblivious to each other as they recklessly ran for freedom. I dared not even attempt the front door.

I needed somewhere to think, or perhaps wait out the stream of prisoners. Finding the perfect moment, I ran for one of the few rooms the rest weren't charging at, a bit right of where I got out of the wing. The door was open, and through good timing I wasn't hurt by the others.

The room itself was nothing special, a small restroom, though it had something the others lacked. I placed my hooves in the basin of the sink, climbing up steadily. Once I was up, I could look out the window.

The street was ravaged by a fight. The prisoners were charging out to meet the soldiers outside, using blunt weapons and even... muskets, shooting out into the crowd. The prisoners weren't any better, some using the weapons they'd taken from inside.

I looked down. below the window was a long jump. It looked possible, but it'd hurt.

I had no choice. The front would outright kill me, and coming out here, the courtyard wall would keep me safe from the sight of anyone dangerous.

My choice was final. I opened the window, pulled my way through, pressed my head against my barrel and let go, my back facing the hopefully soft ground beneath.

Thud.

I log-rolled further than I wanted. My body tumbled down the incline of the prison, straight into the courtyard wall. It took me a moment to get back to my senses.

I brushed grass and dirt off me as I stood. My head ached, and I owned a few bruises, but suffered no major injuries.

The prison was at a constant volume, and pitch, while the outside was much different. My ears seemed to numb from the lack of horribly loud noise, and I could hear much more. The shouts and roars were still there, merged, but there were different voices in the distance. They sounded like orders, shouted by an officer. Then there were the guns. The sounds of muskets pierced through the air. The sound of many hooves on a path followed it. Time to get going.

I cantered beside the wall, finding an alternative way out the back. I found the windows outside where I'd come in from. The wall was climbable, as I'd done so before, though it took some effort. I hoisted myself over the top, onto the stone-crafted street. I galloped over the other side, dodging out the way of passing ponies. On my way I found another street stretching out away from the prison. I followed it. The sounds of fighting grew distant, and sure enough, I escaped the conflict.

* * *

It was a fair time before I returned to Hoofsplit House. More and more members of the law shot past me as I travelled, heading to the scene. The shouting and commotion slowly died as I found my way to the richer houses, and was all but gone by the time I reached the gardens of the manor.

I knocked on the door. The butler answered, hesitating before opening the door for me.

"Could you... get Mister Silt for me, please?"

He nodded, ringing the chime seconds after. I walked into the foyer, waiting patiently.

Soon after I saw Mr Silt as he appeared from the top of the stairs. He was closely followed by the butler, as well as the mare at the prison, Twitch. She grinned as she saw me.

"Well done," Mr Silt laughed, "Very well done, Miss Violet. You did exactly as I asked. My colleague here is safe, and so is her captive." He paused as he touched the foyer floor. "I'll go to the vault to get your pay. You've earned it."

I bowed my head, trying not to look at the mare. "Thank you."

The stallion left at a pace to the hallway, leaving Twitch behind. I turned to see her pulling fiendish grin.

"What was that for? Why in Tartarus did you hit me?"

"I was saving you the trip."

"You almost killed me!"

"But I... didn't. I don't see the problem here," she said, slanting her head. "You did me a favour, and I did you one by not killing you. You said it yourself." She whipped her navy-blue tail in my face, and walked towards the living room. "Enjoy your gold, Violet."

I could feel the anger boiling up inside me. I committed myself to forgetting her, turning towards the hallway to follow Mr Silt. Walking on, I was blocked by Bastion coming out of another room. He spotted me instantly.

"Violet, there you are! You did a great job, by the way. I heard about the jail-break. Was the way back alright?"

"You could have told me," I muttered.

"Told you what?"

"The escape plan?"

The unicorn's face went a shade paler. "You, you weren't told? I didn't say? How'd you get out?"

"Through a window, after almost getting trampled to death."

"Oh! I didn't mean to... no, please, come inside," he said, motioning into the room he was half-way out of exiting. He rushed in himself as I walked behind him. It appeared to be his office. I waited reluctantly by the door, while he began to ravage through a drawer, throwing out papers and old scrolls.

He brought out another map accompanied by a few scribblings and hovered it in front of me. "See?" he said, keeping it still so I could read it. "I had your escape planned as skilfully as your entrance. The kitchen in the left wing has a pantry which goes to a secret entrance, a drop to the sewers through a broken wall. You'd knock out the patrolling guard, or sneak past, and from there on you and you accomplices could find a way down, up and out." He dropped the map, and made a quick trot towards me. "I thought you could use the prisoners escaping as a distraction," Bastion whined.

"I did."

"But you needed to! The five of you could hardly stand up against a regiment. I let you down... on your first contract, no less." He sat down on a chair, pulling a hoof to his face.

A short while after he brought down the hoof, and looked me straight in the eye. "Violet, this shall be the last time I fail you. I promise."

"So... what were those questions?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I'd be wasting your time. Go to Sore-Eyes, get your pay."

"I could spare a minute."

He looked to me. "It'd take longer than that. Please, go ahead. If you still want to afterwards, you'll find me here."

I turned around. I walked out, closing the door behind me, and journeyed down the route to the vault.

Before long I found the metal door in the hallway, wide open. Clip-clopping inside, I found Mr Silt, holding a small sack in his mouth. Once he noticed me, he placed it on the table. "Your reward," he said. "I sincerely hope you like it."

I ambled towards the table. Once there, I opened the sack. I thought it'd a quarter, or half full of bits. To my surprise, the whole thing was full to the brim of the golden currency. I couldn't believe it. It was probably more than we'd made for the last half a year or so. I'd just made it in a day. "...Thank you."

"No, thank you. Your work impresses me Miss Violet. You can be sure that I'll need it again."

* * *

I turned in the hallway, entering Bastion's office. "Please," he said, "Sit." I dropped my sack of bits down on the drawer, and resting on a nearby chair.

"I began looking around. The furniture was, as with the rest of the room, elegantly decorated. There was a painting on the wall of a couple of ponies, one about the same age as me. To the opposite lay a bed.

"You live here, I take it?"

"I do. Old Mister Silt pays well, well enough for me to rent this," he took a glimpse at my money on the drawer, "as you know."

"What did you want to ask?"

"Well, I wanted to know more about you," he stated. "You're new here, and you're certainly something else. I can say for a fact that I couldn't do what you did at your age. You didn't hesitate, you didn't stumble..." I huffed at 'stumble', "...You did your job, something nopony could've done without you. Sorry, were you going to say something?"

"Nothing. It's nothing, carry on," I muttered.

"You know what I used to be. A guard, an upstander of the law, turned, well, criminal I suppose, and a mediocre cartographer."

"Cartpgraher?"

"Map-maker. But what about you? How did you start out?"

I... I've been stuck in an orphanage most of my life. I guess I sort of learned how to be sneaky, and how to be quick on my feet. Once we escaped, I just sort of honed my skills on the streets with my friends. I don't have a clue why he took me in."

"Heh, I was surprised when he called me, too," Bastion chuckled. "He has his reasons for doing things. This orphanage, is it the one in Pastur?"

"Yes."

"Huh... quaint." He paused, looking at nothing in particular.

"There's... one other thing I wanted to ask you about, Violet. It's about the day you first came here. I was in my room when I saw the butler, Felltree, taking a pillow past across in the direction of the parlour. It hardly crossed my mind, but as I sat back to work, I saw him again a few minutes later. He was holding a healing potion and going at quite a pace. ere for you, weren't they?"

"Yes, those were for me," I replied anxiously.

"From my experience here, health potions are for only the most wounded of ponies—they are difficult to brew, and we only have, well, had one potion-master. What happened to you?"

"I'd rather not say."

Bastion looked at my earnestly, his grin gone. "I understand. It's alright."

"It's... not that," I said, seeing his expression. "I don't want Mister Silt to know. He was so kind to me, and I'd hate for that to end."

It was a mad assumption that he'd hate me for it, and I knew it. But what if he would? What if, in a group of seemingly thief-like ponies, killing was a deed to get kicked out for? I had some scepticism on it, especially with Twitch. She was clearly a loose cannon. The others of the group seemed to be nothing more but than a more mature version of myself, and my friends. They'd hate to hear that I killed somepony.

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you."

"If that's how you feel," Bastion said. "...That's it. Sorry for wasting your time."

"No... I didn't mind. Really." I rose from my chair and walked to the door. I turned to the stallion. "Goodbye Bastion."

He looked up at me, sat in his chair. "Goodbye, Violet. Make sure to visit while you're waiting for the next contract. I'm sure it'll be a while."

"Sure," I said, leaving the stallion to himself as I trotted out through the hallway.

* * *

I didn't know what to think of myself as I left the house. Was I really a 'heroine' releasing prisoners who'd been taken in by law? It was a weird world of morality down in the depths of the city. The folk legends of ponies doing brave, and 'honourable' deeds for the queen and her court were laughable. Who'd kill a dragon without a cut of the loot?

Mrs Goldheart answered the door as I returned to the boarding house. She looked terrified.

"Come in, Miss Violet, quickly. You don't know how lucky you are to be home."

She pushed me in, and walked me towards my room. I couldn't speak, as I held Silt's money between my teeth. "Horrible things have happened. Did you hear the guns? It's not safe outside Miss Violet, not tonight."

My friends in the other room were ecstatic when I came back with a sack full of gold. Even Ying was wide-eyed as he stared at me through my entrance to the room, him and all the others. I threw it on the table, bits spreading across a small distance.

"But," I said, as my friends gawked at table, the foals joining in to see what all the commotion was about, "I can't take this all for myself. I may have made it, but I just don't think it'd be useful to all be spent on one mare. So I'm sharing it with all of you. We need meals more than I need a fancy hairdo."

We had dinner with Mrs Goldheart that night, and soon went to sleep. I was surprised that there wasn't a pony who asked where I'd got the money from, only knowing what Cinders told them about it. Not even a glance towards a connection between my appearance and Mrs Goldheart's fear. The money must've drowned it out.

* * *

The next day was a like a long-standing burden gone. I'd done the task. It was over, at least for a while. I had time to relax. I thought over accomplishment as I laid on my bed, one leg stretched out while the other was bent. My fore-hooves were at the back of my head, boosting it up so I could see easily around the room.

I heard tapping on the floor, as Parable walked over to me. "Violet," she said, "I'm going out for a walk with the foals and, well, would you like to come along?"

I hadn't talked with Parable for a while. She was much more open after she changed jobs, and I was pleasantly surprised to get to take advantage of it. "Sure, I'd love to," I said, smiling back. I brought my hooves out from under my head, and rolled off the bed. She was waiting beside me, her jacket already on. It wasn't long before I was up, and ready. We went off and out of the boarding house quietly, hoping not to alert Mrs Goldheart. She wasn't around, but with all the foals we had to be extra careful not to wake her up. Once we tiptoed out, Parable led me out and towards the market, the foals ambling in front of us.

Parable turned to me with a smirk. "She was like that for a while before you got back. Nopony knows why. Do you know what happened?"

"There was an escape down at the prison."

She stopped, placing a hoof on her mouth. "A.. an escape? That's horrible," she gasped.

"Well—yeah, yeah it was," I said, not wanting to dig myself into it.

"Why didn't you say? We were locked up all evening, we didn't have a clue! Mis'ess Goldheart didn't say a word about it. Oh, but she was right keeping us safe. What if they're still out?" She hurriedly stepped a few paces in front of me. "Colts! Fillies! Come back!"

"Parable," I laughed, "Calm down. Any pony with half a brain would've galloped away as far from Pastur as possible by now. The others would've been caught ages ago. Besides, why would they care about a few of us? We're as safe as we'll ever be."

"Really? Well, if you say so..."

"I do,"

Parable started walking again, and soon after she began to talk. "So what were you doing yesterday, Violet? If you don't mind me asking. Nopony, not even Cinders has a clue."

"Uh... I'm afraid I can't say. It's a secret."

"Were you near the prison when they escaped?"

"Near enough to hear it," I said, looking away.

"You're lucky to be alive."

"Huh. yeah... what about you? How was your day?"

"Oh!" Parable cried, "It was great. Me and the foals did all sorts of lovely things together. We went out the city!"

"Out the city?" I exclaimed. "Where'd you go?"

"We snuck out next to a travelling troupe. We couldn't be seen alone by the watch or they'd question us, and we," she broke off mid sentence, darting her head to the side of the street. "Did you see that?"

"What?" I asked.

"T-that box! It was moving." She pointed a hoof over to a back entrance of some house.

In the back there was, as she said, a box, the height and width of a tree trunk. It didn't appear to be moving to me.

"It's just your imagination, Parable. Don't worry about it."

"It's not my imagination. I saw it move, twice! Come on, look at it a bit longer."

I decided to humour her. We both headed off to the side, the foals still playing in back in front, while I trod in closer to the box, examining it. I retained my doubts, seeing the box as still as any other inanimate object. But a little while in I was proven wrong. There was a rumble, as the container jumped up in the air by an inch, placing it at an odd angle. The box went on to reposition itself, shuffling across the floor. I didn't know what to say.

"What do you think it is? What if it's a unicorn's spell gone wrong?" Parable said.

"I, I don't know," I said, taking another look. The box had stopped. "Maybe there's something under it?"

"Could you check? Try knocking it over."

I sighed. "If this thing bites me..." I said, cautiously bringing myself closer. I hovered a hoof close to the edge. Bracing myself, I threw a swift kick onto the box, toppling it over the now visible contents.

I and Parable gasped at seeing a small, brown and white colt, his head resting on the pavement, as skinny as half a foal his size. He opened his frightened eyes, and stared right back at me.

Chapter VII: Cloven Hoof

Chapter VII

CLOVEN HOOF

The foal's name was peculiar... Lollard. We nursed him back to health, with Parable at the helm. We asked where he lived so we could bring him back.

Lollard told us he'd been scavenging off the streets for "days and nights," later telling us it was just over a week or so, at a guess, since he last went home. It started at school, when his parents didn't come back for him. He wasn't a stupid colt, and he knew the way back on his own. It didn't do him any help. His house was locked. He was stuck without anypony for the whole night.

A few days later, nothing changed. They never came back, his parents gone. His mother already left before, his father telling him she was on 'business', but he was gone too? Nopony would take him in. He'd been moving street by street, and said he was living in the same box for a couple of days 'til we found him.

We didn't get much more out of the colt. Even that took us a few days. The colt was terrified silent of us for the first few days, though Parable persisted to let him stay. We weren't in a desperate situation, so why not? We had half a years worth of food to buy before we'd run out, and the colt would likely perish without us.

The days after his arrival were almost eventless. I even bought a newspaper, thinking I'd actually learn to read the whole thing. Cinders told me she'd move me up to 'Novels', and 'Autobiographies' later. I didn't like the sound of either of them, at the time. Ponies change.

The newspaper described the events of the prison-break, even showing an artist's depiction. There were a hundred and sixty-four prisoners that escaped, and of those, one hundred-and-twelve were found, caught or killed. The others were still on the run. Three of those on the run were technically my boss's employees. One being a complete psychopath. I shuddered, thinking what the other runaways were like.

The news was depressing, at the heart of it. Never shone a light at the happier stuff. I couldn't stay cooped inside any longer, so I took a trip out., I decided to take on Bastion's offer to visit Hoofsplit on my off time.

I visited twice. He welcomed me gratefully, and we'd talk for hours. He asked me more about my life at the orphanage, and my life in general. He was fascinated, spinning a couple of his own tales, too.

He told me stories of the prisoners he used to see, how innocent some came off as, and how deadly the others were. He even told me a bit about politics. Apparently, the earth pony and unicorn queendoms were friends, while the seemingly 'evil' pegasi at the borders were plotting to take over, something like that. I didn't pay enough interest to understand fully.

Whenever Shady passed by, she'd huff at us, glaring an angry eye at Bastion as she trotted past the room. This seemed to be usual behaviour at the manor. Shady was acting sulky every time I saw her.

I didn't take much from his lessons and tales, much less than he'd like me to, though some of it stuck. A few days later, I heard about an execution, the victim none other than a pegasus republic spy. The same sort that Bastion spoke of. I had to investigate for myself.

* * *

"Here, today, we find another who besmirches the name of their tribe. We know pegasi who work, help us using the talents unique to their tribe. This, is not one such pegasi."

The voice boomed over the crowd gathered around the square, her voice magically altered to be heard through the area, louder than the jeering of the populace watching. I could barely see the mare in question, the taller adults blocking my view.

Shifting aside, I found a small, tiny hole throughout the crowd, enough to see the pony next to the spy. He was a stallion, covered in dark fur that barely reflected the light of day. He wore a wrinkled three-cornered hat, aged similar to the stallion.

I couldn't see the speaker, though I could hear her voice clearly.

"Such cowards who would take to plotting. Make no mistake, it is the pegasus republic that sends us these scoundrels. Their council does not explain themselves for these acts of treachery. We must make sure that these scoundrels are dealt with, come when they may."

She paused a moment, then spoke in a much quieter voice. "Though the queendom of earth is merciful, is it not? You have a choice, and this shall be the last time I ask. You may keep your silence, stay true to your false promises and die in front of us now. Or, you may agree to tell your master's scheme, keeping your life to return home. What do you say?"

There was no voice. The crowd quietened down to listen, but the results were fruitless. The pegasus, still unseen from my view, was ready to keep her silence to the grave.

"Very well," the mare's voice stated after an awkwardly long pause. "Soldier, on my mark." I saw the stallion raise his right foreleg up, aiming forwards with a small contraption built on a hoofbrace around his knee. The mare counted down, "Three, two, one..." the stallion picked something up with his mouth, too small to be seen.

"...Mark."

Cheers echoed throughout the square, seconds after the shot rung and echoed off the buildings close by. Soon after, the crowd clapped their hooves, applauding the deed. I winced at the uproar, turned away from the crowd and began to walk out. As I exited the scene, I ran into a familiar face, yelping her name in surprise. "Vallé!"

"You are one of the strangest, youngest ponies I know," she smirked. I noticed her attire, a flamboyant dress in white and green with a large bag on her side. "What brings you 'ere, of all places?"

"I could ask you the same," I replied. "What's the get-up for?"

"I was sent for you," she said letting wandering ponies pass by her, them staring at her for a moment before passing by, "for your next assignment. I 'ope you are ready for it."

I'd been bearing with a lack of any new contracts for a while, and was initially surprised at the mention of it. "Nopony told me anything about this before. When, and where?"

"We're meeting up at The Point. You can finish what you're doing now, but I wouldn't keep anypony waiting much longer."

" 'The Point'?"

"You don't know?" She asked, pulling a puzzled look. "It's a big part of the underworld here. Close to Fetlock Avenue. You've never been there?"

I searched my mind, lacking results. "...You wouldn't mind giving directions, would you?"

She smiled. "It's no problem, Violet. I was planning on leaving for it right after I was done finding where you were. I've always found travelling a lot more fun with two."

I bowed my head grinning, letting her lead on. She took us out of the crowds and on a road splintering away from the execution square. It was, admittedly, quite relieving to get away from the grim scene. Being next to a member of Silt's group was actually comforting, knowing I could talk to her. "So... what's up with Shady?" I asked. "Is she always so moody?"

"Moody? It's part of her nature, and Shady's always been the same on the outside. I admit, she's had more reason to act moody in the past week," Vallé muttered. "The execution is the icing on the cake, really."

The execution, I thought. "Did Shady know the spy, or something?"

"Perhaps," she replied, slowing her pace to talk at my side. "Shady used to be a pegasus spy a long, long time ago, before anypony joined Silt's entourage, save his butler. Shady was sent at first like the others, to find out about the earth pony queendom, and its weaknesses."

She paused a moment, turning suddenly to the right across another road. Almost going the wrong way, I corrected myself, before hastily trotting back alongside her. "Sorry."

Vallé grinned. "It's not a problem. I should pay more attention to where we're going than to our history lesson."

I didn't want her to stop. Knowing a bit about my colleagues' past piqued my curiosity, and as we went past the old temple, I spoke up. "What happened, with Shady? Why'd she join Silt?"

"You are an inquisitive foal, aren't you?" she laughed.

"Hardly a foal," I glared. "A foal wouldn't break into a prison, or watch an execution at her own will."

"Fair play," she smirked. "Shady was different from the other spies they send. She was given another task; to kill the richest pony in the kingdom, levelling the playing field, so to speak. The pegasi republic's council is known for it's competitive nature towards the other queendoms. She was sent to Pastur, and not a day later, she found where Silt lived. 'Er quick nature was left unrewarded. Rich ponies don't keep their mansions unprotected. The plan was foiled deep the night following, when she was 'it unaware by a trap. Shady was found by Pastur guards, who sent 'er to the square. Before she was shot, the execution was stopped by Silt. 'E spared Shady, in exchange for 'er everlasting service to 'im."

"Wow," I exclaimed, Vallé simply nodding at my shock. "So... what's her problem with me, then?"

"Don't worry about that, Violet. She's a pegasi, born and raised in Cloudsdale. Made to 'ate, or at the least thoroughly dislike the other tribes. She'll lighten up on you, as much as she did with everypony else. Just the matter of mixing in, is all."

"I see," I said, looking at the end of the road. "Say, if you know so much about ponies like Shady, why don't you ever talk about yourself? What's your story?"

"Oh, it's not nearly as interesting," she laughed. "Besides, I'm a lot more comfortable talking behind the backs of friends that don't know than I am about myself."

"Go on. I've already heard a bit about Mister Silt and Bastion, and I bet he's said a ton about me."

"How about the mare you saved, Twitch? 'Ers' is a fascinating story."

"I'd rather shoot myself in the back of the neck than hear anymore about that bitch," I uttered. She smirked without a word at my sentiment, and hastened to the front again.

A few minutes passed where there was no exchange, aside from the clip-clopping of hooves on the road. The houses to the sides of me changed as we trotted on. It was steady, but noticeable, how the houses packed ever more closer. How the stone and brick changed to coloured, chipped wood. How the rooftops above seemed to be steadily blocking more and more of the sky, making the surroundings grim, and dark.

Even the ponies were altered. They were darker clothed, as well as darker eyed, from what seemed like sleep deprivation. They wandered by, taking less interest in where they were going than they did in the well-dressed mare in front, and disturbingly, me. I tried not to look back as they stared, some half stumbling over themselves as they changed their route to get the best look of us.

Vallé slowed down, letting my catch up next to her side again. "We're close," she said calmly. "Don't let your guard down, and stay near me. You don't want to get lost here."

Our trot turned to a walk, as we passed through the dim street. There were eyes watching us from every angle. Feeling uncomfortable, I averted my gaze upwards. In a second floor room, there was a filly, much younger than myself. She was staring at us like the rest, but soon closed shut the curtains after I looked at her.

The atmosphere was... creepy. I turned to face the ground, looking down at mine and Vallés back hooves. I felt a lot more comfortable doing so, even if a bit of dust flew into my face. It wasn't normal dust. It had an unfamiliar smell to it, mixed in with what smelled like smoked tobacco. I sniffed at it a couple of times, trying to make it out. Vallé pushed into me as I did so, giving a disapproving frown. We moved on.

"Here," she said, pointing a hoof to a dark alley between two buildings. "We're meeting here. Quickly now."

I sped up, as did she, avoiding a few zombie-like ponies shambling along the pavement stone with large grins on their faces. We entered the dark, becoming clearer as I got further through. The walls were visible, and at the end, two ponies. Bastion was sitting on all fours with a slight but noticeable shake, while Shady was as far away from him as possible in a corner, perched on a box.

Bastion stood up once he saw the both of us. "Friends," he said, "you should aim to get to the meeting place a bit earlier. We've been standing here for what, fifteen minutes! And in this dreadful abomination of a district, no less."

"Like I said," the darkly dressed Shady muttered, "welcome to The Point. What else is new."

"I've gone here before Shady, but it isn't a nice place, is it?"

"Stop whining." She turned to us. "Vallé, what's the plan here?"

The purple mare unclipped the bag from her side, letting it fall onto the ground freely.

"Our task is to learn the plans of a gang, the Cloven Hoof. The information we could gather here is near vital to Mister Silt. We've chosen to go for a more 'direct' approach. The top members of the gang are at a party 'ere in Fetlock. Two of us shall disguise as party guests to find out any of their plans. The other two will stand guard outside."

"That explains the dress," Bastion said. "Who're you going to the party with?"

"You," Vallé replied. "I thought that'd be easy enough to work out."

"I see. I suppose Shady would be a bad candidate for a, uh, 'higher class' member, no offence."

"Damn right," Shady said bluntly.

Vallérose dug into her bag, soon taking out what looked to be fine, navy blue clothing. She brought it over to Bastion, and he levitated it from her grasp. A few minutes of dressing, and the stallion was ready for the part. I'd never seen upper class party clothes, but in the company of a few friends, they looked absolutely ridiculous.

"Very funny," he grumbled, as I chuckled behind him. "When are we moving out?"

The purple mare beside me sniggered. "You don't think you're done yet, do you? You're forgetting the pièce de résistance." She returned to her bag, Bastion staring with sheer horror. Vallé pulled out a tall, white wig. I burst out laughing, simply unable to control myself. Bastion let out a long, drawn-out groan.

* * *

The two left me and Shady in the alley. For a short while we stood there, almost motionless. I was waiting on her to move. She did eventually, taking her weight off the box and onto her hooves. She crouched close to the floor.

"On my back. Now."

I shifted an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Do you want me to fly you to the roof, or do you want to climb up yourself?"

I didn't like her tone, but the job was clearly more important. I trod across the paving to her side. I'd never flown a pegasus before. Putting my hind leg over her waist, I sat on her. It didn't feel right in the slightest.

With a sudden jolt, the pegasus started flapping her wings, and took off from the floor. As it turned out I was hardly prepared, and barely prevented myself from falling. Only a quick gut reaction to grapple her neck with both front hooves saved me. Shady faltered as I did so, drooping down at an angle, though quickly recovered to continue her ascent. I closed my eyes, holding on for dear life. Levitating was a much better way of flying.

I heard hooves clip onto clay tiles. Opening my eyes, I saw something I'd missed from the aqueduct. The open sky, as intimidating as it was, made me feel a bit less gloomier. I looked around, to see a sea of roofs and chimneys in every direction.

"Violet?" Shady called from below. I was still sitting on her, my hooves digging into the back of her neck accidentally.

"Sorry," I called back. I dismounted onto the tiles with caution, making sure I didn't slip. It wasn't the first time I'd been out on a roof, and it wasn't going to be my last if I could help it.

Shady walked to the edge, and looked down to scan the streets. "They're several houses ahead of us. We'll catch them up easy. Keep a look-out to see the house they go to."

"Right," I noted, trotting behind her. She kept her pace well on the tiles, and I had to use all my effort to not get left behind.

We travelled on for a while, every now and then checking down at the street. It was reassuring to not have to deal with ponies below. I could hear them talking, occasionally laughing with slurred, incomprehensible sentences. They stayed clear of Bastion and Vallé, trailing around the walls of the houses.

Soon we became neck and neck with the two. Shady slowed her pace, her grey behind bobbing ever so slower. She took a short breath. "I heard what you did at the prison. Didn't think you'd make it out, honestly."

"Well... I did," I replied. I couldn't work out whether she was insulting me or not.

"You looked like a waste of time when I first saw you. Wasn't sure Silt was thinking straight. You earned your pay at the prison."

"Uh... thanks."

"You better stay the same today. You're still a filly, with a bit more talent than usual. Fillies can screw up."

"Much as anypony," I muttered.

"Really?" She asked, perking up. "A word of advice, filly. Stay away from Bastion."

"What's your problem?" I said frustratedly, trying not to raise my voice too high. "Why?"

Shady huffed to herself, saying nothing more. She had something against him. Because he was a unicorn, maybe? I wouldn't put it past her.

We pursued our friends from high, the tiles tapping as we touched them. It was thankfully quite a small noise, barely audible by anypony on the streets.

Click, clack, click, clack.

I checked over, as per routine. Seeing the couple stop beside a door with ponies either side of it, I turned to Shady. "Hey. They've stopped."

She halted, and pressed back to me. She checked over herself, before turning back. "That's Cloven Hoof, alright. Three-cornered hats and black jackets. We'll need to get over to the other side."

"Why?" I asked.

"To make sure we know what's going on in there. They'll see us peering out from over here, look," she said, pointing a hoof at a long string of windows across the second floor. "The meeting room. If we're on the roof around it, we'll be able to hide, and hear it."

She walked back to the side, looking down. She stood there for a moment, and eventually turned back. "They're going inside. Now, while nopony's looking."

She crouched down. I sighed, and sat myself over her once again. She burst up, and began to hover to the other side. I was a lot more secure, placing my hooves around her neck quickly. As we passed through the wind, I felt my tail bristle across hers.

Shady landed perfectly on the new rooftops beside the building. I got off straight away, feeling slightly more awkward from the flight. "So, uh, now what?"

"You find a window. Preferably one we can see those two with," she muttered. "I'm going up top. Tell me if you find anything. Wings willing, you'll stay quiet," she said, and flew up to the roof of the house.

I was left on a maze of diagonal roofs, which were much higher angled than the ones across the street. I walked slowly, making sure to keep my grip before going on. I was able to travel full circle round the house.

Minding my step, I checked around, and found what I was looking for. A window, second floor, right beside the large room Shady pointed out earlier. It was a fair distance down, and without any reasonable means of getting down, I called Shady, and stamped on the tiles to alert her. "I, I think I've found something."

She flew down. I guided her to the window, and she brought herself down to examine it closely. A brief moment later she flew back up to me.

"The room's got a staircase with a fair few doors. It's the upstairs hall alright. I'll take you down."

I took a lift down to the window, and looked in. The room was aptly described, bearing not much more than a couple drawers and a mirror at the far end. A few seconds later, I saw the heads of two familiar ponies up the staircase. I called to Shady, "It's them! They're on the other side."

The two were in the house, unscathed, Bastion floating a notebook by his side. The two saw us, and smiled as I grinned back. The meeting was already happening in the other room, and the two were ready for it. I could only hear murmurs from outside, but I could see Bastion scribbling down notes.

Shady lost interest soon enough, and flew back up top. It was a much better use of her time. She could see anypony coming in from up there. Additionally, I didn't need to stand near a pony making a wave of disgusted faces aimed at the unicorn. He winked back when she did, using his magic to conjure up a moustache.

The two worked hard at the door to the meeting room, Vallé whispering to Bastion while he wrote it up. I couldn't hear a word of it. The unicorn still held the moustache in place, occasionally twirling it. I chuckled, his new clothes only adding to the absurdity.

I found it quite funny. The stallion glass-bearer that climbed up the stairs, out of the corner of my eye, didn't think as much. He looked at the two by the door, then at me. His eyes widened, as did mine, as I thrust a hoof at the glass, pointing towards him. Bastion gave an odd look back as the shouting cry of the stallion behind him created a severity to the situation that was not so funny.

* * *

"Spies! Spies at the door!"

The two swung their heads to the stallion. Bastion quickly pushed the notebook into his own jacket. Looking at the stallion, he used his horn once more, on the serving tray the glass-bearer held. The tray whacked him in the face and crashed to the floor, along with the silver glasses and their cider. Shady swooped down, asking "What's going on?"

Bastion and Vallérose looked at me through the window. I placed myself a fair distance away, and bolted at it.

The impact hit me hard, while the window stayed strong as ever. Bastion tried throwing things at it magically; broken stools, parts of the staircase banister, even the silverware the stallion dropped. It was no use. The window stayed strong as ever, and just as Bastion began a second wave, the door to the meeting room flung open.

The two abandoned the window, and galloped for the staircase. Pony after pony raced out of the meeting room, shouting. One pointed at me with a hoof, a pistol above it.

"Duck!"

Shady pushed me down, my own legs stuck from fear. There was a sharp crack, sounding from inside the house. Looking up, I noticed a plume of smoke gassing the room. The bullet encased itself in the glass, causing splinters around it, but nothing more. I was lucky that the owner was wealthy enough to buy shot-proof windows.

Shady shouted to me. "Watch out back. I'll take the front entrance. If they come out there, tell me."

I nodded, and Shady flew off. I got up, and turned my attention to the back entrance of the house. It wasn't a garden as I'd thought. The back was a pathway to more houses, stretched around the area. There were boxes upon boxes piled up outside, next to large glass containers, holding what looked like cider.

I wasn't able to look around for long. Without warning, another loud slam erupted from below. A door thrust open, with the shouts and screams ever more louder. I saw a purple mare and an orange stallion gallop out of the building.

"Shady! They're here, they've ran out here."

Shady hovered over within seconds. "What're you doing? Keep up with 'em!"

I turned to the buildings stretching into the back area, and ran, the pegasus soaring overhead as I did so. She landed in front of me, and we both charged across the roof tiles, some dislodging and falling from our pace.

I looked down. The two split apart at a corner, Vallé smashing through garden fences as a shortcut. They both ended up separated, a line of buildings between them. They had more problems to worry about straight ahead. Groups of gang members assembled on both sides, throwing boxes out to obstruct the path. The two were stuck between the strong forces to the front of them and the massing hordes catching up on their rear. I wanted to help, but how? I had no weapons, an—

"Violet," shouted Shady from the other side of the roof. "Catch."

She threw what I only saw as a swirling beige ring at me. I caught it in my mouth, only to find out what it actually was. A hoofbrace, with a pistol poking out of it.

"You go after Vallé. I'm going for the mule," Shady roared. She unsheathed a short sword from the top of her black leather jacket, and held it in her mouth. I saw her dive off the building to the street below. I couldn't stay around either. I shoddily fit on the hoofbrace, finding it an easy enough fit, but there was a serious problem. I'd never held a firearm before, and I didn't have a clue how. It was a small gun, made so it didn't interfere with limb movement, with a single string running down its' side.

How in Tartarus am I meant to do this?

I stepped over to the side, and saw Vallé galloping across open streets. She'd gotten past the blockade, but they weren't done. One of the ponies, a stallion, made a grab for a sharp, potent knife. He, out of all the others, began to stumble out from the blockade, advancing on the fleeing mare. I looked down further, straight below me, and saw a group of boxes. It was worth a shot, if anything. I jumped for them.

"Violet!"

Vallé shouted out for me, while I crashed into the pile. They were fragile, and the boxes broke as I slammed into them. My injury was shock more than anything, while the stallion on path to Vallé turned around to see me. I struggled out of the boxes, and the stallion, seeing me, turned back to his original target.

I looked back at Shady's hoofbrace. The thing was barely damaged by the fall. I raised my hoof at the galloping stallion's face, bit hold of the string, and pulled it back.

Smoke flew into my face, making me cough, but just before I was enveloped, I saw the stallion falter. He tripped, and once I cantered away from the smoke, I saw his foreleg facing me wounded.

"Violet, gallop to me, quickly!"

I sped flat out on my hooves to the voice. She was there, smiling, and tossed her head forward. She led on, jumping over a small wall, and I followed. I almost didn't see her when I leapt over as she was hiding right behind it, out of view from the other side.

"You're quite alright?" she asked.

I caught my breath. "Never felt better."

"That was a fine shot. We're getting out of 'ere, right now. You see that?" she said, pointing her hoof ahead. "That's our way out."

She pointed at large wooden dual gate ahead of us, past another row of buildings to the left. On the right were a couple of barns, and more empty boxes. The gate was wide open. With nopony guarding it, we were totally clear. All we needed was to pass the distance to it.

"Wait for me," said a voice from my side, breathing heavily.

It was Bastion, his wig having fallen clean off, and his jacket torn.

"Bastion! Where's Shady?" Vallé asked.

"Last I saw she was fighting off three ponies behind me. I, I don't know where she is now."

The purple mare shook her head. "She'll be fine. She always is."

I turned to her. "We're going to leave Shady?"

She nodded. "Ready?"

"Ready," both me and Bastion replied.

She stood up. We all did soon after. A moment apart, we all readied up a gallop to the gate.

Our chances seemed high. The ponies behind us were too far away, with nopony in front.

Until there was.

They were hiding behind the gate's bridge, above the doors. At three-quarters to the gate, we saw them show up, the gate closing. Each pony on the gate wore a tricorne and jacket, and each had a rifle positioned on a shoulder-height wall. I was close enough to see their sinister grins.

We were speeding down the middle of the road to a closed gate,with guns aimed to kill us.

"Fire!"

The first volley whizzed past. bouncing off the stone around me. I looked at my colleagues, and they appeared to be unhurt, too. Guns, apparently, weren't always to be accounted for to hit their target.

"The barn," Bastion shouted amidst the haze and fierce shouting. "Go for the barn."

We turned direction, following Bastion as he tore off the path. Adrenaline pumping, I heard the sound of open windows behind us. There were more shots flying close by, and amidst it all, I heard a scream.

A scream that sounded awfully like Vallé.

I turned.

She was on the floor, with newly emerged blood on a hind leg . She looked me straight in the eye, her foreleg reaching feebly to the ground to get up again. Another volley, with at least one hitting her, put a stop to it. Her mane fluttered down to earth in a ragged teak mess over her head.

"No!"

I had to leave her. She was gone, and I couldn't stop it. I ran to catch up with Bastion at the barn. He glowed his horn and the door shifted, sliding horizontally across the dirt. We bolted in and he used his magic once more, slamming the door behind us with ground-moving force, leaving the gun-toting horde behind.

* * *

Sounds of guns and shouting were muffled by the door. Light came from outside through tiny holes in the woodwork, while a glow came off Bastion's horn. I looked around. There was no other entrance or exit, no barn window to jump out of. There were boxes, though. Plenty of boxes, and on top of that, barrels, ordered neatly on both floors, the way up being a ladder. Aside from that, there were a couple of brewing vats behind us. Something helpful, like a way out? Oh no. Brewing vats, barrels and boxes are way better.

Bastion struggled to my side. "I... I can't hold for long. They're trying to slide it open. Violet, is there anything, anything that can help us out of here?

A shout hailed from outside, followed by a volley of gunfire that made me jump. A few shots made it through the door and fell to the ground, making tiny dust clouds around us.

"There's nothing. Do you see anything? Nothing," I cried, my words piercing through the sound outside.

"No. There's a way, Violet. There always is. Think! We can't die here, I can't die here."

His voice fell silent. I trotted side to side, looking for the answer. It wasn't there. The barn really was just a warehouse, and with nothing sticking out as useful, I gave up.

"Unless you have a plan involving a lake of cider."

A short pause followed, with Bastion breaking it. "Maybe... no. No, we can make it out of here. A crawlspace on the second floor, maybe?"

"I... I'm not sure that would help us. They'd shoot us like... Vallé."

I felt tears emerging. They crept onto my face, wetting my fur.

"I can't believe she's gone. She was with us the whole time, and... she's gone. I barely knew her..."

He did.

I turned to the stallion. "You knew her. Don't you care? Aren't you sad at all?"

I gave him a chance to speak. He didn't utter a thing.

"No... you don't. You don't care, do you? Why would a unicorn care? A selfish, prick-of-the-lot Canterlot bastard!"

"Violet, please, calm down." Bastion strained. "You don't know what you're saying. I cared for her more than the sun in the sky, but I also care to keep us alive."

His voice cut me short. My anger blinded me enough to forget my common sense. He was right, but his cause was pointless. Why care to keep us alive? We were surrounded, somehow still surviving in a building surrounded by a ridiculous number of well armed killers. They were still at the door, and I could see Bastion's magic well enough. It was fading. We didn't have long before the entire horde came to gun us down, and what could we do? Surrender? I grimly huffed at the thought.

Maybe there was some reason for Bastion to keep the door, though, Final thoughts and all. I turned to Bastion.

"I'm sorry."

He didn't reply, struggling as he fell down to focus his magic. The shouts behind the door morphed to a single "Push," every few seconds, followed by grunts. It was a miracle Bastion's ward kept up at all.

I walked to the barrels on the other side of the barn. There was about a dozen of the barrels, evenly spaced to let a pony walk by without knocking them over. Each had a handle on the top, nothing more. I thought it strange—the cider barrels I'd seen before had a tap near the bottom. Left it out for storage, I assumed.

"The first cider I had was at that bar, you know. I hated it, barely touched it. But, well, what's life without trying things out once in a while?"

I put a hoof under the handle. I pulled up, struggling a bit, finally taking off the top after some effort. I looked inside. There was, to my surprise, no cider.

There was gunpowder.

"Bastion?" I darted to the other barrels. Sure enough, each and every one was just about full of the black powder.

"The barrels. They're holding gunpowder."

"What?"

"And... I think I know how we're getting out."

I walked back to the first barrel, and grabbed hold of either side. I pulled it directly in line with Bastion, and pushed it over. The contents spilled to the floor.

We're blowing it up.

I crouched, lowering my head to the powder. I opened my mouth, and lowering further, closed on a small section of the mound. It tasted sharp, and thoroughly disgusting. I raised my hoofbrace, and let go of the powder over the gun's barrel. Only about a fifth actually fell in, the rest either sticking to my mouth, or falling around it. I never reloaded a gun before, but I'd learnt the gist of it.

Vallé goes out with a bang.

I stood upright, and felt a rush of the remaining powder down my throat. Spluttering, I looked back at the barrel on the floor.

I need a way to light it.

The turned-over barrel leaked black powder from the top. I kicked a bit out with my hoof, spreading it across the floor.

A few kicks later, and there was a mound of the stuff out of the barrel.

I coughed once more from the powder, trotting to Bastion as I continued to kick some of the the powder with me, making a safe distance fuse.

His magic sparked out as I reached him. "Violet... what are you doing?" he whispered faintly.

“Get behind the vat.”

I crouched down once more. Picking up a lead ball with my teeth, I placed the gun upright, and dropped it in.

"You're crazy."

“Get behind it… now.”

The stallion, with an urge of what seemed to be the last of his strength, clambered over to the other side of the large vat.

I led the trail and followed suit, jumping behind some crates for some kind of protection, if any.

I aimed my hoof at the gunpowder I’d left behind me, ending just in front of the crates. I looked up, and saw the faces and hooves of the ponies outside heaving themselves in. I clicked the trigger back. I bit on to the string, and without hesitation, swung it back.

There was a split second where I could see the shot hit. At close range, the ball hit straight on target. Some of the burning gunpowder from the gun travelled with it, lighting the trail on the floor. I hid behind the crates, wishing on the stars that it wouldn’t die out.

A short while after the trail was lit, the barn door slid open. A split second after, I heard a truly terrifying eruption of noise.

I can't possibly mimic the sound through word. I could only explain it as the sound of the pistol, amplified a thousand-fold, while at the same time a maul the size of a dragon smashing through a wood mansion while I was still in it.

I ducked instinctively behind the crates, throwing my body out range. Splinters dived into and around me at terrifying velocity.

The explosion engulfed half the barn, spreading around the smell of gunpowder and burning wood. The ponies at the door were abstracted from sight, though I saw Bastion. He didn't get the full force of the explosion, the large steel vat now in front protecting him from debris. Neither did I—I was still conscious, breathing, alive.

My hearing literally blanked out, and I had the worst head pain in Equestria, but I wasn't dead. Far from it. I watched for half a minute or so as debris fell around, some flaming. The largest bits crashed overhead, through the barn roof and out the other side.

I looked back at Bastion, my vision blurred and painful. His formalwear was practically destroyed, ripped in every way possible. He got up stumbling on his hooves, and falling down a couple of times before finally staying there. He looked to me, and opened his mouth. "__________."

He appeared to be saying something, shouting, maybe. I couldn't hear it. His face was contorted with horror, and noticing I couldn't hear a single word, he pointed a hoof at my foreleg.

I hadn't noticed, through the shock of the situation, that my leg was on fire. I gasped, attempting to pat it out on the floor. The flame stayed strong, sending hot pain through me. I stood, breaking into a flimsy jump into the vat. Fermenting liquid splashed over the sides as I plunged. I noticed, the two extremes facing another in the vat, how hot the air was. The flaming debris littered the place, with pieces of wood and straw still dropping off the smouldering roof.

I peered over the other side of the vat. I could see from the door to the closed wooden gate outside, and there wasn't a single body around. The gate was dangerously close to the detonation, and I wouldn't put it past the explosion simply throwing the ponies off. I stepped over, falling down to the ground like Bastion had. It was hard, dirty ground, with dust sticking to me as I got up.

I walked through the remnants of the destroyed barn. My target was straight ahead of me; the rubble where the gunpowder barrels once stood. Limping, I dodged poorly out of the way of shreds of planks falling from above, though I didn't have to for long. There wasn't a roof for half of it. The side I was walking on was nothing more than a dumping ground for building materials, the parts scattered about to the rest of the compound and out of it, as far as the eye could see.

I turned at where the sliding door once was. There were bodies, littered across the dirt and path. Some were still alive, moving around on their backs or fronts, but not much else. There was no sign of Her, though, the body disappeared under burning ash, smoke, and fire. I still had Bastion. He was behind me, having taken the path around the vat. He wasn't in good shape, leaning on one leg and stumbling about the place, his face clenched from the heat. He shouted out to me, "______________."

He pointed with his head to his hind leg facing me. Splinters covered it, like mine. I limped back to him and, going around to his hurt side, gave him some support.

We made it out of the burning barn, through the rubble and out the other side onto the streets, being careful not to touch the burning embers. My strength was depleting rapidly from taking Bastion's weight, and we had to take a short rest outside. We sat down, watching as the barn slowly collapsed in on itself, the last walls succumbing to the raging fire.

I started to hear it. The crackling, and the panting of myself and the stallion beside me. It came through the right, my left still blank as ever. I could hear myself thinking. I could hear myself speak.

"Bastion?"

He looked at me, opened his mouth, and halted. He coughed a loud, chesty cough, taking him a short moment to recover.

"Violet. It's... Shady."

The grey pegasus was hovering far, far above the Cloven Hoof compound, away from the smoke rising from the barn. She'd spotted us and began a descent, getting closer until she finally landed between the both of us. She looked much less worse, almost normal, her jacket unscathed and her fur un-singed, though bloody.

"I heard an explosion the volume of a whole damn battery. I come up for a better look, and half of Fetlock is burning. What happened?"

Bastion spoke, his voice hoarse. "We were surrounded, and... she blew it up. The barn was full of explosives,"

"Who? Who blew it up?"

"Me," I panted between heavy breaths.

She raised an eyebrow, turning to Bastion.

"It's...true," he started. "We're hurt, though. Badly hurt. We need assistance, if you can sp—"

"Where, is, Vallé," she growled, advancing on him.

"She didn't make it. She was killed by a couple of shots before we made it to the barn," Bastion said in a slightly worried voice, overshadowed by the mare in black.

"You're lying," she said her face flaring with colour. "You always lie. Tell me. Tell me!" she shouted, and began to throttle Bastion by placing her hooves either side of his throat.

"I'm...noh...lyi—cack," he coughed, his neck in a firm grip.

I couldn't sit idle, waiting for yet another pony to die. I shouted at her, "He's telling the truth! Don't do it!"

She let loose her grip, the stallion breathing quickly after. She turned, and stared wickedly into my eyes. There was a short moment where I thought she was going to start choking me.

Shady pulled her eyes off me and threw her head to the ground. She snarled, and I could see from the reflection of light a small tear across the bridge of her muzzle. I heard a deep sigh from the pegasus.

She sprung up, her head held high, and began to walk away.

"Shady, are you okay?"

She walked faster, turning to a trot across the road.

"Shady? You can't go, we need your help!"

She spread out her wings, and pounced into the air.

"Shady!"

My words left as she flew to the sky, ignoring me. I'd stood up to yell, trying to catch up with her, and my hooves hurt from it. I walked back to Bastion, and he looked up at me.

"She's gone, hasn't she," he said.

I paused, looking over the sorrowful unicorn. "She...may have gone, but I won't." I limped up and grabbed one of his hooves, helping him stand up. "That's what friends are for. Helping each other out."

He beamed at me, shaking on his legs. "Thank you."

Together, I and Bastion made our way to Hoofsplit. I didn't have a damn in Equestria for anything, or anypony else.

* * *

Guards are rare in Fetlock, so I've been told, but the whole city heard the explosion. They sped past us to the scene, without even a glimpse of a question on who we were, and why we looked like we'd just been to Tartarus and back.

More of a bad thing for us than good. I would've preferred telling them I'd done it. Prison was a guilty pleasure compared to walking back without help. After all, I escaped prison before.

I led the two of us down a street I didn't know the name of, or anything, practically. I looked towards my accomplice. He wasn't that pale before.

"Bastion, are you... okay?"

The unicorn didn't reply, a spark fizzing off his horn. He didn't seem to even notice me, in fact. His eyes were half-closed, and he was barely standing. My keeping him balanced seemed to be the only thing stopping him from outright collapsing.

I tried again. "Bastion, I think we should rest."

No reply. I put a hoof in front of him, stopping him dead in his tracks. He swayed a bit as I pushed down on his lower back, getting him to sit.

As soon as his hind hit the stone, he fell to his side, sprawling limbs out over the road. He turned to me. "Violet, I can't do this anymore," he said weakly. "Find a doctor, find a potion, anything."

I sat down with him, my legs ridden with pain, and my shoulder Bastion was resting on aching. "I don't know the nearest doctor. Flaming horseshoes, I don't even know where we are." I watched him, his chest and stomach rising and falling in short bursts. "You... you're a map-maker, aren't you? D'you know if there's a doctor here?"

"I...may. Where are we?"

"Right," I said, standing up awkwardly. I limped to the nearest sign, a great wooden thing with visible marks of age pinned up on a house. I read aloud, "Peppergale."

"P-Peppergale?" Bastion muttered faintly. "Ther'sa doctor on fifty two. Find it, please. You... don't know how lucky we are."

* * *

"I'm surprised you're both alive!"

I hobbled to the door in question, and she answered it, a unicorn mare with pink fur and a light brown mane. I asked her if she could help us, and she agreed. Within minutes I was on an operating table with my jacket off, her taking out splinters and magicking up hot water. "On the contrary," she said while levitating a rag over to clean up the mess, "I'm surprised Bastion is alive. You earth ponies seem to take at least double the punishment a unicorn would. If you two switched around places, he'd be long gone."

"Really," I exclaimed. "You know Bastion?"

"Of course. I know you, too," she smiled. "Newest member to the group, huh, Sore-Eye's entourage? I'm his medical assistant, his doctor for him and his employees. You don't think the old crook would skimp out such an important job?"

"No, he probably wouldn't," I chuckled. The mares' treatment was already making me feel better. Perhaps it was the pound of wood that was already taken out.

"Hmm. You should be fine. Unlike Bastion, the splinters didn't go in deep. Aside from that, some burns and a broken eardrum. Lucky it didn't go in too far there, either. I can repair it within the hour. The burns will subside in a couple of weeks, as long as you let it heal. Speaking of injuries," she said, looking into my damaged ear, "what came of that blow to your side a while back?"

"It disappeared the second I was given the healing potion," I replied. "Say... if I had a potion then, why aren't I getting one now?"

"I'm no herbalist, I'm a doctor," she responded plain and blunt. "Besides, you shouldn't trust them. Only difference between a poison and a healing potion is a sticker and a colour. I'd prefer somepony I could trust to something I can't."

"Who made the potion if you didn't?" I asked.

She spoke almost sarcastically, shrugging. "Can't say."

I'd hit a wall, and decided not to dig further. As she flickered her horn, I changed the conversation. "How's Bastion holding up?"

"Not as well as you. He'll live, but he needs to stay for at least another month, or so. Unicorns need time to regain their strength, especially when they've been physically and mentally exhausted, like he has."

I heard a shout from the other room. "Miss Fate!"

The pink mare turned to the voice. "Don't exert yourself shouting! Give me a sec, I'll be over." She turned back to me, and powered her horn with a glow. A short moment later, and I heard a painful click coming from my damaged ear. It felt weird hearing her voice from both sides. "You fine being left alone a while?"

"I’m fine," I said, hearing myself through both ears as I said it. It was nice, feeling whole again. I had some major earache, but it was working. In truth, I was quite ready to get a move on. There were minor injuries here and there, but nothing a good night's sleep wouldn't fix.

Miss Fate returned a short while later, levitating a small letter beside her. "He said he was on a mission, or something. He had some valuable information. I can't let him out, so you'll have to bring it to Sore-Eyes yourself. Alright?"

"Sure," I said, watching her stuff the letter into a pocket on some new piece of clothing that emerged from her other side.

"Your jacket was wrecked. I just so happen have one," she said. "It's a hoof-me-down from my aunt years ago. Not much use to me anymore. You're welcome to keep it."

"Thanks!" I exclaimed. When she took off my jacket, it was in rags, with large areas burnt around the legs. I couldn't be happier getting a new set of clothes—the others were uncomfortable to begin with. I stood up on the table, and she fit me into the new jacket, sliding it onto my hooves and my head, and buttoning it up.

"I apologise about the buttons. Hope they aren't too much trouble," she said. "Aside from that, is there anything else? Ah,"—she opened a cupboard, hovering a vial of something to my pocket—"you'll need this, for your burns. Apply it about every day until they stop becoming a problem. Other than that, I think I'm finished here."

"I thought you said you didn't like potions?" I stated.

"That's no potion, Violet. It's plain old vinegar. Helps in the restoration process."

"Oh," I squeaked.

"Now if you wouldn't mind, please step off my table."

I stepped off, my limp seemingly gone. "Sorry."

She levitated a familiar hoofbrace over to me. "Your gun."

"Uh.. thanks," I said, as she adjusted the brace back onto my foreleg.

"If you have any more problems, please, don't hesitate to come back. 'Til then, Farewell."

I nodded back, and trotted through the house to the front door, closing behind me once I'd left. There was a chill breeze outside, making me realise how important a good jacket could be. I peered down Peppergale road, and began a trot back to Hoofsplit.

* * *

The cold subsided as I stepped through the manor. Perhaps a deviant spell was cast to keep the temperature stable? It was never too cold or too warm inside. A perfect temperature for ponies. I conversed with the butler, and he let me inside, expecting me as usual. Felltree didn't check the whitelist when he heard me call. He simply let me in, standing by the door as he always did. It was kind of sad really, that I'd never really talked to him aside from greetings and goodbyes.

I didn't have my mind on him, though. It was Shady I was thinking about. She'd finally broke, running away like that, and I thought I saw a tear. She may have given me grief in the past, but I didn't want to pressure her on it. If we were going to work together, then we should at least help one another. A bit more than she helped me.

I walked to the hallway, seeing nopony as I walked past. Silt wasn't around, Bastion's room was clearly absent, and Vallé, well, I never even got a chance to see hers. I hoped Shady hadn't been taking it too hard. She did have, after all, a grim past from what Vallé told me. She'd probably seen dozens fall the same way, maybe even fell a few of them herself. She'd always acted like the kind of mare who wouldn't hesitate to buck a pony in the face if they pissed her off.

I knocked the door to her room, and heard something solid hit against the other side.

"Get lost."

"Shady? It's me, Violet. Can I come in?"

"I'm not apologising for running away."

"It's not that," I told her. "I wanted to see if you were okay."

There was a short silence, before I heard hoofsteps from inside. She opened the door, and stared at me. I glanced back. There were small bags under her eyes, and tears which damped the lower half of her face. She snuck her hoof off the door and walked to her bed. She jumped on it, a few empty bottles bouncing off and onto the floor. I entered the room, avoiding the bottles, and took up resting on a chair by her desk.

"So," I started, "Do you... want to talk about it?"

"Whudduh you think." She rolled over in her sheets, grabbing a half-full cider from her bedside table. "Tell me, what did she mean to you?"

"Well... she was a good colleague, and she was very nice, and kind, but... I never really knew her enough. I guess that's my fault."

"I don't mind you not knowing her. What matters is she was my friend. My only friend."

"Your... only friend? I see..." I barely saw them talk on missions. I never noticed it anywhere else, either.

"I never had anypony back at Cloudsdale. Silt only keeps me for my work. But she understood me, and I understood her. And now she's gone." Shady paused, taking a swig at the cider. "She never lied to me, and she was always there when I needed her. When I was angry at Silt for whatever, or when I felt like nopony cared, or something. You don't get that from everypony around here. She was family." A whiff of alcohol breezed past me every time she opened her mouth.

Another pony entered the room as she finished her sentence. Twitch. Her face was covered in a sly grin.

"Terrrribly sorry dears. I just couldn't help but hear... crying, Shady Skies?" Her grin widened, "Now that is a sight."

Shady leaned upright, eyeing Twitch. "Get lost. Go kiss a dragon."

She chuckled to herself, and turned to me. "Violet too? How quaint." She poked me on the muzzle. I tried biting back, her hoof retracting quickly.

I glared at her. "What do you want?"

"Honestly?" she asked, raising her hoof. "I want to have been there. That final minute with our dearly departed." She looked to the ceiling, giving a dramatic pose. Hinting a smile, she turned back. "It would've been fun to be the one to trip her up."

A bottle flew into her general direction. It missed, and she fluttered her eyes dreamily. "Temper temper, Shady Skies. You missed. Like when you missed saving Val, huh?"

"I swear Twitch, if your slimy head wasn't protected under Sore-Eyes I'd have it stuck on a pole long ago."

Twitch chuckled once more, turning to the door. "We wouldn't want that, now... would we? I'll leave you lovebirds alone, but don't get too comfortable. You'll be seeing a lot more of me later," she sneered, flashing her turquoise tail in my face and trotting out the door.

Shady glared at me and snarled, once Twitch had left. "Out. Now."

I didn't have to hear it twice to get moving. I fell back on all fours, and shifted out of the room, closing the door behind me as I left. Behind the door, I thought I heard sobbing. I left quickly.

Next on the list was Silt. I couldn't forget about him, after all. I trotted to the foyer, and found Felltree idling by the door. "Felltree," I called, "could you get Mister Silt, please?"

The butler turned to me with bored eyes. "One moment." He primly walked past me, up the staircase.

I waited for a moment. He arrived, finally, with Felltree in front of him. They both stepped down the staircase, Silt looking at me as he did so.

"Violet!" he roared, "I haven't seen hide nor hair of Bastion, Vallé or Shady. Do you have the information?"

"I... do," I said, and took out the letter. I held it in my mouth, and he took hold of it with his own. He gave it to the butler, who levitated it beside him.

"She's... dead. Vallérose."

"How?" he asked. "What happened?"

"They saw us, and we tried to escape. She was killed while we were galloping away. Me and Bastion only escaped by blowing a barn up to make an escape route."

"You... blew up a barn, did you say?" he spoke, looking away from the now open letter. "I don't think I heard you right."

"You heard right."

He threw his full attention on me. "How in Equestria?..."

"I saw some barrels of gunpowder in the edge of the barn. So I, uh... blew them up."

He looked it me in bedazzled wonder. Even the butler raised an eyebrow. Silt's open mouth turned to a smile. "The... barn next to the gate? In the Cloven Hoof compound?"

"Yeah, I think so."

He laughed loudly, echoing across the walls. "Violet, you rapscallion, you bundle of joy! There's more than one reason I keep you, and I know it all too clearly now. They won't make a comeback of this, I assure you." He wiped a tear from his eye, and took a glance at the open letter beside him. "And with this... oh yes, we are going to press it. We won't let them stand, neigh, crawl on their hooves when this is over."

Silt turned back to me. "My dear, you've earned more than your pay. Tartarus, you've more. Felltree, bring both Vallé and Violet's pay to the young mare. She deserves it."

I watched as Felltree trotted by me, down the hallway to the treasury. It didn't feel right getting a dead mare's pay. On top of it, Shady'd hate me for it. I spoke up to Silt, "I... don't want it, really. You can keep it."

Silt knelt down to my level. "My dear, do you know what you're saying? You need to understand that when a pony offers bits, you take them. Vallé is gone, magi bless her soul, but you aren't. She doesn't need that money as much as you do. In fact, she doesn't need it at all. You'll find that many of your friends will pass you by in your lifetime. You can't stop it, and you certainly can't help it by clawing onto them. It's only right that you move on."

He stood up, and I heard trotting from behind me. It was Felltree, carrying two bags full of coins on his back He hovered them over, storing them in my side pockets. Silt turned to the stairs. "I'll have your next contract soon, and I'll send somepony over, same as last time." He bowed his head. "It's been a pleasure."

* * *

I had a lot to think about on the way home. Vallé was... dead. I'd taken her entire share on Silt's demand. It didn't feel right, but there wasn't much point in arguing against it. Free money, as he said, is free money, and it'd be best that I take what I can get. I was sure that nopony would actively go out and find where it went, and the chances of finding it in a boarding house in the middle of the lower district were extremely low. I'd certainly get away with it, even if I didn't fully agree with the idea.

What was clearly more important was my mortality than anything else. The money I'd been given so far amounted to about a year and a half's worth of food, rent if we were asked to pay it, any kind of basic living standard. We could probably buy a house if the sellers weren't picky selling a house to non-adults. Point is, we could survive for ages... was it worth me doing it anymore?

I'd seen my colleague shot, and barely survived myself... this wasn't a safe business. On top of that, I wasn't too sure I even liked half the colleagues I worked with. Silt and Bastion were okay, but Twitch? I despised her... and Shady? I didn't honestly know where she was in all this. One time she'd be insulting me, saying I was barely worth anything, the next she'd be... respecting me? I didn't know what she was thinking before the escape that day, and right before you realise, she was back to blatantly ignoring me, even throwing me out when I was making the effort to see what was wrong.

The mention of 'The Cloven Hoof', too. The 'Point'. The Cloven Hoof seemed to be some sort of gang, from what I heard and saw. A well equipped gang, maybe as rich as Silt himself, and we were tasked to 'find out their plans'. That was our contract? Call me naive, but I wouldn't expect somepony to go looking out for plans of city gangs if they were trying to protect their wealth, like he supposedly was. Unless if he was trying to make a move against them, but... isn't that what city gangs do? Be the dominant gang? In that case, I was just another gang member, another one of those lackeys closing the gates on us.

The only thing stopping me from completely abandoning the whole thing was the quantity of payment. The amount of bits I earned was insane, more than I'd ever made before, and Silt didn't look like he was stopping the payments. If I helped him enough, I'd have all the money I'd ever want. I could get my friends, Cinders, Jem, Parable, even Ying, and we'd move out. We'd buy a house far from Pastur.

Parable could take care of the foals, (we wouldn't leave them, after all) Ying could learn to bake, or smith, or something. Jem could be a bard, while Cinders could take care of the house and our money, and me? Well... I'd come to that later. Gardening, maybe? I didn't have a clue how to do it, but I knew I'd learn.

It was fun to speculate, but I still had a while before I'd escape the city with my friends. If the end result was anything like I imagined, the wait would be totally worthwhile.

I whipped out of my daydream, seeing the boarding house nearby. I noticed that Cinders was sitting in front of the door. I wasn't really sure why she was doing it, her back pressed against the wood. She wasn't sporting any visible emotion, and neither was she wearing anything from the norm, a simple coat covering her body up to about her cutie mark. I trotted up, and she noticed, moving her eyes to face mine. Her mouth soured noticeably as I came closer.

I gave a weak chuckle. "What're you doing sitting here like a doorstop?

She stood up, her eyes still firmly planted on me. "Where were you today?"

"I had my contract," I said plainly. It was, after all, about a month since my last contract.

She raised her mouth, looking remarkably unsatisfied with my answer. "What was your contract?"

"Well, you know. The usual stuff."

"Stuff that gives you burn marks?"

I looked at my forelegs guiltily. They weren't hidden at all, with little patches of un-furred skin. Thankfully it was the only thing remotely noticeable, my splinters taken out long before. I thought quickly, trying to make up an excuse. An article I read in the newspaper before about animal-handlers came up.

"Chimeras aren't easy to handle, you know."

Her face turned to a more orangey shade of yellow. "'Chimeras'?" she stated. "Huh. Suppose that makes sense. I hear they react badly to loud explosions."

"It's... their animal instinct. No problem for us, though. We sorted 'em out, and look," I said, nodding to my pockets, "I got paid well for it, too."

She took off her stare, nodding with her mouth still raised. "Nice jacket, too. Where'd you get that?"

She was implying something, but I didn't know what. I didn't want to play her game any longer. "Cinders, is there something wrong?"

"Isn't it odd, Violet, that whenever you come back from your 'work', that something happens? Like when there was a jail-break the evening you came back, or when today, there was a shootout in the north-west district, which I only found out an hour before. Isn't that odd?"

"Cinders, it isn't what it looks—"

"Bullshit," she spat, "You're part of this, and I know it. Why, Violet? What's this all about?" She looked at me furiously, her eyes glowing and her teeth bared.

Why is she so angry at me?

"It's part of my contract!" I shouted, retreating back a few steps. "I've been told to do this by Silt himself, it's what's getting us paid!"

"You've gone too far with this, Violet. I know I told you to do this, and I helped you, but I can't support you anymore. You need to stop."

"What?"

She hid her teeth, and walked closer. We were almost on the street. "You're endangering everypony with your work. I won't allow it."

"Cinders, you're acting crazy. You haven't mentioned this at all to me before and, well, really? I'm making us more bits than we could ever dream of! You want to stop that now?"

She huffed. "I've thought about it for a long time. I knew Silt before you did, and he knew me well enough 'til I broke my leg. He wanted me to do what you're doing, you know. But if I knew I was going to be doing what you're doing now..." she shook her head.

I didn't buy it. She knew him before, wanted to do the same thing as me, and now that she wasn't she was telling me to stop? I could smell something foul in the air, and it took me a long pause before I was sure to confront her.

"Did you hear what you just said? You're jealous," I told her, turning her face an ever stronger orange. "Look. I'm trying to help all of us out with this work. Think about it. If I work with Silt long enough, we'll have a great deal of money. Enough money to buy us out of this city. There'll be difficulties on the trip there, but I know I can."

Difficulties, like blowing up the rest of the city?" Cinders retorted. "How about our safety? How in Equestria are you, the scourge mare of Pastur, going to keep yourself hidden from the ponies that come after you? What then? "

"Cinders. If we don't try this, our one way out, then what are we going to do? We'll run out of money, get put in jail stealing bread... you know they have an execution square here? Three offences to capital punishment?" I carried on as she stared at me, not saying a word. "Besides, I can't back out. He's an all powerful pony, and me? He makes it out like I'm special to him, like he needs me. He'll do whatever he can to get me back."

She spoke up. "If he 'thinks' you're so special, what makes you think he'll let us all buy our way out of the city, then?"

Her question pierced through my argument like a knife through jelly. That's a good point.

"Well... he's got to stop some day, hasn't he?" I replied uneasily.

There was a long pause where the two of us looked at each other, the both of us not sure what to say next. I edged closer to the door slowly, making a move to get in, when she held up a hoof a little ways below my neck. I shifted an eyebrow.

"Can you move your—"

"No," she replied, "you're a danger to us. You're not coming in."

"Excuse me?"

"We house thieves, not murderers," she stated. "You aren't welcome 'til you quit."

I placed a hoof on her shoulder. "My job isn't based on murdering."

She gave a surprised look, and tilted her head left to right in a provoking way. "You sure as diamonds do it though, don't you?"

Get out.

I planted my hoof to the ground. "That was a... If that's how you're going to be, fine!" I shouted. "If that's how you're going to act after the years we had in the orphanage, and the time I've spent helping you with undying servitude here, so be it! I've had enough today to screw around 'living it up' in your shithole."

I stormed off into the streets, not taking a glimpse behind me. She was going to be like that? She could buy her way to freedom herself. I, on the other hoof, would make actual progress. Because in the end, Pastur doesn't favour thieves over so-called murderers.

It favours bits.

And those willing to make them.

Chapter I: Violet

BD: Memoirs Of A Rogue

By Enti0

Chapter I

VIOLET (The foal sitter)

Equestria. I always thought of it like a big, branching tree.

Little creatures, ants, beetles and birds live on that same mass of wood and sap. Do they live in peace and harmony? The birds swoop in to catch a meal, while insects fight amongst themselves for their own food. A raging battlefield.

There's a connection between the tree 'world', and our own. We have our birds. The aristocrats. The lords and ladies. The high flyers, if you'll mind the pun. They'll swoop down the same way at the 'insects', the poor folk. So what do we do about it?

We don't. We try to survive with our tails between our legs, scraping together whatever we can to live for the next day.

That’s what I used to think. Equestria wasn't a nice place then. The three reigning factions of unicorns, earth ponies and pegasi looked to place daggers at each others' throats, while the common ponies had no choice but to pick sides and don colours.

I, on the other hoof, hadn't the slightest idea what was going on and frankly, I didn't care.

I was born to the earth pony Queendom, in a city called 'Pastur'. I was an orphan, an earth pony filly without a single blood sibling. My parents? For all I know, dead. There's a saying in Pastur slums, see.

"A foal's father is the streets."

The only choice I had was a local orphanage. Years passed under blackened walls and barred windows.

During my time I managed to make friends. They had the same opinion of it as myself, and so one day, we escaped. I'll never regret it.

* * *

I remember, eight months after our escape, on a sunny afternoon; when my 'better' instinct thought it would be a grand idea to steal a loaf from under Mister Pebble's snout. I mean, who would miss a simple piece of bread?

Mister Pebble, apparently.

I'd spent the day begging near the Farmpony Monument in the north district for extra bits. By the time we'd finished it was almost closing time, and I hadn't made a single coin. I needed dinner, and stealing was the only option.

That, and a certain orange colt by the name of Barn Breaker wouldn't stop whining his wretched little head off about how hungry he was. I took him with me. Give a colt a loaf, and he eats for a day. Now, show him how to obtain said loaf...

We were in the market plaza soon after I dragged the colt out. It was a popular place in the city, and with the number of ponies making last minute purchases, I had high hopes in our chances to blend in, swipe the baked goods, and get out of there. Of course, one must learn that even with the best of luck, the unexpected must be considered.

As soon as the stallion at the stall turned the slightest direction towards us, I found myself in a situation which was far from expected.

"LEG IT!" my newbie accomplice yelled, flailing his hooves onto the floor as he clumsily ran amok. "EVERY PONY FOR THEMSELVES!"

My good-for-nothing partner in crime fled the scene immediately, galloping out through the crowds and down the plaza. It didn't take Pebbles long to put two and two together once he saw me sneaking under the counter, sliding the loaf into my jacket side-pocket.

If we made it out, I'd thought to make sure to whack some sense into him with something heavy. A loaf of bread, maybe?

There was no time to lose on violent dreams, as the commotion brought market guards chatting up a local jewellery salesmare on alert. Half of them went straight for me, pushing shoppers aside to make a direct path. The others split off towards the only staircases leading out of the market plaza, trapping me like a caged dog.

There was a considerable distance between myself and the guards, one I used to my advantage. I scouted out the plaza's ins and outs for any possible escape, and liked what I saw. The surrounding fences that the guards weren't securing were on the small side. It gave me a devious plan.

I darted past the guards as they grabbed at me, and brought on a speed down the plaza, ponies avoiding me left and right. Keeping up my pace, I galloped towards the jewellery stand, where the mare at the counter fled to the side of the scene shouting words I would have been scolded for using in public.

By the time the guards at the staircase realised what I was doing, they couldn't stop me. I hopped onto the market stall counter, and again, up over the fence, landing elegantly down the staircase banister on the other side.

I was on the street pavement in seconds, the marble surface sliding perfectly against my hooves.

Adrenaline bound, I looked back and saw the guards furious, dropping their spears to make a crazed dash for me. I had no choice but to keep galloping, knowing for sure that they weren't about to give up easy.

...Until a clatter of noise drew my attention, moments later.

Looking back, I saw a crumpled heap of guards at the bottom of the staircase. Ceremonial armour, unfortunately, tends to do naught for agility.

I darted behind a nearby street corner for the chance to catch my breath, and check my inventory. I made a quick search through the jacket pocket, just to be sure.

It didn't fall out. Good. Moves like that deserve a pay off, I thought, giggling.

Thank the stars Barn Breaker didn't mess that up.

Thinking about it, where is Barn Breaker?

The stupid foal probably wound up against a wall or something. Couldn't he shut up for once? We might not have had the whole market looking for us if I was with someone who was at least competent.

We're all in the same boat. You should forgive him. When you were his age, you weren't exactly perfect.

The contradiction from my mind faded, and in a way, seemed fair. If I didn't help him, he'd get caught for sure. When I was that age, or at least that stupid, I wouldn't have had a chance. Was it really worth it saving the kid from a couple of days, or a week of jail time? What had he ever done for me?

I shook my head, causing a silky maroon mane to swish across my face.

No. That isn't me.

My mind was made up, however much I disliked it. I gritted my teeth and made a move for the streets.

I'll forgive him this once. But if he gets himself into trouble one more time, it'll be his neck on the line. No exceptions.

Risking my flank was almost common for the past couple of weeks, ever since our group leader had her leg bitten by a watchdog while out scouting for food. I had to take over twice as many jobs as usual, and it wasn't easy.

I moved to the corner of the building, looking for guards.

The coast was clear. The merchants and customers were the only ponies in sight, recuperating from the recent commotion. If the market guards were anywhere, they were sure to be hot on Barn Breaker's trail.

I turned down the closest alleyway to start my search. I soon found myself on a long, narrow path through the city, nearby to a section of the aqueduct that ran through it. I sighed to myself as I trod on past old boxes and barrels strewn carelessly through the walkway.

I've only gone this way once or twice. I doubt Breaker has stepped more than a mile radius out of the hideout. He hasn't got a clue where he's going.

I pushed on at a canter, no sign of the colt or his pursuers. The path soon branched out, with a low brick wall built into the middle. The road hit the wall and split off in opposite directions, buildings at either side blocking a clear view of the two paths.

I examined the brick wall. A solitary tree stood behind it, different from the ones that usually grew around Pastur. The tree branched out close to the trunk and ended in tiny leaves, much like the paintings of what we knew as 'zebra country'. None of the ponies I knew had ever gone there before, and the only reasons we'd heard of it was from the paintings, and rumours.

I stared at the tree with good reason. Poking his blond-mane out from underneath it, and just above the brick wall, was Barn Breaker.

"You," I hissed. "What were you thinking?"

I climbed over the wall, albeit a bit roughly. The grass on the other side broke my fall.

"We were this close to not eating tonight, this close!"

I briefly stood up, gesturing with my front hooves a distance the width of a piece of paper, or as close as I could get without touching.

"I'm sorry," he squeaked, jumping his front hooves off the wall. "I... lost my head back there. It won't happen anymore, I swear."

His reaction made me a bit sorry for the colt. I didn't feel right getting any angrier about it.

"Make sure it doesn't," I stated calmly. "Now, you do have a plan to get us out of this, don't you?"

The other side of the wall landed us in a much lower position, the main road being on elevated ground. The low wall had now doubled in height. If anypony out of the two of us could climb up it'd be me, and only barely.

"I can't get back that way, it's too high up," he said, pointing a hoof.

"Have you checked for any other ways out?" I asked. "Before I got here."

Breaker paused for a second. "If we keep going through the grass we'll be in a garden, I think."

I shook my mane in disapproval. "Anything a bit, you know, stealthy?" I asked.

He was tearful in his response. "No... sorry."

I walked around the foreign-looking tree for inspiration. It didn't come to me. I very much doubted in Breaker's ability or mine to climb out using it.

I heard steps on the grass as the colt trotted towards me slowly.

"Do, do you think we're gonna make it out alive?"

Alive? The usual sentence for a thief was a couple of months in a cell at most. It might not have a preferable way of spending six weeks, but it wasn't exactly capital punishment.

Given the circumstances however, I felt a bit of exaggeration was needed to get the damn colt doing what I said for once. I put on my best dramatic-but-not-pushing-it face, and whispered,

"Are you ready to act on my every instruction without question to get us out of here?"

He nodded, a tear falling off his nose.

"Are you prepared to be as quiet as a mouse while we escape?"

He broke down into more fervent nodding.

"Would you be willing to snatch the moon from the sky, should I ask for it?"

He looked back at me with a turned head. I stared him down, and he eventually replied with a few less enthusiastic nods. I continued regardless.

"Then maybe, just maybe, we'll make it out of this alive," I finished.

"...Okay, I'm ready," Breaker said behind more tears. "I'll do you proud! Wait, no, I'm gonna be quiet. Sorry."

Goodbye whiney uncooperative colt, hel-lo progress.

Seeing as I'd already put him on the spot enough for one day, I took the lead.

"Follow me."

The colt did as he was asked without question. It felt good knowing I was being listened to.

The two of us trotted away from the area with the tree into another part of the garden. It extended far out to either side and, sure enough, was placed almost directly opposite to the road.

There was no path in the garden. The only foliage present was a couple of exotic plants that presumably came from the same place as the tree, with some standard looking bushes that were a bit higher than myself scattered around. The garden was used as an escape from the urban life by local lower class residents, as owning a garden was pretty rare for all but the richest ponies. It was unusually empty, and I was thankful for it.

I trotted cautiously across the grass, Breaker right behind. A breeze passed by from the streets, causing intense shivering for the colt. I couldn't say I blamed him—he didn't have a thick coat. I thought it wise to get him back home as soon as possible.

I don't want him to catch a fever.

Wait, since when do I care about Breaker? He got me into this in the first place!

We managed to get about halfway across the garden without issue. The plan was that we'd be taking the most direct route back, perhaps a road similar to the one we'd come from. Not through the market, but with a path close by. We weren't bereft of shortcuts in Pastur by any stretch.

The street cobble was almost under our hooves when I heard two voices talking from not far away, on a patch of street that we couldn't see. The first was a stallion, with a low but clear voice.

"...Were just about to get our hooves on the bugger 'till he disappeared from under our noses, Miss."

The second was a mare, and she grumbled back.

"You don't say."

Uh oh.

I stopped in my tracks, looked at Breaker, and whispered.

"Back up."

We both moved slowly back into the garden, eyes on the side of the road with utmost silence. When we reached the middle of the garden, I stopped him with a hoof. There'd been a minute or so break since we last heard the guards.

To my surprise, they resumed conversation behind us, near the brick wall.

"This was where we lost 'im."

"Get out of sight!" I whispered, and he ran to one side behind a building which concealed him, his hoofsteps muffled by the grass.

The voices continued. "Any ideas where he might have gone?"

"The two roads up ahead were secured by two patrols. We came to the conclusion that 'e jumped over this wall."

"Hm. Get down there and see if you can find any clues to where he might have gone. Missing papers, flattened grass, that sort of thing."

"Very well, Miss."

The voices stopped, and I heard the distinctive sound of clip-clopping across the stone streets to the side as the stallion advanced quickly towards us. The cover we'd used to keep out of sight was in plain view from the street. We had to move.

I looked towards Breaker. "We need to hide again, quickly."

"I c-can't" he whispered as he stuck still in his position, now shaking more violently than before.

"What?" I said, breaking my whisper.

"I th-think I'm s-stuck," he replied. "I can't move."

Was he crazy? I had just gone back in order to save his sorry flank from certain capture, and he was going to lose it all?

Breaker seemed earnest about his condition. He looked almost frozen, his orange coat a pale shade of yellow.

"I'm not leaving you here, Barn Breaker."

"I already said, I c-can't move my legs." Breaker replied, his face full of despair.

I could hear the stallion's hoofsteps getting ever closer. With only a few seconds left, and the both of us still without cover, I had to do something, fast.

"Brace yourself," I whispered.

Backing up, I aimed myself at the colt and dived at him. I wrapped my hooves around his painfully cold hide, and slammed us into the ground, rolling under one of the larger bushes through forced momentum.

It wasn't the quietest or most well performed manoeuvre, though the under-bush was surprisingly roomy, with a lot less branches in my face as I had expected. I laid there with the petrified colt, my head narrowly above the grass so I could look through the bush for danger. I prayed to the stars that he hadn't seen us.

I saw a white hoof a metre or so away. It stopped in place, flattening the grass that was growing there. I could make out the smell of dirt and dust on it. I held my breath.

"Huh. Couple o' hoof marks here and there."

I almost fainted when I heard him. His hoof moved out of sight, Breaker letting out a tiny squeak as he did so.

The stallion continued muttering to himself. "Tracks leading over to the road... no, they stopped."

I heard the stallion trot over to the other side of the garden by the tree.

"Must've climbed back over, I gue...—wait a minute."

The stallion trotted back near the bush, within my view. He crouched, and his head lowered. I gulped.

The stallion picked up a piece of fabric with his mouth, one I could easily recognise.

That's a piece of my coat.

It must have been ripped off when I dived into the bush! I winced, waiting for the stallion's reaction.

"Huh," The stallion grunted, having taken the coat-piece away from view. He stayed near the bush for a few seconds, not moving from his position. Every second was torture, waiting for the verdict to cross his mind.

To my surprise, it never happened.

The stallion turned around, his hooves stepping out of their position, and trotted towards the street. His hooves made the same clopping sound as before, getting quieter and quieter until eventually, he was gone.

I waited in silence afterwards, making sure he wasn't coming back. After a couple of minutes, I turned my attention to the colt below me.

"Breaker. Are you alright? Can you move?"

"You're... hugging me... too tightly."

"Oh! Sorry." It hadn't occurred to me how hard I'd been clenching him while the stallion was around. I concealed a blush, threw off my grip, and started crawling out the bush.

"...Don't stop,"

I turned my head back to the colt, confused.

"Uuh, what?"

The colt lay still where I'd left him. I was slightly taken aback.

His face was glowing an embarrassing shade of red, and from the looks of his face, regretting his previous statement with a certain degree of terror.

"How about we get back to the hideout instead?" I asked trying to get onto a different topic.

Breaker somehow turned an even worse shade of red.

"Uh, yeah. Right," he scratched a hoof behind his ear, and stood up to follow me.

"Remember," I said, "every instruction I give without hesitation, as quiet as a mouse."

"Got it." Breaker whispered, his voice deflated and saddened.

And hopefully, when we get back, 'She' won't throttle us at the meeting anymore than she has to...

Chapter II: Breaking and Entering

Chapter II

BREAKING AND ENTERING

Living in a city where nopony stands by your side is tough. It's nigh impossible as a foal. You have to stick together.

That's why we made our group. It started up a while ago, back in the orphanage.

The caretakers locked us up in our room. Smokey Cinders, our leader, was little more than a filly back then, a couple years ahead of us at best. She came up with the plan for revenge.

She had us wait until all the carers had gone home, and at an hour before midnight, we helped her out of the only window in our room. Cinders was thin, and able to get through what she'd now classify as a 'no way, no how' situation with relative ease.

We waited for her return, anxious to see what was going to happen. It wasn't long before we heard a small click from our door, and with it wide open we saw the filly herself holding a ring full of keys in her mouth. She dropped them, turned to us, and smiled.

"Go crazy."

I didn't hear a foal in the room giving complaints. We tore through the building, knocking over candle stands, throwing open drawers, eating the caretakers' food, anything. Smokey even opened the door to the head caretaker's private room, where we found some important looking documents. We shredded them without a thought.

That wasn't the end of Smokey's plan, either.

When they got back, the carers were sure to blame us. Why wouldn't they?

Smokey thought around that.

She told us to go back to our room after we'd finished our fun, and she locked it from the other side. A few minutes later, and we heard something from downstairs.

CRASH.

We jumped at the splintering sound. A few seconds later... nothing. Silence and concerned faces filled the room as we waited, not sure what had happened.

There was a room-wide sigh of relief when Smokey turned up on the window ledge a quarter of an hour later. We helped her squeeze back through, her sudden appearance raising the most important question: "What in the hay happened down there?"

She looked back at us, her devilish red eyes glowing through the dark. "I'm not gonna spoil it for you. Where's the fun in that? How about we wait and see tomorrow?"

The carers woke us up early next day. Positively enraged, they entered the room and asked Jemrock, a blue unicorn colt with a green mane, if he heard anything the previous night. Jemrock said he heard a loud noise downstairs, and nothing else. We could trust Jemrock.

Turned out the sound was caused by a downstairs window smashing. With the blame passed onto what any sane pony would assume as a burglary, the town guards turned up and made their report. Nothing was stolen, and the only serious damage was the loss of several important documents, ripped up and scattered across the room. One of them, the will of Sir Percival Spoon, promised an intended dowry of three thousand bits to the head carer's personal treasury. A fitting loss for the way she treated us.

From that day on, we didn't live by the orphanage rules. We didn't serve the mayor, nor under the rule of the high queen in Manehatten.

Cinders was our queen. She helped us escape the orphanage three years later, and for the next nine months, we survived by ourselves.

We served under Cinders, and we were happy. Nothing mattered more than that.

* * *

The trip back to the hideout wasn't nearly as daunting as I'd thought. It seemed that chasing after us for the whole afternoon was too much for the guards, and they broke off in either defeat, or sheer laziness.

That said, the roads weren't completely empty. Every now and then somepony in uniform would come our way, but it was hardly a problem. Tip-trotting into remote alleyways and keeping it cautious got us through the parts close to our encounter in the gardens. After that, it was just a case of finding an alternative route to home base without crossing the market.

When we came across the right checkpoints it was straightforward. Little things like the pass behind the florist's house, knowing which way goes where on the three split crossroads with the lamp, even the pile of junk on the corner at Roundhouse... I'd been living in the same city for a while.

While I was effortlessly retracing the entire area, there was hardly a peep from the colt following me. Barn Breaker took a vow of silence since the events back at the garden. I felt bad, but I wasn't disappointed that he shut up. The day's problems were caused by his voice, and it was good to know that it wouldn't happen again.

On the basis of some quick guesswork, the way to the hideout was made much quicker than I would've thought. We could see the entrance to the familiar craggy-looking boarding house. It was late, and I'd wouldn't dare trying to be honest with the owner on where we'd been.

Time for some believable improv.

I took a quick breath and tapped the door with a hoof, perching myself on a stone slab afterwards.

"Here's the plan. I make up an alibi, and you stick with it," I whispered, grabbing his attention away from a particularly uninteresting moth he'd been eyeing for the last minute or so.

He nodded his head, going straight back to it in seconds. Breaker was somehow still able to amuse himself with it flying around one of the street lamps, even after all the commotion that day.

Maybe it's a colt thing?

A green eye stuck itself into the glass peephole, and after a quick scan, the eye disappeared. The door carefully opened, revealing the owner and proprietor of the boarding house, a pale grey unicorn mare.

She was dressed up in blue striped sleepwear, wearing a Phrygian cap with a snowy white bobble on the end.

"Miss Violet and Master Breaker!" she said, looking down at us and speaking in her pleasant, motherly voice. "Whatever took you? Your friends were very worried about you."

A strand of my mane was covering half my face as I gave off what I'd thought was the most innocent voice I could muster.

"Well Mis'ess Goldheart, we were, uh, buying some bread at the, uh, store," I replied, rubbing a hind leg on one at my front. "We sort of got a bit, well, lost. I'm sorry."

Mrs Goldheart's eyes narrowed.

"You know, there was a robbery today. Somepony stole some food in the plaza."

Horsefeathers.

She knew! How? When? Why did I choose such a stupid alibi? Come on Violet, think a way out of this, quickly.

"Uhh.. Uh.. Miss, umm.. I... I was actu—"

"No excuses, Miss Violet. I know you two weren't the culprits," Mrs Goldheart stated.

"Wait, what?" I asked dumbly, forgetting to put on a high voice.

"The criminals were last seen over by the aqueduct. The guards who came here asked if they knew anyone from over there, and I can't say I do... but if you do know who did it, please, don't hang around them anymore," she said hastily. "It's not right, you know? I don't want you two to turn out as rotten apples. There are enough of those already."

She leant down, and hugged us both.

"Your club is so generous. Taking little foals off the street like you do, helping them out with the bits you make from errands and jobs. It makes me... happy, that the world isn't as sad as we always make it out to be."

Cinders... what did you tell her?

Mrs Goldheart stood up on all fours. "Now it's my turn to say sorry," she chuckled. "Sorry for holding you both up! Come on in, please."

Something didn't feel right, trotting into the boarding house after what she said. I couldn't put my hoof on it, but it made me uneasy.

* * *

She opened the door for me, and the group of seven ponies sitting idly around the room looked up.

"There you go Miss Violet," Mrs Goldheart said, beaming.

"Thanks," I replied, giving a forced smile back to her as I entered the room, trying not to make eye-contact.

"And Master Breaker?" she said, holding the door. The two older colts in the room sniggered.

Cinders was sitting opposite to them on a cushioned bed. She gave them both death-stares, and hissed something under her breath. The two stopped.

Breaker hobbled into the room soon after, and Goldheart turned to Cinders.

"By the Magi I hope your leg gets better soon, dear," she said, keeping her sugar-sweet tone.

"Thanks Serenity, I appreciate it," Cinders replied. The grey mare shut the door.

With Mrs Goldheart out of the room, Cinders swung her head to me, and my jacket. "Y'alright, Crow? How's the corn?

'Crow', my nickname in the group. It came from my cutie mark, a black bird that had decorated my flank since a few months after our escape. I tended to steal the food for the group, so the nickname was a no-brainer.

I understood her message and turned sideways, revealing the side pocket I'd managed to keep the loaf in.

Cinders screwed her face. "That it? You spent the whole afternoon... on a piece of bread?" She worked her way off the bed, limping slightly.

"The trip back had a long... detour." I sighed, grabbing the bread out of my pocket, and placing it on the table beside a few of the younger foals.

"So... I bet it was you two who caused the problems with the guards today, huh?" she inquired. "I hedge my bets it wasn't your fault, either."

She turned to stare at Breaker, who briefly flinched, kept his mouth closed, and looked to the floor.

Ugh... no point saving his hide back then if he's booted out now.

I couldn't just watch and pray he didn't get thrown out. He was a newbie with only three weeks under his name. Cinders was ready to lose anypony she didn't want. She stared threateningly at Breaker as I said my piece.

"It was me. I alerted Pebbles at the plaza when I took the loaf. Breaker followed my orders as he was told."

Cinders perked up, and eyed me.

"Is that so?" she asked rhetorically, her crimson eyes piercing straight through me. The eyes reminded me how she found it so easy to terrify other ponies. I'd seen it plenty of times on me and the others, so the whole scare factor had worn off a bit.

After a short silence, her attitude faded, and she gave way to a smirk as she walked around me. "You wouldn't lie to me about just anypony, Crow. I didn't know that 'Mistress Violet' was into younger stallions."

At that, the entire room, aside from myself and Barn Breaker, burst out in sniggering fits. The colt was actually staring at me, his mouth slightly agape, as if he really believed what she said was true. I drooped my head low and sulked, my cheeks feeling awkwardly hotter.

"Great. You're a real joker, Cinders," I muttered.

"I know, right?" she sniggered, either not realising or more likely acknowledging and ignoring my clear-as-day sarcasm. She turned to the orange colt, making him flinch.

"I'll let it slide," Cinders said, "this time. Any more incidents regarding your sorry self and we have a serious problem, understand?"

The colt kept staring at me. I looked back at him, shaking my head to make my response to his curiosity as clear as possible. He turned back to Cinders.

"Uh, yeah. Understood."

"Good, I'm glad that's sorted. After we've all eaten, I want the table cleared for the daily meeting," Cinders ordered. She walked out of the room shortly after, and we began preparations for our food.

Dinner was going to be small, but it wouldn't be terrible. Thankfully two of the others, Parable and Yingling, managed to make some bits and pay for a few odd vegetables. We put together a decent soup with the permission to use Mrs Goldheart's fireplace and cooking equipment, and soon we filled various containers from around the room with it. Parable and I cut the bread into fair slices, her using the knife while I held the bread in place with one hoof, yawning. All the commotion from the day started taking its toll on me.

Parable served the foals by the beds. The rest of us took our servings to the other half of the room, where the table was. It was surrounded by two sets of chairs on either side, and another built slightly taller at the back, reserved for Cinders. I took my usual place on far right and Jemrock followed suit, sitting himself on the other chair next to me.

As was considered polite, we both sat towards the Cinder's chair. While this did make talking to one another difficult, we didn't really have another option with the types of chair we used. They were made as lay-chairs—that is, a chair intended for sitting around a warm fire and having a snooze in, not meeting around a table material, but the only ones we had. If I was to try to sit with two hooves in front, I'd probably fall off and embarrass myself further. As I sipped the mild carroty flavoured contents of the soup tin, I heard Jemrock from behind me.

"Don't worry Crow, we all have our off days every now and then. Remember when I slipped over my own hoof when I tried out pickpocketing for the first time a few months back?"

Who couldn't?

It must've been my off day, I thought. Though the colt was the one who screamed, it was my fault that he saw me. Maybe if I tried blending in a bit more, approaching from a different angle, he wouldn't have glanced our way in the first place? I pondered on it.

"You know, I always think back to what my mum always told me, before she left," The upbeat young stallion continued. "She said, 'Jemrock, there's two types of ponies in Equestria. There's losers, and there's winners. The losers always get mopey and sad when they don't do something right, but the winners, they get back up, take it in their stride and do it again, and I didn't raise you to be no loser, gosh darnit!'"

"Yeah, I guess," I muttered as I turned my head to my soup tin again. I could stand his attitude normally, but I was too tired. Finishing the last dregs of the comfortably warm soup, I placed the tin on the floor, giving me room to lower my head and rest my eyes.

* * *

There was a sharp pain in my back. Waking up from what I wasn't really intending to be a full-on nap, I saw the other four ponies sitting around the table, presumably waiting on me.

"Thanks Jemrock," Cinders murmured.

"I'm sorry, Cinders! This really isn't my day..."

"How about we don't make this into a habit?"

She turned to talk to the others, giving me some much needed thinking space. "Hehem. Now that we're all listening, let's talk. Parry, Ying, you two were at Westhoof housing for the day, correct?

"Selling information and pocket-duty as always, Cinders," Yingling said, bearing a cheesy grin. Parable nodded, looking distantly into space.

"Your haul today was twenty bits. It's good, and I won't deny it, but I feel there's room for improvement. Think you can aim for an extra ten tomorrow?"

Yingling shifted his head back, his eyes fixed on Cinders. "Twenty bits has never been a problem before... but I'm sure we'll get there with some teamwork," Yingling replied. He turned to face the young mare beside him. "Ain't that right, Parable?"

Parable nodded, paying even less attention to Yingling as I did with Jem. She was always pretty distant with us at meetings, the meeting we were having being no exception. I never talked to her much before, seeing as she never really wanted to. If anything, she seemed to take more interest in caring for the foals we found off the streets than chatting with us.

There might be something wrong. I should try talking to her at some point, see what's up.

"I know what you did, Jem," Cinders stated. "I appreciate you teaching the unicorn foals a bit of magic, they could really use it."

"No prob, Cinders!" Jemrock grinned.

"Tomorrow you'll be relaying a message, as well as some various odd jobs here and there I need you to go help with. Don't worry; I'll write a list for you."

Jem was, or appeared to be in Cinder's eyes, the perfect pony for the job. He never complained, never spoke out of line, always got on with what he was told to do. I always thought of him as the 'Simple Stallion' out of the bunch of us, and not in a bad way. It was actually kind of nice to get a positive point of view from time-to-time.

"And finally..." Cinders turned to me wearily, "Crow. I think we all know what happened today, so you needn't repeat it. I can't say I'm happy with the other two having to pitch in so we can have dinner. That said, I'm willing to put this aside, providing you can do the next job I've got planned for you right."

Cinders giving me a second chance, no punishment? She was friendly, sure, but not that friendly. The way she had sounded I'd have thought I was going to miss a meal, or something.

"Oh, uhh, so what's the job?" I asked, trying to suppress my relief.

"A client asked us for a burglary job at a big house out on Melody Street, tomorrow."

"You mean somepony from outside the group wants our help?"

She nodded briskly. "Yup. They want you to steal the owner's diary. I'll give you the directions before you head out."

I'd never done a job for a pony out of the group before! I didn't think any of us had, either. I couldn't believe that someone actually valued the skills we had, even wanting help from us, being as young as we were.

"It's clear I don't want this to go wrong, right?" Cinders continued.

"Sure! I mean, yes. Just give me the pony's name tomorrow, and you won't be disappointed, I promise."

"The name isn't important."

What?

"Um, excuse me Cinders, but if I don't know the name, how in Equestria am I meant to get the diary?"

"Like I said, the name isn't important," she said, remaining calm. "The client didn't specify who you're going to rob. They said where, and that, apparently, is all you need to know."

The meeting ended shortly after, and frankly, I was relieved. Departing from the conference table, I found myself soon lying on a cosy mattress with a stiff, but perfectly usable pillow below my head.

First impressions presumably counted, in a business where not doing your job right makes for a quick ride to prison, or worse. Above all, I had to make Cinders proud. Had she not gotten herself injured, she would do the job flawlessly. If I didn't do well, she'd hate me for it.

* * *

Am I home?

I galloped across open fields in an autumn breeze, and I couldn't be happier. The sky was bright, and the apples growing on the trees around me ripe and shiny.

I pranced across the beautiful scene and eventually came across a smooth hill. On the top, two ponies, a gold stallion and a lavender mare, stood together.

Getting closer, I saw the two in detail, making out the short blue-silver mane of the stallion, and the stunning red mane dropping from the mare's head down to form curves at the end, halfway down her body.

"You're back! We've been waiting so long to see you again, dear," my mother said as I galloped towards them. She smiled, crying tears of... joy?

"It's been a while, Violet! How about giving your old pap a hug, eh?" Dad roared, standing up and holding out his front hooves.

I grinned, and took him up on his offer. Charging like a madmare, I leapt into my father's embrace. I expected a warm hug, but instead, nothing.

The two ponies vanished as I plummeted, the hill dropping into darkness. Tall square grey structures rose above and encircled me, belching smog from their windows, suffocating me. I was on the floor, gasping for breath as a figure pierced through the shadows, her fire-like eyes fixed as she whispered to me.

"Crow! Hey, Crow, wake up! Get your lazy flank out of bed!"

I opened my eyes and found Cinders beside the bed, the room pitch-dark. Her furious expression was somewhat unnerving.

"Whu-whats up?" I muttered.

"Does 'robbing a mansion' ring a bell?" she said.

"Uh... no offense meant Cinders, but you said that would be tomorrow," I replied. "'Tomorrow' in Equestrian tends to mean the day after the one before, not the night before it."

"I'd like to ask you a question, Crow," she stated.

"And what would that be?" I asked, drifting back to sleep.

"Who in their right mind robs a mansion in daylight!?" she shouted, startling every pony in the room, and causing me to jerk my head back painfully into a wall. "Please, enlighten me with your logically sound words of wisdom!"

"Erm, well..." I started. "Uhh, heh he, whoops. When am I, uh, supposed to be going about this job, then?" I rubbed the back of my head with a hoof, the pain of my engagement with the wall seeping into my ears.

"How about getting up right now and running out the door in say, ten minutes, before I drag that mane of yours into Serenity's fireplace, and the rest of your head with it?"

"Of course! No problem, as you wish!" I babbled, her threats sounding anything but empty. Jumping out of my bed with an unexplained burst of energy, I made my way to the door.

"Twelve Melody Street," Cinders reminded me. "Break in, steal the diary, tonight. Don't. Get. Caught."

"Ow!"

I blindly waltzed into the doorframe unaware. Maybe not having hairs spread straight over my eyes would help?

I heard a long, drawn out sigh from behind me. Swiping my mane to aside in one elegant move, I made my way past the door, still moving cautiously in order to not injure myself further through the dark hallway.

I was out. Now, about that mansion…

* * *

The night was pleasant, at least. Not too cold or windy, and no rain. The moon reflected light on me and my surroundings from above. The grey forms of buildings stood in front of me, their windows shut, their doors locked. No one was awake, no one was looking. The perfect time to start up a crime.

I strode on for a moment and took the left, presenting me with a lop-sided staircase much smaller than the one in the plaza. Taking a look at the structures made me think back to the dream I had. I hardly recalled the minor details, but it was... strange. I'd had a dream like it before. The fields, and the tree, my parents. Had I seen them before? If it was true, I was too young to keep a mental picture. This dream, this visualisation of what they may look or have looked like, was the only thing I had. I didn't even know if they looked anything like it.

I turned at the second right, the clip-clop of my hooves echoing through the streets. The fields in the dream were all too beautiful. All my life was spent in the city. It felt like a jail, trapping me from experiencing a different life on the outside. Thing is, the city ran both ways. I could hate it as much as I wanted to, but I needed it to survive. I was never taught how to make an honest living, and I doubted that I'd learn myself.

I crossed the empty road, and found myself in an area with houses ten times the size of the ones back at the hideout.

Melody Street. One of these must be the place.

I trotted alongside the mansions, each bigger than the last, each finally made of brick and chiselled marble, along with some wood and metal decorative pieces in the gardens, with intricately designed benches and statues adorning the walkways leading from the entrances up to the mosaic patios.

There it was. The number twelve, stuck on an oak slab with two dragons playing with one another etched into the wood. The slab had been positioned on a metal fence surrounding the entrance to the mansion, with tiles laid into the earth underneath it. It was a wrought iron fence, with spikes adorning the top. Thus, my task became evermore harder.

The chances of me getting over it were practically null—the top of the fence stretched up, several times higher than me. The poles connecting the fence had nowhere for me to grab onto. I'd need some kind of rope or elevated position to get over, and there was the highly possible and somewhat unwanted chance of impaling myself doing so.

The way around was blocked by the fence and the neighbours' counterpart connecting with one another, sealing the gap between both gardens. If I was going to get in, the only way would be the front.

Does this have to be this difficult? I mean, really?

I took a walk around in search of inspiration. It didn't come in bundles. Simply trying a hoof at the gate predictably didn't work, as it was locked.

I could theoretically squeeze most of my body under the fence, but my head and back legs were too big. It was a shame, too, with the possible way in blocked by a mere few inches. I growled out of frustration.

The nearby mansion was also fenced off. The wooden fence was quite tall, similar to that of number twelve. I could get to the top if I could balance myself, jumping over that way... I didn't like the look of it. The motion would be needlessly dangerous, and the ever-looming threat of impalement stuck out like a sore claw.

The rest of the street was populated with more massive mansions, and their own fenced-off gardens. There were streetlamps positioned next to every other house. None of it helped. I walked up, and sat squarely on one of the tiles leading to number twelve, bashing the fence in frustration with a hoof.

It was taller than I realised, now that I had a proper chance to look at it. The metal bars were connected at the top and bottom by two horizontal bars, spanning across the entire width of the fence. They were much too far away to be used as positions to hold on to in order to climb up.

Looking down, I saw the tiles below the fence. The space between those was almost enough to crawl under, but... not enough.

That didn't mean I couldn't make the space bigger. An ingenious idea suddenly sprung to mind.

I stood up from the tile, and examined it. The tile, along with the others, were placed at slight inclines, revealing the dirt underneath.

I placed a hoof on either side of the one I was sitting on, and heaved upwards. It was tough work, but the tile slowly rose, revealing the dirt underneath. I placed a hoof on the underside of the tile, and slid it off to one side. Taking a look at the now barren soil, I could see that I'd be able to made a tunnel just high enough for me to go under.

I did the same manoeuvre with the other tiles until the one under the gate was gone. My path clear, I flattened myself on the ground, my back legs spread.

I had just enough room to squeeze under.

I stood up on the other side, my heart beating fast. I was ready to take on the next challenge—the mansion.

* * *

It was magnificent, a work of art, truly a wonderful thing to look at. However it needed to be broken into, one way or another.

Scanning around from the outside, I could see little-to-no way in aside from the windows and doors. I tried both of them with no luck. They were locked from the inside.

Smashing in was not the smartest idea if I didn't want to get caught, though there weren't many other options.

The entry I was particularly interested in was a large glass door at the back of the house. The owner probably used it to cool off indoors on a sunny day while still having a view of the garden, and honestly, I couldn't blame them. The flowers were amazingly well kept and flourished in the rich soil, arranged in colour to make a rainbow across the backyard. The owner was quite obviously either a gardener, or paid one of the best in all of Pastur to do it for him.

Hmm. Sticking on task would probably serve me better instead of admiring somepony's gardening skills.

I quickly formulated a plan of action while staring at the glass door. It wouldn't be easy, and it would require excellent timing on my part. It was also the only possible chance I could get at completing the job without having access to say, a key, which would have been really useful at this point. I really needed to ask Cinders if I could actually prepare for this sort of task beforehoof rather than going in blind.

Well, no time to lose. If I stood around 'til morning I wouldn't have a chance, and Cinders would kill me for being late. Swallowing hard, I trotted onto the patio, turned myself away from the glass, and closed my eyes.

Three, two, one...

I kicked the glass with as much strength as I could muster.

The resulting crash not only gave me shards of glass in my rear, and a high pitch noise ringing in my ears, but a quaint feeling of nostalgia. As the remaining shards came crashing down, I lowered myself, and at a gallop, threw myself inside. I heard shouting coming from somewhere, but I couldn't make out the words.

I bounded into a posh living room area, fit with leather chairs and a stone fireplace. There wasn't time to sit around and gawk at it. I spotted a couple of doors to the side and galloped to the nearest one, opening it and hastily shoving myself inside to avoid detection, and closing the door after. I was in a storage closet, and breathed a sigh of relief. All I had to do was wait.

I could hear what was going on around me. Hoofsteps from above indicated some sort of movement. There was some loud and aggressive barking, a dog tied up in someone's garden, maybe? I winced, hoping that the ravenous-sounding canine wasn't the owner's dog on the other side of the garden, and that I'd carelessly overlooked it.

I waited a while longer, until the hoofsteps had not only passed through the living room, but started making the sound of hooves on marble. A marble patio far away from direct line of sight. Time to initiate step two!

I broke out of the closet, and scurried across the living room floor in the direction I heard the hoofsteps come from before. Any pony at this time would have been sleeping, so I guessed that the owner had come downstairs from their bedroom. Where would a normal pony keep their diary? Their bedroom, of course.

The next room was the entrance room, with stairs to the right and the front door dead centre. The owner had also kindly placed rugs down on the floor and the stairs, muffling my steps. I sped up the stairs, arriving in front of three more doors, one already wide open.

More shouting echoed through from downstairs, in a voice that sounded like a stallion. I didn't have time to waste, and I had no idea where the owner would go. Had he heard me? I thought it near impossible to escape past on a single staircase with the owner chasing me. I had to hope that he hadn't, and carry on to finish the job. I looked quickly through the room. There were two cupboards, each holding several drawers. I opened them in quick succession.

A potion labelled 'Mane Grow', fake teeth... wait, a book? I turned the book around to read the label.

En-kly-ko-ped-ia of Equestrian and outer Equestrian plant life and cul, cult-i...something methods.

The owner appeared to be a pony of deep interest in long words, but I couldn't find his diary anywhere. The next couple of drawers held some scripts and copies of some kind of political speech, but no trace of private entries.

I'd taken a minute or so to scan through everything in the cupboards, and it wasn't there. Where would a stallion in what appeared to be his prime store their diary, anyway?

The answer came to me once I'd surveyed the room again. Under the pillow, which had been skewed in the owner's hurry to get out of bed, was the corner of a dark, brown book.

I threw the pillow aside and to my luck, there it was. The inner border was trimmed in gold, with no title or wording on the front. After flipping through a couple of pages criticizing the efforts of the author's cousin rather harshly in organising a recent Hearths Warming Eve performance, I could tell what this was. I snuck the stylish book into my jacket side pocket, and made my way out.

The owner was nowhere to be seen. I paced down the stairs to the front door, and tried my hoof at opening it. There were a couple of locks that I had to undo, but the door required no key to open from the inside.

There was a small problem, or to be more exact, I was the small problem. The metal bit that I had to pull on to open the door was just out my reach. I backed up and took a leap at it. I managed to bite hold of the handle, the steel cold in my mouth, and rather unpleasant-tasting.

After my weight pushed the door open, I fell down onto the floor, got up, and dashed out of the house. I heard more shouting, and distant barking from behind.

Did they see me?

Locating the gate, I squeezed yet again under the small hole I'd made, making sure not to scratch my back on the bars, as well as pressing my side pocket down to make sure I didn't lose the diary.

A bell started ringing in the distance. It was only a matter of time before the guards would come. I hurried out of the street from the way I came, into the darkness enveloping the roads.

I was soon far away from Melody Street. A look back ensured that nopony was out chasing me.

I've done it! I'd broken into a mansion, stolen the diary, and the guards were none the wiser.

The way back to the hideout was cold, and dark. It wasn't an issue for me, but was unsettling nonetheless. When I got back I was the only one awake, with even Cinders having gone to bed after I left.

The sky was a dark blue, likely early morning. I placed the diary on the table, and crept back into bed. It took a while to get to sleep again—I was still shaking with adrenaline.

* * *

A faint sound of scribbling on paper woke me up. I opened my eyes, and saw nothing but black. I promptly shoved the bedsheets off of my face, shining light into my eyes, and making everything blurry. After shaking my head gently, the room slowly came into focus, and a familiar dirty-yellow furred mare sat in the corner.

"C-Cinders?" I said, lifting my head up, my front hooves supporting me on the bed.

She stopped writing, and turned to focus on me.

"Y'know, you're the laziest pony I've met, Crow. It's midday," she said. Her voice was much more playful and upbeat than the day before. "You must've been up forever to get that book."

She trotted up to the bed, eyes on me.

"Funny thing, too, since I haven't heard a word of anypony being sighted. Rumour has it a burglar snuck in, but they never found a culprit."

She leant over and gave me a quick hug, with enough strength to leave me winded in the process. "That's the Crow, the Violet, that I know. Thanks."

I coughed a couple of times, trying to get my breath back. Regaining control over my voice, I asked a question that had only recently come to mind.

"So... what am I doing today, Cinders?"

"What are you doing?" Cinders chuckled. "Why in the hay would I give you a schedule on your day off?"

I looked at her, puzzled for a moment, my sleepy brain trying to process what she'd told me.

"A day... off?"

"You deserve it," she said, smiling at me.

I mirrored a smile back to her. She trotted back over to the work on the table, and picked up her quill with her teeth.

...What in Equestria am I supposed to do on a day off?