Effigy of Anarchy

“Yes, yes. That’s all it’ll take. Just one more cut.”

A knife clattered against the floor of the kitchen. The magic was at its most powerful just after the stroke of midnight, and the house at its most still. With this, the physical component could be discarded.

The loss of blood had been great. A weaker pony would have died, yet he had not. It was all worth it.

As he fumbled through the gloom towards the brightened outline of the doorway, he felt a spell of dizziness pass over him. He put too much strength behind his push, and threw the door to the side with a clatter.

Still, it had worked. Even as he fell over from his own weakness, he could feel the weight gradually lifting. There was no need for further concern, and that fact became clearer as the moments passed.

Another pony was running down the hallway towards him now, there was shouting. Screaming. Terrified at his wounds? No, not that, there were no cries for help, only to flee. Something had gone wrong.

He fought the blackness clawing at the edge of his vision as long as he could, trying to form words in his throat. Commands, instructions, a plea, whatever it would take. After some amount of time he was no longer able to determine, he felt his stomach being dragged along the rough hardwood floors by somepony out of his sight, and the darkness claimed him at last.

Silent kept peering through the binoculars, not wanting to take her eyes off the scene far below for even a moment.

“Chase. Everything went well with Flitter, I hope.”

It was not a question.

“Yeah,” Cloudchaser said, “... but she was a little rattled. I don’t think she remembers getting kidnapped at all.”

“I see,” Silent said. She lowered the binoculars for a moment and let Chase take in the deep amber of her eyes. Red veins ran from edge to pupil, and there were bags beneath.

“Uh, you okay?” Cloudchaser asked.

“Just fine. He hasn’t shown up yet. What have you been doing for the past two days?”

“Laying low, just like you said.”

“You left the hotel without checking out?”

Cloudchaser nodded. “Why?”

Silent shifted in place and produced a pair of saddlebags, previously hidden beneath her body against the concrete and snow of the building’s roof. She gently shook them to dust off the dirt which had found its way on top of them, and opened it. Silent pushed some things around inside and produced a slip of paper.

Cloudchaser took the paper and held it close to better read it in the moonlight. It was a newspaper clipping from the day after their run-in at the winery. The big font suggested a front-page affair. Squinting, Cloudchaser instead held it up into the air to better see through the moon’s backlighting.

‘WINERY RUNS RED. SUSPECTS WANTED FOR QUESTIONING.’

Cloudchaser swallowed hard as she slowly decoded the dim text. What was not difficult to see were the three pictures accompanying the article. They were an artist’s rendering of her face, Flitter’s, and Silent’s.

“Suspects?” she asked, “we didn’t do anything!”

“We’re public enemy number one right now, but that’s not the problem. That was printed the day of the incident.”

Cloudchaser raised an eyebrow. “How? How could they get an article printed so fast?”

“The presses were running before we got there. It was a set-up.”

“Eep,” Chase said. She read more of the article, but it wasn’t anything she hadn’t already seen.

“We’re dealing with a very well-connected pony. For obvious reasons, we need to keep out of sight,” Silent said.

“Well, the good news is they don’t know our names.”

“They do, but they didn’t print them.”

“Huh?” Chase asked.

“I don’t know why, but I know that Messerschmitt knows who were are. He must not have told the papers, or they’d surely have printed them.”

Cloudchaser’s eyes suddenly popped open. “Flitter! She - “

“She’ll be safe. Nopony knows where you’re from. If you lay low until the heat’s off, you’ll be fine.”

Chase grimaced. “Silent, are you trying to talk me out of this?”

Silent raised her binoculars again and looked into the distance.

Cloudchaser just stood in the snow, waiting for Silent to give an indication that would never come. Each time Silent stiffed her like this, it was not forgotten, just ignored.

A snarl caught in Chase’s throat as the memories returned to her; this was exactly what it had been like in school. She would never associate with anypony and never reveal what she was thinking. She would keep her head down until the bell rang, then vanish in the confusion. Her demeanor was the same now, save that the ringing of a bell had been replaced with the kidnapping of a sister.

Had anything changed?

At least Silent was talking to her, or at her. Even then, only when it suited her.

Better than nothing.

“Listen, I’m not backing out,” Chase said at last.

“Good.”

“Good? You’re not going to try to stop me?“

“If you’re going to help, you’re going to help. If I try to stop you, you’ll help anyway. I’ve seen it before and I’m well aware of the alternatives.”

Silent dropped the binoculars and swivelled her head to look straight into Chase’s eyes. Chase wilted slightly at the glare.

“But,” Silent said, “You need to do exactly what I say, exactly when I say to do it. If you want to help, you need to trust me.”

Trust, the basis of friendship. Had it finally happened? Had those fragile seeds of friendship sown years ago finally blossomed, or was there something else to it?

Chase had not promised payment, and Silent had not mentioned it thus far. The initial crisis had passed, and Silent had every reason to abandon her. She had not.

A very small voice in the back of Cloudchaser’s mind cast doubt with just one word: yet. Chase swallowed hard.

“Fine,” Cloudchaser said, gritting her teeth.

Without so much as a nod, Silent turned and resumed observing through the binoculars.

A chill began to set into Chase’s bones as they sat and waited for something to happen. She began to pace in place, and soon found herself walking in circles across the top of the roof.

For all the world, Silent was a particularly ornate statue mounted atop a building; a gargoyle, were she not attractive. While her face and hair were relatively plain and unremarkable, the colts at school had often whispered about her. Something about the mystery and distance was exciting, while simultaneously impossible for the other girls to replicate. Flitter had tried. Chase was a little ashamed to admit she had tried as well.

Chase ceased her pacing and turned to Silent, now with a soft snow covering on her mane. In truth, there was something profoundly pathetic about her. Cloudchaser wasn’t sure what, exactly, that could be. It was entirely possible that Silent had her own life, far away, with friends and colleagues, and had taken time out of that to help an old acquaintance, but all that seemed too much to believe. Which was more likely: that Silent was great and famous and popular someplace else? Or… or that there was no place else?

“Silent, I want to know…”

“There,” Silent said, tightening her grip on the binoculars.

Cloudchaser followed her sight but only saw small blobs of color at this distance. A moment passed in the usual silence before Chase rolled her eyes.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What am I looking at?”

“Sorry,” Silent said, holding the binoculars up for Chase to take a look.

Cloudchaser sat near the edge of the building and took a look at the scene unfolding a few blocks away. Well-dressed ponies, adorned with tuxedos, gowns, and dresses, shifted uncomfortably in the freezing air. A sense of relief visibly passed over the crowd as the bouncers stepped aside to allow the crowd inside the hall.

“Who am I looking for?” Chase asked.

“The colt surrounded by bodyguards in blue.”

In the shifting sea of black tuxedos, one stood apart from the rest. Guards, of course, encircled this pony. Rich ponies usually felt the need to have security for some reason. Most of them, however, did not have their security dressed in matching blue vests.

“That’s him?”

“Messerschmitt,” Silent whispered.

“Why all the security?”

Chase lowered the binoculars and turned to Silent, who was now organizing her saddlebag. Silent looked up and stared for a few moments as Cloudchaser slowly realized she wanted her binoculars back.

“Where are we going now? Aren’t we gonna spy on that guy?”

“No, I just needed to see who he was with.”

Silent replaced the binoculars, sealed the bag, and flared her wings for takeoff. She had already leaped into the darkness by the time Chase figure out what was going on. In a half-panic, Cloudchaser likewise ran to the building’s edge.

Seeing only the dim glow of the distant street lamps below, she gathered her courage and cast herself into the night.

“I’ve been doing a bit of digging into this Messerschmitt guy,” Silent said, keeping her voice as low as possible while still being heard over the air currents.

“And?”

“Nothing.”

Again, Cloudchaser waited for Silent to continue. Again, she did not.

“Nothing - what? Like, he doesn’t exist? I’m pretty sure I just saw him.”

“He’s a nopony, a non-entity. He’s not from Trottingham and the city directory didn’t list him until just under a year ago. He had no friends, no contacts, and no job. I haven’t pulled his tax records yet, but I’m not expecting anything incredible.”

“Tax rec - Silent, how did you find all this out?”

Silent shrugged. “I have my ways. You’d be amazed what records they keep at City Hall.”

“And the guards didn’t arrest you?”

“Who says they saw me?”

Cloudchaser sucked in her breath. Uncomfortable memories of the winery had resurfaced, and she was suddenly no longer interested in this conversation.

The pair soared over the snowy rooftops of downtown Trottingham. As they began to reach its edge, the great James River rolled into view past the receding highrises and towers. Even the mighty James had frozen over in the frigid climate, and the mark of hoofprints and skate lines could be seen criss-crossing its surface.

Now the two were approaching the suburbs which comprised most of Trottingham proper. The downtown, while a modern miracle, was still only a small blip on the city’s landscape. Far out into the distance, extending to the base of the mountains, lay thousands of houses and small business in a chaotic, jumbled grid. Nearly every house was darkened, and the night around them was quiet.

“So, this guy. Mister Something,” Chase began.

“His first name is Roger,” Silent said.

“Right, Roger. If he’s a nopony, how’d he get so well connected? How can he afford all those guards?”

“We’re answering that question tonight.”

“Okay,” Chase said, trailing off before adding a hasty, “How?”

“We’re breaking into his house.”

Cloudchaser’s wing missed a stroke and she lost a bit of altitude. Silent didn’t seem to notice her quickly flapping to catch up.

“Seriously? Silent, have you gone nuts? What if we get caught?” Chase demanded.

“We won’t. His goons are protecting him tonight. He has twelve, and there were ten at the show tonight.”

“Huh,” Chase said, “I saw eight.”

“There were two more running interference ahead of him. That means that Lily and Alabaster are guarding his house tonight.”

“You know their names? How?”

Silent shrugged again. “I have my ways.”

Cloudchaser was about to protest when Silent decided to elaborate.

“I heard them taking roll-call last night. Are you happy now?”

“Yes. Wait - how did you know I was going to ask you?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Silent replied, “and you don’t make a secret out of what you’re feeling.”

Cloudchaser sighed.

Below them now, they passed a cut in the grid of Trottingham. Once a great stone wall in the time when the city was little more than a fort guarding the trading routes of the James river, it had now weathered into a string of rounded boulders that nopony could be troubled enough to haul away. Beyond lay the homes of the rich and the secretive.

Messerschmitt’s mansion, though no larger than its immediate peers, nonetheless seemed so much the greater for its position. The grounds around it were the size of a hoofball field, complete with a tall metal fence and ringed with evergreen trees. In the midst of that stood the grand house: cold, dark, and isolated.

Silent and Chase, as usual, perched themselves some distance away from their target. Chase did it herself this time, without needing any prompting from Silent. Before she could feel any pride at the display, a passing snowflake tickled her nose just enough to set off a sneeze. Chase fought hard to keep the sudden burst at bay, presumably looking like a fool in the process. Fortunately, Silent had not been looking, and had ignored the wheezing coming from her friend; her eyes and ears were trained on the looming building across the hedge.

“What are we waiting for?” Chase whispered.

“There are no lights on in the house. I want to know where the two guards are.”

As Chase waited next to Silent for something to move, her thoughts drifted back to a time when she had been much younger. Strangely enough, it had been Flitter that had dragged her into that mess, too.

Flitter had become enamored with firebugs, an insect much like the ladybug which would glow on certain nights in the spring. They would cluster together during some arcane mating ritual and create a ballet of lights that lasted the whole night, if you stayed awake long enough to watch. Of course, the display could only be seen if you were quiet and still, otherwise you’d scare the firebugs off. So, they’d hold their breath and wait, until they’d see the faint outlines in the dark behind the schoolhouse.

Thinking of those days brought Silent back to the front of her thoughts. Was she reminiscing as well? If she was, there was no sign of it, merely an unending stare at the house across the way. Perhaps that focus was her special talent.

Silent’s cutie-mark was a scroll. Many ponies had the same mark, of course, usually authors or accountants. Silent fit neither description, yet the mark was there for all to see. What did it mean? How had she gotten it? Chase had never asked, and she wasn’t certain that Silent would have told her.

Cloudchaser hung her head. It kept coming back to this, every time her thoughts went one way they cycled right back. She had agreed to help Silent, to put her trust in a pony who really was a stranger, and she still had no idea why Silent was helping her.

“Silent?”

“Hush!” Silent said. Her eyes were still locked on the house across the street.

“Why did you come when I sent that letter?”

Silent let out a low hiss and said, “Somepony’s coming.”

Two figures had departed the mansion and were making their way down the partially snowed-over walkway. Chase tried to see who it was, but the moonlight was nearly totally obscured from the cloud cover, and the hedges guarded the figures from the light of the street lamps.

The grinding of metal on stone signalled the aged gate’s permission of the ponies. They were talking to one another, and quite loudly, considering the late hour.

“... what place is going to be open at this time of night?” asked the female, presumably, ‘Lily’.

“I know the owner. He’s in the shop, cleaning up, right now,” replied Alabaster.

“He’s gonna be mad if you ask for food after hours.”

“Nah, I help him do the dishes afterwards. It’s cool, I’ve done this before.”

The voices continued as they made their way down the darkened street, leaving behind a trail of two narrow sets of hoofprints. Silent remained motionless until they were well out of both sight and earshot.

“Are they just leaving the place unguarded?” Chase asked.

Silent flared her wings and leaped into the air, clearing the trees around the lot before dipping to skim the snowy earth. Chase shook her head and followed shortly after, feeling her courage falter as each beat of her wings brought her closer to the building.

Her nerves intensified as the mansion loomed. Sudden visions of a throng of guardsponies bearing down on them the moment they kicked in a window or picked a lock danced in front of her eyes. It was all she could do to keep from screaming as she landed behind Silent in front of the main entrance.

Silent was examining the door, giving Chase enough time to calm herself down. She thought that being rational would keep the fear away. Nopony knew they were there. The nearest guard station must be a twenty-minute flight away. The guards weren’t going to come back early. Everything would be fine.

“We’re going in through the front door?” Cloudchaser asked. She felt her heart slow and her chest relax when she distracted herself
with talking.

“Keeps the suspicion off.”

“Huh?”

Silent did not take her eyes from the door’s lock, and kept her voice in a measured monotone.

“Anypony can use the door, only a pegasus can use the windows. The more suspects Messerschmitt has when he finds out we were here, the better.”

“But he knows it’s us, right?”

Silent shook her head. “Can’t rise as high as he has without making a lot of enemies.”

Silent pushed the door and it opened effortlessly. Either it hadn’t been locked, or Silent had picked it with that impenetrable stare of hers. Either way, the way forward was clear.

“At least it’ll be warm. I’m freezing out here,” Cloudchaser said.