My target had arrived at Freeport.
From my vantage on the rooftops, I recognized a unicorn stallion disembark from one of the larger ships at the pier. He wore a red cardigan over his chestnut coat, a small pocket watch tucked away in his breast pocket. His greying mane, coiffed in a silky sheen, betrayed age to his otherwise youthful face. And on his flanks were the twin sets of balancing scales, one side piled high with coins, while the other held a meager amount. Tipped Scales, indeed.
The target quickly orientated himself before setting off at a brisk pace, as though eager to leave the busy dock.
Even in the middle of the night, the port still bustled with activity. Workers loading and unloading goods and other merchandise on trade boats. Captains speaking with customs officers about their cargos. The air ran thick with the smell of sweat and brine, suffocating any unaccustomed to the windless harbor.
As he passed beneath me, I slowly rose and quietly prowled after him, spreading my wings only to leap from one rooftop to another. Throughout, he remained oblivious to my presence as he made his way to an old tavern, the Wyvern’s Den. He only stopped long enough to sigh, like someone about to undertake an unpleasant task, before pushing in.
Alright, now for the hard part.
I once again spread my wings and leapt from my roof across the cobblestone street and lightly landed on one of the tavern’s balconies. I knocked twice on the door and waited. It wasn’t long before I heard the door unlatch and open as much as the chain lock would allow. An amber-coated unicorn mare peered through the gap. “Rosetta,” I greeted quietly.
Her green eyes narrowed beneath her caramel-coloured mane, quickly glancing at my dark coloured vest, then the small saddlebags that covered my flanks, and back to my face. “Do you realize what time it is?”
Our agreed passphrase. “It is unto the morrow. But the night is still young, and there is much we can still do.”
She visibly relaxed. “Then let us attend to those before the dawn rise.” She let out a breath. “Finally, you’re here. The wait was murder.”
“I did not arrive a second after the predicted time,” I said levelly, choosing to ignore her choice of words.
“This one supposes, but still…” She shuffled. “It is not pleasant.”
I glanced around. All clear. “Be that as it may, perhaps you could open the door?”
She hastily removed the last lock, and the door swung open. “In.”
I nodded in thanks and walked past her. She closed the door behind me as I quickly scanned the single room. There was nopony else in sight. Illuminated by enchanted gems, the room held the otherwise typical provisions of an inn, namely a bed, a dresser, a footlocker, and a door leading to the bathroom.
There was also a table, on which I saw a book, carving tools and a case full of small stones; the tools of her trade.
“I see you’re making runestones,” I observed, moving up for a closer look. “Are you sure it is a good idea to bring them here?”
She snorted and waved dismissively. “If anyone is stupid enough to try to steal these, the runestones will be a greater danger to them than anyone else.”
Ah, so she’s been experimenting. That’s … not quite as reassuring as I’d hoped. “Perhaps … but I’d rather avoid having others caught in the blast.”
She rolled her eyes. “This one assures the Thorn-stallion, no one will attempt to steal runestones of which they know nothing of; they’d not be able to sell any. If they really want to sell this one’s work, they’d come after this one’s journal.”
I sighed, staring at the book in question, no better secured than the stones themselves. “Well, take care not to lose that then.”
“This one never parts with it,” she said, as if that closed the discussion.
I decided not to point out that keeping it on one’s person is hardly the safest place to keep anything. All it takes is one very determined thief to mug her on the street, or a skilled pickpocket walking by. For that matter, I could probably steal it from her right now without her noticing, were I so inclined. The anti-magic gems and Rosetta’s own runes hidden in my vest would probably protect me from whatever measures she has placed on the book. And unfortunately, she’s only barely adequate in a fight. As far as I’m concerned, the only thing keeping her and her book safe is the fact that she’s merely an up-and-coming runecaster; respectable enough among some circles but hardly world-famous. In the meantime, though…
“The Council has hired us to eliminate a threat to Freeport’s trades,” I reminded cooly. “Tipped Scales has been strong-arming a few too many businesses into dealing exclusively with him and his partners. Given the nature of our task, it would be best if we are entirely focused and not…” I glanced at the runestones. “Sidetracked.” The last thing I needed right now was a detour to get them back.
She grumbled impatiently. “This one told you, only an idiot would try to steal those.”
“Do not rely on the stupidity of the action to not account for it. Idiots we have in abundance, Rose. Remember, we need to know who the target’s partners are, and this distraction may prevent you from completing your objective of tracking the contact while I deal with the target.”
Her eyes tightened into a glare. “This one knows what it needs to do, and it will get it done,” she said through gritted teeth. Time to back off.
“I trust that you will.” Otherwise she wouldn’t be here. I rubbed my forehead. “Still, you are no longer a contingency plan—you are taking care of half the job. And this being your first Council job as well, I would prefer you did not take unnecessary risks.”
“This one understands, but it assure you they’ll be safe. This one will not let you down.”
Hmph. Ah well, it’s not like we could do anything about it at this point anyway. “So be it.” Last order of business, then. “Is there anything else about this place I should be aware of?”
“This one did not see our target come upstairs,” Rosetta informed me. “And this tavern does not have a basement. Tipped Scales should still be in the pub.”
I nodded, walking towards the door. “Then it’s time for us to find out who else is involved in this.” I paused at the door and glanced back. “Stand by and keep watch, in case we have a runner.” I motioned at her table. “That means until the job’s over, no working on your runes.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, this one will be ready to assist you.”
With a satisfied nod, I slipped out of the room into the noisy hallway. In the distance, I could hear drunken sailors and mercenaries singing what were probably supposed to be sea shanties, though their slurred words and off-tune melody grated at my ears. It lends great credit to the bedchambers that not a modicum of this jarring noise could be heard from within.
The Freeport condottieri makes it a point to keep the docks reasonably clean and sanitary, free of rowdy people like these; as such, sailors come to taverns positioned a good distance away from the port such as this one for their celebrations and loosening up in more ways than one.
Suffice to say, I am not fond of these places.
“Hard part indeed,” I muttered to myself as I made my way down the hall towards the cacophony.
It did not take me long to find my well-groomed target in the midst of all the fracas on the ground floor. He currently sat alone with his elbows on the table, his forehead resting against his hooves. I can only surmise that he had some sound filtering spell; otherwise I can’t imagine him being able to nap in a place like this.
Many ponies had approached him, with offers of either a drink to share or a night of debauchery. My target pointedly ignored every one of them. Blending into the environment was evidently not among his skillset.
Meanwhile, I made a few polite conversations and even shared a few drinks. Nothing alcoholic of course, as those things tasted vile and I needed my senses sharp. That said, the drunken caterwauling may very well have made my ears bleed if I’d had to endure it for much longer.
Fortunately, I did not have to wait long. My target was soon approached by a rather ragged-looking mare. She looked to have been in the streets for a long while now, if the missing patches in her auburn coat and her frazzled blond mane was any indication. Her cutie mark was that of a leaking coin pouch, but she was an otherwise inconsequential earth pony.
This was the contact my target was meeting?
Observing my target’s face and lips, I noted he was every bit as surprised as I was. “Are you the King of Thieves?” his lips formed, but his voice was inaudible in this noise and at my distance.
She said something, but her back was turned to me.
My target glanced as his cutie mark and back with a flat expression. “Do you figure?” A smirk crept onto my face; she must’ve asked if his name was Tipped Scales.
She did not answer. Instead, she jerked a hoof up and hovered around his face. Her hoof wore a bracelet bearing an enchanted gemstone. Despite the slightly peculiar appearance, I recognized the jewelry’s green glow: a changeling detector.
That this mare had such a device was telling. She wasn’t just some street dweller. She had contacts, resources, or both. I did not believe she stole it herself; her movements were too stiff—too imprecise—to be that of a competent pickpocket, much less a ‘King of Thieves.’ Most likely a surrogate, then.
Whoever I was dealing with was cautious, alright. Pity. I was hoping with this meeting I’d know my next target and pick up a new contract from there.
After the contact had finished scanning him, they exchanged a few more words. My target frowned, his horn glowing as he weaved another spell. Perfect. My wings twisted, pulling out a runestone and, with a quick flick, tossed it near their hooves, unnoticed by either. I saw the air shimmer around them, and for lack of better expression, I lost sight of them.
This was some advanced form of the privacy spell. Its effects were similar to that of the Background Pony spell, except more directed towards an area than an individual. Trying to focus on them is not impossible, especially if one already knew they were there, but it’d be akin to staring at empty space; sooner or later, even a dust mote would distract you. So far though, his spellwork was consistent with my preparations.
I pulled out a second runestone and pressed it to my ear, forcing myself to tune out every sound but the one coming from this rock. I could eventually hear my target’s voice.
“... do not understand why you would insist we meet in such an unsanitary place.”
“Don’t ask me,” the contact answered. I immediately picked up on the raspiness of her voice, as though her throat were as dry as sandpaper. Despite being here, in a watering hole, she clearly hasn’t had anything to drink in a while. “I’m just here to deliver a message and to receive our pay.”
“Your pay?” He scoffed. “I will only pay if I see the King of Thieves in person, not some stand-in for him.”
“He said you might say as much.” She paused. “And that it was fine. You would be a fool if you had decided otherwise.”
“Good to see he still has some sense in him. For a moment, I thought his mind might have gone for being in the slums too long.”
“Do not insult our king!” she snarled.
“Peace.” His voice was more condescending than placating. “I have, after all, been proven wrong. But onto business: what is this message that you are to deliver?”
The mare hesitated. “You are certain no one can hear us?”
“Do you not know a privacy spell when you see one?”
“Are you sure it worked?”
There was a momentary pause before the target chuckled cruelly. “I could have my way with you on this table right now, and no one would ever know.” There was a slight creaking noise that I could only guess was him shifting his weight onto the table. “If you still doubt me, perhaps I should demonstrate?”
The contact inhaled sharply, and I was certain that stomp I heard was her barely stop herself bolting. “You wouldn’t dare.” There was a slight tremor in her voice; I was certain I heard it crack. It was clear she was more hoping than believing that to be true.
Remember your objective, I had to remind myself. I made a mental note: the contact was easily intimidated, likely crumbling any defenses she may have had. She was probably some fresh recruit to this King of Thieves’ circle, given a simple task to prove herself. It would make interrogating her easier.
“Who knows?” my target mused. There was another creak. He had leaned back. “But enough stalling. What is the message? For your sake, I hope it is something important and not a waste of my time. Goodness knows the Thief may have time to waste, but I certainly do not.”
I could hear the messenger taking a few deep breaths, forcing herself to relax. “The King has three things to say.” She hesitated. I can only guess she was trying to remember the exact words.
“Go on…” he prompted impatiently.
“First, the Queen has arrived near the Portmaster.” Queen? Well, with a title like King of Thieves, I suppose it only makes sense there’s a queen involved somewhere.
My target made a satisfied noise. “Finally! I was wondering how long it would take her to move her lumbering—”
“Second,” she interrupted, obviously not listening. Eager to get this over with, are we? “He has agreed to your terms.”
This time, he chuckled again. “No surprise there. My offers are impossible to refuse after—”
“Third … um…” The contact hesitated.
“If you tell me you forgot his message, I will be very annoyed.” He snorted. “Especially after you so rudely interrupted me twice.”
“No, it’s just short. He said it is you.”
The statement was followed by a deathly silence. I glanced up at their booth. My target had grown three shades paler, as though she had just read his death sentence. In a way, she very much did.
That last bit of news was also distressing for me. Somehow, my secondary target had been alerted to my presence, or at least to my approach. By some fortune, he had not alerted my target ahead of time. Still, I had either been sloppy or there was an information leak that I am going to have to patch up.
“You should have told me that one first…” he finally said, as I lowered my head again.
“S-sorry?” She too had probably sensed the murderous tone his voice had adopted.
There was a deep breath. “Do you even understand what you have told me?”
“I don’t... No.“
“Well then, stupid girl,” he said with forced composure. “It means someone is coming after me, that someone is tracking me down. Now do you understand?”
“Is that bad?” she squeaked.
“Of course it’s bad, you complete moron!” he roared, standing with a clatter. True to his words, no one else in the tavern noticed his outburst. “You should not have delivered the first two messages!”
“B-but you said nopony could listen in on us anyway!”
The stallion sighed, forcing himself to calm. “Right, right. Unfortunately though, it seems I have been found out, and all links to me are to be cut, all evidence has to be destroyed. I will also require your silence on this matter as well.”
A bit late for that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.
“I… I’m sorry. I will not speak of this to anyone.”
“I’m afraid your willing silence is not good enough.”
“Wha…” The contact’s tone grew agitated. “Wait, what are you doing?”
“Severing ties.” There was a cracking noise, followed by a scream.
I barely saw her burst out of his spell’s bubble and flee the tavern. My target quickly emerged, in hot pursuit.
“Get back here!”
I sighed to myself as I casually walked to what remained of their booth—the splintered wreck that had once been a table and a scorched seat where the mare had been. I noted how he had managed to do no small amount of damage in a single spell. Most likely, I was dealing with a Beta-level unicorn. Not that it will do him any good. I quickly plucked my runestone from beneath the wreckage and simultaneously dropped a bag of coins on the remaining seat.
“For the damage,” I said in passing to the innkeeper. He merely nodded, as though this were an everyday occurrence, and moved on to clean up. The other patrons had stopped singing, but none seemed too disturbed by what they just saw.
“Probably some wench who robbed him,” one sailor casually remarked and was met with nods and agreements. None of the present condottieri, off-duty as they were, seemed inclined to disagree.
I stepped out into the stone-paved streets of Freeport. I quickly found a trail of blood specks leading into one of the alleyways. Seems like she survived after all; not enough blood.
I followed the trail into the dark alleyways, which looked to be the tavern’s dumpster, and soon found him with the mare’s unmoving form on his back. By the light of the moon, he was confronted with two condottieri guards.
This complicated matters. Where did they come from? Can’t be breakaways from a patrol; a body tends to draw the attention of a whole squad. Can’t be hired swords either; I would have spotted them on the way here otherwise.
I glanced at the horn protruding from the lead’s helmet and the club floating at his side, and the wingblades his partner was wearing. Must be a pair on break or ending their shift then. Rose would have alerted me if it were anything more.
“What did you get yourself into this time, Scales?” the unicorn asked.
“What do you mean ‘this time’?” my target demanded indignantly.
“Well,” the other guard said in a gruff voice. “This ain’t the first time we had to help you cover up for murder.”
“Not murder, yet,” the first observed, nudging the body. “She’s still breathing.”
“Yes, well, I need you two to dispose of her, make sure she can’t squawk to anyone.” My target unceremoniously dumped her body among the trash. “In the meantime, I need to—” He turned in time for me to draw my wing and slash him across the throat.
Quick. Simple. Efficient.
He staggered back, clutching his bleeding neck and gurgling, before collapsing in a puddle of his own blood.
“Assassin!” I caught motion in my peripheral and sidestepped a downward slash as the pegasus guard tried to pounce me. With a quick kick, I sent the probably inexperienced guard stumbling back towards his partner, who had dropped his crippling mace in favour of a couple of small but more lethal kineblades. Took him all of three seconds to bring it out; magically inept or also inexperienced.
Honestly, he’d probably do better with the mace.
Taking advantage of their hesitation, I distanced myself and stepped aside, spreading my wing out towards the alley entrance. “I have no quarrel with you nor do I wish you harm. There is no further need for violence. You may walk away freely, with your honour intact.”
“Or we can drag your ass back to the Forlorn Isles and skin you alive!” The unicorn pawed the ground, ready to charge.
Really? Pity.
I sighed. “Enough blood has been split tonight.” Still, I had no intention of wasting time in Freeport’s prison. With lightning speed, I pointed my wing at them in a challenge, sneering when they flinched. “But you are welcome to try anyway.”
The pegasus leapt into the air—his angle suggested a flanking maneuver—while the unicorn flicked his horn, sending one of his kineblades lunge towards me, and chased it in a charge.
With a quick spin of the wing, I deflected the blade into the adjacent wall—dissipating his aura around it—and crushed it beneath my metallic gauntlet. A unicorn’s telekinesis grows weaker the further away the object is. He left himself wide open for disarming.
Meanwhile, he did not make it halfway towards me before stumbling with a pained scream when his hoof had discovered the caltrops I had just scattered. Not waiting for him to crash into the ground, I rushed over my trap and slammed him back, knocking his head against one of the metal dumpsters. He was down.
I turned in time to parry the other guard’s blow, his wingblade shearing off a few of my feathers, revealing the reflective surface of one of my featherblades. I redirected his blow into the rim of the same dumpster. His wing bounced off painfully, and while he was still debilitated, I punched him in the face. He stumbled back, only for his hind legs to jerk up in pain. Before he could regain his balance, I snatched him and brought his face into the wall next to his partner. He, too, was down.
Again: Quick. Simple. Efficient.
I shrugged and rolled my shoulders and wing joints, working the tension out of my muscles. Pointing my right wing towards the shadow hiding my caltrop spikes, I pulled out another one of Rosetta’s runestones. With a quick toss in the general direction, I braced my wing as a cloud of small triangular objects were lifted in a pale green aura and shot itself into a small hidden canister. The device shut with a click.
After retrieving the pebble, I turned my attention back towards the two condottieri. The pegasus was still stirring, struggling to get back onto his hooves but otherwise in no state to fight. The unicorn remained unmoving.
Kneeling down, I examined the unicorn’s front hooves. A triangular caltrop spike was still impaled through one of his hooves, the barbed tip ensuring it was well stuck. A closer examination showed that it had cut through his hoof completely. He would need to get this looked at or risk an infection. Still, I breathed a relieved sigh. He was unconscious not because I had caused some severe brain damage, but because the zebrican paralyzing agent my caltrops were doused in had kicked in.
In terms of hoof pain, the other guard had been a bit more lucky. His hind hoof did not step fully on the caltrop, and it was relatively shallow. He’ll be fine after a while. Still, I plucked the caltrop spike from his hoof and nicked him with it. His movements soon also slowed.
I heard the sound of hoofsteps behind me. Judging by the weight of each steps and the rhythm, I had a fairly good guess who it was. My guess was all but confirmed when I saw the momentary flash of green light.
“Didn’t seem like you needed my help after all,” Rosetta mused behind me.
“Actually, I probably still do,” I answered without looking back. I motioned at the unicorn’s hoof. “Mind removing this caltrop? Gently, if you please.” Telekinesis tended to work better for removing barbed items without causing further damage than hooves or feathers.
I was certain she was rolling her eyes behind me. “Sure.” She knelt down besides me, carefully extricating the metal spikes.
Leaving her to her work, I checked on my target. He had long bled out or drowned in his own blood. I examined the wound I had inflicted. Single clean cut. Severed jugular vein. Death was swift. Good.
After taking whatever evidence and clues I could find, which included a few documents and a money pouch holding only enough for a petty bribe, I moved over towards the messenger mare. First degree burn on her front right hoof and small cut on her forehead. The detection charm on her other leg was intact. She was still bleeding slightly, but nothing a wrap of medical tape won’t staunch. Her breathing was steady, so no damage to her ribs or lungs.
“You got the medical supplies?” I asked. Rose nodded and wordlessly floated the first-aid kit over.
I quickly finished wrapping her head in bandage and provided any other first aid I could. I then lifted her tiny frame onto my back. Treating her wounds was fine and all, but I still had some questions for her.
“That Scales’s contact?” Rosetta asked, rising with me and dropping the extracted caltrop in another case.
“Yeah. Though turns out she’s just a grunt that’s been sent to deliver a message.” I adjusted her position, making sure she won’t fall off. “We need to find out who she’s working for.”
“Where do we take her?” Rose asked.
I made a shushing motion, meaningfully glancing at the downed guards. I then jerked my head towards the inn’s upper floors.
She jerked her head in surprise, staring at me in shock. “Seriously?”
“The walls are soundproof, and we shouldn’t need anything else for this interrogation. It shouldn’t take us too long.” And honestly, given how I could almost see her skin clinging to her ribs through her frayed coat, she would need the care whether I had use for her or not.
“You know how to make her talk?”
“I have my suspicions,” I answered. “But nothing concrete. Worst comes to worst, you’ll have to get through to her somehow while I report to our client.”
“And what about the guards? Won’t they be searching this area?”
I glanced back at them and the small insignia inscribed on their chest piece. “They will be more concerned with covering up their failure than to find the culprit. We need not worry.”
She considered me for a bit, before nodding. “Alright then. I’ll go on and open the upper door; otherwise, I doubt you’d go in unnoticed.” She pointed at my right side.
I glanced down. Sure enough, my wing and part of my dark vest was splattered with my target’s blood. I suppose uncleanliness is one of the major drawbacks of using a small, concealed weapon, such as the featherblades I wore.
Except, remembering the state of the patrons within the bar, I could only snort. “I’m not so sure.” Still, no sense in taking unnecessary risks. If one of the off-duty condottieri in there decided to ask questions, that will be at least three I beat down tonight.
“What shall we do with those two?” Rosetta asked, nudging one of the guards. He stirred with a groan, but otherwise did not rise.
“Leave them,” I answered simply, flying up to the rooftops without a second look back. “Some patrol will walk by and find them eventually.”
It was a few hours before the young mare woke up. I had by then already cleaned the vest I wore and my hidden featherblades. The blood had come out easily enough, especially with the help of a few of Rosetta’s rocks.
The documents I had found, or at least the parts that weren’t stained in blood, had been mostly meaningless without context. They included a few trade agreements, though the names were lost, and notes to banks accepting or distributing payments. For now, most of them looked regular enough.
I had then posted myself near one of the windows, observing a patrol discover the scene. As predicted, they hid the evidence of two of their own being defeated; it would not do if people found out they couldn’t handle one pony, after all. Or worse, that a murder occurred right in front of them and they were helpless to stop it.
I had been watching them carry the body away when Rosetta told me our guest was awake. I found her sitting on the bed, holding the blanket tightly around her, shivering. Her right foreleg was now bandaged as well. She raised her head when I approached, a fearful, yet hopeful, look in her eyes.
“Quite a dangerous life you lead,” I remarked as I sat down in the chair by the bed. “You’re lucky to still be alive.”
“Where am I?” she asked, her voice still raspy. “Who are… what hap—”
“Don’t speak yet. You lost quite a bit of blood, and you’ll most likely still be disorientated.” I noted the slight wobble in her stance and her sluggish movements. “We are in the Wyvern’s Den, outside which you were assaulted. It’s been a few hours since. You’re safe here. Can I get you anything?”
“I… Some water would be nice.”
I nodded, turning to see Rosetta already pouring two cups of water from a pitcher. We were soon seated with a cup each between our hooves. I noted how the mare almost immediately chugged the liquid down. I’m dealing with a novice here, she didn’t even wait for me to drink first.
“The finest glass of water on this side of Freeport,” I joked, sipping my cup like a fine wine connoisseur.
“I dunno…” Rosetta quipped, “I much prefer the vintage quality of the water we get at the old port on Lance Island.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course, she would pick her hometown. Where else?
“Lance Island?” the mare repeated. “Isn’t that place infested with changelings?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rosetta stiffening, her demeanour shifting completely. Not good.
“It is a Doo island and a fairly large one,” I answered neutrally. “It is not out of the question that there might be a few changelings here and there. And yes, I have heard rumours of their presence there, but rumours do tend to be exaggerated. I would personally not give them much credence.”
I had hoped she would drop the subject. Sadly, she had other ideas.
She snorted derisively. “No. The King told me it’s true, that place is crawling with those things.”
This elusive King again… The Free Minds tended to be secretive about their locations. Usually, they spread themselves out to avoid drawing attention. Occasionally and for the sake of convenience, the Free Minds might congregate somewhere, especially when there are new Free Minds who have been Awakened. Still, they usually notice themselves fairly quickly and then spread out again. Regardless, this is worrisome news. This King’s network spanned beyond Freeport Island and appeared fairly reliable.
“You got a problem with Free Minds?” Rosetta snarled, drawing me out of my thoughts. “This one does not appreciate the mare’s implication.” She glowered, baring fangs that weren’t there just a moment ago. So much for Rose getting through to her if I needed to leave early.
The auburn mare’s face paled, her eyes shrinking to pinpricks as she stared at Rosetta in horror. “You’re… you’re one of them!” She scrambled off the mattress, only to crash to the ground when the cloth rope tying her hindleg to the bedpost snagged. Her injuries probably didn’t help either.
Okay, time to defuse this, and fast. I turned to Rosetta, giving her an uncompromising look. “Keep watch outside, make sure we don’t get any incomings.”
She fixed me with a shocked look. “You’re sending me out? After what that little—”
“On the double,” I commanded. Please don’t complicate things, I really don’t need this.
For one tense moment, she just glared at me. I could only return her look and hope she’d not make a scene. Thankfully, she relented. With an angry huff, she stomped out onto the balcony and slammed the door behind her.
Meanwhile, from the ground, the earth pony's eyes shot about the room, looking for an exit. Her leg tugged at the rope, testing its strength. When she realized I stood between her and the only exit and that she won’t be able to pull herself free, she whimpered almost pathetically.
“What are you going to do to me?” she finally asked. “What do you want from me?”
Oy… This has gotten a bit more difficult. I had meant to spend some time making small talks, get a good read on her overall psyche, and find the best approach to extract the necessary intel.
Well, may as well do what I can.
“Relax.” I offered a hoof, but she flinched away, as though I had just struck her. “You’re safe here.”
Her mouth moved, and I barely caught her whisper, “Ch-changelings…”
With a sigh, I bent my head down to her. “I am no changeling. If you doubt my words, you may see the truth for yourself.” I remained still, waiting for her move.
With the reluctance of touching an open fire, she lifted her changeling detector near my face, and I felt a slight buzzing at the fringe of my mind as the enchanted gem scanned me. I resisted the urge to block the signal off; past experiences with mind-warlocks have left me a rather knee-jerk aversion towards that kind of magic.
When the bracelet returned negative, she let out a breath. I can’t say she relaxed, but she was clearly much less nervous now.
“Satisfied?” I asked, offering my hoof once more. This time she accepted.
“Y-yeah…” she stammered as I helped her back onto the mattress. She immediately wrapped herself in the bed’s blanket. Well, at least we’re slowly getting back on track. Now it was a matter of coming up with a plausible cover story and identity. If I let her leave, she’ll likely report back what had happened and it will be counterproductive if either she or the network knew who I really was.
I pulled up a chair and sat down, subtly adjusting its position to not put my back to the hallway door. “Let’s try that again, then. I am certain you are confused, scared, and have many questions. I shall endeavour to answer as many of your questions as I can.” I paused. “I suppose introductions are in order.” From my sitting position, I gave a small bow. “Ward, at your service.”
“Penny Trail,” she mumbled. I recalled her cutie mark. A purse that was leaking coins. How fitting.
“A nice name.” I nodded appreciatively. “From your accent, you’re not from any of the surrounding isles, are you?”
“No, I’ve never been off the mainland. I come from Silverstone.”
I tilted my head. “Is that so?” Silverstone was a middle-class district on Freeport Island, not too far from here actually. Small-time businesses and workers, typically. Most ponies there can carve a decent enough living out of Freeport, without necessarily resorting to more … illicit business. Many ponies there can live most of their life without seeing any action. All the more strange then that she would be living the life of a thief.
“What happened?” she asked as I mulled in silence.
“That’s what I’m wondering,” I mused distractedly before snapping back to the present. “Oh you meant tonight.” I waved dismissively. “Well for my part, I didn’t really do much, if I’m to be honest. I just saw him attacking you, so I pulled him off you. Naturally, he was no match for a freelancer.”
“A freelancer?” she repeated.
“As in a lone wolf. A mercenary who works independently rather than with a company.” I smiled proudly. “And one of the best around if I do say so myself.”
“So… you’re not condottieri?”
I shook my head. “Nah. But many have complimented my skills as an investigator.”
“You mean you’re a detective?” There was a nervous tension in her voice.
“Well … yes and no. Detectives are more…” I rolled my hoof. “Sanctioned investigators and typically work with or are part of the condottieri, whereas an investigator is more private business and hired more directly by a client.” That said, the two roles aren’t mutually exclusive, seeing as such sanctions are granted by the Council. But I digress. “Anyway, after flooring your assailant, I gave him over to the condottieri, the…” I reviewed my mental map of the area. Typically, the numerous mercenary companies are divided by districts. “The Bronze Blades, I believe.” I smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, they’ll take care of him properly. You’re safe now.”
Penny opened her mouth, then immediately clamped it shut. I waited patiently for her to dare speak again. “What’s going to happen to me? Am I also under arrest?”
I quirked a brow. “Now whyever would you be? You were the victim were you not?”
“Never stopped the condottieri before,” she mumbled.
“But I am not condottiere,” I gently reminded. “I don’t work by their rules. And in any case—no, you’re free to go after our talk. I just want to make sure you’ll be all right first.”
“I see.” She fidgeted, something clearly still on her mind. I admit I was curious whether she’d actually blunder hard enough to let slip she’s a thief to one claiming to be practically a law enforcer.
“Something else on your mind?” I asked.
She started. “Huh? N-no. Nothing, I…” She glanced around desperately, trying to find a way out of her situation. When her eyes fell upon the balcony door, I decided to throw a lifeline. She’s no good to me this agitated, after all.
“Ah…” I gave her an amused look. “You’re wondering why she's here when I claim to work alone.” She looked confused for a moment, before she caught the hint. She nodded in affirmation, already visibly relaxing. “Well let's just say she's a friend who occasionally helps me and leave it at that.”
She shuddered. Interesting reaction. Must've hit too close to home for her.
“Bad experience with changelings?” I guessed.
She was long to answer, and even then she could only manage a meek nod. Touchy subject. Probably best not to probe too deep for now. Though judging by how vivid her reaction to Rose was, the trauma relatively fresh in her mind. Five years tops. So early adolescence.
“I'm sorry for you then.”
With a snort, her eyes flicked up to me. “Why would you be? You’re friends with them.”
“Correction: I am friends with her.” I glanced at the balcony door. That reminds me. I’m going to have to find some way to make up for this to Rosetta. I made a mental note to provide a bonus to her pay on this assignment. “She’s a good person, if a bit rough around the edges.” Like some of her runestones, I chose not to say. “She’s candid and nice enough, otherwise.”
Penny snorted incredulously. I took her willingness to give me attitude as a good sign.
“I suppose it is hard to believe if you’ve never properly met her,” I admitted.
“No,” she snapped, “it’s a changeling. Changelings are nothing but monsters and liars who kill and ruin your life.”
Combine that statement with where she came from and it wasn’t hard to understand why she left Silverstone. Either she had a run-in with a changeling assassin or more cruelly, one replaced her or somepony close to her.
Tragically, her tale is not atypical. But I'd still need to look into this particular incident. Changeling or not, none look too kindly upon imposters and frauds. And the whole point of being a Free Mind is to have a name besides the one you steal.
I glanced out the window. The first hint of light was beginning to appear in the horizon. My time was running low. Well, I couldn’t rush this, but my clients will not be happy with any delays. Still, Clean Execution, I always say.
I set aside the time and refocus on my interview. It’s finally time to get somewhere with this.
“Insult to my trusted friend aside… I won’t pretend to know what you’ve been through, but if I may speak from experience, it is inadvisable to judge a race for the acts of a few.” I hardened my gaze. “You don’t have to love them. I don’t.”
“For someone who doesn’t love them, you sure seem to love defending them.” Downcast, her shoulders heaved with a weary sigh. “But then, there’s no point arguing with a thrall.”
I laughed. “And there’s a healthy dose of suspicion. I like that!” I shook my head, clearing the merriment away. “Although, defending them? Hardly. I can think of at least one changeling that I find distasteful, at best.” I quickly shelved that thought. “Nevertheless, you will miss many opportunities that way. And even if you don’t want the advantage of a shapeshifter on your side, do not fool yourself into thinking they are the monsters. Monsters take every form, whether they can change it or not. If you only focus on only one possible form, you will be blind to others.” I motioned towards the bandage on her head. “In fact, one such monster almost got you today.”
She looked down with an ironic laugh. “Yeah … I guess Tipped Scales did almost get me.”
I shook my head. “No, he is not the beast to which I referred.”
Her head snapped up, perplexion etched upon her face. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“I know that Tipped Scales was supposed to meet someone last night. I also know for a fact that you are not who he was supposed to meet. The rest becomes simple deduction.” Deduction being another word for presenting the facts in a way that will bias the audience in your favour, but she doesn’t need to know that. “That person decided to send you in their stead. Tipped would not have spoken to you otherwise.” I made a pointed glance at her tattered coat and unkempt mane.
She shifted uncomfortably. Her eyes betrayed the smallest hint of doubt, a nagging suspicion at the edge of her consciousness. Time to nurture the seeds then. “Where are you going with this?”
Playing to a slow crowd, huh? “Before we go on, do you know why Tipped Scales attacked you?” I questioned with a genuinely serious look, focusing on her expression, ready to catch any signals.
There. Small twitch in her expression and slight droop of the ears. I’m on the right track. “No,” she finally admitted.
“No, huh?” I gave her a pitying look. “I suppose if you had known, you wouldn’t have fallen into this situation in the first place.”
She frowned. “If I had known what?”
I sighed. “That you were used and thrown away.” Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened in shock. “That tonight, you had served as a sacrificial lamb for the one who sent you.”
Her shocked expression slowly turned to outrage and indignation. “You’re lying,” she growled. Her glare bore into me with a passionate intensity. Alright, the metal’s hot now, time to strike. As an acquaintance of mine would say, ‘Strike fast, strike true.’
“I assure you I am not,” I answered calmly.
“And I think that is complete horseapples. What makes you so sure I was sent to die?”
“Do you really know nothing of Tipped Scales?” I stared hard again, gauging her reaction. Small flick. Hesitation. Too much effort to stare back. She knows little to nothing. Now to see—
“Of course I know,” she bluffed, obviously I might add. Seems like she refuses to admit ignorance.
I gave her an incredulous look. “Then you know he has a habit of killing messengers who carried important messages. ‘Tying up loose ends,’ I think he calls it.”
The colour drained slightly from her face, more noticeable through the bald spots in her coat, but she otherwise didn’t say anything. It seemed that she bought my implication. In truth, I exaggerated a little. Messenger casualties tended to only occur in emergency situations like today’s.
“The one who sent you—this ‘King’ you mentioned earlier on—most likely knew this. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have changed his mind and sent you instead.”
“He did not send me to die!” she snapped, trembling with a mix of anger and… Ah, good to see she’s not completely naive; there was an underlying fear.
I put on a surprised face. At times like this, pressing forward is counter-productive. Time to let her speak. “My apologies. Maybe I was a little hasty in my judgement,” I allowed. “But might I ask what makes you so certain?”
She took her sweet time to answer, as she slowly deflated to a more docile demeanour. “He … he didn’t know. He couldn’t have known.”
I resisted a snort. A pathetic argument, if I’ve ever heard one. Still, that particular line of questioning is a dead end, so I decided to guide the conversation a bit. “Then do you know why he sent you instead?”
“Because he trusts me. Something came up yesterday, so he couldn’t make the meeting. He trusted me to come in his place—to represent him.”
“Do you know what came up?” I asked. Her muted silence told everything. “Then forgive me if for having my doubts. Let’s face it: why wouldn’t he tell you? He trusts you, does he not?”
“Of course he does! He just…”
I raised a hoof, silencing her. “Yet you seem to place a lot of faith in him, faith I do not wish to believe to be misplaced. You do trust him, don’t you?”
“Completely,” she answered without hesitation. I do have to wonder what could possibly inspire so absolute a loyalty.
“Then … maybe you can tell me about him? If I understand him better, maybe I’ll have a better idea of what happened.”
Moment of truth.
She was silent for a long while, whether to consider answering my question or to gather her thoughts, I cannot say. This allowed me to think a bit as well. While emotionally manipulating others left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth, it certainly was better than torturing or otherwise breaking her. The lesser of two evils, I like to call it. Nevertheless, save my name, I have not really lied once in our talk. Sure, I may have stretched the truth a bit, but therein lies the trick.
For instance, I did not doubt the truth of what I had suggested; there was no point in sending someone to speak with another doomed to die. Not unless it was to dispose of a subordinate.
Unless of course, it was to plant a false lead or otherwise stall me. Fortunately, false information fed to you is in itself useful information; their choice can tell you a lot about them.
Finally, Penny broke the silence. “He … he found me after I lost my home, after Mom…” she trailed off for a moment. “He saved me. The condottieri of Silverstone wouldn’t help me. They wouldn’t listen. Soon, I was starving and freezing in the streets, and they would just push me out of sight.” She shuddered, and I admit I too winced.
The condottieri are known to smack down very hard on beggars; can’t have them filling the streets and giving visitors a bad impression of Freeport, after all. Still, I have heard of some condottieri companies adopting these ponies into their ranks, such as the Conglomeration Company. However, some sees this as them seeking the destitute to serve as meatshields or cannon fodder. Nevertheless, it is the best thing that could happen to them. Gives them some experience as a mercenary and a starting point in building or rebuilding their life.
Freeport is not kind to the weak; even the best ‘charities’ are for all intents and purposes a front for slave trades. The sad reality is that most of them will die either way, so serving in the Conglomeration is an opportunity, a chance to prove one’s worth.
Sadly, while the company might have my approval, others tend to see them as incompetent. And the few times I ran into them on a job, I can’t inspire much confidence in their abilities either. At least, the Council recognizes the Conglomeration’s usefulness. Otherwise, that company would long have gone under. Heck, even their name began as a mere epithet, until their original name had been forgotten. It’s now, for all intents and purposes, a company directly sustained by the Council.
Most beggars or bums who wish to achieve anything will quickly realize that none will help them and will turn to mercenary work. Or in this case...
“And so he found you and taught you to be one of his thieves.” I concluded. At her questioning (and somewhat surprised) look, I shrugged. “You were a little too agitated earlier on when I said I was an investigator, meaning you’re part of the underground. There isn’t much else you could be. Not as you are.” From beggar to burglar, as the saying goes.
She sighed in resignation. “I suppose that’s it for me, huh?”
I gave a bemused look. “Explain.”
She motioned at me. “Well, you’re a detective—”
“Freelancer,” I automatically corrected.
“I know how this is going to go. You’re going to interrogate and torture me and ask me where our hideout is.” She spat and crossed her forelegs, glaring up at me. “Well, go ahead and try, but I will never betray him or my family. I am a loyal servant to the King of Thieves.”
Cult of personality, much? Seemed like she decided to drop the charade and admit she works for him. Well, I suppose that saved me some time dancing around the subject.
“It seems we’re still not on the same page,” I said wearily. Turns out it was too much to hope for this to have been quick and easy. No matter. “I care not if you are a thief or even a murderer. In fact, it’s actually helpful; things will be worse for Tipped Scales if it gets out that he’s been associating with criminals.” I offered a reassuring smile; news of his death could wait for another time. “You have my word that I will not make any efforts to arrest the King of Thieves.”
She stared at me suspiciously. “You’re trying to get my guard down, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. “Even if you told me everything about him, I wouldn’t arrest him. It is a rare person who would reach out and help the weak and decrepit.” I paused. “And I don’t mean that to offend. It’s more... most people wouldn’t have looked at you twice when you were out in the streets.”
A small smile crept on her face, her hoof unconsciously reaching for her bracelet. “He is a wonderful pony.”
Pony. That filtered out a fair portion of the Freeport population, I suppose. Still, given that ponies made the vast majority of the Freeport population…
“I’m guessing he gave you that?” I motioned at her bracelet. “Quite the trinket you have there.”
She glanced down. “Huh? Oh yes. He did.” She stared at it tenderly. “It is my most valued possession. When I told him I lost my parents to a changeling, he gave this to me so that I would never be fooled again.”
Should I tell her that detection charms are hardly foolproof?
“I owe my life to him,” she finished.
I frowned. This is sounding dangerously familiar. “And now you serve him to pay back this life debt?”
“I am not one of those charity slaves with a bottomless debt, if that’s what you’re implying.” She scoffed. “I do this because I want to. He’s like a father to me. He took care of me. What ungrateful whelp would I be if I left him after that?”
I gave her a grave look. “That does not mean he owns your life.”
“He does not force me to stay. But neither does he spoil me. He always has my best interests at heart.”
I was losing momentum. I needed to make sure the seeds of doubt would sprout. “And yet, he sent you to meet a dangerous pony without appropriate warning or caution?”
She froze, uncertainty returning to her eyes. “I… like I said, there must’ve been some mistake. I must not have understood him right.”
Well… if she’s going to go as far as blaming herself to defend his actions, a direct confrontation would not help. “Perhaps there was some mistake, yes…” I readily conceded. “But he shares part of the blame as well.”
She turned away, unable to meet my eyes any longer. A dull silence followed. Unfortunately, that meant I couldn’t tell whether her gloom was from self-reprimanding or from questioning her master’s intent.
Pondering my next course of action, I glanced out the window. Dear me, has that much time passed already? Already, I can see the first hint of sunlight in the horizon. My time was running out. I’d made about as much progress as could be hoped in creating a double agent, and I certainly didn’t expect to succeed in one interview. Still, now there was only enough time for one or two more things.
“It’s morning,” Penny said, also watching the horizon. Her eyes were unfocused though, most likely lost in reminiscence.
“That it is.” I glanced at her bracelet once more. “Mind if I have a look at that thing?”
She jerked out of her reverie. “Huh? Why?”
Graceful. “I’m curious about something. There was a weird sensation when you used it to scan me, and I want to see if it’s in good condition.” Technically true. While having your mind probed may constitute a weird sensation, that in itself is perfectly normal. I was more interested in the bracelet itself.
“How are you gonna do that? You’re not a unicorn.”
“I may not be able to fix it if I see anything wrong, but I know enough to recognize a problem.” Equipment maintenance, magical or mundane, is important in my field of work after all. “Still, you can’t fix it if you didn’t even know there was a problem.”
She stared at me, clearly unconvinced. “You’re not about to sabotage my bracelet, are you?”
I heaved another sigh. “And why would I do that? I don’t gain anything from it, and I’d like to think I’m above petty bullying.”
She glanced towards the balcony door. “You could be helping your changeling, or its friends.”
I offered a flat stare. “Right. This is all a ploy to break your little gemstone bracelet so that all my little changeling friends can then feed freely on you. Never mind that what’s most likely going to happen instead is you will be completely unable to trust anyone and shortly die alone.” I shrugged, casually dropping Scales’s thankfully unstained money bag in her lap. “Or you could buy yourself a new one.”
She scoffed indignantly. “You think you can buy my bracelet, just like that?”
“Once again, you misunderstand. That is insurance. In that you are pretty much assured a bracelet, so there’s no sense in me breaking this one. I would be wasting both our time.” I shrugged. “And besides, I was gonna offer it to you later anyway. Compensation for your injuries and troubles caused by Tipped Scales.” I motioned towards her bracelet again. “Now, may I?”
After a bit more hesitation, she reluctantly proffered her hoof. She jerked back a bit when I touched it, but she did not pull away. I immediately began to examine the bracelet.
As I had initially surmised, it wasn’t one of those expensive models. The bracelet itself was a plain iron clasp. The gemstone was the important part though. I suppose I should be thankful that pegasi have much better vision than the other two races; being creatures of the skies, we need to be able see well to fly safely. It’s also part of what makes pegasi better warriors than the other two races; strength and magic is irrelevant when you cannot react to danger quickly.
In this case, while I could not see with the details granted by a jeweler’s monocle, I could see enough to know that this wasn’t just one of the cheaply made (and typically unreliable) charms you could buy at any stall. The craft was … rough, actually. The edges weren’t cleanly cut and the angles weren’t precise, not to mention it was excessively large. From what I know of jewel enchantment, the spell itself is only half the work. Much like runestones (and presumably most imbuement), the physical structure also affects the performance. I’m not sure how, honestly—this is more Rosetta’s domain. Suffice to say, anyone who can enchant gems is likely also an excellent jeweler.
In this case though, the jeweler had gone for a pentagonal shape. Unusual. Most people would go for a diamond or hexagon; something to do with having a ‘balanced shape’.
All in all, I can conclude that this was either an experimental prototype or made on commission, and untimely stolen. No enchanter would sell a bracelet in this state, after all.
“How long have you had this?” I asked in a conversational tone.
“Um… it was a gift from Sl—” She cut herself off. Pity. “From the King of Thieves, when he found out what happened to me. So… Three years now?”
Judging by the wear and scratches the iron band has, that sounds about right. “Well, it’s certainly not a common model. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen another like it.”
She nodded eagerly. “Uh-huh. The King got me a one-of-a-kind.”
“One of a kind, huh?” I smiled genuinely. “That’s good. I’m glad to hear it.”
Her own smile grew triumphant. “You see? He could have gotten me any anti-changeling bracelet but not only did he get it for me the day after he found me, he got me a special one.”
“Well…” I coughed. “If I may be honest, it doesn’t look very reliable, what with the chipped gem and cheap iron.”
“Oh, I know it’s not the prettiest bracelet, but…” She frowned, gathering her thoughts. “Iron repels magic of every kind, meaning nopony can forcefully take it from me. And…” she turned her hoof over, and I had to force myself not to react. The iron had been fused closed around her wrist. I could see the area where the iron had branded her, burning away the fetlocks. “Nopony can take it off me.”
“Did the King of Thieves do this to you?” I asked darkly. If she’s still this devoted to him after he’s done this to her, then I—
“I asked him to,” she answered a little too casually for my taste. “He found it weird too at first, but…” She gave a sad sigh. “I am not the best pickpocket around, and I don’t want this stolen from me.”
“You would permanently attach this to you? Just to avoid a few changelings?” I questioned incredulously.
She glowered back. “A changeling destroyed my life. Never again will I be tricked by one.”
Well, it now seemed unlikely that she’s a false lead. She still has the capacity to doubt the guy, so she’s not completely fanatical about him, and none but the most desperate mercenaries would sacrifice a hoof just to mislead. Heck, I’m no longer at all surprised she’s a terrible pickpocket, or that she couldn’t even get a leeway from my target, magic notwithstanding.
“Plus … it reminds me of him. It makes me feel safe, like a part of him is always with me.” She scoffed at herself. “Sounds corny, I know.”
“No no, I understand,” I assured her. Of course, it won’t do her any good when the axe falls, or in this case, when being chased by an angry rich guy.
Penny fidgeted slightly as I continued my scrutiny, perhaps embarrassed by what she had just said. For my part, I continued to search her bracelet, listing the small clues on it. It was a veritable goldmine of potential leads, and I was slowly narrowing it down.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” she blurted, unable to bear the silence any longer.
“By all means,” I said with a shrug and without taking my eyes off her bracelet.
“So, if I’m not under arrest and I’m not being held for interrogation, does that mean I’m in witness protection?”
I chuckled. “Ah, one of the drawbacks of being a freelancer is that I cannot provide something as official as that. Not without becoming your personal bodyguard, and I unfortunately cannot do that without a proper contract.”
“Oh.” Disappointment was clear in her voice.
“That said,” I continued, “if you’re ever in need of aid, do not hesitate to come to me. I’ll do what I can.”
“R-right, I’ll be sure to do that.” She shifted awkwardly. “Are you gonna need my arm for much longer?”
“Hm?” I said absentmindedly. “Oh, my apologies. I may have gotten carried away. I find you can tell a lot about a person by the state of their limbs, be it hooved, clawed or manual. For instance, you have the hooves of a runner. And—”
Before I could draw more observations, the balcony door opened. “Hey, the sun is up, and…” Rosetta stopped fast at the door. Her eyes flicked rapidly from Penny, to me, to me holding her hoof, and back to me. “Sorry, was I interrupting something?”
Oh dear. If that passive aggressive tone was anything to judge by, she’s still mad at me for kicking her out. “Not at all,” I answered, standing up. “Perfect timing, actually. I’ve an errand for you.”
She frowned slightly. “If I must.”
“I need you to escort Miss Penny Trail back to—”
“I do not need an escort,” the earth pony protested. “Least of all from a changeling.”
I stared at her. “Are you certain? This is for your own safety after all.”
“And expose my back to a changeling? I’ll take my chances alone.”
Rosetta snorted derisively. “Perhaps we should let her walk alone? It would be this one’s pleasure to hear that someone else decided to silence her.”
I scowled disapprovingly at her. That was a stupid thing to say no matter how you look at it.
“Silence me?” Penny repeated. “I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you, changeling?” Despite her bravado, she was very quick to shuffle towards me when Rose snarled at her.
I raised a hoof, silencing them both and nipping the argument in the bud. “Would it make you feel better if I personally escorted you instead?”
Penny glanced at me, giving an evaluative look. “Thanks, but no.” She smiled apologetically. “I appreciate you saving me. It’s just… I can take care of myself now.”
Well, was worth a try. “Very well, then. If you think you’ll manage just fine on your own. My friend will take care of the check out whenever you’re ready to leave.”
“Huh? You’re leaving me already?” she asked, glancing nervously at Rosetta.
“She ain’t about to bite, kid,” I reassured her. “I’ve another appointment that I need to get to. Then I’ll also have to check on Tipped Scales to make sure the condottieri took care of him properly. Rest assured, he will never bother you again.”
“R-right…”
“Well then, good day to you.” I walked up to the balcony door.
“Wait!” she called out, scrambling after me, only to trip as the rope tying her hind hoof snapped taut again.
Rose had already stepped between us with a snarl by the time I turned with an exasperated look. “Pull the knot, that’ll release you.”
“That’s not it!” She stood up, favouring her left leg. “Well, that too, but how will I find you again?”
I’ll admit, that question caught me off guard. “Find me again? Well…”
“And what could you possibly want with that information?” Rosetta questioned. “Bring your fellow little friends and maybe try to rob us? Show your ugly mug where it is not wanted?”
“At least I have one. Who’d you have to kill for yours?”
“Enough!” I had to physically stop Rose jumping on her. “Rose, I do not expect you to like her in the least, but I still expect a certain amount of professionalism and self-control from you. If I cannot trust you to keep calm under pressure—to not be provoked—then there’s little I can trust you with.” She flinched back, her ears drooping as I turned to face a smug-looking earth pony. The expression was quick to fade when she saw mine.
“Penny Trail, you will be courteous to her from this point on, because if you wish to find me, it will be through her and only her. If you cannot get past your vendetta, then this will be the last time you see me willingly. I will not help those who do nothing to help themselves first. I will especially not help those who pick fight they cannot win. Should you try to provoke her again, I will not stop her reacting as any normal person would. Do I make myself clear?”
“But—”
“Do I make myself clear?” I repeated, taking a forceful step in her direction. She shrunk back fearfully, her rear pressing up against the bedpost as she gave a meek little nod. “Good. In that case, know that you are no longer under my protection. Rose will take care of checking out and will not be following you home,” I gave Rosetta an emphatic glance, “but otherwise, whatever happens here will be entirely on the both of you.”
Penny’s face turned horrified. “You’re leaving me alone? With it?”
I shrugged nonchalantly. “Yes, so I suggest you start apologizing to her. Right now, she is very upset for your prejudice.”
Her eyes were pleading, as though I had just announced she was to be executed here. “But—”
I immediately cut her off. “Talk to Rose, not me. I’m already late enough as it is.” I coldly turned away. “Rose, I will meet you back at your place after my meeting.”
She stared at me with surprise. “You have another job for me?”
“Who knows?” I shrugged. “Don’t disappoint me.”
I stepped out and shut the balcony door behind me. I waited.
…
Good, no sound of screaming or breaking glass. They’re not trying to kill each other.
This night had been tiresome, without a doubt. While my ‘gentle’ interrogation had not yielded anything solid, I do have a good lead as to where to look next. I will also have to remember to give Rose a bonus for her distraction; I would not have been able to plant a trail on the contact otherwise.
With no other business keeping me here, I took to the skies of Freeport.
“You’re late.”
I had arrived at the Obsidian Palace. The condottieri guards had let me pass without incident. Unfortunately, I was greeted by a rather unpleasant sight.
“Puzzle Piece,” I acknowledged.
The changeling had adopted the form of an earth pony this time. Can’t say it really suited him, but then again, no equine race really does. I suppose I could say he’s being courteous enough in his frequently changing forms to maintain the same cutie marks. Makes him recognizable, which then defeats the purpose of changing forms.
Yeah, I don’t get it either.
“Quite unlike you, Thorn,” he remarked. “I thought you prided yourself in precision.”
Also, when I had insisted that I am not friends with changelings as a whole (but with Rosetta specifically), Puzzle ranks fairly high in my reasons. He’s a fellow professional… ‘problem solver’ as he likes to call it, though he specializes more in intelligence and espionage while I specialize more in actually getting stuff done. That is not to say we’re both incompetent at the other’s jobs, but we both recognize the value of letting the expert do their work. To be abundantly clear, our relationship is purely professional. I only use him for his contacts. Goodness knows his performance everywhere else is distasteful.
“Yes, I was held up.” I answered simply, walking past him. No point in telling him more than he needs to know.
“Chasing a new lead?” he guessed, walking up alongside me.
“Naturally.” I suppressed my annoyance. Why was he here? The Council should have already briefed him on whatever new assignment they had for him. I shouldn’t have to deal with him, not this early in the morning.
“And this one supposes the Thorn-stallion discovered something more substantial than vague generalities?” he pressed, shifting back to his traditional speech pattern now that we were well out of public view.
“Something like that.”
“Then this one certainly hopes your new information will be satisfactory. The Council is most displeased with your delay.”
I smiled. “My delay? They simply realized I had denied them the privilege to keep me waiting. I did not tarry any later than our usual meeting time.”
“True enough,” Puzzle conceded. “Then will the Thorn-stallion finally be using the door?”
“Not a chance,” I answered.
Puzzle sighed. “Then does the Thorn-stallion realize dodging security and finding yet another way in would delay him further than if he simply walked in with this one?”
I confess, I nearly stumbled. The Council usually only ever grants audience to a single person at a time. Puzzle accompanying me can only mean my next job involves working with him somehow. The day just gets longer and longer, doesn’t it?
“Does the Thorn-stallion need help walking?” Puzzle needled.
“Maybe,” I said. “If I faked an injury, what are the odds the Council would buy it?”
“Not a chance,” Puzzle said with a grin, echoing my own words.
I sighed as we came to a stop before the Council Chamber’s front door. “So, are we signing the same contract, or did they simply ask you to supervise our contract negotiations?” As much as I like to keep that between my clients and I, I’m not so naive as to believe the changeling is ignorant to what occurs behind closed doors. He was an expert spymaster with a very extensive informant and information network, not to mention a knack for … well, espionage. Especially given his changeling nature.
“The Thorn-stallion worries too much. The contents of your contracts are strictly confidential,” he reassured, which basically translates to an admission of guilt. “However, the Council has requested both our presence for this particular assignment. This one only hopes the Thorn-stallion will be willing to play his part rather than let this one do all the work.”
“Play my part?” I echoed. “So long as my part is reasonable, I will play my part on the condition you play yours.”
“That seems only fair,” he said readily. “A partnership can hardly function if both parties aren’t willing to cooperate.” I suppose that’s one way to describe our relationship. Simply put, he doesn’t like to get his chitinous hooves dirty and I sometimes need more information, so he would come to me whenever he needs someone dealt with, whether for himself or another client, and he will assist me with his network whenever I need it.
Still, normally, the Council does not bother hiring us both. They’d either hire one or the other, usually with a focus on our specialization. Cheaper, yet still effective. Whatever this assignment is, it’s got them spooked.
I sighed. Pondering what the assignment is about is a waste of time when I can simply go in and ask. “Let’s get this over with.” I proceeded towards the Council door.
“This one thought you said there was ‘not a chance’ you’d use the door,” he observed.
“I changed my mind. It makes a nice change of pace, and it keeps the Council guessing.” And there’s the added bonus of being in there ahead of Puzzle. Also a nice change of pace.
“It is a dangerous game you play,” Puzzle warned with a humoured shake of the head.
“I’m a professional,” I said with a confident grin. “My whole life revolves around playing with fire. This is nothing new.”
“Well, the Thorn-stallion might find he will be playing with fire a lot more than usual,” Puzzle mused.
More than usual? Just how high risk is this next assignment the Council plans on giving me? Of course, if it’s so high risk, I suppose it makes sense that they would assign Puzzle to work with me. The two of us are the best agents in Freeport, after all. Still, they better be paying me extra for this.
Without delaying any further, I pushed the doors open and marched in. Sure enough, I caught a few of them staring about the room, trying to see from where I’d come in from. To their credit, they immediately snapped their attention towards me, and had I not been carefully watching them, I would have missed it. I am sure, however, that if any of them meets outside the Council, coins would be exchanged.
I walked in towards the center of the large chamber. Their masked gazes followed me like vultures, their hooded heads turning in almost perfect unison. A simple attempt at intimidation, but one anyone who has been around would be used to.
I glanced about the chamber and the murals that adorned the walls. A representation of the history of Freeport, starting from the Consolidation to more recent events. Naturally, the images on the walls are incomplete. The foundation of the Council, for instance, was missing the detail that part of the deal the old Council had agreed to involved granting a few seats of leadership to the then-leaders of the old Pegasopolis Clans. Or the Merger of many of the smaller clans into one single body, such as the Trailers, Striders, and even a portion of the Remnant Kickers. Of course, even their combined mights were eventually swallowed by the giants that were the Strikers and Doos in the annals of history. Nowadays, anyone with those names are most likely mercenaries or small-time traders.
Upon reaching the center, I bowed slightly. A small professional courtesy, and nothing as extravagant as throwing oneself to the ground as the Equestrians seem fond of doing for their Princess. Or was it Princesses now? I had heard of the appearance of a second alicorn princess, but so far none of those came from reliable sources.
Ok, focus. I am dealing with the Council now, and one would do well to be on their guard, lest the Council manage to cut one a bad deal.
“The Sulidae, reporting in,” I announced. “The businesspony known as Tipped Scales has been successfully assassinated. I expect the payment as previously agreed.”
“You are late,” one of them observed, his voice distorted by his mask.
“Forgive me, but I had been interrogating a new lead against our recent troubles with the Syndicate.” I shrugged apologetically. “Perhaps you would prefer I have allowed this lead to escape? Certainly, I would arrive more punctually, but then how much time in the long run would be lost tracking it down again?” I glanced at each of them in turn. “However, if the Council wishes to pay more to keep me waiting idly by, they would certainly hear no complaints.”
There was a bit of a grumble among the Councillors, but they otherwise voiced no further objections to my delay.
“This new lead you found,” the front Councillor questioned. “How reliable a lead is it?”
I tipped my head slightly as I stared back at him. “Reliable enough. However, we are not here to discuss my new lead, not yet anyway. If you wish to discuss it, I will require another contract. One on a pony known as the King of Thieves.” I glanced back at Puzzle Piece. “Perhaps our favourite problem-solver may run a preliminary investigation on this potential target for you?”
Puzzle Piece smiled. A smile I did not like. “It would appear you are behind. I know of him and would state that he fits your conditions.”
Well, so much for making Puzzle do some hoofwork, but figures he’d already have information on him. I turned back forward. “Then we may negotiate the terms of that contract at your earliest convenience. But in the meantime, I hear you have another job for me?”
“We do,” the Councillor said. “We have heard news of an Equestrian mare who will soon be arriving in Freeport.”
I stopped my eyebrow from arching. I would often get requests for a hit on any foreigners who might arrive in Freeport, with reasons ranging from depriving a rival company of a trade partner to simple prejudice. Strange that the Council would decide to partake in such minor and petty issues. “Are you asking me to conduct an investigation and report back?”
“Do not misunderstand, Sulidae,” one of the Councillors on the right said. “We do not request your services on her. Not in the traditional sense. Our reports indicate she is an especially gifted unicorn spellcaster, and a potentially great asset for Freeport. However, she is also accompanied by an agent of the EIS. We would like you to assist Puzzle Piece in relinquishing her from the EIS.”
Ok… sounds simple enough. An agent from the EIS is not something I can’t handle in the worst case scenario. Nevertheless… “So you are requesting my services in ensuring her acquisition. Is that all?”
“That is all,” the Councillor confirmed. “Although, obviously, you should not discourage her from willingly working with us.”
“That goes without saying.” I turned to Puzzle Piece again. “I assume my partner will brief me with the relevant information?”
He nodded. “That is correct.”
“Then I will hear your offer. Who are we looking for?”
He smiled. “The mare we seek is Celestia’s former student, Sunset Shimmer.”
Author's Note
Special thanks to Chengar Qordath, Comma-Kazie, and Ponibius for letting me contribute to the world of Freeport and for their help editing.
I would also like to thank Web of Hope, 621Chopsuey, Gavel Coaster, Quixotic Wordsmith, and Reginart Renart for their work proofreading this chapter.
