The Master Alchemist

Part 6

"Your friend seems to be taking a while on her way back," Voraloxle said from his relaxed position, with his feet kicked up against the bedframe.

"My protege is capable, friend," Zecora responded, "I do not expect that she has met her end." Zecora paced around the room on her hooves despite her statement. Of course Applebloom could fend for herself. No longer was she a puny whelp, as she had been when Zecora had first met her. Well, puny, but ferocious enough. No, not ferocious... tenacious. Determined. An apt learner and a better warrior.

Yet still, an inkling of doubt seeded itself in the back of Zecora's mind.

After a few tense minutes of waiting, Voraloxle spoke. "No matter how good she is," he said, "a blade can take her all the same."

Zecora didn't fear that Applebloom had died. No, certainly not that. She was probably just... using the restroom.

Voraloxle's tongue made a popping sound, and he sucked in a breath. He paused for a moment, and then said, "Let's go find her."

Zecora silently agreed, shouldering her gear.

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Applebloom had a feeling she couldn't talk her way out of this, but she tried anyways. "I swear, I didn't kill him. It was that feller over yonder! He shot some sorta dart with deathbell extract on the end. I didn't have the antidote with me and I didn't have any ingredients or time to brew it. Please, you hafta believe me!"

The zebra with the revolver pulled out four hoofcuffs. "You'll have a trial, but we're keeping you in custody until then,"

Knowing zebra politics, a trial could take weeks or months. Applebloom knew that she didn't have that kind of time.

"Sorry, but I'm innocent," Applebloom flipped around, kicking the firearm away. "Unless you prove me guilty."

With that, she dashed off, flying through the halls, hoping to lose her pursuers through the sprawling government building. She knew she couldn't go out the front door; but where was the back?

"AFTER HER!" the zebra yelled to his slow-to-rouse troops, who stumbled after the speeding pony. A few bullets dinged against the metal walls and cut into the hardwood floor, but the zebra had to stop to shoot. A flying leap took Applebloom up to the first landing of a staircase, then uo to the third level. The building looked like a cross-section of history; the first layer was the first era of zebra society, the second corresponded, an so on. Up here, walls of windows overlooking the city were interspersed with columns of steel, which Applebloom weaved through, sending a few of her assailants smashing into metal. One even pirouetted through the window, falling three stories to smack into the cobblestones below.

Applebloom shouldered through a final door, but scrambled to a stop as she saw the dizzying fall to the pavement. The wind whistled along the roof, howling past the pony, who had trouble catching her breath. By the time she had looked around and found no way down, the zebras had caught up to her.

"By order of my superiors, you are under arrest for the murder of a Guardian of the Council, a Council member, and for resisting trial." The handgun wielding zebra and his men formed a rough, staggered half circle around Applebloom, pointing spears, firearms and various other devices of killing that the yellow pony had no names for. The menacing tip of a trident jabbed far too close to her cheek.

One zebra stepped up with hoofcuffs, prepared to detain Applebloom, who did not want to kill these folk for simply following orders.

For a hesitant moment, she wondered--do I have to?

With less than seconds to spare before she was locked up, simealtaneous leap forward and backflip, two commands from her hesitating mind, ended up throwing her into a flailing, messy spin the caught even her off guard. The officer was slapped in the face by a swinging hoof, and the force of his weight drove Applebloom backwards.

And straight over the edge of the building.

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By this time, Zecora and Voraloxle had split up. The former had gone flying up the stairs, while the latter barreled throught the door to look for their third musketeer in the surrounding city of Zebraska.

Voraloxle's trained eyes scanned every face, every hoof, every dangling piece of hair. They missed nothing. Yet, though Voraloxle had sped around the city in a five mile radius from the towering government building, from shady backstreets to rich neighborhoods he saw no sign of Applebloom, with whom he had had barely any time to develop any sort of connection. And now she could be anywhere--lost, killed, mugged and left to bleed out in some dumpster.

Circling the building again, the velvet black-putple unicorn tipped his feathered hat up to look again. To spot a red bow, a brown cloak, orange eyes.

Still, nothing.

He sat on his haunches against the wall of the structure, facing the various market stalls and desert streets, sands blowing with the whipping wind. As he thought, he thought he heard voices; not the incoherent jumble from the crowded square, with vendors yelling prices every which way. No, this was from... above? Voraloxle looked up just in time to see something falling. He conjured a protective, gelatanous energy field to save himself. In that split second, he had also completely negated Applebloom's downard momentum.

As he released the shield, thinking the danger had passed, the pony dropped atop him, landing them in a heap.

"Keep the shield up!"

Voraloxle responded almost instantaneously, and the glittering blue dome made a strange sound like that of an object falling into a pool while the listener is underwater. For the second time in less than ten seconds, Voraloxle had saved himself and Applebloom. This time not from a fall, but from speeding bullets.

"Run!" Voraloxle yelled, his vocie muffled like the impact of the metal cones.

In a surreal, adrenaline-fueled, slow-motion leap, the two ponies galloped between stalls, knocking over pedestrians, clearing crates, and generally causing havoc.

With chaos everywhere, any city guards that had heard the call of their brothers could not wade through the sea of writhing bodies to ensare their targets.

However, a split second reaction from a concerned citizen sent Applebloom flying on a crate proppeled via crane through the air, until her hoof caught the ledge of the dock down into the waters of the coast city. Voraloxle found her, and had but a split second to make a decision; leave her and live, or take her and die?

She could be useful! His mind said, and he pulled her up from the dock, continuing their flight from the pursuing city and the all-too-quickly growing lynch mob. But a lynch mob had nothing against a proper "exotic item trader" and his "associates". Voraloxle had plenty of connections in the city. After all, the best place to fight someone is right under their nose.

Diving into another marketplace, Voraloxle managed to get the pair of the street and into the shelter of a nearby alleyway. There, Applebloom and the black-velcet unicorn waited for hours as the investigators cleared the surrounding area. Except for the expertly chosen thin path between buildings.

The afternoon turned to night, Luna's moon replacing Celestia's sun. The markets quieted, and the torches of guards and "well-equipped citizens" still shifted the shadows. Hoofsteps occasionally passed the area, clopping against the cobblestone with precision and uniformity, usually in ones or twos. Whenever the slow tap, tap, tap drifted by, both Applebloom and Voraloxle tensed.

At roughly one in the morning, the steps made a scraping sound, and clopped inwards.

Straight at the hiding ponies.

Voraloxle knew his revolvers would make far too much noise. He drew a knife from his belt. Applebloom took two.

As the shadow crescendoed and the first hoof slipped into view, an unfortunate zebra lost his life. An unfortunate Applebloom seemed, to Voraloxle, almost sick.

Once they had neutralized the threat, Applebloom risked speech. "Where should we go?"

"I know a guy."