Trixie stared at the mirror, looking idly at her reflection. Over the past few years her reputation had been soiled twice. The first time was when she was a simple traveling magician dispensing cheap acts of flare and calling it magic. That had come to a terrible end when in an act of valor, she may have accidently nearly wiped a town off the map. That had gotten her into a bit of trouble. Of course it only multiplied when she acquired a powerful artifact that enhanced her magic allowing her to enslave said town. She had been dethroned within a few days, and was nearly hauled off to jail. However, the noble of the area a student of the all powerful gods who inhabited the land had let her off, probably out of pity.

Trixie had been ruined after that, turned away from most towns and forced into a period of squalor. She left the kingdom and began to tour the lands outside of Celestia’s direct reign. There she was welcomed with a warmer embrace and discovered a new passion she had. She had become an escape artist. She would purposely put herself in deathly situation allowing the audience to watch as she would escape. Her reputation and prestige began to mount until finally a company inside of Equestria sent her a letter saying they would sponsor a tour of western Equestria if she were interested. Missing home, she quickly agreed.

This town was the third stop on her tour, a quant little place with only a couple thousand residents. The largest venue could only accommodate five hundred ponies and it was sold out in a flash. Rumors had it that people from all over the kingdom were coming to these two-bit towns eager to see her. She of course felt no pride in this, as she already knew that such crowds would form around her as word got out, of her excellence.

A knock came from Trixie’s door and she adjusted her robe with a hand. “Come in.” She said never once looking away from the mirror.
The door to her trailer opened and a unicorn stallion walked in. He was a bookish fellow, with glasses on the tip of his green snout. He was tall and thin, but all around he was a decent looking guy. His mane was wild streaks of brown which erupted in every direction in uncontrollable curls. He was her head assistant, Special Effects.

He looked at Trixie and smiled nervously. “I just wanted you to know that we are going on stage in ten.”

Trixie nodded and shot him a look via the reflection. There was something in her eyes, fear, stage fright, it was hard to tell.
Special Effects placed a hand on her shoulder and when she didn’t pull away he began to talk. “Nervous?”

Trixie smirked. “This is what Trixie was born for. I am just thinking about how we haven’t performed this stunt yet.”

Special Effects offered her a warm smile. “We’ve done all the components at least a hundred times, you just got to piece them together and you know, do your thing.”

Trixie looked up at him. “My thing?”

Special Effects nodded. “Be the greatest show mare that these farmers have ever seen.”

Trixie smiled at that and then stood up. “Alright, lets show them why Trixie is great and powerful.”

She walked out of the trailer, which was parked behind the main stage. There was an access door allowing them entrance a few steps away. As she walked up to it, a security guard looked at her and nodded. He grabbed the door knob and opened it, gesturing for Trixie to enter. She did so walking up the short flight of stairs until she was backstage.

Backstage a few technical ponies wandered around, preparing lighting equipment and speakers. Her secondary assistant was nervously looking at herself in the mirror. It was always a different pony in every town, a local who wanted to get some role in entertainment. This one was a fire red Earthpony with an orange mane. She wore a leotard which matched the colours of Trixie’s mane and fur, it also had Trixie’s cutie mark affixed to the front covering the area below her abundant Earthpony breasts and above her waist.

Trixie approached her, offering a half hearted smile that reeked of superiority. “Nervous?”

The Earthpony turned around and offered her own nervous smile, the edge of her lip twitch ever so subtly. “Terrified.”

Trixie nodded and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It is…natural for some people to have stage fright. My advice, remember that most eyes will be on me.”

She could feel Special Effects smirk at her ego, though when she turned around he was hiding it behind a chart. Trixie ignored that and walked over to the curtains. She pressed her head through a narrow crack and scanned the audience. They sat upon bleachers, and it was standing room only, she knew that there were more than five hundred in there. When she pulled back she was smiling from ear to ear.

While she was back stage, she mostly paced back and forth thinking about the stunt ahead. Time was unfriendly to her and the minutes before a show dragged on into years, but finally it ended. She watched as Special Effects took the stage. He wore a cheap black suit, and a cape and hat that looked very similar to those that she would have worn if the stunt allowed for it.

Special Effects walked over to the mic which sat on the centre of the stage, with each step an additional spotlight would focus on him until he was lit up like a star upon a tree during the holidays. He cleared his throat and then addressed the ponies with a wide wave of his hand. “Mares and Stallions, thank you for coming out today to see what might possibly be the greatest work in the field of escaping this decade.” He smiled and the audience fell into a silence.

Special Effects went on. “For today, our most illustrious and mysterious escape artists will be escaping from a watery grave.” The crowd let out a low “oohhhh” on que. With that a white drape which surrounded an object on centre stage fell away. Behind it was a large glass cylinder. It stood about nine feet tall, and had a diameter of three feet. It was filled to the brim with crystal clear water.

Special Effects looked at the audience with a big smile. “Now how about we all give a round of applause for our main attraction. The Great. The Powerful. TRIXIE!” With that she pressed the drape aside and walked onto stage. With each step a spotlight was robbed from Special Effects and focused on her, until finally she was the brightest star on stage. She smiled at the audience and gave them a wave as their cheers and claps filled the space.

She watched as her assistant picked up the mic from its stand and walked over to her. He talked as he made his way over. “Would you like to explain tonight’s escape?”

Trixie grabbed the mic from him and addressed the crowd with her entertainer’s voice. “Tonight Trixie will be escaping from this tank of water. Stopping Trixie from achieving this task will be a pair of reinforced hand cuffs; four ankle cuffs attached to weights; a blindfold; and a magic inhibitor.”

Special Effects posed the pre-planned question. “But Trixie without magic how can you possibly hope to escape the locks?”

She responded by pulling a hairpin out of her mane, holding it up for the audience. “Trixie will be using nothing but this hairpin to lock pick her way out of this trivial trap.” Due to its small size a camera focused on it enhancing the image onto screens behind her, garnering another reaction from the crowd.

Special Effects reach out touching the fluff of her robe. “And do you plan to do all of this while wearing a robe?”

She handed the mic back to him with a half hearted chuckle. “What and get accused of smuggling something within one of its sleeves? Never.”

With that she shed the robe to the cat calls of the male half of her audience. Underneath her robe Trixie was wearing a two-piece bikini. It was a shade of blue a bit darker than her fur colour, with lighter coloured straps. The top which did a good job of constraining her bust had her cutie mark printed on the left breast to copy the one printed on her bikini bottom.

A cry came out from the audience. “She could be hiding something under that top.” This was followed by quite a few laughs.

Trixie simply snorted. “Assistant do you see any strange lumps under my swimsuit?”

Special Effect gave a shit eating grin. “I believe those are called breasts Trixie.” This of course got another round of laughter from the audience.

She shook it off and gestured to the audience. “Trixie thinks that we have left these fine folks waiting long enough.”

Special Effects nodded. “First we will apply her magic inhibitor.” He reached into the breast pocket of his suit and produced a metallic cone with various gem stones affixed to it. Around the base was a band which was currently split open. Each side of the band had a little loop, which when closed would facilitate a lock. The cameras of course had to focus to catch these details. “To prove that it works I will perform a brief demonstration.”

His horn glowed and the mic levitated. A very visible aura of magic linked him to it and as soon as the cone came in contact with his horn it was abruptly severed causing the mic to fall into his extended hand. He pulled the inhibitor away from his horn and offered it to Trixie who grabbed it and slipped it around her own horn.

Now Special Effects pulled another object out of his pocket, a small pad lock with three numbers. “This is a padlock, when Trixie is underwater she will be unable to pick it meaning that she can not escape via her incredible magic. Now you are probably asking, doesn’t she know the combination?”

This got some signs of agreement from the audience. Trixie now took the mic. “Look under your seats, each of you will have a box, inside the box is a lock identical to this one. Identical in everyway but the combination. Even if I knew all those combinations, which I don’t, I’d never be able to know which lock was selected.”

Special Effects’ horn glowed forming a barrier between him and Trixie, and the audience. Trixie went on. “Now bombard the stage with locks.” All at once a dozen black locks came flying towards the stage in a saturated bombardment for a solid minute. Some fell short, some fell in the audience, yet others fell on the stage. Still some, from very athletic ponies hit the barrier bouncing off. Finally, with the audience seemingly done with their interaction Special Effects lowered his barrier.

Trixie sauntered forward and walked towards a grouping of locks. Once there she bent over, causing some additional cat calling, and grabbed one of the locks. The band around the base of the inhibitor was then closed and the lock slipped through the loops. It was snapped shut and Trixie’s thumb swept over the numbers scrambling them. She gave the lock a tug to show it was in fact locked.

Special Effect walked over to her new position. “Alright so we can confirm that Trixie is without magic, relying completely upon her natural abilities to lock pick. Next her arms will be bound.”

This was the secondary assistant’s cue and she rushed out onto stage holding something within her grip. It looked like a medieval stockade but smaller. It was a rectangular section of oak wood with two small padded circles for her wrists to slip into place. Between those two holes was a lock with the key sticking out of it.

The assistant made her way over to Trixie a nervous smile plastered onto her face. Trixie gave her a nod and then held her hands out in front of her. The assistant turned the key and unlocked the lock, pulling it free. With the lock out of place a mechanism turned and the holes for her wrists expanded just enough for Trixie to slip her hands through. Trixie did so, at which point the assistant snapped the mechanism closed, binding Trixie’s wrists. The lock was then affixed to the mechanism keeping it jammed shut.

The assistant then handed the key to Special Effects. Normally the secondary assistant would have a larger role, but in this show her part was done. She scurried off stage with a polite clap following after her. Special Effects held up the key to the audience. “Trixie is this the only key to that specific lock?”

Trixie nodded while she replied. “Yes that is the only key for this lock.” The locks they used in question had four pin and were of moderate difficulty for lock picking.

Special Effects nodded, at which point he wound back and tossed the key into the audience. “Then it looks like the easy way out just became someone’s souvenir.”

The audience laughed at this as Special Effects placed a hand on Trixie’s back leading her towards the tank. As they made their way over to a set of stairs on the side he posed her a question. “So Trixie how long would you say you can hold your breath.”

Trixie leaned towards the mic. “Trixie can hold her breath for three minutes.”

Special Effects pointed towards the screen, where at the top left corner of each projection a timer was set up. “Three minutes and five locks, do you fine folks think she can do it?” A cheer echoed forth from the audience clearly having faith in the showpony, this made her smile.

As they ascended the ladder, they passed a lever which was at the very top stair. Across the top of the tank was a small metallic runway which was about two feet wide. In the middle of it were two metallic cylinders that looked vaguely like small stilts. On both the left and ride side of each cylinder was a chain which extended for about three feet before ending in a cuff. Currently all four cuffs were opened with four locks neatly presented next to them.

Special Effects passed the mic to Trixie who clumsily held it in her bound hands. He then got on his knees beside her and began to affix the first cuff below her left knee. Once it was closed he opened a lock and locked the cuff in place. She explained to the audience what was going on. “Each of these cylinders is made of solid iron. They weight about a hundred pounds each. When Trixie’s assistant pulls that lever.” She gestured towards the one at the top of the stairs. “These will pull Trixie under the water like a stone.”

Special Effects affixed the other chain of the same cylinder above her left knee locking it in place. Her right leg received the same treatment, two cuffs, one below the knee, and the other above. With the job done he tossed each key to the audience guaranteeing that it would not make its way to Trixie in her time of need. He then grabbed the mic back from her.

Special Effects looked at the audience giving them a grand wave. “Now for the finishing touches.” For the first of these he pulled out a sleeping mask which he pulled over Trixie’s eyes snapping the elastic to the back of her head. Second he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hairpin. He waved it in front of the audience before slipping it into Trixie’s mane.

He held the mic in front of Trixie’s mouth before saying “Ready?”

She nodded and replied with “Trixie is ready.”

Special Effect walked off of the runway and stepped onto the stairs. He sat upon the top one and snapped his fingers. As if by magic, and not a team of Earthponies pushing it from under the stage, the stairs moved, rolling away from the tank, leaving all attention on it. When they were near the curtains Special Effect wrapped his hand around the lever. “Are you ready?”

Trixie took one final large inhale, her chest expanding and cheeks puffing outwards before giving a curt nod. With that Special Effects pulled the lever and the runway split down the middle. In an instant she was below the water, the weights doing their part to drag her down towards a watery grave. The water was frigid, the cold seeping into her frame and chilling her. It took only a few moments before the weights clunked against the bottom of the tank. She floated freely for a moment, frozen in the water. From the outside, the view was fantastic, she was like a statue, unmoving, only her mane which was suspended by the water swam around her head in every direction.

She was in her head, telling herself to remain calm, she had done this a hundred times, and no matter the situation a lock was still a lock. Finally, her arms moved in unison. They arched towards her head, nearly ramming the wooden restraints against her temple. They fortunately stopped shy of braining her as her left hand extended outwards. She gripped at a lock of hair, trying to secure it. Hanging from it was the hairpin. With her hands restrained it took a couple of tries but finally after a few seconds the pin was safely in her hand.

Her hands felt numb, the cold of water having seeped into her joints. It was going to be a problem, but Trixie was to far in to back out and re-plan her approach. She tilted her wrist, until her index finger was pointing down towards the lock between her hands. The tip of the hairpin scrapped against the metallic surface of the padlock before sinking it into the keyhole. Trixie’s brow furrowed as she moved the hairpin within the lock occasionally expanding the hairpin to test the four little metallic pins inside of the mechanism.

The seconds ticked by, each one drawing closer and closer to that three-minute mark. One of the pins inside the mechanism clicked, Trixie tried the one next to it, which of course failed to work loosening both pins. She pressed the first pin back into place then tried another that one also sinking into place. Her hand shook, her leverage and grip doing rather poorly in the cuffs. She tried another pin, this one also clicked into place, and finally with the final pin Trixie gave the hair pin a twist and the lock popped open. Trixie grabbed it with her right hand, twisting it to the side and then pulling it out of the mechanism. The restraints loosed and she pulled her hands free sending the block of wood to the bottom of the tank.

The clock on the screen now read two minutes and twenty seconds and the crowd was on the edge of their seats. Trixie was also beginning to notice the time. While she may not see the visual numbers, she could feel it in the form of a low ache at the bottom of her lungs. She bent her knees and searched for the lock connecting the area below her left knee to the weight. With her hands independent she was able to steady the lock with one hand as the other pressed the hairpin into the mechanism.

A burse of bubbles erupted involuntarily from her mouth, the pressure of the water on her chest working together with the burn of her lungs to draw out her precious air. She tried to ignore it as she tested the pins however the burn was beginning to grow as the low ache becoming an idle pain. On top of that her fingers had become completely numb causing her to be clumsy with the lock. She was becoming to rough with it, her pins constantly resetting as a twitch or clumsy motion would move her cold hands in an involuntary manner.

The first minute gave way as the second began, Trixie’s situation looking rather grim. Less than two minutes left and she was still on the second of the five locks. Special Effects was beginning to worry even as the second lock popped open sating both his and Trixie’s worries by a hair. Trixie pulled the lock free and gripped the cuff pulling it open. It fell to the floor of the tank and with that Trixie began to tackle the lock above that same knee.

Trixie followed a similar strategy to the first, using her right hand to hold the lock steady as the left probed for the keyhole. She could feel a dread wash over her as she was unable to find it. She scanned the surface with her finger, and gave a mental sigh as her finger marked it. The lock had been affixed backwards and instead of the keyhole facing outwards it was against her skin. The hairpin used her finger for guidance and sunk into place.

Trixie’s lungs grew warier and a heavy weight settled upon them. She couldn’t tell if it was the cold, but the edges of her being were beginning to feel numb. She couldn’t even rely on the traditional “narrowing vision” as her sight was completely robbed by the blindfold. She beat back the thoughts of peril and defeat, instead honing her mind and looking at the task at hand. Each pin was a goal, and she had to tackle them one by one. The seconds ticked on and eventually with calmed nerves the lock gave way. Trixie peeled away the lock, and then the shackle just in time for the second minute to come to a close.

Trixie knew she was in trouble when her cheeks gave out and a large rush of carbon filled breath erupted from her mouth bubbling upwards into the tank. The retreat of air would have turned to a full blown rout had she not clamped her hand over her mouth. Her throat was irritated and she wanted badly to cough, to hack, and most of all to inhale. Oh what her poor little lungs would not do to suck down a fresh breath of air.

The task at hand was beginning to slip from her mind and she needed to focus, to keep on track. She was now on her right leg, gripping the upper most lock. This time she had little trouble finding the keyhole, and got straight to work. She was clumsy however, her hands numb and unwilling to cooperate. She’d get part way through pressing the little pins into place before her hand or body would spasm and the lock would snap shut. The clock was getting dangerously close to zero and Trixie still had a hundred pounds of weight strapped to her leg. She tried to focus but now her mind felt numb, the thoughts of freedom cluttered with failure, and whatever crossed her fading consciousness.

She poked around, her motions slowing until she managed to stay stead long enough for one pin to be set, then two, then three, and finally four. A twist was given and the lock opened. Trixie was nearly there when disaster struck. As she was pulling the hair pin free of the lock the bottom half twisted, bending into an unusable state. Trixie’s panic caused another eruption of bubbles, her lungs now containing little air surrounded by the acid of carbon dioxide at this point.

The audience gasped in horror at this. The timer was down to less than a half minute. Trixie tried something rash, though it was the only card she could play. She began to bend the pin back into its original state. It took precious time but eventually the pin, while not fully mended could at least fit in a lock, the last lock.

The situation was dire as the hairpin slipped into the lock. Her timer was at the final five seconds of time and her lungs were beginning to agree with it. She prodded around hardly registering the feeling of the pins in her addled mind. The clock ran out but she was still at it, she was in extra time, how much she had depended on herself. She was convulsing, her chest trying violently to force her to expel the toxin that inhabited her lungs. Of course that would just invite something far deadlier into them as a replacement.

The convulsing got worse and worse as her fingers began to stiffen, the pin growing feeble in her hand. She could get two pins to lock, but would be to slow to capitalize on a third before it snapped back into its default state. She tried to focus but her mind was starved for oxygen much like her joints, and her heart which pathetically circulating the last little bits of oxygen she had in her system. Her heart was beginning to flutter, to beat irregularly.

Her fingers twitched, the hairpin getting past the first pin, then the second. She thought she was too slow, but just in time she caught the third and pushed it into place. Her hand jerked back and she caught the last pin, the hairpin springing open to press it into place with the rest. She desperately turned the hairpin and the lock snapped open. Trixie’s hands clumsily battered at it until finally it fell away.

Trixie was kneeling in the tank and in one motion she launched upwards, a stream of bubbles following her until she broke the surface. She threw her head back and inhaled sharply. The air was warm against her face. She gripped the side of the tank and anchored herself there, clinging to it for dear life. She could hear thunder all around her. At first she thought it was her oxygen enriched pulse pounding in her skull until she took off her blindfold and saw the audience on its feet, giving her a standing ovation.

Trixie took another breath, then another, until finally she stopped shaking. The stairs that had early abandoned her came rolling back, Special Effects still riding them. Once they made contact with the glass container he bent down and offered her a hand. She happily took it, allowing him to pull her out of the water. Once on dry land she descended the stairs, the roar of cheers still deafening. The spotlights followed her until she was the edge of the stage and which point she took a bow.

Author's Note

Hey oh, I hope you enjoy this story, if you are interested I have a lot more stuff on my Tumblr, though it is a bit older