It all started off so simply. Mom asked me to do a favor for a family friend, and I agreed because ... well, everything at home goes a lot smoother if Mom’s happy. I might not live with my parents anymore, but I still visited often enough that I didn’t want to give Mom an excuse to lay on the maternal guilt trips about how I couldn’t do a single small favor for her after she’d loved and supported me for my whole life. Don’t get me wrong, Mom’s great, but when she asks you to do something, it’s best for everyone if you just do it. When Mom’s not happy... Well, her unhappiness gets a bit contagious.
But that’s why I was spending my Saturday on the other side of Canterlot, poking around a fairly nice apartment complex and searching for unit number 111A instead of meeting up with my buddies for our usual weekend game. Or helping Twily look for her favorite books in the library. Or hanging out with Cadance. Or ... well, any of the things I normally like to do during the weekends.
After a couple minutes of searching, I finally found the right one. It didn’t look like anything special—just another bland but generically nice apartment in the complex. The only noticeable thing was that all the blinds were down and the lights were off. I had to wonder if that meant nopony was home: maybe the mare Mom had sent me to talk to was out? Out doing something fun, the way most ponies would on a Saturday afternoon. Except for ponies who got roped into doing a favor for their mother instead.
Still, I wasn’t going to assume that nopony was home just because the lights were out. Mom certainly wouldn’t be amused if I walked away without even checking. I walked up to the front door and knocked. Nopony answered. I knocked some more, just to make sure she could hear me. I wanted to make sure I’d covered all my bases if Mom asked.
Just when I was about to give up, I heard somepony shuffling around inside. I waited patiently until the front door finally opened, revealing a pair of bleary pink eyes beneath a messy electric blue mane. The unicorn mare glowered blearily at me. “Whadaya want?”
I answered with a friendly smile. “Hey, are you Vinyl Scratch? Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
She yawned and stretched. “I ... think so? S’too early to be sure. Wha’s...” She rubbed her eyes, then did a double-take at my uniform and stepped back. “Oh! Hey, Mister Guard Pony! Um ... is this about the thing last night?”
I couldn’t help but be just a bit curious when it came to what she was talking about. “And what thing would that be?”
“Look, I didn’t even see anything,” Vinyl groused. “I was busy DJing, and I don’t see what the big deal is anyway. It’s a nightclub, ponies are gonna get a little rowdy sometimes. You certainly didn’t have to wake me up this early just to bug me about it.”
I couldn’t let that one pass without comment. “It’s one in the afternoon.”
“And I was DJing at a nightclub,” she grumbled. “C’mon in then. Lemme get some coffee in me and I’ll answer whatever you wanna ask.”
I trotted into her apartment and was instantly reminded of the dorm rooms of a couple of my less tidy college friends. The place wasn’t a complete pigsty, but there was a large trash bag full of empty cider bottles and pizza boxes. There were a few well-used couches in the center of the room, but most of the apartment’s free space was taken up by an impressive collection of musical equipment. Which I suppose was no surprise, given Vinyl’s occupation.
Despite my curiosity over just what she’d gotten up to last night, I figured it was time to clear things up. Once I was settled on a reasonably clean sofa opposite from the one Vinyl was sitting on, I cleared my throat and got to it. “Actually, I’m not here about whatever happened last night. I’m here because—”
The rest of that sentence died on my lips as another mare stepped out of the bedroom, the bedsheet wrapped around her like a cloak. I probably shouldn’t have been staring quite so hard at her, but she was an absolute knockout. A light pink coat just a shade off of Cadance’s, a long, luxurious white mane, and the sort of build you usually only see on a fashion model. Even though she’d obviously just gotten out of bed and hadn’t made herself up, she still looked good. Real good. Good enough that I felt a bit guilty for noticing how good she looked.
Okay, technically there was no reason I should feel guilty. I was a single, unattached stallion. Despite my best efforts to correct that with Cadance. It ... it was a bit complicated. I’d tried to let her know how I felt about her, and it had kind of gone horribly wrong. Somehow the conversation ended with her thinking that I wasn’t interested in mares. I just don’t know what went wrong and to be honest, I’d been so mortified I couldn’t even think of a way to fix it.
So really, there was no reason I shouldn’t be allowed to look at another attractive mare. And yet, I still felt guilty. Being in love does strange things to a pony.
She must have noticed me trying not to drool, because she shot me a grin and turned to Vinyl, her voice coming out as a seductive purr. “Vinyl, why didn’t you tell me we had company? And such handsome company, too.” She languidly settled down next to Vinyl on her sofa, her eyes lingering on me the whole time.
Vinyl scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Down, Musette, you just met him. Besides, he’s here on Guard business.”
I cleared my throat and tried very hard to not look too closely at the mare. “Right. I’m a guardpony. This is what guardponies look like. Well, not all of us, some of us look different. And ... um ... anyway, I'm Lieutenant Shining Armor of the Royal Guard. I’m actually not here on official business, this is more of a ... um ... well my mother asked me to help you out. Twilight Velvet. That’s my mom’s name. She, uh, she said you were having some trouble with an overenthusiastic fan?”
Vinyl groaned, running a hoof down her face. “Ugh, Mooom!” She shook her head and grumbled several things under her breath. “I told her it wasn’t a big deal and not to freak out about it. But instead ... well, I think you know what happened.” I shot her a confused look, and she glowered at me. “My mom. Quill Scratch, works for your dad. Ringing any bells?”
“Oh, right!” I blinked, then stared at her. “Wait, you’re Quill’s daughter? Geeze, no wonder Mom wanted me to help you out. Quill’s been working for Dad forever.”
“Longer than I’ve been around,” Vinyl agreed. “Guess I oughta be flattered her boss sent his son to sort this out. Y’know, if not for the fact that this is all a huge waste of time because there isn’t actually a problem and my mom’s freaking out over nothing.”
Vinyl’s friend Musette pointedly cleared her throat. “Vinyl, I know you want to be fearless and tough, but I’m scared of that crazy mare. What if she tries to hurt you? I would feel just awful if something happened to you.”
“Our mothers both seemed to think it was a big enough deal for me to come here,” I pointed out. “And if your mother’s anything like mine, she’s not going to let this drop until she’s satisfied. If you don’t let me help you, she’ll just find some other way to get involved.”
Vinyl’s expression reminded me of the look on Twily’s face as a filly whenever she needed to take some especially nasty medicine. “Yeah, you’re probably right. And whatever she comes up with next would probably be even worse than dragging you in.”
“Exactly.” Musette shot me a loaded look that sent some very inappropriate thoughts rushing into my brain. Or at least the part of me that was doing a lot of thinking. “Let's be nice to the big, strong, handsome guardpony who's here to help us.” Her eyes slowly travelled up and down my body. “In whatever way we want.”
I cleared my throat and tried very hard to put all of the unprofessional thoughts Musette was inspiring out of my head. Not even Cadance had this kind of effect on me. With Cadance I was usually just so comfortable around her that those kind of thoughts didn’t bother me so much. I mean, obviously I found her very attractive, but it wasn’t anything like the raw lust Musette seemed to inspire.
Fortunately, one of the many things I learned at West Hoof was self-discipline. I put those thoughts out of my mind with a conscious effort of will. “I'd like to hear what's going on myself. If it's nothing, then it's nothing and I assure your mom that everything's okay. If something is wrong, then I can help deal with the situation and calm your mother down.”
“Fine, fine,” Vinyl grumbled, waving her hooves in concession. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner things can go back to normal.”
“Alright then.” I might have gone into the purely military side of the Guard, but I knew enough about law enforcement to have a decent idea of how it all worked. Plus ... well, I had read a few detective books. That had to count for something. “So, what can you tell me about this pony who’s been bothering you? Name, distinguishing features, anything?”
Vinyl shrugged. “Didn’t get a name or anything. To be honest, I didn’t even really notice any kind of problem until Musette pointed her out. As far as features ... earth pony, light grey coat, dark grey mane, purple eyes. Looked kinda snobby too—you know, one of those real upper class types? Kinda stands out from the usual sorts of ponies in the nightclub scene, but I figured she was just trying to slum it and doing a bad job of it. She wouldn’t be the first hoity-toity noble or spoiled daughter of a rich merchant who wanted to party with the commoners.”
I cleared my throat and decided not to mention that I was technically part of the Canterlot nobility, and while I wasn’t a party animal, I’d certainly gone out on the town a few times back when I was in West Hoof. “Right. So what exactly has she done to cause a problem?”
The DJ rubbed at the back of her mane. “Just shown up at my concerts and stuff. I’ve never even talked to her or anything.”
“All of your concerts!” Musette shivered. “And the way she looks at you. I'm afraid she’s planning to do something awful. And don’t forget that package I told you about...”
Vinyl blinked and shook her head. “Right right, that. It was ... yeah, that was a little freaky. Musette found a present sitting in front of the door one night. You know, all nice and wrapped up with a bow on top. And inside of it was a dead rat.”
Okay, that definitely qualified as messed up. “I don’t suppose you still have it? There might be some evidence.”
“Oh no, I got rid of that awful thing as soon as I saw it.” Musette trembled, pressing herself against Vinyl and getting a comforting hug in return.
I probably should’ve expected that. Most ponies wouldn’t want to hang on to a box with a dead rat in it. “Right, then. And did your stalker include anything that would tie this back to her? If she left the box I could probably arrest her for it, but the charges won’t stick if I don’t have some way to prove she’s the one who did it.”
Not to mention I’d probably get in a fair bit of trouble. After all, I was a palace guard playing amateur detective as a favor to a family friend. The law enforcement division would definitely get mad about me sticking my nose in their domain if I botched this, and my superiors wouldn’t back me up. Sure, Mom and Dad would have enough pull to shield me from the worst of the fallout, but I really didn’t want to depend on them to protect me from my own screw-ups.
“Sorry,” Vinyl grimaced, shaking her head. “It’s not like she left a return address on it, or included a note with her name and cutie mark.”
“But you can do something, right?” Musette pleaded, her eyes wide and desperate. “I don't feel safe anymore. Not with her around. Every time I hear a strange sound or see something out of the corner of my eyes, I have to wonder if she’s finally making her move.”
I frowned and thought it over. Without any evidence I couldn’t really do anything official about the stalker. The only way to actually get some would be to wait for her to do something else or stake out Vinyl’s home and concerts until the perp did something arrestable. Neither of those options sounded very good to me; waiting for the bad guy to do something else was never a good strategy, and I definitely didn’t want to spend days or even weeks putting all my free time into fixing this.
So if official solutions were out, maybe it was time to try something unofficial. “I could always talk to this mare. A lot of these types of ponies aren’t insane monsters or anything—they just have poor social skills and don’t really understand where the proper boundaries are. Not to mention having a guardpony tell them to cut it out makes a pretty strong impression.”
“It’s worth a shot,” Vinyl agreed. “I thought about trying to talk to her myself, but Musette was afraid that’d just set her off.”
“She is a crazy stalker who seems to be obsessed with you and has already sent us threatening messages,” Musette rather reasonably pointed out. “Who knows what she would do if you actually confronted her? It would probably just make things even worse. That’s why your mother asked Shining to help us.” Her gaze shifted to me, giving me a heavy-lidded look that promised all sorts of interesting things. “Our protector, here to keep us safe...”
“Um...” I cleared my throat and tried very hard to ignore that look and act like a professional. Because I was a professional. A totally professional guardpony who definitely wasn’t shifting around on the couch to hide the effect that look was having on me. Yup. Professionalism was practically my middle name. “I, well, I’m just doing my duty, ma’am.”
“And we appreciate that so much...” Musette’s tone and eyes making it clear exactly how she planned to express that appreciation. Which I admit I found more than a little intriguing despite my better judgement. With a name like Shining Armor, I was pretty much obligated to look after damsels in distress, and Musette definitely seemed to qualify...
Vinyl snorted and nudged her friend in the side. “Sheesh, Musey, don’t you think you’re coming on a little strong?”
Musette blinked, and while it was hard to tell through her pink coat I suspected she was blushing a bit. “Oh. Right. Sorry, it’s just ... well the last few days have been so stressful, and I’m just so glad that it might all be getting taken care of.” She shot me a rather sheepish smile. “Maybe I overdid things a little bit, but I just wanted to say ... um, thank you..”
Now I was the one blushing and rubbing my mane. Pretty girls smiling and thanking me tends to have that effect. “It’s fine. Kinda flattering, actually. It’s just—well—I’m just doing my duty. You gals need help, so I’m gonna help. You don’t owe me anything for that, it’s just the right thing to do.” A part of my brain wanted to add that while Musette certainly didn’t owe me anything, she was free to express her gratitude in whatever manner she desired. A part of my brain that I almost certainly shouldn’t listen to, no matter how tempting it was.
Vinyl looked me over, then nodded approvingly. “Not bad. Okay, you pass the test—you’re on my official list of cool ponies. Want a cider?”
I sighed and shook my head. “I probably shouldn’t be drinking. I presume you’ll be performing again tonight?”
Vinyl shot me a flat look. “It’s Saturday night. I DJ at nightclubs. You can do the math.” When she put it like that the answer was pretty obvious, but I’ve learned the hard way that assuming things is a good way to get in trouble. “And yeah, Musey says Miss Psycho Fangirl is showing up every time I perform, so it’s a pretty safe bet she’ll be there.”
“Right, so I think we’ve got a gameplan.” I nodded to myself. “I’ll show up at your performance, find your stalker, then take her aside for a few words. Nice and simple.”
“Sounds like you got it wrapped up already.” Vinyl yawned, covering her mouth. “Well, I’m too awake to go back to sleep now, so I’m gonna make some coffee and have a cider. Either of you two want anything?”
I thought about commenting on the fact that mixing cider and coffee was odd to begin with, especially when she’d just woken up, but thought better of it. Musette seemed to agree with the sentiment, because she shot me a sheepish grin as Vinyl trotted off to the kitchen. “Artists. They all have a few lovable eccentricities.”
“Right.” Now that Vinyl was out of the room, I could finally ask about something that had been bugging me a bit. After all, she’d come out of Vinyl’s bedroom, but then... “So, um, you and Vinyl are...?”
Musette grinned and giggled softly. “Just friends. Well, mostly friends.” She leaned forward and whispered. “Sometimes she does get a little affectionate when she’s on a creative roll, and I certainly don’t mind that, but nothing serious. Besides, getting involved with her would be...” She trailed off, frowning to herself. “Well, suffice to say I don’t think it would be a good idea. There are boundaries that need to be respected.”
“You two work together?” I guessed.
“In a manner of speaking.” She grinned, leaning back on the couch. “Vinyl’s a solo act when it comes to the performance itself, but she needs somepony to bounce ideas off of and give her opinions on any works in progress. Things like that.”
“So you’re her sounding board?”
Musette chuckled. “Oh, that makes it all sound so stiff and formal. I prefer to think of myself as a friend and roommate who just helps her out every once in awhile. Though I suppose it’s not an entirely altruistic relationship. I admit, sometimes it’s just so fascinating to watch her creating her art. The entire process is just ... incredible.”
I couldn’t really think of anything similar, unless you counted when Twily went into a studying frenzy. And that sight wasn’t so much inspiring as it was disturbing. My little sister really gets into her books sometimes. “I'll take your word on that.”
“What about you?” Musette asked with a hopeful little smile. “I suppose the Guard doesn't leave much room for creativity, but some ponies do have a hidden artistic side that’s just waiting for the right chance to express itself.”
“Um...” For a brief, irrational moment I was tempted to make up some sort of artistic interest just to impress her. Thankfully it was only a moment, or else I probably would’ve done something that made me look like a complete idiot. “Sorry, I’m not really much of an art guy. Not unless you count stuff like coming up with battle strategies or trying to find ways to make my unit run more efficiently. Honestly, the only time I get creative is during—” I quickly cut myself off, lest I say too much. I might not be an expert when it comes to charming mares, but even I knew that bringing up game night with the guys usually didn’t impress girls.
Musette grinned, getting up from her couch and moving over to mine to gently nudge me in the side. “Oh come on, don’t be shy. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m sure that whatever you’re working on is amazing. So what are you? A musician? A singer? Perhaps a budding poet?”
“Er, none of those actually...” I shuffled self-consciously, especially now that the pretty mare was sitting right next to me. “It’s ... honestly it’s just a game I play with some of the guys. You know, Mazes and Magi? It’s not really very ... artistic.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” She smiled reassuringly, scooting a bit closer to me. “There’s quite a bit of art involved in the game. You have to create characters and a story just like a writer, and then act out the roles. It’s a collaborative storytelling and improvisational acting exercise.”
“Really?” She made it sound a lot more impressive than it actually was. “I mean, we usually just eat a lot of pizza, drink a lot of soda, and pretend we’re killing a bunch of orcs and goblins.”
“Art comes in many forms.” She tapped the side of the couch a few times. “Actually, I’ve been looking for a new group to play with. I lost track of my old Mazes and Magi group after I moved to Canterlot, and—”
“You play Mazes and Magi?” Sure, I knew that there were girls who were into the game; I’d even managed to get Cadance and Twily to try it out once, though it hadn’t really worked out. Cadance kept trying to use diplomacy on all the bad guys, and Twilight had come up with the most horrifyingly overpowered character ever thanks to figuring out how to combine half a dozen loopholes I’d never noticed before. No amount of explaining that she really shouldn’t play that sort of character would sway her from her stubborn insistence that the character should be fine since everything she’d done was allowed by the book.
Musette smiled and nodded. “I’m a huge fan of the game. A girl has to have a few hobbies. I don’t suppose your group has room for another player?”
“I’ll have to ask them.” Not that the answer was in any doubt: I was pretty sure my buddies would kill me if they found out I’d turned down a chance to add a beautiful mare to our gaming group. “So, uh, what kind of characters do you like to play?”
“Oh, it varies.” She shrugged. “You know how it goes—pick whatever fits in best with the rest of the group. If the group needs a spellcaster, I play a spellcaster. If they need a knight, I’ll play a knight. And so on.” She grinned. “I suppose it’s just like with Vinyl: I find the best way to fit and make things work for everypony.” She glanced down at her flank, which I’d been trying very hard not to pay too much attention to. Her cutie mark was a strange double flute thing that I didn’t recognize. “It’s ... well, that’s kind of my special talent. Finding a way to fit in and make things work better and help artists discover that special creative spark that they need.” A bit of a sheepish blush crept onto her cheeks. “That’s why I was bugging you so much about whether you were into anything artistic.”
“Oh.” I chuckled and nodded understandingly. “I think I know exactly how you feel. It’s just like me and wanting to protect somepony.”
“So that’s why you’re sticking around so hard.” Vinyl stepped out the kitchen, a large mug of coffee in one hoof. Apparently she hadn’t just been getting something to drink, because she’d also fixed her bed-mane and put on a pair of purple sunglasses. “Guess I should’ve figured that you’d be way too stubborn about protecting potential damsels in distress with a name like Shining Armor.”
I chuckled and rubbed the back of my head. “Yeah, maybe a little. It’s just ... well, I'd feel pretty bad if you got hurt after my mom asked me to make sure you were safe.”
Vinyl sighed and shook her head. “Still not wild about this, but I guess having my own personal bodyguard could be kinda cool. I mean, I still think everypony’s making a big deal over nothing, buuut I don't think Musette or Mom will let me drop it, so I guess I’ll just have to live with it.”
Musette shot her a cheeky grin. “Yup, that’s pretty much how it is.”
“I’ll try not to cause you too many problems,” I offered diplomatically. “I’m here to help you, not get in your way or mess with your personal or professional life. With any luck I can find this mare who’s bothering you tonight, talk to her, and get her to back off. Less than one day to sort it all out, and then you never have to see me again.”
“Not unless we want to,” Musette chimed in, shooting me another one of those looks that bypassed my brain and went straight to my libido.
Vinyl looked between the two of us and raised an eyebrow. “Well well well ... did Musette find out you're an artist?”
I chuckled sheepishly, feeling just a little silly. “Er, not exactly...”
Musette smirked and nudged me in the side. “Maybe not an artist in the traditional sense, but it’s close enough to count for me. Plus he seems like a pretty cool guy, and I could always use another friend. Don’t worry, Vinyl, I’ll still be around whenever you need somepony for your jam sessions.”
“Better be.” She sipped her coffee, then grinned at me. “The name probably gave it away, but she’s pretty good at helping me get the music flowing. Guess it just helps to have somepony there to bounce ideas off of and get a second opinion from. You know how it is. Been that way ever since we hooked up a couple months back.”
“You ... hooked up?” I was pretty sure she meant that in a non-romantic sense, given what Musette had said earlier, but I wanted to be sure.
“Yeah, you know, became friends and all that,” Vinyl explained, much to my relief. “I was putting on a show, Musey found me once I was done and we started talking. We really hit it off, got to be buddies, and then she offered to move in when I needed a new roommate. It’s been working out pretty well so far.” She paused, then lowered her shades and smirked at me. “Even if she does stuff like snap up the cute guardponies who come here to protect me before I even get a shot at them.”
“Um...” I struggled to think of something reasonably intelligent to say. I wasn’t used to having mares flirting with me, and certainly not two of them at once. I could already feel my cheeks heating up as my brain went to some very inappropriate places. “Um...”
Vinyl snorted so hard she spilled a bit of her coffee on the carpet. “Chillax bro, I'm just messing with you. You’re not my type, and I don’t think our parents would approve.”
“Er, right.” I let out a relieved sigh. Normally a stallion my age wouldn’t complain about having two pretty mares coming after him, but in this case it probably would’ve caused a bunch of messy complications I really didn’t need to deal with. “That's fine, really.”
Vinyl snorted again, then finished off her coffee. “Y’know what? You're alright. Tell you what, you get this whole psycho fangirl thing sorted out for me and I’ll put you on my buddies list whenever I put on a show. Hook you up with some free tickets, a backstage pass—whatever you want.” She set her mug down on top of a bookcase, next to two other used coffee mugs that had clearly been there for a while. Upon noticing Musette’s disapproving scowl, Vinyl sighed and levitated all three of the dirty mugs to the kitchen. “At least she’s not bugging me about using a coaster this time.”
“You really should do that.” Musette groused.
“Yeah, yeah...” Vinyl rolled her eyes and shifted her attention to me. “Right, so are you gonna be in uniform at the show tonight?”
“I was thinking I would be, as long as that’s not going to be an issue.” I might not be on official Guard business, but wearing a uniform would add a little extra weight to everything I did. Vinyl’s overenthusiastic fan would take me a lot more seriously if she knew I was in the Guard rather than just being some random stallion sticking my nose into her business. Plus if things got nasty, I would have a much easier time arresting the mare if I looked like a Guardpony.
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Vinyl assured me. “We usually get cadets from West Hoof more than actual guards, but you military types like a night out on the town as much as anypony.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, then added, “Although if anyone asks, could you maybe try to say something like the Guard sent you because my last concert got so wild that they wanna make sure it doesn’t happen again? That'll play well.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I answered dryly. I normally wasn’t the type to make up wild stories, but it seemed like a harmless little lie that might boost up Vinyl’s reputation a bit. Besides, after whatever happened with her yesterday, it would probably seem fairly plausible. “Don’t worry, I have plenty of experience getting into places while wearing my uniform.”
Musette grinned at me. “Sounds like there’s an interesting story there...”
I smiled back. “Well, maybe once all this business is taken care of, I’ll tell you all about it.”
I couldn’t be sure when she was wearing sunglasses, but I suspect Vinyl was rolling her eyes. “Alright you two, break it up. I might as well start practicing for tonight’s show since I’m up. Musey, you know what to do. Shining ... well, I hope you like my music, ‘cause you’re gonna be listening to it for the next several hours.”
“Sure thing.” She was a professional musician, so it was bound to be good.
I was pretty sure I’d been permanently deafened.
My ears wouldn’t stop ringing. All I could hear was the deep, throbbing echoes of Vinyl’s music bouncing through my brain over and over again. Like a massive herd of elephants tap-dancing on my eardrums, except louder.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, I had to drop by the club Vinyl was performing at the same night to deal with her stalker. Unsurprisingly, the nightclub adhered to the common industry policy of playing the music loud enough to make the windows rattle and render any form of normal conversation impossible.
Alright, maybe I was exaggerating a little. Yeah, the music actually was that loud out on the dance floor, but it wasn’t as bad over by the bar and at the tables. Presumably they’d either set up spells to keep the volume down or it was just something about acoustics and how the speakers were placed. Probably the second of those; just putting the speakers in the right places was a lot cheaper than paying for somepony to set up and maintain sound-dampening spells.
Much as I would’ve preferred to stay in the quieter areas of the club, I couldn’t exactly ignore the dance floor. Especially since Vinyl’s sound equipment was set up right next to it. If she was being harassed by a crazy stalker, the stalker would probably try to approach her from that direction. Fortunately, I knew enough about magic to protect my poor, ravaged ears from any further harm.
However, cutting down the volume only did so much for my attempt to find any troublemakers. The club also had a fog machine and strobe lighting that, while no doubt cool for the dancers, made it pretty difficult to spot any potential troublemakers. On top of that, the dance floor was a mass of wildly thrashing bodies that made me wonder if they’d all been infected with the Sparkle Family Dancing Curse. And that was pretty bad dancing, considering that the one time Cadance had dragged me out onto the floor at the West Hoof graduation ball I’d wound up somehow accidentally knocking over the concessions table. I’d managed to protect Cadance from the mess with a shield spell, but that just meant it splattered over everypony else instead. Which was especially bad since Princess Celestia had been attending to celebrate West Hoof’s 875th graduating class.
Needless to say, I’d spent the rest of my time at West Hoof peeling potatoes. Thank goodness it had happened at the graduation ball, so there hadn’t been too much time for the Sergeant-Instructors to make me suffer. Though that just prompted them to make the most of the time they had.
I suppose if all else failed, I could always try to clear out the dance floor by joining in on the fun. Hopefully that would make everypony get out of the way before I caused irreparable structural damage to the building.
I wasn’t quite desperate enough to resort to extreme measures like dancing. Not yet, at least. Instead, I just trotted around the club, trying to find an earth pony mare matching the description I’d gotten from Musette and Vinyl. For once, luck seemed to be on my side, because I managed to find her without too much trouble. It helped that there weren’t any other ponies in the nightclub standing by the bar looking really snooty and out-of-place. Something about the bowtie and regally disdainful expression on her face just made it abundantly clear that she did not belong in a nightclub like this. Or any nightclub, probably. I’d expect to see a mare like her at a high-society party, not listening to Vinyl’s beats.
However, that’s exactly what she was doing. What really caught my attention was her eyes: they were locked with almost laser-like intensity on the stage, where Vinyl was working her turntables. I could just barely see Musette hidden behind the curtain, cheering Vinyl on from backstage. I kept an eye on the stalker for a few minutes, and her eyes never left the stage for more than a few seconds. I could definitely understand why Musette was a little freaked out by this mare if she did that during every show.
Well, time to do my job. I took a deep breath and carefully approached her, puffing out my chest just a bit. Just trying to make myself look a bit more impressive, and make my uniform stand out a bit more. After all, I was trying to ... well not scare her off, but ... okay yeah, pretty much scare her off. Shining Armor, defender of the innocent, protector of the weak and intimidator of stalker-mares. My mom would be so proud right now.
With that thought in mind, I tried to take a more gentlemanly approach to the whole thing. I settled into one of the seats next to her at the bar and tried for a friendly, charming smile. “Hello there. Come around here often?”
The potential stalker turned to me, lifting a single dignified eyebrow and giving me a rather frosty once-over. It occurred to me a couple seconds too late that it might have sounded a bit like I was trying to hit on her. Thankfully, the uniform seemed to at least convince her that I merited an answer. “Hello, lieutenant,” she responded coolly, evidently familiar enough with the Guard to recognize rank insignia. “I come here when it suits me. Though the company leaves something to be desired. And if you were planning on offering to buy me a drink ... don’t.”
Ouch. Not that I’d actually been hitting on her, but if I had been I would’ve liked to think I wouldn’t get shot down that quickly. I mean, I’m a semi-decent looking and reasonably charming stallion. I should’ve had a chance.
Now was hardly the time for bruised egos, though. I took a deep breath and stiffened my spine, shifting my tone to something a lot more official-sounding. “I'm Lieutenant Shining Armor, and from what I've been hearing, you've been showing up to a lot of Vinyl's shows and causing a few problems. The sort of problems where a Guardpony like me gets involved.”
“Is that so?” Her tone turned even frostier, but she leaned away from me and crossed her forelegs over her chest, trying to affect an air of casual disdain. Despite that, I didn’t miss the way her eyes briefly flicked towards the nearest exit. She might be hiding it very well, but she was nervous. Her voice didn’t give anything away, though. “And where exactly have you been hearing such talk?”
I kept my tone as stiff and formal as hers. Two could play at that game. “From Vinyl herself, and the ponies that care about her.”
Her eyes flicked back to the stage again. “I should have known. I suppose you’re here at the behest of her companion? The one who calls herself Musette?”
“‘Who calls herself Musette’?” I repeated, mulling over the interesting implications of that particular turn of phrase. “Sounds like you have a history with her.”
“I can’t be entirely sure if I do or not,” the mare murmured under her breath, which just made me even more confused about the whole situation. She stared at the stage for a few seconds longer, then shifted her attention fully to me. “A question, before we go any further: what do you think of Musette? Your full opinion of her, both the good and the bad. Don’t hold back any details, even if they seem inconsequential.”
“Er...” I had no idea why she would ask something like that, but I didn’t see any harm in playing along. “She seems nice enough. Pretty, charming, funny, and pretty. A little pushy at first, but I think that was mostly just her teasing me. Kinda one of those weird artsy types, but not in a bad sort of way—plus she wanted to join my Mazes and Magi group. If she’s a halfway decent player, the rest of the guys will love having her around.”
The stalker looked me over, then sniffed faintly. “Interesting. You’re not acting like a lovesick puppy desperate for her approval, so it seems the vaunted Guard willpower training is actually worth something. It’s a bit of a risk, but I think it’s safe to say she hasn’t gotten to you yet.”
“Gotten to me?” I repeated incredulously. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying she’s some kind of mind-controller?”
“Yes, she is.” She paused a moment, then offered me her hoof. “I hope you’ll forgive me for not introducing myself sooner, but considering the circumstances I felt caution was warranted. I am Octavia Melody, and it is a pleasure to meet you, lieutenant.” I shook her hoof, which she maintained just long enough to be properly polite before pulling away. “As for Musette, yes, if my suspicions are correct she is indeed capable of controlling ponies’ minds. And quite a bit more besides. I have good reason to believe she is a muse. I trust you are familiar with those?”
I rubbed my chin and thought back to my classes at West Hoof. I hadn’t spent a lot of time studying different hostile creatures—I wasn’t planning to join the monster hunters in the Long Patrol or anything—but a basic grounding in the subject was mandatory for all officers. “Muses. They’re a type of fey, right? Really into art?”
Octavia nodded, her face grim. “Just so. They feed off of the psychic energy involved in the act of artistic creation. It’s not immediately dangerous to the victim, but long-term exposure can be rather ... unhealthy. Not to mention that, like all fey, they are quite fond of striking bargains.” She grimaced and shook her head. “One of my teachers had the misfortune of crossing a muse. Thus, my interest in the matter.”
I could guess what had happened easily enough. “He cut a deal with one and got the short end of the stick?”
Octavia nodded grimly. “One had been associating with him for some time when he idly mentioned that he would trade his right hoof to become a cellist equal to the great Animando Assai. Suffice to say that my teacher is the best three-hooved cellist I have ever heard.”
I winced sympathetically. “Yeah, fey tend to get real nasty when it comes to enforcing their bargains. They’re great at being either incredibly literal or taking the most tortured, loophole-ridden interpretation possible—whichever gives them the best deal, really. But what makes you so sure Musette’s a muse?” I frowned, then shook my head. “I mean, you’d think if she was actually an ancient fey that preyed upon the creative energies of artists, she’d at least come up with a better alias.”
Octavia chuckled softly and shook her head. “Muses are known for inspiring creativity in others. Their ability to practice it themselves is ... rather more dubious. They can still imitate any existing art quite well, but they lack the creative spark that marks a true artist.”
I nodded along. “Right, that’s why they hang around artists and feed off of them. Since they can’t create anything themselves, they have to leech off of ponies who can.”
“Exactly,” Octavia agreed. “Though the feeding isn’t really my main concern; what really concerns me is the possibility that she’s made some sort of bargain with Vinyl. Not to put too fine a point on it, but taking a hoof is not the worst that muses have been known to do to their victims. There have been artists who traded their lives for the immortality that comes from creating a masterpiece.”
“No way I’d let that happen.” I paused, frowning faintly. “This is starting to sound a bit more serious than what I thought I was dealing with. Maybe I should get some backup.”
“That might be prudent, yes,” Octavia agreed. “Muses can be rather dangerous, depending on whether one defines things like martial arts as an art form. As I said, while they lack creativity they can be quite good at imitating established styles.”
In other words, she might not be able to invent her own unique form of plot-kicking, but she’d be a black belt in every existing style of it. I didn’t exactly like the idea of matching whatever creative talents I had against that kind of broad mastery. “Yeah, I think I need lots of backup.” Which did raise one rather important question I’d been diplomatically avoiding up to this point to keep the conversation amicable. “Er, it’d be a lot easier to persuade my bosses to lend me said backup if I had some solid proof that Musette is what you say she is.”
For all I knew, Octavia was just a delusional looney, but I knew saying that wouldn’t go over nearly as well as playing along and acting like I believed her. For what it was worth, she certainly didn’t seem like an obsessive crazy pony, but that could just mean she was good at pretending to be normal. She wouldn’t be the first crazy fan to come up with an elaborate theory about how a celebrity’s friend was actually an evil monster who the celebrity needed to be saved from. Heck, I wasn’t even a crazy fanpony, and I’d fantasized once or twice about saving beautiful mares from evil monsters.
Octavia grimaced and shook her head. “That has been something of a stumbling block, yes. To be quite honest, it’s why I’ve been conducting my own amateur investigation into the matter instead of contacting the authorities. I doubt they would take me seriously without any evidence, especially when Musette could employ her fey glamour to charm anypony who actually did look into my charges.” She frowned to herself. “Although if she is setting the guards on me, she must be worried I'm onto her.”
Or she just thinks you’re a crazy lunatic with a particularly elaborate set of delusions, I thought to myself. However, I opted to keep playing along and see what else she had to say; most crazies are pretty talkative if they think they have a receptive audience. “She was the one most concerned about you.”
“But of course she was,” Octavia murmured. “Out of curiosity, what did she say to convince you that I needed to be investigated?”
“For starters, she said that you were stalking Vinyl at all of her performances.”
Octavia let out a disdainful sniff. “I was investigating the potentially dangerous fey. Vinyl Scratch is of little interest to me beyond the fact that she seems to be Musette’s current target.” She paused, then grudgingly admitted, “Though I will grant that she is a rather talented performer, albeit one whose abilities are limited on account of her chosen genre. Pity she didn’t study the classical styles; she might have been great.”
Well, that sort of disdain usually wasn’t the kind of thing you’d hear from an obsessed fan. Not that I was an expert of the subject or anything. “There’s more to it than just showing up at her performances—she also said that you left a dead rat at Vinyl's door.”
Octavia blinked and recoiled, her eyes widening with shock. “I most certainly did not! I would never do something so ... crude!” She scoffed, her voice rising as her indignation mounted. “The nerve of that creature, saying that I did something so absolutely horrid!”
Her shouting was starting to draw a bit too much attention, so I tried to defuse things before she started causing a scene. “You might want to keep your voice down, unless you want Musette to overhear us.”
Octavia jumped, her eyes nervously darting towards the Musette. “Oh. Right. Of course.” She turned her attention back to me a moment later. “So ... you believe me? About Musette?”
I decided it was time to give her an honest answer. “I’m not sure if I do or not, but I definitely think it’s worth looking into. If Musette is what you say she is, it won’t be too hard to prove it. Fey can’t tell a direct lie, and they’re famous for their massive aversion to cold iron. Gives me two pretty easy litmus tests to check whether she’s really a muse or not.”
I’d probably try to use the lie thing first, since cold iron would disrupt my magic. Needless to say, there’d been quite a bit of speculation on the fact that cold iron was both toxic to fey and disrupted unicorn magic. I vaguely recalled hearing a theory that unicorns had started off as some sort of fey/pony crossbreed, or as a group of ponies that somehow stole fey magic. Twiley would probably know a whole lot more about it.
Octavia looked me over, then very slowly nodded. “I suppose that’s all there is to it, then. I would have tried to do those myself, but I rather doubt she would’ve let me get close enough to expose her to cold iron, and if she’s got Vinyl convinced I’m some sort of psychopath it would be easy to dodge any questions I posed.”
I nodded and chuckled softly. “Running at her while waving around a cold iron knife and shouting a bunch of crazy questions probably isn’t the best way to convince everypony that you’re not an insane stalker.” I let that joke hang in the air for a moment, then added, “Though just so you know, it is against the law to lie to an officer of the Guard when it’s related to a law enforcement issue. Just thought I should mention that fact, in case there are any last-minute changes you want to make to your statement.”
The mare regarded me levelly for several moments, then firmly declared, “I stand by everything I said.”
Well, I guess that meant that she was being sincere. Either Musette really was a muse or Octavia was delusional. I suppose the truth would be revealed soon enough, either way. “I’ll take care of things from here. For now, the best thing you can do is lay low for a while. It’ll make Musette believe I scared you off like she wanted me to. That’ll probably make her let her guard down.” Or alternately, keep Octavia far enough away from Musette and Vinyl that they’d be safe from her until we could make an arrest.
“If that is what you think best, then I shall trust your judgement.” She sighed softly, her shoulders slumping. “To be quite honest, it will be a relief to have the matter settled and out of my hooves. Doing all this investigation by myself was quite stressful. Not to mention...” Her eyes flicked around the nightclub, and at the many wildly dressed ponies writhing on the dance floor. “Well, this isn’t exactly the sort of place I would normally care to spend my free time. Though I would hardly want Miss Scratch to become the victim of a muse just because I am less than enthused by her taste in music.”
If not for the fact that my eardrums were still recovering, I might have felt obligated to speak up in defense of Vinyl’s talents. As it was, I kept focused on the job. “So if there isn't anything else you think I should know, I'll get to work on dealing with Musette.”
Octavia frowned in thought, and after several seconds finally shook her head. “I believe you know everything I do. If I think of anything else...”
“Get in touch with somepony in the Guard, and word will eventually get back to me.” Not the most direct solution, but I didn’t want to do something foolhardy and give the possibly crazy pony my home address. Sure, I was ninety percent sure Octavia was perfectly sane, but that still meant there was a ten percent chance I might wake up one night to find her in my bedroom smearing cream cheese over me. Or whatever it is crazy ponies do.
“Very well then,” Octavia nodded, seeming quite satisfied with my answer. “I wish you the best of luck, lieutenant.”
“Thanks.” If Musette really was a muse and muses really were as dangerous as I’d heard, then I would probably need all the luck I could get.
The good news was I didn’t have any trouble getting backup. The bad news was the form my backup had come in. Since this had started off as me doing a favor for Mom, it seemed reasonable to let her know what was going on and that I wanted a few extra hooves available just in case Musette was a problem. Which had led to...
“Mom, I can handle arresting a single fey without you holding my hoof.”
“Of course you can, dear,” Mom murmured, giving me a reassuring pat on the back. “But really, it’s better if we don’t involve anypony else in what is still a private family matter. We wouldn’t want to drag a bunch of guardponies into this only for Musette to be innocent. And if she really is a muse, it’s much better for Vinyl if we take care of the problem ... off the record, as it were. Her music career would almost certainly run into complications if word got out that she’s been working under a muse’s influence.”
After taking a moment to think it over, I realized she had a point. If everypony found out Vinyl had been under Musette’s control, there’d be a lot of questions about the legitimacy of her work and how much of it came from her own talents. The actual creativity was all coming from Vinyl, but there would certainly be plenty of ponies who would use the situation as an excuse to attack her music and say she’d never really had any talent. That wasn’t how muses worked, but ponies never let a few inconvenient facts get in the way of a good scandal. So ... yeah, maybe it would be better to keep this quiet.
Still... “When I said I wanted backup, I was thinking maybe a squad of guardponies or something. Not ... er, you.”
Mom turned to me, slowly raising a single eyebrow. “Is there something wrong with me? Need I remind you that I was the Archmagus of the Eastern March for a decade?”
I shuffled uncomfortably, trying to come up with a diplomatic way to explain myself. “Well yeah, but that was a long time ago.”
Mom’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And what exactly are you saying, dear? That I’m too old and out of shape to handle myself in a sticky situation?”
Oh Celestia, age rage button. I had to smooth this over, and fast. “No no I'm not saying you're old! No! Nooooo, no. Nonono.” Despite my best efforts to control the damage, I could see a frown forming on her face. “You aren't old at all—in fact, you might be under … um … underold to be an Archmagus!”
I realized a second too late that I’d messed up. “So you think I’m too inexperienced for the job?”
Mare in the Moon, why do you do this to me? “No! You’re fine! Better than fine! You’re more experienced than anypony else. The college of magi voted for you in a landslide!”
Mom hummed to herself. “True… But experience only comes with time, and if I’m more experienced…” She tapped her chin, then (thank you, Celestia) changed the subject. Slightly. “Just because I retired from my post to focus on my research and have more time with family doesn’t mean all my skills have gone to rust. As the old saying goes, there’s no such thing as an ex-archmagus. How many times were Sunbeam and Midnight pulled out of retirement to deal with some new crisis?”
“I know, I know...” The last thing I needed was another family history lecture. I did the only thing I could to win (or at least survive) the discussion: “You’re right. Sorry.” I wasn’t even sure what she was right about, but she was definitely right about it.
Mom smiled and nodded, satisfied with my surrender. “Thank you, dear.” She paused, looking me over and frowning faintly, then pulling out a manebrush and ruthlessly assaulting my head with it. “And really, you should’ve taken care of this before we set out. We need to look properly official for this.”
“Moooom!” I groaned as she brushed out my mane like I was still an unruly little colt. “I can brush my own mane!”
“Of course you can, dear,” she murmured absently, finishing up her work and using her magic to straighten out my uniform. I started to fidget away from her until she shot me one of those warning glowers that told me I could either put up with her mothering or risk her displeasure. Since I wasn’t stupid, I behaved.
Once Mom was done tidying up my uniform, I was ready to face the potential killer monster. My life is weird sometimes.
Okay, all the time.
The plan itself was pretty simple. The trickiest part was keeping an eye on Vinyl and Musette’s apartment until the two of them split up. Mom and I both agreed that it would be better to confront Musette without Vinyl around. If Musette was innocent, it would lead to a lot more drama and hurt feelings—and if she really was a fey, she almost certainly had some kind of mental hold over Vinyl. Fortunately, even mind-controlled musicians still need to go out grocery shopping, which left Musette all by herself in the apartment.
Mom kept out of sight and put some stealth spells over herself while I trotted up to the front door. Musette answered as soon as I knocked, giving me another one of her dazzling smiles. My guard was up, but I didn’t feel any supernatural fey magic trying to get into my head. Just ordinary pretty mare magic. “Hello again, Shining. I saw you talking to our little problem mare last night. Did you get rid of her?”
“She shouldn’t be bothering you again,” I assured her, and despite the circumstances I couldn’t help grinning and puffing my chest out a bit. “I talked with her and sorted everything out.”
“That’s wonderful!” She wrapped her forelegs around me in an enthusiastic hug, and for the next several seconds I completely forgot about the possibility that she might actually be a monster in pony form that fed off the life and creativity of her victims. In my defense, it felt very nice when she hugged me. Have I mentioned how pretty she was? Or how soft her coat was? Or the way she ... never mind.
After both far too long and not nearly long enough, I broke off the hug. She smiled at me in a way that made me uncomfortably aware of the fact that my mother was standing nearby and watching my every move. “I really am grateful for everything you’ve done for us, Shining. If there’s anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Despite some distinctly unwise thoughts about exactly what I should ask her for, I managed to remember why I was there. “Actually, I was wondering if you could answer a question for me. If it’s not too much trouble.”
She shot me a coy grin. “Just one question in exchange for all the trouble you went to protecting the two of us? That hardly seems like enough to express my gratitude, but if that’s what you want, we have a deal.”
A part of me was instantly suspicious when she started talking about deals, given the fey were notorious for that kind of bargaining. Of course, it could just be an innocent turn of phrase. No point in speculating though, I’d have the answer soon enough either way. “Alright. So, Musette ... are you a muse?”
I wasn’t sure what response I’d been expecting. Probably confusion if she was innocent, or panic if she was guilty. Instead of either of those, Musette chuckled and shook her head. “Amused? Not exactly, but I’m certainly relieved to not have that ... that horrible mare menacing Vinyl anymore. It’s quite a weight off my shoulders.”
I blinked and shook my head. “No, not amused. A muse.”
“A muse?” she repeated, her head tilting slightly to the side. “Well, Vinyl does always say that I’m her personal muse, yes. Though I think she’s giving me too much credit—all the creativity and artistic talent comes from her. I just give her a one-pony audience to test out new songs.”
I was paranoid enough to realize that she hadn’t exactly answered my question. Not directly, at least. That’s the thing about fey: they can’t outright lie to you, but they can certainly dodge, deflect, or give you an answer that’s technically true but creates a false impression. Her not directly answering the question once could’ve been her simply mishearing me, but two dodges in a row was pretty suspicious. My eyes narrowed, and my tone turned serious. “Musette, are you a muse? Yes or no.”
Her eyes widened and she took half a step back from me. “Sh-Shining! What’s gotten into you? It’s her fault, isn’t it? Did she plant some crazy idea in your head? A delusional fantasy about me being some sort of supernatural monster who she has to rescue Vinyl from? Surely you realize that’s the exact sort of story a crazy pony like her might conjure up to justify her actions. You can’t be taking her seriously, can you?”
“I’m not sure what I think,” I answered levelly. “But back at West Hoof, one of the lessons the SIs drilled into my head was to never assume or rule out anything. I’m not saying I buy what Octavia’s selling, but I want a straight answer just to make sure I can rule it out. So, by the terms of our agreement answer my question: are you a muse? Yes, or no?”
“Damn.” An instant after she hissed that under my breath, a wave of pure lust hammered into my brain. I recognized the sensation from when I first met her, but at the time I’d dismissed it as the normal reaction to meeting a pretty girl who was flirting with me. Now I recognized it for what it was: fey magic. “Yes, I am a muse.”
While Musette’s glamour had a fair bit of muscle behind it, she never stood a chance. Fey magic isn’t really suited to the brute-force approach, and I’d already managed to resist her spells when I hadn’t even realized she was trying to get into my head. Now that I was expecting and prepared for the attack, all I needed was to close my eyes and take a few deep breaths to shake off her influence. Though her glamour did have one slight side effect that caused me to hastily tuck my tail down, hopefully before anypony saw the ... problem.
Musette grimaced and took a few steps back. “I suspected that wouldn’t work, but you can’t blame a girl for trying.”
“Pretty sure I can,” I grunted out. “You’re under arrest for mentally assaulting a Guard officer. And I’m sure Vinyl will add a bunch more charges to the list once I have a chat with her.” I paused a moment, then casually added, “Oh, and you also filed a false guard report, but I think that’s the least of your worries.” I pulled out a set of cold iron hoofcuffs, which she immediately flinched away from. “Please don’t add resisting arrest to the list of charges.”
Musette’s ears went flat, and she slowly extended her forelegs. “Fine. I surrender.”
I blinked in surprise, then carefully reached over and put the cuffs on. To my surprise, she didn’t try some sort of clever trick to escape at the last second, though she did let out a pained hiss when the cold iron made contact with her coat. “Huh. I was kind of expecting ... I dunno. Octavia figured you’d do something like say ‘martial arts are technically art’ and start kicking my plot.”
Despite the circumstances, she managed a wry smile. “Sorry to disappoint, that’s really my sister’s field of interest. Well, one of my sisters. I’ve got eight of them. But ... yeah, unless you want to challenge me to a sing-off or poetry slam for my freedom... Maybe even a rap battle?”
“Think I’ll pass on that.”
“Can’t say I blame you.” She sighed and shrugged as best she could in her restraints. “Though as far as hauling me off to prison goes, can I ask you for a favor? No, wait, not a favor ... let’s make a deal.” She shot me a halfhearted smirk. “Now that you know what I am, I’m sure you realize that I’ll hold my end of it.”
“Right...” Fey did keep their bargains. Technically. “What do you want?”
“Vinyl doesn’t really need to know about all this, does she?” Musette stared up at me with sad eyes that reminded me of Twiley begging for a new book. “After all, think about what it could do to her confidence as an artist if she realizes I was inspiring her all this time. Besides...” Her eyes flicked down to the floor. “I’d ... I’d rather she didn’t know, is all.”
I cocked my head to the side as a rather strange thought sprang into my head. “Wait ... do you actually care what she thinks about you?”
She sighed and shrugged. “I suppose we did get a bit close. We have been living together for several months, and she’s pleasant company.”
“Right...” Though a part of me also couldn’t help but think that if Vinyl never found out about Musette, she wouldn’t be pressing charges for all of Musette’s crimes. “You said you were offering me a deal. So what do I get out of it?”
“Oh, I’ll release Vinyl from the bargain she made with me.” A faint smile flicked across her face. “It was about a month ago. I suspect she’d had a few too many ciders, and she was discussing the works of D3ad H0r53. She said, and I quote, ‘I would die to be as good as he is.’ I’m sure you can guess at the terms of our agreement. Rather ironic, given the artist she admired.”
I choked on the air as her words sank in. “Wh-what? You made a deal to kill her?! I thought you were her friend!”
“I am,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Vinyl’s a lovely mare, and I really did enjoy spending time with her and getting to know her better. But a deal’s a deal, darling—arresting me won’t change the terms of our agreement, or her own requirement to ... provide what I am owed. So, keep my secrets from her. And everypony else too, of course. Because if you were to report this to anypony, word might get back to her.”
I stepped forward, a threatening growl entering my voice. “So either I let you go, or you kill Vinyl? Horseapples. If you were really her friend you wouldn’t do that.”
Musette sighed and rolled her eyes. “Ponies. You have such odd notions. I’m not doing anything to her but following the agreement we made. It’s not my fault she offered such unwise terms. It’s not like I even want to follow through on it. At least, not anymore.”
“So don’t.”
Musette looked at me as though I’d suggested that she grow a second head. “Not follow through on a bargain I’ve made? That’s ... that’s not how it works. Don’t you know anything about fey?”
“Right...” I sighed and ran a hoof down my face. Fey had a bunch of weird compulsions when it came to making deals. Musette had to follow through on any deal she made, regardless of her personal feelings. Sure, she could abuse loopholes or twist words, but she couldn’t just flat out break the agreement. And while I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, I also suspected she couldn’t give her claim away for nothing. Whatever compelled the fey to make deals probably also required them to make deals that paid off for them. Even if she didn’t want to keep her bargain with Vinyl, she’d have to trade it away for something of equal or better value.
So, what could I offer her that was worth Vinyl’s life? Letting her lie to Vinyl and get away with all her crimes didn’t sit right with me, but I suppose if all else failed I could take that. Or perhaps... “I don’t suppose your deal with her specified when she would die, did it?”
“No, other than allowing her to achieve her own goals first.” She shot me a rather bitter smile. “Let me guess: you’re going to suggest I use that to kill her when she’s old, decrepit, and three seconds away from dying of natural causes? Sweetie, I was playing the loophole game when your ancestors were common glassmakers who could never even dream that they’d become nobles or mages. Of course I thought of that. But ... well, I’m sure you know what Equestria’s laws say about that kind of thing.”
I grimaced and nodded. As far as the law was concerned, murder was murder regardless of the timing. Even if Musette waited until seconds before Vinyl would die of natural causes, she’d still be the one who did the killing. And if Musette was actually growing a conscience, she’d probably still feel just as guilty regardless.
“I see your point,” I reluctantly admitted. “However, let’s say you go with that anyway. So, the bargain you made is really just for three seconds of Vinyl’s life, if you think about it. How much is three seconds of Vinyl’s life worth?”
“Not bad, Shining.” A faint smile crossed her lips, but a second later she tsked and shook her head. “Of course, it’s not really that easy. I could just as well claim my due tomorrow and gain far more of her lifetime. Sorry, but you’ll have to do better than that.”
I tried a different angle. “But if you really don’t want to kill her, then it’s not a very good deal for you, is it? That sounds like cause to renegotiate it, because right now nobody’s very happy with the arrangement.”
“There are many who would say that a deal which makes nobody completely happy is actually a sign of a compromise,” Musette countered. “But yes, I would be open to renegotiation so long as I receive something of equal or greater value than Vinyl’s life. And I assure you, regardless of my personal feelings it has very high value.”
I tapped my chin thoughtfully. “We could always just lock you up for the rest of Vinyl’s life.”
“If I am incapable of fulfilling the terms of our agreement, it would fall to my sisters to provide the services and collect my payment,” Musette countered. “And yes, that would include the one who has an interest in the combat arts. That might get messy. And if somehow you manage to stop them, you don’t even want to know whom we’re beholden to.”
A particularly intriguing idea sprang into my mind. “Well, I guess there’s nothing for it, then. It looks like we’ll have to make a fair trade, and the only thing worth a life is another life, right?” When Musette agreed, I sighed. “Alright then, I’ll make that trade.”
Mom dropped her stealth spell. “Shining! What are you thinking?!”
“Now now,” Musette chided, surprisingly unperturbed at her sudden appearance. “This is between the two of us. It’s rude to interrupt.”
“Relax, Mom.” I took a deep breath and solemnly nodded. “I know what I’m doing. And don’t worry, I’m not going to sacrifice myself. It’s gonna be somepony else: Sir Noble Braveheart, a high-ranking Knight Palatine in the Order of Sol Invictus. One of the mightiest and purest soldiers in all the world. Surely he’s worth more than a DJ?”
“Shining!” Mom gasped out, horrified. “You can’t just ... just sell somepony to a fey in Vinyl’s place! It’s wrong!”
“I know what I’m doing.” I repeated to her. “And it’s between Musette and me.”
Musette thought it over for a second, then nodded. “Agreed. Vinyl for the knight.”
I shook her hoof. Now all that was left was arranging the sacrifice.
