One piece at a time.

Part A takes a few minutes to piece together, but you eventually deduce that the smallest party that fits the familial description is a family of seven ponies: a married couple, the husband’s parents, and their three children, two fillies and a colt. Including one for yourself, you’d need eight place settings.

Part B requires a bit of thinking. If you have less than the average number of coins, then you’d have to bring the average down. Sixty bits averaged between three friends is twenty apiece, and if you had three less than the average, then that’s the same as taking one bit away from each of the three friends. Therefore, the average between the four of you is nineteen bits, and you have sixteen in your pocket.

Part C is tricky, but after some thinking, you notice that seven left eyes and seven right eyes are specifically mentioned in the riddle. At minimum, there are seven ponies in the room: three totally blind, two blind in the right eye, one blind in the left, and one sighted in both.

Part D is simple, only requiring a bit of algebraic math. If you replace the pineapple with one apple and six bananas, then that means that ten bananas is the same as six bananas plus four apples, which means that bananas weigh the same as apples. Therefore, one pineapple is equal to seven bananas.

Finally, the last part of the riddle. It takes you only a minute to deduce the only order that makes sense: CBDA.

Seven-sixteen-seven-eight.

You slowly look up at the door. Beyond it is the machine that controls the village, and a madpony that will happily kill you so that he may live forever. One step at a time, you approach the wooden door and push at the latch. With a quiet clatter and a squeak, the door opens a crack.

You hesitate. A force seems to be pushing you away from the threshold; your throat dries out and you feel your breathing accelerate; your lungs burn as if struggling to extract the air.

As if on its own, your hoof reaches into your coat pocket and extracts the Pinnacle Club pin. You turn the little silver decoration over in your grasp. The spark winks at you like a miniature, twinkling star.

You have to do this. For Idea Spark. For Sunrise Glow. And for everypony else that has suffered at the Court’s hooves. You swallow, take a deep breath, and pocket the pin.

“If I survive this, I don’t care if I get nothing but insurance fraud cases for the rest of my career,” you mutter to yourself, pushing through the invisible barrier of your own fear and opening the door slowly.

The hallway is dark and empty. You shiver in the cold as you walk back down your path, dust rising with every step.

The locked door is just ahead. As you approach, the pain pierces into your skull, and the whispering voices start up again, hissing and buzzing in your ears. Pushing through the effects, you kneel at the combination lock and enter in the numbers: 71678.

The door unlocks, and you push it open to reveal a set of stone stairs leading downwards. Instantly, the pain increases tenfold and the whispering increases in intensity and volume, causing you to stagger. Breathing heavily, you battle your way down the stairs, one step at a time until you reach the bottom. A cord dangling from the ceiling strikes in the face, and you reach up and tug it.

A light snaps on over your head, and you behold the mind machine. A tangled mass of pipes runs through the entire room and out of the ceiling and walls, running through the entire house. Hisses and gurgles resound from within the steel spider’s web. You follow the pathway of pipes deeper and deeper into the room. The whispering continues incessantly, dozens of voices piling on top of one another and climbing through your ears directly into your brain, as if trying to warn you away.

The pipes all converge upon what looks like a big furnace. Several hoses are plugged into the big, black, metal vat. Through a grille set in the front, you can see several glowing silvery-white rocks, suspended in a pale yellow field.

Pain stabs through your skull again, but you force yourself to approach. You try to open the grille to access the sirenium, but the metal is too hot to even touch; you almost scald your hoof just reaching out to it.

Your gaze turns to the hoses plugged into the furnace. They lead to what looks like a large tank of water. Perhaps they’re a coolant of some kind?

You bite down on one of the hoses and pull. It refuses to give for a moment, then bursts out of the tank. Hot water streams from the hose, splashing onto you and causing you to drop the hose with a yelp of pain. In a sudden frenzy, you yank out the rest of the hoses, not even caring as you splash yourselves with the scalding liquid that rapidly pools onto the stone floor.

The effect is almost immediate: steam begins to billow from the furnace and pipes, and a great rattling shivers throughout the entire monstrosity. The pain penetrating your skull instantly vanishes, and the whispering voices cease.

Suddenly, there is a great explosion from somewhere behind you, and you turn to see the glow of flames from down the hallway.

“Oops,” you mutter, and turn and run up the hallway. More explosions chase after you as you hurry down the hallway and back up the stairs. As soon as you close the door behind you, a great explosion rumbles throughout the entire mansion, knocking you to your hooves and sending dust cascading from the ceiling.

Time to go! You scramble back to your hooves and start to run away, hoping to get out of the house before it all collapses on your head.

Suddenly, something seizes you around the throat. The force lifts you off the ground, kicking and struggling, and throws you down the hallway. You go skidding into the great room where Blackfeather Quill sat with his great machine.

“What did you do?!” Turtledove screams, her horn alight and her eyes blazing with hatred as she lifts you off the ground by your throat. “You little bastard! What did you do?!”

“Destroy them, Turtledove!” Quill rasps from his chair.

You struggle in midair, kicking and choking as her magical grip tightens about your windpipe. More explosions, increasing in intensity and frequency, rumble through the mansion, but the sound seems to be fading. Darkness creeps in on the edges of your vision, and your thudding heartbeat resounds in your pounding head.

Suddenly, the entire ceiling shakes and flaming debris falls from above. It lands on the life-extending machine, which explodes in a mass of sparks like a small fireworks display. Blackfeather lets out a long, terrible scream of pain.

“Grandfather!” Turtledove wails in despair, dropping you and rushing to her ancestor’s side. You sit up, coughing and rubbing your throat as smoke invades your lungs.

“Turtledove,” Blackfeather wheezes, his entire body trembling. “You must leave. Save yourself.”

“No!” Turtledove cries. “Grandfather, I won’t—”

“You must survive!” Blackfeather interrupts her. He slowly reaches up and, with what seems to be a great effort, strokes her cheek. “I love you, child. Now run.”

Turtledove slowly rises and turns to glare at you, furious tears leaking from her eyes. “This is not over, detective,” she vows, before turning tail and racing out of the room.

Another boom resounds from the mansion, and more debris falls from the ceiling. The flames roar higher, and the heat and smoke is becoming suffocating. You rise back to your hooves, panting and coughing, and turn for the door.

“Remember this, detective!” Blackfeather calls as you stagger for the exit, cursing you with his final breaths. “Remember that you were the cause of this!”

A howl of mingled fury and agony chases you out as you force yourself to run, hurrying back the way you came. The building shakes with explosions as you race for safety: flames race across the walls, licking at your tail as if pursuing you.

You reach the main doors and burst through them just the entire building rumbles with a final explosion. Collapsing to the ground from fatigue, you look up to see the Blackfeather mansion in flames, glowing against the night sky as it collapses in upon itself. The ravens on the doors remain, glaring down at you with a final curse.

You struggle back to your hooves and try to stagger back to your bike, which is still waiting faithfully to carry you away. Your body aches from the beating and burns, and your lungs convulse as they struggle for air. You try to climb onto your bike, but your legs refuse, too exhausted to lift your weight. You attempt once more, then collapse to the ground, your head spinning.

The last thing you see before you pass out is the vague shape of a pony bending over you.

A familiar scent tantalizes your nostrils: fresh, black coffee. The odor pulls you back into the waking world, and you open your eyes.

To your surprise, you are laying on a bed in a room at the Sparrow’s Nest. You sit up with a start, only to grunt in pain as your entire body protests all at once. You examine yourself to find that somepony has bandaged your torso, limbs and head. Sunshine streams into the room from the window behind you.

“Hello, detective,” a soft voice calls from the door. You look up to find Honey Roll entering the room, holding up a tray in a magical grasp. Sitting on the tray is a large cup of coffee and a plate loaded with steaming toast, scrambled eggs, and a couple of ibuprofen.

“What happened?” you ask, shaking your aching head.

“When you didn’t come back, I realized the Court must have taken you,” Honey explains, placing the tray on the bed in front of you. “I was trying to think of what to do when Sunrise Glow approached me.”

“Detective,” a familiar voice calls from the door. Sunrise Glow slowly enters the room. You almost don’t recognize him: his movements are smooth, his eyes are bright and alert, and a grateful smile is held on his face.

“He told me that he’d sent you to the mines,” Honey Roll explained. “I was going to go up to try to help, but then I heard the explosions from the mansion. I ran up and found you unconscious outside the burning mansion, and I loaded you up onto your bike and brought you here.”

Suddenly realizing how acutely hungry and thirsty you are, you dig into the provided breakfast. The food and coffee goes a long way towards reviving you, and the medicine relieves some of the pain.

“How did you know to help me?” you ask Honey Roll.

Honey glances down for a moment, then continues without looking up. “I was a member of the Court for many years; I’d help Turtledove take care of Blackfeather Quill, bring him food and help clean up, as well as spy on anypony that came into town. I didn’t want to, but Hawkdive intimidated me into doing what they said.

“When Idea Spark came into town, he treated me kindly. We became friends. And when Turtledove locked him in the mansion, I helped take care of him, bringing him food.

“He said he was going to try to stop Blackfeather Quill. I offered to help, but he told me no. He said that somepony might come after him, somepony honest who would help. He told me that he needed me to help them.” She blinks and wipes her eyes. “I waited days for you to come. I hoped that you’d be the one to finally stop the Court.”

“And you did,” Sunrise adds. “After you destroyed the machine, Hawkdive and the other members of the Court in town—the librarian, the factory manager, and many others—they all ran for it. They won’t be back. The Court is done; and thanks to you, I can think clearly for the first time in years. I don’t have the whispering in my head anymore.” He smiles and gratefully clasps your hoof. “Thank you, detective.”

His words of thanks fail to register within you. You slowly look down at your breakfast, thinking about Blackfeather Quill’s last moments, his final curse towards you, his accusation of your responsibility.

“Where’s my coat?” you ask.

“Hanging up here,” Honey Roll says, plucking your coat down from the bedpost.

You reach into the pocket and extract the Pinnacle Club pin. Honey Roll and Sunrise Glow’s eyes fix on the little decoration, their faces reflecting each other’s grief.

“I need to get back to Chicoltgo,” you declare.

You’d never been so glad to be back in your office. From out the twelfth-story window, the familiar Chicoltgo skyline, glowing orange in the aura of sunset, is like an old friend.

A constant music of clicking and dinging fills your office as you type out your report on your typewriter. Reaching a stopping point, you pause to stretch, rubbing your stiff neck.

Looking over your own report, you realize just how fantastic and unbelievable your story seems. If you’d heard it from somepony else, you might laugh it off as the premise for some trashy thriller novel.

Yet it happened. The testimonies of Honey Roll and Sunrise Glow, as well as your bandaged injuries, will go towards proving that.

There is a knock at your door and you look up to see Open Case there. “Hey, rookie, Wind Walker is here.”

You sigh and take in a slow breath. A steaming cup of coffee sits waiting on the table in front of you. “Thanks, Open. Send her in.”

“Rookie?” Open says softly. He manages to smile as you look up at him. “Good to have you back safely.”

“Thanks, Open,” you smile gratefully in reply.

Open steps aside and Wind Walker enters your office with a slow, frightful step. She looks exhausted, as though she’s barely gotten any sleep.

“Mrs. Walker,” you greet her, rising. “Please take a seat.”

She slowly approaches your desk and sits down on the chair in front of you. “Did you find my husband?” she asks, sounding as though she doesn’t really want to hear the answer.

You swallow and have to fight against yourself not to break eye contact. You reach into a drawer and pull out the Pinnacle Club pin, carefully handing it over to Wind Walker. Her eyes widen as soon as she says the familiar piece, but her face settles like one who has just received the news that they were expecting.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her softly. “Your husband was long dead by the time I got there. He was killed by a group that he got involved in.”

Wind Walker just sits in silence for a few seconds, staring at her husband’s pin. “Tell me what happened,” she finally declares in a quiet, but determined voice.

You tell her the condensed story of the Court of Ravens, Blackfeather Quill’s machine, and how you uncovered and defeated them. Wind Walker listens, never interrupting or reacting beyond asking an occasional question. When you finish, she just sits and stares at the pin.

“I’m truly sorry, Mrs. Walker,” you say.

Wind Walker stands up, a few tired tears trickling down her face. “It’s not your fault, detective. Thank you for finding out what happened to him.”

She reaches out and places the pin back on your desk. You blink in surprise. “Ma’am, I can’t—” you start to protest.

“No, you keep it,” Wind insists quietly. “He’d...he’d have wanted you to have it; he always said he wanted to give it to somepony that deserved it. Anyway, you probably deserve it for solving this case,” she adds with a smile. “Idea always said that whenever he was stuck or unsure, he would just hold the pin for a while, and that would inspire him to get back to work and solve whatever problem he was facing. I hope that maybe it could do the same for you.”

“Are you sure?” you ask.

Wind nods and wipes her eyes with a wing. You slowly take the pin back.

“If you need anything, let me know,” you say.

“I know,” Wind says. She lifts a bag out of her saddlebag and drops a few bits and two colored gems onto your desk. Accepting the payment takes a great show of willpower on your part. Wind leans in and gives you a thankful kiss on the forehead. “Thank you for everything, detective.” With a final smile, she turns and departs your office.

You look down at the Pinnacle Club pin, then reverently clip it onto your coat. The little spark seems to dance in the low light of the sunset, winking at you.

You study the little decoration for a moment, then turn back to your typewriter. Sliding the carriage back and turning it to the next line, you start typing the conclusion of your report.

Blackfeather Quill is certainly dead after the destruction of his machine and his mansion. Honey Roll has elected to remain in Raven Hollow to aid responding Chicoltgo City Guards with their investigation, including the finding and identification of the remains of the ponies that were murdered by the Court. Sunrise Glow has been taken to the city of Chicoltgo for treatment of lingering psychological symptoms.

The following ponies, all of whom are members of the Court of Ravens, were unaccounted for. The City Guards of Chicoltgo and surrounding cities should be warned to be on the lookout for them, as they are all very dangerous: Feather Page, Assembly Line, Hawkdive, and Turtledove.

Finishing the report, you tug the paper out of the typewriter and stack if with the rest of your report. Stapling the entire bundle together, you lean back into your chair with a sigh, rubbing your eyes.

“Hey, rookie!” Open Case calls from outside. “Five letter word for disciplinary!”

“Penal,” you shout back.

“Thanks!” Open replies. “Hey, think you could give me a hoof with this?”

“Put a fresh pot on, and you’ve got a deal,” you reply, getting out of your chair and exiting your office.

As you walk out, you fail to notice a bird flapping down to land upon your window ledge. A raven, its coat as dark as midnight and eyes like black pearls, stares into your room, watching you as you close the door behind you.

THE END…?

Author's Note

Case Closed at last, and right on schedule. But what of the Court? It's still out there...

Congratulations to The Villain in Glasses, themouthofmush, Magic Step, and Everfree Pony for solving this and every riddle in the story! I hope that you all enjoyed Raven Hollow! This was a greater success than I anticipated it would be, and am pleased at the positive attention that I received.

A sequel may come one day, so stay tuned, and keep that pencil and scrap paper ready. You never know when a puzzle might come!