King of Diamonds

Chapters

Hoofsteps Through History
Special Delivery
Gifts and Lessons
Growing Pains
Time Enough For Love
Journey's Call
What Lies Before
There and Back Again
Making Tracks
A Change of Perspective
Hearth and Home - Part 2
Take Flight
What Lies Within
Alea Iacta Est
The Darkness Under the Hill
Songs of the Dead
Ad Astra Per Aspera
Tooth & Claw - Part I
Tooth & Claw - Part II
Skidoo
A Roc and a Hard Place - Part 1
Shadows on the Ice
The Halls of the Ice King
Worlds Beyond
Hearth and Home - Part 1
A Roc And A Hard Place - Part 2
Under a Starry Sky

Hoofsteps Through History

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds

The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
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Chapter 2
Hoofsteps Through History
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

The dragon lay sleeping as the pony watched. He was tired from his ordeal and had curled up, nestled in her forehooves. Faint snores could be heard.

"Shimmer my love, is this the right thing to do?" Rainy asked his mate. Thunder rolled in the distance and both looked apprehensively at the sky. The river had burst in and was now wending a new path through the once-dry cave. Two small piles of eggshells lay carefully out of reach of the cold waters; one was small, the other was very small.

Shimmer smiled, flicking her husband with her tail, "What would you have us do, dear? We cannot run, even if I would leave little Sharptooth here to the elements, which I won't. That dragon owns us, just as surely as if we'd pledged our lives to him. And we have his offspring, at least I think this hatchling is his."

"I meant, silly mare, heading back to civilisation with a dragon in tow. Who knows what that creature will get up to! He could end up killing us all!"

Shimmer swatted her husband again, who jumped out of range of her tail, sticking a tongue out. "He won't, don't be silly. Dragons aren't vicious beasts." The unicorn mare eyed the devastation, and added, "Not all of them."

The beating of heavy, bat-like wings drove them to silence. The thump as the black dragon landed not far off spread ripples even in the trickling stream. A snout peered into the hollow, hot breath bathing the trio in sulphuric fumes. "Good evening, ponies. I thank you for your diligence. But one task remains before we may leave: you will place the eggshells into these chests." The dragon didn't even blink as two small chests appeared in the middle of the scooped-out cave with a bright flash of magic.

With a questioning look on her muzzle, Shimmer exerted her magic and collected the two piles, depositing them as asked. Rainy pushed the tops closed with a hoof. There was no visible lock, but they snapped shut with a finality that informed they would not soon open again.

Nodding, the black dragon stepped cleanly over the top of the blasted cave and circled downstream. The chests disappeared from whence they came, and the dragon beckoned to the ponies. "Come. You have fulfilled your part of the bargain, it is time I fulfilled mine."

"What do we call you, Lord? I mean," Rainy hesitated, "we can keep calling you 'sir', but..."

"Onyxious will suffice, and I am no dragon lord. I have no patience for such petty titles. We will travel by land where possible, air when not. It will be many days to the nearest settlement, which will give me time to properly instruct you. Come."

"Instruct us? A-and... my mate is ill. Diamond dog poison. She can't-"

"Hush, Rainy, I'm perfectly well able to-!"

Onyxious rolled his eyes, "And here I was informed that ponies will gladly ask for help."

"From ponies." Shimmer glared at the dragon, who chuckled.

"Point." The dragon breathed in, and then let out his breath in a long slow stream. It passed over the two ponies in a warm breeze that felt warm and comforting. Little Sharptooth twitched, dreaming, and Shimmer nuzzled him before getting to her hooves in a sudden burst of energy.

"Oh, oh my, sir, Onyxious..."

"It is nothing you would not do for me were you able, is that not so?"

Shimmer blushed and looked down, "Sir, you... scare us."

"But you would help?"

Shimmer lifted the sleeping Sharptooth into the air with a flick of her horn, placing him on her back. He didn't wake. "I would give my life for a friend, whatever the species."

The dragon nodded. "That is why we dragons uphold the Pax Equestrus, little one, even against our own kind. Not all dragons are as you see me. Some are wild and dangerous, caring little for thought and instead glorifying action and power."

"Why, what happens to them?"

"They usually grow out of it." Onyxious laughed, wiping his eyes with a claw. When he saw the bemused expressions of the ponies, he laughed even harder. He started walking, great wings folded. The ponies realized that was their cue, and quickly trotted to catch up.

"There are many sorts of dragons, more types than there are ponies, though the analogy is apt. Some dragons are small, smaller than you ponies even. Other dragons are larger, and these often go through a stage of maturation. They must choose, you see, lest the choice be made for them."

"Choose?" Rainy ran to catch up, trotting quickly to stare up at the great black dragon with the baleful red eyes.

"The magic of a dragon is wild and free, and to tame it requires an exercise of will. You ponies call it wild magic, appropriately enough. For some, it comes naturally. Their mind is strong and determined, and the magic becomes their tool. Others are..." the dragon paused momentarily, "weak is the wrong word. Taken by it. They become like beasts, all fury and want. Others master it, and become great and powerful in the ways of magic."

"Our legends tell of a time before Celestia and Luna, there was a... a great part-dragon monster called Discord. His powers are legendary, terrifying and immense." Shimmer's ears flattened against her skull as she spoke, hoping the dragon did not take offense.

Onyxious turned to look at the pony, and nodded. "Indeed. He mastered the wild magics like few before him. An Avatar like Discord is rare."

"An Avatar?"

"Patience, little ponies, I am getting ahead of myself. For the young dragon, a mere few centuries old, the temptation is there to revel in the baser aspects of their draconic heritage. Are we not powerful, bold, majestic and awe-inspiring?"

"Y-yes, sir!"

Onyxious laughed again, "Such self-pride leads to self-delusion. It is easy for the young of the larger broods to fall to the temptation to be one with their animal natures. As I said, they usually grow out of it in a few centuries. If not, then you ponies and griffons needs must be protected from them as best we can."

"S-so Sharptooth..."

"His fate is unknowable at this time." The black dragon strode onwards through the forest, shouldering aside trees and shattering boulders as necessary. The ponies were silent for a good long time, aware they had trod on shaky ground. Finally, Shimmer Star spoke up.

"Where are we going, Onyxious?"

"A small town with an interesting past. Tacksworn, I believe it is called."

♠♣♥♦

Spike kicked the rock with a hind foot. It bounced off the dusty ground a few times and then came to rest in the shade of a large building. "Stupid buttbreath ponies and their stupid dumb girlfriends." Spike picked the rock up, it was a local igneous feldspar. He chewed it resentfully and glared at the building. It was the town library.

Poking his head in, Spike immediately noticed that it had a certain look of being Twilighted, though gathering the kind of dust-up the town had been through the previous night, it was unlikely to be down to his lavender unicorn friend.

It was early afternoon, and the library was all but deserted. It had only one occupant, a small diamond dog who was lying prostrate on his stomach, kicking his hind legs in the air and poring over a comic book. At the sounds of the dragon's entrance, the diamond dog hurried to hide the comic under his belly.

"Wotcha got there?" Spike asked nonchalantly.

"Nuffin'," the dog-troll answered, suddenly finding his claws immensely interesting.

Spike peered closer, much to the embarrassment of the troll. He turned his head left and right, and then grinned widely. "Oh, wow! Daring Do! I have to hide mine under my blankie, Twilight thinks they're not 'educational enough'."

"Y-you like Daring Do?" The diamond dog looked up at the small purple dragon hopefully, before peering around the library in a conspiratorial fashion. Slowly, he pulled the comic out and straightened it.

"Yeah! I do. Name's Spike. I'm a dragon."

"Ruff!"

"No, it's pretty cool actually."

"I mean my name's Ruff! I love Daring Do, but... lots of diamond dogs think reading's silly. Especially about ponies."

"Pfft, ignore them. Daring Do's awesome! I'd love to go on an adventures like she does! Just a tip though, don't buy any couches. You can get in a lot of trouble for that."

"Couches?"

Spike nodded sagely, "It'll get you grounded for weeks!"

Ruff gasped, "I had no idea couches were such big deals."

"Tell me about it. It's always 'Spike, clean your room' or 'Spike, wash your claws before lunch' and 'Spike, don't you dare buy another couch'."

Ruff turned back to the beginning of the comic as Spike lay down next to him, "Does that happen often?"

"I hope not. Once was enough."

Kicking their legs in tandem, the two began to read together about the latest adventures of Daring Do.

♠♣♥♦

Tea; it had an aroma which Chip could only describe as 'comfortingly familiar'. The early afternoon sun was warm through the windows even though it was late in the year. It was part of the benefits of living in the desert. The fire was hot, the den cleaned, and the little cottage in the mountainside was finally in some semblance of peace. A pot of Sharptooth's favourite tea lay cooling on a little metal stand in the middle of the room. The table it would normally have stood upon had been destroyed in the fight the previous night. Most of the rest of the furniture had been returned to its usual locations. It would, however, take time for things to truly get back to normal. Sharptooth had apologetically informed Chip that Twilight Sparkle, the unicorn from Ponyville, had fled the house when she had first teleported them up. She had refused to re-enter until Sharptooth had finished cleaning up the worst of the previous night's struggle. Her nostrils were still flaring at the metallic odour of dried blood, but the aroma of tea and an open window was helping.

Chip had hurried home to check up on Sharptooth, and had found the dragon doing his best to be hospitable to Twilight, with the former being unable to open doors or lift things and the latter being more or less in the way as she tried to both help and see to the dragon's injuries.

Chip had arrived full of questions, but had been set to assisting. Chip now sat on his haunches, sipping at his cup experimentally. He had collected the tea leaves, added the water, and without a second thought had expended the last of his fire to boil the brew. Twilight's muzzle had drained of colour, not quite able to come to terms with a pony-shaped dragon, and he could tell she was bursting with questions too. The first cup had gone to her. The second was gratefully accepted by Sharptooth, and the remains of the final cup was now cooling in front of Chip.

Sharptooth breathed in the vapours and sighed. He twirled the cup in his talons and took a sip. "You know," he called out suddenly, his voice loud in the confines of the room, "you don't have to hover around outside, Tia. Come in. I trust you've not been bothering my son's pets too much?"

Chip splayed his ears back and ducked. Celestia had thankfully been nowhere to be found as he made his way through Tacksworn, but having the monarch was hovering outside the front door made him nervous.

The door creaked open as it glowed slightly, and the regal alicorn walked stiffly in. She sniffed, "I would do no such thing. One does not bother. One teaches and enlightens."

"She has made her decision, your majesty. Tea?"

"Why does everybody assume I adore tea?" Celestia sat on the floor next to Twilight, still scowling. The lavender mare was doing her best not to choke.

"I believe it was one Celestia of Equestria a few hundred years ago who persuaded me to take up the custom. Since then, I have discovered that it is prevalent amongst my own kind. Sit, share a cup. We have much to talk about."

After fetching another cup and pouring it out for the princess, Chip excused himself and fetched more red cushions for their new guest. Returning to the circle, he rolled his eyes when he spied another mare hesitantly peering in the window. "Hairpin?" he called, exasperated. "Come in. What in Equestria are you doing outside?" Chip held the door open, pointing with his hoof at the fireplace and scowling.

Hairpin ducked in and slinked over to the fire. "I don't think Celestia likes me very much," the pony whispered, "she asked me to escort her to your home and gave me a lecture on freedom and responsibility."

"Well," Chip rubbed his head awkwardly with a hoof. "What are you so upset about? Has she been mean to you?"

Hairpin shook her head, "N-no, she's just..."

"You've stared down dragons, you charged into a train that fell off a viaduct and you teased Pig Iron mercilessly. Why would-"

"I do not appreciate being talked about as if I'm not here," Celestia snorted loudly, standing. "What is it you've done to make that poor pegasus so flighty?"

Chip turned to stare at Celestia. "Nothing!"

"Then why-"

"It is because, my dear Celestia, you are doing that thing again where you positively exude annoyance. You're scaring the poor girl."

Celestia sniffed, "I don't seem to be scaring your foal, why would I scare a fully grown-"

"It is because Chip is a dragon, my dear." Sharptooth interjected, raising a claw and placing it lightly upon the princess' withers. "Hairpin Turn there is a fine young specimen of a mare and you are scaring her witless. Please, let us be cordial in my home."

Celestia sat down again, easing herself onto the red cushions. She sighed as she contemplated the designs on the cup and sauer. "You are quite correct. I am just... incensed. I have sought for centuries to have such practices eradicated, and now I find your own son is enslaving his family, collecting pets and amassing an army. You must admit," the monarch chuckled, covering her muzzle with a wing, "at first glance it is rather preposterous."

Sharptooth laughed too, "We do have plenty to sort out, it could have been a major diplomatic incident if not for the actions of my son."

Celestia face-hoofed, "As if it isn't a big enough one as it is thanks to the lad."

Chip cleared his throat and stepped closer, his hooves echoing dully on the exposed rock floor of the living room, "Princess Celestia? Your highness, I-I'm worried..."

"What is it, Chip?" Celestia looked over at the foal, her expression neutral but sliding towards compassion. Whatever it was, something was bothering the child.

"A-all of this, your highness. Do you know what it's about? I mean I know it's about... some map, but to what? If it's not their home realm, I don't understand what it could be."

"Well I have my suspicions, young Lordling. Are you telling me that this business is not ended, not even with the death of the main conspirator?"

Chip furrowed his brow as he sat up straighter, "Swiftwing was after something. He thought he had found it, but when I showed it to him..."

"The map from the school, you mean." stated Sharptooth levelly. Chip nodded. "Remember, Celestia? When I set off to map the world? Ah, the arrogance of youth."

"Oh, my. That map, the one my cartographers are always on about me 'reclaiming' for the honour of Equestria?" The alicorn princess snorted, laughing into her cup.

"Indeed. Do you not teach them who made that map?"

Celestia chuckled, "I tell them it was one of the original teachers in my School for Gifted Unicorns, a son of the famed Shimmer Star. I leave out the part about your unique heredity."

Sharptooth scowled, but the alicorn grinned. "If I should tell them you are not only a dragon, but are therefore still alive, they would work out where it was eventually, and then petition you directly. I can arrange for that, if you would like."

"Touche, princess. The question still stands, though. If the Tacksworn map is not what Swiftwing sought, then what was it? Somebody thought it important enough to kill over... many thought it important enough to kill over."

"The one person who could have told us," Celestia drained her cup, "lies dead. I suggest you let his quest die with him." The cup floated to the ground, making barely the slightest noise as it was placed delicately upon the saucer.

"I only hope it stays dead, your highness, but seeing as whatever they seek is roughly as ancient as I am, then I fear my son is correct. We may yet hear of it again. Swiftwing spoke of power enough to enslave a nation, perhaps the entire realm. Mere rumours seem too insubstantial to cause such a commotion."

Celestia paused, "The last pony to threaten my rule with such speech was my sister, Luna. That was no idle threat, and Equestria paid for our familial dispute rather heavily. I spent a good few centuries stamping out those who would blindly follow the harsh words of my sister spoken in the heat of the moment.

"I am not surprised that some ancient tales - whatever their source - could open old wounds, but I am pleasantly surprised that the Pact was honoured so swiftly and without delay."

Sharptooth grinned at that, "No mere squabble amongst siblings could break the bond of the Draconic Hegemony, dear Tia, nor will time wear it away. Dragons will fight for what they believe in, and you know well the fate of those who would cross us."

Celestia sniffed, "You speak of war and strife so callously."

"It was our way, back then. You ponies have tempered our mettle some since those days, but you do not change a civilisation such as Leviathania overnight."

"Quite. Dealing with dragons has often given me a headache, but not quite so many as recently. Speaking of such, If we can agree on your paying the bill from Donut Joe's, then-"

"Now see here, Celestia. My son is in need of a suitable bed, and that sofa-" Sharptooth waggled a claw, glaring at the alicorn.

"Is not a bed," Celestia retorted, glaring straight back.

"I fail to see why I should be left with a bill, and your student gets a sofa she doesn't need in her already-lushly furnished library. Full of books donated by the state, I hasten to add."

Celestia scowled, "A sofa? We would come to harsh words over a sofa?"

"I am not the one withholding property of the Draconic Hegemony."

"A sofa," Celestia raised an eyebrow, delicately.

"The Comfortable Reclining Seat of the Lord of the Sapphire Reaches, yes."

"Now see here-"

Chip got up, troubled, as Celestia and Sharptooth began to argue in their strangely amiable fashion. He wandered to the kitchen to make an afternoon snack, not entirely sure what was left in the pantry but figuring the motion and task might get his thoughts moving too. Hairpin followed him, eager to get away from the arguing couple.

"Pin?" Chip called as he rummaged around, his ears perking up at her hoofsteps.

"Yes, master?"

Chip snorted, "Just call me Chip."

"Sorry master."

Chip rolled his eyes and backed out of the walk-in pantry with a collection of edibles on a tray. He put them down on the counter and eyed them suspiciously. "Pin, I'm not sure if you can eat any of these." Chip sighed. "I think we might have to go back to town. Things are a lot easier when dad can fly."

"I could fly you, I think, if you don't mind riding on my back again. But that's not what's bothering you, is it?" The mare stretched her neck out, nuzzling Chip's mane out of his eyes.

Chip shook his head, "No, no it isn't. Dad and Celestia think it's all over..."

"Isn't it?" Hairpin asked, one eye-ridge rising.

"I don't know!" Chip paced around the kitchen. Built for a dragon, it was more than spacious enough for the pair of them. "I mean, Swiftwing was after this map... only it wasn't the map he thought it was, but there's something strange about it anyway, and Dad made it years ago, and what if it is to do with that map? What if it's big enough to break this... this 'Pax Equestrus' they're talking about? I mean you worked for Pig Iron, do you have any ideas?"

"Why would he know about this?"

Chip shrugged, "Lots of dragons come through his place, you worked for him-"

"I wasn't working in the bar, I mostly deliver stuff."

"Like what?" Chip lifted his head, muzzle full of rock-shards. He chewed them noisily, oblivious.

"I... don't know. I never asked. Not my place." Hairpin took a bite out of a bowl of something that smelled like dried fruits. Much to her relief, that's what it seemed to be. "Not sure what a dragon could offer a diamond dog though. They usually hate each other."

Chip looked up from devouring a rock-cake, "Huh?" he asked, spraying chips of rock as he spoke.

Hairpin giggled, wiping herself down, "Well, those diamond dogs aren't... slaves. I can tell you that. So, what did Swiftwing offer them?"

"Something... lost? Something that a map could lead the way to? If it's not their home realm, what is it?"

Hairpin shrugged, "Maybe if you could get to their home realm, you could find out?"

"Now that I have a map to! ...If it still exists, which dad says it doesn't. The Way there, I mean. Their realm does, I guess, but we can't get there." Chip stuck his tongue out, his overly complicated reasonings confusing him more than it did Hairpin.

"So you need to get to a place you can't get to, to find out about something you don't know about? That's deep, kid, real deep."

"I thought you were supposed to be on my side?" Chip flicked her with his tail. Hairpin laughed lightly and trotted across the delicately tiled floor.

"I'm sorry, master."

The sudden sound of hooves made them both turn, it was Twilight Sparkle as she trotted into the kitchen. She blushed at the attention. "Er, hi everypony! ...Oh, I mean one, everyone. Sorry, I keep forgetting."

Chip just shrugged, smiling, "Still getting used to it myself."

"So what are you all doing in here?" the unicorn asked brightly.

"Chip's thinking about a trip to a place he can't get to, to find out about something he doesn't know about." Hairpin grinned, dancing out of the way of Chip's tail-swat. "Do you know anything about diamond dogs, Miss Sparkle?"

Twilight tapped her muzzle with a hoof as Chip placed a wooden bowl of mixed grains on the counter in front of her, and filled a cup with water for the mare to drink. "Not much. They like gems, they can burrow through solid rock with incredible ease, and they usually like living underground. They live and work in packs, I think that's why Lord Sapphire managed to convince them to work for him. He must have dealt with the Pack Alphas. With his death, they'll either fall behind Chip, or... well, I'm not sure how dragon-diamond dog interrelations goes but you can't just undo a contract like that. There could theoretically be dominance fights, then again the diamond dog nations live by a relatively stringent hierarchical code-"

Chip's eyes glazed over as Twilight continued to speak. Hairpin interrupted her, "You're saying the diamond dogs will follow Chip, unless somepony replaces him?"

"Can't I just let them go? Or give them to Celestia?"

"Ohhh no, no, don't give them to Celestia. It'll lead to a declaration of war if you do that."

"War?" Chip almost choked on his rock-muffin, and had to be bucked in the side by Hairpin until he recovered.

"Oh yes, as ruler of Equestria, she is forbidden from exercising such ownership and control over any other nation under the Pact. This is true for all signatories to the Pax Equestrus. Haven't you been taught this in school? Never read The Foals Guide to the Collected Histories of Ancient Equestria? No? ...Just me then." Twilight looked eagerly from one muzzle to the other, and then sighed.

"You didn't get out much, did you?" Hairpin asked, giggling. Twilight just blushed.

"Great," Chip grumbled. "I'm stuck with them."

"Well... I guess you can just order them to act as they would without orders, if you can't just set them free, right?" Hairpin paused in chewing her wing. "What?"

"Would that work?" Chip raised an eye-ridge.

Twilight, mid-chew through a modest bowl of grains, almost spat the mouthful back out again. "That's... a remarkably clever idea."

Hairpin returned preening, in more ways than one, "Well, I do pride myself on thinking outside the box."

"Let's get back down to Tacksworn then, see how it works. It'll be one less problem to deal with. I'll ask dad about that map again first though. Celestia thinks I should let it drop."

"Shouldn't you?" Twilight asked. "Trust me, I know all about getting worked up over things that aren't worth it, and you do not want to see her angry."

"Already seen that," Chip said. "She doesn't approve of my choice of pets."

"So I gathered," Twilight replied. She eyed Hairpin, who grinned widely. "How does that work, anyway?"

"Show her your cutie-mark, Pin." Chip pointed with a hoof as the pegasus showed off her butt instead. "It's draconic magic. I told Celestia, and I'll tell you: I tried to set Pin free, but she wouldn't let me. So I own her."

"Fascinating! It's even changed her cutie-mark and everything! Oh I have to find out more about this-"

"Easy, Miss Sparkle. Look but don't touch. You've got to ask my owner first." Hairpin wriggled her backside in just the right way to cause both Chip and Twilight to blush.

"Pin, if you... would you like? I mean..." the draconic stallion cleared his throat, heat rising from his cheeks, "I'm not sure what you need to do, and... uh..." Chip found himself stammering and unable to answer.

"All expenses paid?" Hairpin fluttered her eyelids at Chip, who grimaced.

"I'm not sure what my allowance is..." Chip's heart sank.

"Oh, I'm sure I can put you up for a few days-"

"That's even worse!" Chip moaned, "I mean I'm still completely grounded over Donut Joe's! Not to mention the sofa! You're gonna get me in so much trouble!"

"I think I see why you like this 'pet' deal," Twilight giggled, "when you get in trouble, he pays for it. Don't worry kid, it'll all work out. I mean, Spike's destroyed most of Ponyville more than once. And then there was that time I started a riot over my old Smarty Pants doll... or that time when I accidentally released a hound of Tartarus..."

"You?" Hairpin asked, smiling, as she and Twilight trotted out of the kitchen together, "Starting a riot? I like your style. Tell me more!"

Chip followed gloomily. "I'm doomed! Doomed!"

Sharptooth eyed Chip as the dragon reclined in his easy chair. He stretched his one good wing and idly scratched at the eyepatch. "I have to agree, Celestia, the boy has a point. I don't want to stir up more trouble, but perhaps we should keep an eye out. Your pupil has that excellently stocked library, she can surely research diamond dogs for us. And besides, Miss Hairpin, you are needed. Chip has businesses to attend to in Neighvada."

"I thought he gave them up?" Hairpin answered, peering out from behind Chip.

"Those of the Irontail Estate, yes, but there are additional holdings from his mother's side. If they are to be reallocated to the Irontail Estate, there must be a bill of sale, and in any event they require administration unless or until such a sale is performed. Not to mention half the land holdings held in trust which must similarly be purchased if full title is to be ceded. My son has good intentions, ones I intend to honour if those are his wishes, but they are anything but simple.

"Hairpin, as of now you are a full employee of the Irontail-Leatherback Consortium. You will be required to liaison between Tacksworn, Neighvada and Stalliongrad. I trust you can keep your stop-off's in Ponyville confidential? My son and I would appreciate it, as would Princess Celestia. Wouldn't you, Tia?"

Sharptooth looked pointedly at the alicorn princess, who scowled but nodded.

"Great!" Twilight trotted over to the front door, straining to push it open. "Then it's time to head back down to Tacksworn. I've got to find out what Spike's up to, the poor thing gets lonely without me."

♠♣♥♦

Tacksworn was spread out before them, a large collection of huts and muddy walkways. Onyxious furled his wings carefully as they strode into the town square. The large black dragon peered down at Shimmer, who was scrawling notes into a scroll with a fine piece of charcoal. "You made a map with the writing supplies you requested from me?"

"And a journal, sir. Everything about what little Sharptooth needs, everywhere we've been, and everything you told us about dragons. It's fascinating! When Celestia sent us out to collect medicines and new materials, I never thought I'd come back with so much... more. If only Flutter Fire could have seen it."

The dragon rumbled in agreement, "Knowledge is power, little pony, and ignorance is fear. Maybe some greater good will come from our joint hardship."

"Wise words," murmured Rainy Days as he trotted forwards ahead of the dragon and the mare. The town was empty of other ponies, but the stallion could tell it was because they were hiding. "Dragons are our allies, and yet not one of these villagers will present themselves."

"Were you so different?" Onyxious chided gently.

Rainy laughed as his hooves splashed through the mud, "I guess not. If I've learned anything, unlike my wife with her spells and journals, it's that we ponies should be more open to friendship. That's what the pact is about, sir."

"And again, well said. For creatures who live such short lives, you grow wise with a speed which I am envious of." The dragon sat back on his haunches, looking towards the sky. "From here, go North. We are now in Greater Equestria, and you are in relative safety. If you have need of me, use the summoning horns in any village you pass. I will find you."

Onyxious turned to Shimmer Star, looking her in the eyes, "Take care of your new... foal, little pony. When you are ready, bring him before me. For you, it will be a lifetime before he is ready to rejoin his own kind. For him, it will be a brief part of his childhood. Teach him well."

"What was that about?" Rainy watched the huge black dragon disappear into the sky, great wings beating hard.

"For all their anger is fearful to behold, Rainy my dear, dragons love just as hard. Our son... I don't know if Sharptooth was his, but he is now ours. Onyxious loves him, and it hurts to be apart."

"Dragons have a soft spot, hmm?"

Shimmer kissed her husband, "Right under the heart, where it is with everypony."

Special Delivery

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds

The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═════════════════════════════════════

Chapter 3
Special Delivery
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

The heat was searing inside the underground workshop. It was dark and cramped, lit by flickering oil torches and softly glowing sunstones, and stocked with a myriad of tools and implements on every available workspace and wall. There were shears, knives, hooks and more, all with gleaming metal blades and bone handles, there were those with leather wraps held together by heavy-duty studs and others that were just bare metal. These were not weapons of war, nor were they showy heirlooms. These were ugly, necessary tools. Even the careful cleaning they had been through couldn't eradicate the dark brown stains that were all but etched into their very being.

The sound of the workshop running at full tilt was deafening, with the constant grind of pestle and mortar and the clank of stirring rod against the sides of great vats full of bubbling liquid forming a constant staccato roar. The backdrop of shouts and orders echoed through the enclosed space, causing a din which went beyond mere sound into some new plateau of noise.

The smell was pungent and thick, the unsavoury aroma of hundreds of diamond dogs working in scorching heat as fast as they could covered everything. Mixed in with the sweat was the peculiar tang of drying hide and rendering fat.

Ranger stood looking at the remains of his prizes as they dripped and steamed; now that they were washed clean of the last of the acid, he could reach out and touch them without the prospect of burns. He wanted to caress them, but he feared it would mar the vellum. Skin was not all. Dragon bones and dragon teeth, dragon scales and dragon horns, dragon claws and dragon tongues... each and every part of his haul was worth far more than its weight in the most expensive of metals or jewels, and though the dragon hatchlings were small, their hide could be stretched so very thin without breaking. Half a haul was more than enough for him. Though not for everyone.

"Ranger, this all you got?" asked a heavy-set male dog-troll. He had one broken fang and a scar to match, pulling his face up in a perpetual half-snarl. Despite that, his necklace of teeth spoke of his prowess in battle. A few scars here or there were proof they were well-earned.

Bruno was an alpha, he had fought his way to the top, not necessarily through brains but through merciless application of brawn. Once there, however, he'd had to learn a few new tricks. Make allies had been one of them.

"Yes, Alpha Bruno." Ranger turned his gaze to the collection of eggshells, bones picked clean of infant dragon flesh, and assorted piles of organs. "All others died in cave. Very sad."

Alpha Bruno nodded, "More glory for the one surviving, yes?" Bruno raised a paw and gave Ranger a friendly punch to his shoulder. "Old ones speak highly of dragon-parts. Not lie. Dragons... mm, good material!"

"But why sell first batch to ponies?" Ranger growled. "Snivelling ponies. Bad slaves. Weak."

"Was poorer skin, bad deal. Dumb ponies pay big, more than enough for Elders, they not need much to write on. Come, Ranger has proved good diamond dog, no? Alpha Mark cannot be far behind, big haul like this!"

Ranger couldn't help it, he wagged his tail. Ahead could only be good times, with a reputation as a dragon-slayer and provider of great wealth and power, he would join the ranks of the Pack Alphas. Not enough brains to be an Elder, he didn't care - Alphas got all the bitches anyway.

Suddenly, Bruno lifted his nose and sniffed. Something was happening. Ranger perked his ears up, it had caught him too. It was imperceptible at first, but slowly the sounds of the workshop changed. Maybe it was a sixth sense, maybe it was just pack spirit, but Ranger was drawn to the outside. All speech ceased and all work stopped, and the community of diamond dogs held its collective breath. The underground complex seemed suddenly stultifying and cramped, the walls gouged by diamond dog paw threatening and malevolent. It was not the holt that was the cause of such feelings, but intruders who dared work their own magic against rock that was owned by the diamond dogs of the Shattered Hills pack. Ranger put his paws against the walls, and then drew them back, hissing. There would be no burying through these hills, not until whoever stood against them was vanquished.

Outside, large dark shapes with leathery wings were circling the quarry, bellowing calls to one another. Those that landed were still and silent, oversized hind claws gripping the lip of the rock canyon, digging into it, their scaly tails tearing chunks from the bedrock as they whipped back and forth. Rubble was raining down into the basin in an almost constant tide as more and more of the creatures alighted.

Ranger and Bruno emerged into bedlam as the bitches took their pups to safety whilst the dogs fought past them to get out to confront their enemies. The holt had no doors as such, they weren't needed. Most who dared enter uninvited never made it out again. If they were not lost in the maze-like warrens, they were dealt with mercilessly and quickly by the guards. Rough arches, bare of any insignia or filigree, had been hewn from the solid rock, paths beyond arching up or down to aid in ventilation as necessary. Down was safety, down was home, away from the skies. In the skies lurked beasts most terrible.

"Dragons!" Bruno said, needlessly, as he shook the other by the shoulder. "Ranger! What have you done?"

Ranger snarled, pulling back the skin over his large fangs, as he uttered just one word in response. "Run!"

"No!" barked Bruno, swiping Ranger across the muzzle with the back of his paw. "Diamond dogs do not run. We fight!"

Pikes, polearms, spears and clubs, and maces, morning stars and flails - these were all common weapons easily found within a diamond dog holt. The warrior hounds scrambled noisily yet smartly, arming themselves, racing out to face the threat. Ranger snarled again, grabbing himself a spiked helmet and a pike. Jamming the former onto his head and gripping the latter by one huge forepaw, he headed not out, but back in. Bruno spat on the ground after him, Ranger made a rude gesture and left. Eyes gleaming in the darkness as he headed further in to hopeful safety, Ranger swore to himself. "Cannot fight dragons. not so many. Better to run."

More and more of the dragons fell out of the skies to land along the rim of the quarry. Their eyes gleamed in the moonlight and brief spurts of flame lit the night as they surrounded their prey. The diamond dogs streamed out to meet them, tumbling onto the rocky floor and out onto the slab ledges high up on the walls. The pack snarled and snapped loudly at the silently staring creatures. For long minutes there was no movement save for the arrival of more dragons, each majestic beast taking up a position around the area, swelling their ranks.

For a few brief moments there was tense waiting and almost total silence, and then the diamond dogs charged. Bellowing incoherent battle-cries, they surged as one mass towards their foes. The dragons reacted immediately; some took to the skies, others bent their long scaly necks and unleashed balefire at their prey. The thick, meaty sound of claws and tail meeting hide rang out below the overarching roar of the melee. The dragons roared and bellowed, sweeping thickly armoured tails through whole swathes of hounds, ridged spines and spikes making quick work of them. The long, winding, protected road up was blocked with walls of flame and deadly teeth and claws, so they instead scrambled up the sheer rock-face, claw over claw, with their weapons held in their teeth. The dragons dived down in, snatching trolls from the ledges and walls, hurling them through the air where they were dashed to pieces on the jagged rocks or snapped up and devoured mid-scream by other dragons. Spears were hurled, fouling the wings of several dragons. They landed heavily but sprung to their claws fighting, limping away and hissing defiance where they were caught by the poisoned weapons. Few dragons went down, very few, and their death-screams called bloody retribution upon their slayers, as sheets of flame burst forth from their flight-mates and seared everything in their path to blackest ashes.

The battlefield was taken as the dragons moved in, decimating the diamond dog pack without mercy. The dragons worked independently, each taking their own course, but the whole of the attack was orchestrated by the largest of them as he roared orders which were obeyed without question. The dragon was huge, as black as ebony, with burning red eyes. His glare alone was fierce enough to shred rock and none dared stand against his rage. Rock was torn from rock and the holt split asunder by the combined fury of a hundred dragons. There would be no escape in the depths of the world, not from the rage of Onyxious and his fellow dragons.

The smaller dragons swarmed in through the rock archways, tearing them open further as necessary, their bulk barely fitting in the close quarters. Red and yellow flame seared the walls of the tunnels, melting them so they could be ripped away by claw or tail, or simply devoured. The larger dragons outside were not idle, they shredded the caves like confetti, snapping up the remaining attacking trolls and rending the flesh from their bones just as efficiently. The fighting was furious, intense... and short.

As the white moon rose above the desert, it illuminated a scene of utter devastation and destruction. The holt had been reduced to nothing but piles of rubble stained black with blood, still steaming and glowing in places as the rock cooled. The whole cliff-face had been laid bare, torn away like the bark from a tree to expose a massive structure within. Green-tinged rock had been shaped meticulously in the confines of a great cave to form a huge castle-like structure, a subterranean fortress hidden from view. Into it streamed the last of the Shattered Hills pack, harried by the dragons. Those that didn't make it were mercilessly executed.

Outside the castle, a lone, old diamond dog stood. He urged his people inside with brief, quiet barks and gestures from his staff. As the flow subsided to a mere trickle and then all but stopped, screams of agony silenced as the invaders made complete their bloody victory, the old diamond dog turned to face his enemies. "Hold, dragons," he said coolly.

Onyxious landed in front of his lieutenants and urged them back. "Speak, dog."

"You have punished our people enough, wyrm. Leave us now to die. Our pack is dead, our homes are in ruins, our dreams shattered."

Onyxious snarled. "You speak of dreams? You took our young, fleshling. You took lives un-hatched and ended them before they could see the stars. Why do you think you deserve to remain breathing?"

"This isn't justice." the diamond dog said, leaning on his staff. He shook his head, one paw running through his head-fur and down across his muzzle. "This-"

"This is revenge." Onyxious spoke quietly, but his words carried across the pit easily. "I do not claim an altruistic need for resolution, I desire blood. You stole my children!" The dragon slammed his foreclaws into the ground, scooping up a clawful of rocks which he threw at a group of diamond dogs. Their final yelps as they were reduced to a fine red paste echoed to nothing before the large black dragon spoke again. "There is no abyss deep enough to escape my wrath, troll. I will end your pack for their crimes."

"Then we have nothing more to discuss." The elder struck his staff against the rock floor once. It rippled, shimmering in the starlight, and it drew him backwards towards the castle. He slipped inside the great structure and a great rocky slab slid down, sealing him in.

Onyxious roared, and threw himself against the structure, claws ripping at the walls, sparks shedding as they bounced off. Finally he stopped, snarling and growling as he regained his breath. He looked over at a small box out in the middle of the canyon, guarded by four dragons. It contained the last remnants of the last clutch the dragoness who had borne them would ever lay. He had personally lain their remains within, and shut it. He glared at the castle, and knew what the final punishment of the Shattered Hills pack would be.

"His magic is strong, but he is not the only one who can talk to the rocks." The great black dragon turned to his cohorts. "Eradicate the last vestiges of the Shattered Hills pack from this miserable plane of existence. I will see to the cowards who hide within this building. It is no fortress. It shall be their tomb."

He turned back to the cave and drew in an enormous breath. He let forth a titanic blast of balefire. It flooded the cave, melting the walls and floor. It melted the rock-face, it caused the floor to sag and give, and still he spewed forth flame. The jade-tinged castle was glowing red-hot now, and as the floor beneath it turned to glass and then liquid, it began to sink. As the last few feet of the tallest spire was just disappearing beneath the lake of molten lava, Onyxious slammed his claws high into the ceiling of the cave and he pulled down the mountain itself.

The quarry rumbled and shook. Weakened by the combined attack of a hundred dragons or more, it gave in. The entire site began to collapse, falling in upon itself. The dragons leaped for safety, taking to the skies and circling as they observed the destruction. They called to one another, spurting flame and bellowing their victory cries as the canyon was levelled and flattened.

Finally, it stopped. Perched atop the mounds of rubble, with slick glass and precious metals pooling around his gleaming claws, the baleful black dragon threw back his head and bellowed. The roar was primal, angry and triumphant, and it was answered by the other dragons. All would know the fate of those who dared oppose the draconic hegemony. It was simple: obliteration.

Seeing his vengeance was satiated, Onyxious turned to leave. On great leathery wings he soared skywards, circled the devastation once, and was gone.

♠♣♥♦

"Yaaaa-hoooo!" Chip cried as Hairpin did a barrel roll. He gripped her tightly with his legs, but it didn't seem to matter. She was an experienced pegasus, and she was sure and accomplished with her flight magic. It was as if he was a part of her, and however she flew it was as if he was welded to her body. She looped the loop, dropped down straight into a dead spin and then levelled out to flare her wings at the last second and land lightly on her hooves.

Giggling, she sat down on her haunches. Chip rolled off onto his back, legs in the air.

"That... was awesome." the young stallion said as he lay breathing excitedly.

"Well, anytime my master wants another ride, all he has to do is ask," said the pegasus with a flick of her golden tail. She flipped her wings to her sides and trotted off into Tacksworn with a bouncing gait that drew the eye of every stallion and most mares.

Sharptooth had decreed that she would be staying in town for a while until the preliminary set of paperwork was complete and Baroness Irontail had been contacted and declared safe and sound. Chip had been made to put his hoof-print on a variety of official-looking papers and had been lectured long and hard about the value of money, investing and thrift. He had then danced off with glee at being given a ten bit a week allowance and totally sent everything the poor dragon had tried to teach him in one ear and out the other. The night was young, he was flush with cash and it was time to go shopping! After the more important business of locating Spike, anyhow. Ah, yes life was good.

The shadow that blocked out the setting sun brought Chip out his daze. He blinked and realised he was looking up into the sharp beak of a griffon. A griffon called Carmine, to be exact.

"You. Her. Explain."

"I, er, hi Carmine!"

"Go on." The griffon stomped over his prone form, flicking her fore-claws through the dirt, digging small grooves in the dusty walkway as she straddled the pony menacingly.

"She was just... that was Hairpin and she just, uh... gave me a ride..."

"I see." Carmine's eyes narrowed as she glared at the pony beneath her.

"...Down to Tacksworn. And it was awes- uh, it was fun. Ish. Kinda. In a really boring way," Chip grinned, hopefully.

"I'm going to-"

"Ahem."

Chip and Carmine both looked over at the owner of the voice. The cough to clear her throat had been relatively quiet and reserved. As the pair looked at Twilight, the unicorn blushed.

"Umm, if you two need a... a moment, I can... come back later?"

Carmine looked down at Chip. Chip looked up at Carmine. He grinned. Her neck-feathers fluffed up and her crest rose. She stomped over his prone body, leonine tail slapping him in the muzzle.

Chip rolled over hastily and almost had to gallop to catch up to her. "I'm sorry, she was... really only giving me a lift. I kinda broke my wings yesterday."

"Then you'd better fix them!" snarled Carmine.

"You really think I could? I mean that one time you and me were flying together and then we..." Chip trailed off.

Carmine turned, facing the pony. "We what?"

Chip just blushed, looking down, kicking his hoof at the dirt. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... to kiss you."

"You didn't like it?" Carmine asked weakly, her neck-feathers flattened instantly.

"Oh I did! I mean... it was nice, and, uh..." Chip looked up. He opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say went out the metaphorical window as he nickered and leaped forwards a few inches. Carmine suddenly found her beak once again locked with the strangely draconic pony's muzzle for a brief few seconds in a perfect kiss. Carmine blinked and pulled away, leaving Chip with his eyes closed mauling at nothing for a few moments. Then he opened his eyes and blushed. "Sorry, uh, something pinched me and..."

"Shut it and kiss me again, dweeb. I might forgive you."

Twilight chuckled to herself. She wasn't much for relationships herself, but she could spot awkward young love when it was practically written in glowing, six-foot high letters like that. The telekinesis spell faded and she cast a want-it-find-it spell to lead her to her errant number one assistant. The sparkle of lights generally congregated towards the center of town, and eventually led to a large, round wooden building.

"The library?" the lavender unicorn said to herself. "Well, I guess there's no place like home." Striding in, Twilight found rather more of a busy bustle than she had expected. She spotted a smallish diamond dog sitting at a table poring over what looked like a rather ancient book in a language she was surprised to find she didn't understand, a pegasus putting books back and another unicorn pulling them out. Three other diamond dogs were rearranging shelves, putting them back into position. Spike was running between the small diamond dog and the unicorn and pegasus, either accepting or dismissing the books being presented.

"Spike? What in Equestria are you doing?"

The little purple dragon looked over at his mentor and jumped a little. Hurrying to put the books on the table, he then ran over to Twilight waving his paws. "Oh no! No, no,no. You're not allowed any books from here. I've spent all afternoon clearing this place up!"

Twilight looked hurt. "When do I ever-"

"Every time!"

"But-"

"No! I've got my number one assistant researching this already," Spike said. "We're on to something with the diamond dogs!" Suddenly, he put his front paws together, pleadingly. "Please Twilight?"

"And just why are you researching diamond dogs?" Twilight asked, nuzzling Spike, who brushed off the pony kisses and pouted. She trotted over to the table with interest. Pulling up a chair, she took a longer glance at the text.

"Well, they did kind of attack this town yesterday. Ruff says they were being controlled by that dragon Chip killed."

Ruff, the smallish diamond dog, waved nervously. His tail wagged as he showed Twilight the book. "This is old, really old."

"What is it about?" Twilight asked. Her horn glowed as she tried a few basic translation spells, but gleaned little useful information from them.

"They're stories! Old ones, about us diamond dogs! I... I had the idea when I was reading Daring Do and the Quest for the Friendship Stones. I think it's based around the Ele... the Ele... oh my gosh." Ruff stopped reading the book and flipped through the comic instead. "Oh my gosh... that's you! It is you!" Ruff picked up the comic and pointed. "Spike, you're in here too... you're kind of pinker and you fall asleep a lot."

Twilight chuckled whilst Spike fumed, his cheeks red. "That does kind of look like me. What's it about?"

"We-ell, Daring Do has to rescue the friendship stones, only they've been stolen by the evil diamond dog king Brutus."

"Poetic license," Twilight snorted. "I thought diamond dogs didn't have kings?"

"We don't, but there are stories about the High King. They say he brought us across the Rainbow Bridge to escape the Great Light. Only the truest of the diamond dogs dared follow him, and the rest perished in flames. We found our new world, here, and formed a new empire. It's all in this book!"

Twilight flipped to the beginning and squinted at it. "I have never heard any of this!"

"I think it might be the only copy in the whole wide realm." Ruff ran his paws over the yellowed pages thoughtfully.

"What happens at the end, then?"

"It... just stops. I think there are pages missing, a whole section. It talks about the High King and his taking a new wife, and then it stops."

"So?" Twilight asked as she flipped to the last pages with her horn. She couldn't read the text, but stayed sitting and staring forlornly at it.

"So... the legend of the High King says that his crown jewels will re-unite the diamond dog clans. The one who holds them holds sway over all the diamond dogs, everywhere. The Alpha of Alphas. But it's just a legend. There was no high king, it's just a story. Mama used to tell it to me when I went to bed. The high king was so brave and strong! He was clever and he could do magic. That's... how I know it's not true. We don't have magic, not like ponies or dragons."

Twilight closed the book and nuzzled Ruff softly. "Diamond dogs have magic, it's just not as showy as us unicorns. I've never seen anything dig like a dog, Ruff. That's got to be magic, and it's very useful. Besides, you've probably saved us a lot of time."

"Saved a lot of time how?" called Chip as he and Carmine trotted in to the library. His mane was mussed, and Carmine was busily smoothing down her feathers.

Twilight chuckled, rolling her eyes when they weren't looking. "It seems Ruff here has discovered what you were looking for. It's a story, the high king of the diamond dogs had some crown jewels that would make their owner the king of all diamond dogs. Only it's an old mares' tale."

Chip blinked. "So Swiftwing was chasing after old mares' tales?"

Twilight nodded as she got up, the scrape of her chair's legs against the floor loud in the old wooden building. "Certainly looks like it, but we'd best make sure. Spike, take a letter please!"

Spike jumped to his hind claws and pulled out a parchment and quill. Nopony asked him where he'd had them. He looked expectantly at Twilight as she began to recite.

"Dear Princess Celestia, our search for preliminary answers may be at an end. With the discovery of a book of tales about a high king, we believe we may have found the root cause of the disturbances so recently plaguing-"

"Distur... disturba-" Spike paused in his scratchings to chew the end of the feather.

Twilight sighed and continued. "...the cause of the problems. I now appoint Ruff as junior number one assistant, reporting to Spike, my number one assistant, as they both research more about these stories."

Spike grinned, giggling, as he shared a glance with Ruff.

"And," Twilight continued, "I think good reference material may be the Daring Do series of books."

"Awww!"

"And comics."

"Yay!"

"As their creator seems unintentionally well-versed in such matters. Signed, Twilight Sparkle, your most faithful student."

With a puff of green smoke, Spike sent the scroll on its way. He then scampered over to the unicorn and hugged her legs. She entwined her neck with his and nuzzled him.

"Come on, Spike. I think it's time we were getting home. I know the princess wants to leave."

"Awww!"

"We can come back and visit, I'm sure."

"We-ell, okay Twi." Spike waddled over to Chip and grimaced. He pulled out a small scale and gave it to Chip. "This is for you. You'll know what to do."

"A scale?" Carmine asked. "What in Equestria would you want a scale of his for?"

Chip grinned at Spike, who grinned back. "I think I know, but it's going to take a bit of practice to find out."

There was a sudden bright flash outside the library. The sun had gone down and the sky was darkening, so the flickering light caught everybody's attention. Chip and Spike turned just in time to see Celestia trotting in to the library.

"Your majesty!" called Penny. Bella grimaced and caught the book her friend had been holding in muzzle with her horn's levitation field and slid it back in to the correct spot before she too turned to bow to the princess. Butch, Dozer and Digger saluted whilst Chip just inclined his head. Twilight on the other hoof all but galloped up to her teacher and hugged the winged unicorn warmly.

"My little ponies, and friends. And Chip." Chip looked hurt, but the princess winked. She trotted over to the table and bowed her head just a fraction. "Good evening again, my Lord Sapphire." The princess grinned, flicking her ears. She grinned wider as Chip blushed hotly. "Little Ruff, Twilight informs me you have unravelled the mystery of the disturbances in these parts?"

Ruff opened his mouth, but no words came out. He just nodded.

"The High King?"

Nod.

"Ancient treasure?"

Another nod.

"Any mention of a map?"

This time, Ruff shook his head.

"Well then," Celestia said, "it sounds to me more like we're back where we started. In a thousand years, I have seen no High King." Delicately, the princess sat down on her haunches. She sighed, heavily. "My dear subjects, I think it is time this were put to rest."

"Wait, but-!" Chip interjected.

The princess turned to him and motioned kindly for him to be calm. Reluctantly, he did so. She continued. "A great tragedy has befallen this town, a town with such a rich history and diverse peoples. It has torn up lives, shattered dreams and personally affected every one of you. Chip, for all I disagree with certain aspects of the way this town was not only saved but is being rebuilt, and with how you personally have acted to ensure the safety of your kith and kin, you have proven exemplary in your behaviour. Listen to the advice your new father gives you and grow with him in love. I can think of no better place for you than here, and in truth it is no longer any of my concern. Be that as it may, I approve.

"Ruff, Spike, I heartily approve of any friendship based on a mutual love of adventure. Against my better judgement, I approve of Twilight's recommendations. Read your books," Celestia watched the faces of the children fall, before adding, "and your comics." She smiled as they grinned, and continued with a chuckle. "Ruff, you will report on the changing nature of the diamond dogs to Spike, who will relay them to me. I will not have this realm fall into chaos, and your honest words may prove intuitive. But just remember," Celestia nuzzled Twilight before carrying on. "Don't spend too much time reading those dusty old books!"

♠♣♥♦

Carmine and Chip sat outside the library as the stars came out.

"Looks like it'll be a clear night," Chip said, gazing skywards.

"Sure will," Carmine replied, "good for hunting."

"I... wish I could come with you." Chip blushed.

The griffon looked at the pony, raising her crest in disbelief. "You, hunting?"

"Dragons hunt," Chip sniffed.

Carmine chuckled, waving a foreclaw at the silly stallion. "Yeah, but most of them have at least two of these."

"You could teach me! I-I'm sure I could do it! I just need to fix my wings first."

Carmine punched Chip on the shoulder. "Fix 'em then, dweeb. They any good for, you know, actually flying?"

Chip shook his head as he shuffled to get more comfortable on the sofa. "Not the first version, no. It was more-"

"Falling with style?"

Chip grinned. "yeah. I need... I need something to make them go. Some sort of magical power source. I'll have to talk to dad."

"What's he going to say about the sofa?" Carmine grinned back, kicking a hind paw on the plush cushions.

"I'm probably grounded forever about it," Chip laughed, blushing. "I... I only really needed the box. I don't even know how I'm going to get it home. I mean Celestia just dropped it here! In the street!"

"I think I can help with that, master!" Hairpin trotted into view, saddlebags laden down with goods.

"Oh! Hey Pin, thought you'd gone... uh... oh. I guess you need to be staying with us. Pin, this is Carmine, Car, this is-" Chip turned to look at the griffon. Her neck feathers were fluffed up and her crest was raised. "Car?"

"Hi, Hairpin." Carmine said. Her eyes glittered and her foreclaws pinched the cushions rather powerfully. "It's so nice to meet you."

Chip wasn't entirely sure she meant it. "Pin, Carmine's my... my friend. She's my best friend. I guess."

"You guess?!" Carmine hissed.

"Mistress Carmine!" Hairpin called, and she bowed before the startled griffon. "Master Chip has told me so much about you. He's always telling me how clever you are, and how much he envies your flying. He didn't mention how pretty you are though. Is that eye-colouring natural? Your feathers are gorgeous!"

"Well, I," Carmine's feathers fluffed up again as the pegasus continued smoothly.

"You simply must show me how you do it! Between you and me, I've tried dressing up for Chip, but I don't think I'm his type. He's got his eye on some other lucky girl."

"Yeah, he's a dufus like that." Carmine punched Chip again, this time in the ribs. Chip coughed, winded. He smiled weakly, clearly outnumbered.

"So, master, you said you needed help getting this sofa home again? I think I can borrow a wagon big enough, you can fit in too. Any problems, I can make two trips. Besides, gives you more time to hang out with Carmine here, you lucky dog. Look after my stuff, okay?"

Hairpin deposited her saddlebags without another word, and then trotted off back to town proper, swishing her tail side to side.

"I think," Carmine said, "I'll let you keep her."

♠♣♥♦

Gifts and Lessons

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds

The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═════════════════════════════════════

Chapter 4
Gifts and Lessons
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

"Sharptooth! Sharptooth, come down from there! Come down! Right now! It's time for bed!"

"Yes Mama!" the dragon chirped, and he spread his wings, leaping from the branch. Shimmer Star screamed in fear as the green bundle of wings and scales flew like a rock... which is to say straight down.

Mere moments before he was reunited with terra firma in a fateful fashion, his body was suddenly surrounded in a bright glow of light and his descent came to an abrupt halt. Shimmer Star found herself breathing heavily, blinking impotently at the dangling dragon.

"Shimmer, my little pony, did you forget your magic?" The voice was soft and regal, friendly and yet powerful. A white, winged unicorn strode into the clearing, horn glowing with the faintest of auras as Celestia held the baby dragon in the grasp of her telekinesis.

Shimmer Star gasped and bowed, flinging her muzzle into the dirt as her princess approached. "I'm sorry, your majesty! I try to remember, but-"

"Rise, rise. I fear it was such... over-reliance on protocol and needless elevation above the herd that lead to my sister's fall. I would not have the same happen again." Celestia sighed, turning away, looking up to dark sky, where the full moon hung silently.

"You miss her, don't you?" asked Shimmer Star in a soft whisper. She immediately blushed and tried to drive her muzzle deeper still under the loam.

Celestia paused for a moment, a look of hurt crossing her features. Then she sighed, "Indeed, dear one. Both Everfree and the castle feel so empty without my sister." Celestia gestured with a wing, the movement encompassing the whole of the Everfree Forest. “Everything reminds me of my sister, dearest Shimmer. Our palace, where we ruled in peace and harmony. The forest, which was the playground of our youth. Her night sky, adored by so many yet often cursed when she tried to merely have it appreciated.”

Celestia grew silent. The Everfree was the heart of Equestria, where the Royal Castle of the Twin Pony Sisters still stood, albeit in ruins. A scant few years ago, or so it seemed to Celestia, she had banished her sister Luna to the moon. The final battle between them had raged for many a day and night, though in truth neither knew precisely how long. When one is battling with the sun and moon, it becomes hard to keep track.

Equestria, such as it was, had fallen to civil war and strife before the conflict had ended. In the intervening years, the Everfree and Equestria had come back to life. Both had grown beautiful and strong again. Beneath open skies and twinkling stars, even beneath the moon itself which would bear her sister's mark as a permanent reminder of the dark times before, Celestia's ponies flourished.

Life was gentle and calm these days. Even Celestia's court was simple and rustic. Fireflies hung in gently swaying glow-pots, providing soft light when the sun was down. The birds and beasts wandered freely amongst the undergrowth, and soft green shoots and vines covered the castle walls and floor. Where before had stood an imposing bastion of power, the castle was now little more than a ruined shell, supplanted by a friendly, loving village. True, the village held thousands, and hundreds of thousands more roamed the lands beyond, but it was a village. It was no longer a citadel.

Celestia sat upon no throne. She had no throne room from which to rule, and no bed chambers to retire to, not even a bed as such. Neither did she have servants, instead, she lived as her people lived. The lost trappings of industry, the 'useless detritus of civilisation' as she saw it, had all been swept away by the civil war. She loved her people as they loved her, and had thought it enough. She had had no stomach for government, or tax forms, or politics. She had mourned her sister, and so civilisation had fallen. But now...

Celestia blinked, recollections and memories and regrets passing in an instant. She eyed the still-floating dragon. "Ah, yes. Sharptooth, I believe it was? Little one, your wings are not yet ready for such an effort as carrying your body. I would suggest gliding. Do you not have someone who could teach you?"

Shimmer Star looked away, tears in her eyes.

Celestia was contrite, "Forgive me. I am not the only one who has loved and lost. Flutter Fire was a brave pony. She did not deserve such a fate."

“No, she didn't. I miss her, my husband misses her.” Shimmer's voice wavered, a quiet sob causing her voice to crack.

“I would have thought that such a bundle of trouble as Sharptooth here would keep you busy, filling your lives with more than enough love. Not to forget, but to move on. Maybe you need... something else?” Celestia pondered, her gaze shifting from Shimmer, to the dragon, to the forest as it buzzed with life. She took a deep breath. Maybe it was time.

“Like what?" Shimmer's outburst snapped the princess back to reality once again as with an accusing voice, the unicorn continued. "You won't take him away from me!”

“Oh no, no. I rather think it is time for a new age to dawn. Shimmer," Celestia turned away and began pacing, as if she were measuring out a building site, "you shall start a school, right here in the Everfree. Three days a week, for the foals. You will teach reading, writing, math and magic. Brandy Butter shall teach cooking, weaving and painting. Your husband shall teach masonry and woodwork. I shall find others. Three days a week, to start, as two more days shall be spent with me.”

“With you? Why?”

“Because," and Celestia deposited the dragon safely on the ground, "I shall need to teach all of you.”

♠♣♥♦

There was a bright crimson glow as a fireball burst into being. It hung, flickering and spitting, suspended between the claws of the small, green dragon. Sharptooth grinned as the foals in his class flinched from the heat and light; it was hot enough to sear the flesh from their bodies, but it was little more than a comfortable warmth to him. Sharptooth enjoyed these times he could spend with his mother, even though he felt bashful in front of the other kids. He was the only dragon, but he did enjoy helping to teach the other foals. Shimmer Star always said that even if they were clumsy or slow, or rude or inattentive, that so long as they had that spark of curiosity, then she could draw it out of them. It was her special talent. He wondered, sometimes, if that would have been his talent too, should he have been born a pony.

“See, children? A dragon does not need a horn to focus his magic. It is innate, intrinsic to his very being,” the unicorn mare said, adjusting the glasses on the tip of her nose.

Glasses were a new addition to Equestrian life, the product of the many smithies and glassworks that had been cropping up in the last decade since she'd been press-ganged into educating the next few generations of ponydom. Such advances had been spurred on by a changed Celestia who seemed no longer content with the pastoral life of her ponies.

The fireball sputtered and went out. Sharptooth looked forlornly at his paws and blushed, mouthing "sorry mama" to the teacher.

She smiled, and carried on. "So it is with the pegasi and the earth ponies. You all know very well the power earth ponies wield; they grow our crops and plough our fields. Less well-known is the magic of the pegasi, as they are often hidden from view amongst the clouds.”

Shimmer smiled to herself, pausing for a few moments. She remembered fondly her friend from long ago. “Theirs is the air, the clouds... even the weather. One day, all of ponydom may be powerful enough to arrange the weather, in some small way, to our liking. Just think, if we could postpone rain or hasten it! What a wonderful world that would be.”

The children laughed, but she'd seen the plans, had experienced the magic. She carried on, undaunted, sewing the seeds that would one day blossom into something great. “There is talk of building a great city in the sky, where all flighted creatures may dwell in their element, taming the skies above. It shall be their realm, as the earth is for the ponies that tame the land below, and as magic is for us unicorns that tame the elements between. Some of you, my children, may yet grow up to see Cloudsdale become a reality. I sincerely hope it is so. Class dismissed.”

Sharptooth waited as the class filed out of the makeshift building. He was rather proud of it, having coaxed – in concert with a group of earth ponies – a set of trees and bushes to grow together into a coherent structure. They hadn't understood, at first, why he would want such a thing, but he'd persevered and eventually they had helped him. Now, all were protected from the rain here, and the wind. In summer it was cool, in winter it was warm.

His mother stood up and stretched. Sharptooth ran to her side and hugged her foreleg. "Ah, the young. I do so love teaching the children. they bring me the greatest joy.

Sharptooth looked hurt, “I thought I was the one thing that brought you the greatest joy.” He flapped his wings, stirring up the dusty ground.

Shimmer Star kissed him on the nose and gestured for him to take his customary seat upon her haunches, 'You bring me the greatest joy of all, son. Come now, you may carry my things. School is out for good, we move tomorrow in search of a new home.”

Sharptooth sighed, “Why, mama? What's wrong with the Everfree?”

Shimmer sighed, “A long time ago, before you were born, you had an Aunt, Flutter Fire. She was killed and eaten by diamond dogs.”

“I know. I hate them.” The dragon snorted, brief spurts of flame ejecting from his nostrils.

“No, no. I told you, Sharpie, it is beneath you to hate. Understand their nature, understand their ways. You need not approve, or accept, merely understand. You are a dragon, and a proud dragon should be above such petty things as hatred and jealousy. If a humble pony such as I can forgive them, you should too.”

Sharptooth growled, but Shimmer swatted him with her tail, “That was not the point of the story. The point is that should I be forced to live in the shadow of my herd-sister's death, there would come a time when I would have to leave and find a new place to dwell. Celestia is not like me, nor any other pony. She is far more like you, my bonny boy; you and she will still be young and strong, whilst I grow old.”

“Mama, you're not that old!”

Shimmer laughed, “Gee, thanks.” She swatted Sharptooth again. “It is true, I have many years left, but I am no yearling. As such, I want to leave a legacy made of more permanent stuff. This capitol that Celestia aims to build, this Canterlot she speaks of; it shall be my legacy as much as hers. It shall be mine, and my husbands, and yours.”

“But... this is our home,” Sharptooth stated, wings and ears drooping.

“The Everfree is her home too, but it is also her prison. If we her people are to move on into the future she seeks to build, then we must find ourselves a new home, where we can make a new start and create new memories.” the lavender mare lead the dragon primly out of the clearing, giving it one last fond look of farewell. “Will you join with us in this endeavour, my son?”

“Do we have to?” Sharptooth looked forlornly at the makeshift schoolhouse he had created, at the glades he may never see again, at the forest he'd called home for all his life. Suddenly he realised that his mother had stopped. “What?” the dragon asked, embarrassed.

“My son,” Shimmer Star paused, voice shaking, “when you were born...”

“You told me-”

“Listen. When you were born, diamond dogs took from you your birthright as much as they took from you your brothers and sisters. I have been charged, along with your father, of bringing you up. One day, he and I will be gone to join your Aunt Flutter in the Great Herd. I will pass on happily if I know you have been returned to your rightful place amongst your own kind.”

She shushed Sharptooth once again at his hurt look, “We love you, first born amongst all our foals, but you are not a pony and can never be. It would be cruel to expect you to be. One day, you must return to the dragons and find your clan. Maybe that day is now.”

“But... but mama,” Sharptooth stammered, “I don't want to... I want...”

“What, my love?”

“I don't want to go to the dragons! I want to stay with you!” Sharptooth sniffled, crying out with tears running down his cheeks as he twiddled his claws together.

Shimmer Star turned her head back to look at the ground. She kicked the leaves and twigs around for a few moments before continuing, “Be that as it may, but I think it is time for you to learn a little more about your own kind. Then you can be sure.”

♠♣♥♦

The forest was verdant and green, alive with the sounds of nature. The path through it was nothing more than an animal track, and the treacherous roots and broken branches covered with moss threatened to be her undoing. Shimmer Star galloped recklessly through the undergrowth, horn flashing in fits and spurts as she slashed what greenery she could from her way. Behind her, so close she swore she could feel their hot breath, the timberwolves were gaining.

Sharptooth did what he could, with fireball after fireball giving the vicious creatures at least some pause for thought, but he was tiring. Breathlessly he hung onto the unicorn's tail as they sped onwards.

In an explosion of leaves and branches, Shimmer broke through the treeline and emerged into an open expanse of grassy fields. The sudden drop of the hillside caused her to stumble and fall, pitching the young dragon upon her back off, to fall awkwardly onto the wet sod. Sobbing with lost breath, winded, Shimmer Star waited for the end. As long seconds turned into a minute or more, she opened her eyes. The timberwolves were distant, snapping and snarling impotently at the edge of the clearing.

“Well?!” she cried, “what are you waiting for?”

The insistent tug on her tail made her turn, as Sharptooth cleared his throat, “I think they're waiting for him.”

Shimmer looked up, into the red eyes of a black dragon.

"I see I have been lax in pest control," Onyxious shouted, as he spread his wings and leaped for the forest boundary. His bellowing roar and the accompanying belch of flame scattered the creatures in moments. Onyxious pursued for a brief minute or two, torching trees and tearing up the undergrowth, before giving up and sending a plume of fire skywards. He returned, chuckling, to find the pony and the hatchling staring in disbelief and more than a little alarm. "And I see your map-making skills were of a somewhat amateur nature the last time you and I spoke, my dear pony. Perhaps you will do better in future visits?"

Shimmer Star looked up into the glowing red eyes of the dragon, and then bowed low, breathing long and hard into the earth.

“You need not bow to me, little one. I do not own you. I, perhaps, should be bowing to you. You bring me something important, yes?”

The dragon was large, Shimmer had forgotten quite how large in the intervening years. “I-I-I do, sir,” Shimmer stammered, “may I present Sh-Sharptooth?”

The dragon peered down with some amusement, “Hail and well met, little Sharptooth. Pray, can you tell me why your mother brings her ungainly, odd little foal to a dragon?”

Sharptooth, his muzzle hanging open, squeaked and froze. The large black dragon snorted with amusement, “I see. Come, then, geasling. You have not discharged your duty quite yet, but it would behoove me to be accommodating. You did, after all, brave the wilds for my sake.”

♠♣♥♦

The dragon's cave was large, spacious, and rather warm. After the drizzling clouds of the plains and the boggy marshes and dank undergrowth of the forest, it was heavenly. Shimmer Star fell to the floor in front of the fire and lay there, breathing heavily. For his part, Sharptooth waddled over to the fire eagerly and examined it with bright eyes.

“Mama, no wood!” the little dragon reported. He stuck out a claw, letting the eldritch flames play over his scales, “hot, too! Will I be able to do that?”

“One day, my sweet,” the unicorn replied, exhausted as she lay recuperating, “for now you are but a little dragon, with but a little magic. Fire hot enough to burn rocks without fuel is a few years beyond you. A few, but not many.”

“Oh?” rumbled the black dragon, peering down with interest, “does your foal feel he has the capacity for dragon magic?”

“I'm no foal! I'm a dragon! I can do any magic you can do!” Sharptooth waved a claw, pouting at the enormous wyrm.

“Make fire then,” the dragon rumbled. He passed down a bowl filled with water, placing it in front of the unicorn. She gratefully drank from it. “Go on, all dragons must learn to make fire.”

Sharptooth placed his paws together, closed his eyes, then drew his paws apart. Between them spurted a red ball of flame.

“Sufficient,” the dragon snorted. He passed down some dried fruits and nuts, placing them carefully in front of the unicorn. “Tell me, young one. Can you breathe fire?”

Sharptooth twirled his toe-claws in the dirt, and shook his head as he gazed down at the patterns he left in the dust.

“Interesting," Onyxious said. The great black dragon placed his titanic head close to Sharptooth, looking him over. "A latent ability with magic, an affinity for fire, yet he does not have his own flames."

"I have been teaching him, Onyxious. We both have, my husband and I. But we are not dragons. I have brought him here because—"

Onyxious nodded, gently. "Be calm, little Shimmer Star. You do your family proud." The dragon stomped off deeper into the cave, to return with a selection of foodstuffs suitable for a pony. "Your wish to educate and enlighten is obvious and commendable. Perhaps it is time to show your scaly little foal here some of what being a dragon means. You cannot be expected to teach a dragon about breathing fire, though I dare say he may pick it up himself... in time."

Shimmer shuffled herself closer to the fire and yawned, despite herself. The black dragon laughed, a deep rumbling sound that shook his cave, gesturing to a fur rug. "But it would seem, like all mothers, you are tired from caring for your little one, and yourself. Rest now. Tomorrow, young Sharptooth, your education will begin."

♠♣♥♦

Sharptooth stood outside the cave in freezing rain. He was still yawning and picking sleep-dust out of his eyes as the heavy, grey clouds floated overhead. The huge black dragon Onyxious had insisted, and Mama Shimmer had agreed. It was so totally unfair! It was cold and wet, he was hungry and tired... and worst of all, Onyxious himself was still inside ferreting about in the back of his cave.

Sharptooth curled his claws into the grass, contemplating the feel of the slick blades between the toes of his paws. Motion at the cave-mouth drew his attention. The black dragon stuck his great head out on his sinuous, muscled neck, stretched and then leaped from the hill-top, only half-unfurling his wings to make the short glide down. The rush of wind as the ebony dragon back-winged nearly blew Sharptooth over. As he staggered to regain his balance, Onyxious slithered around him with an appraising look on his gargantuan muzzle.

"Yes, yes... well proportioned. Stance firm, tail could do with being a bit longer. Onyxious didn't stop pacing, it was making Sharptooth dizzy. Suddenly, the black dragon spun, the very tip of his tail upending the smaller green dragon and throwing him into the dirt. "You really haven't been taught to fight, have you?"

Sharptooth sniffled and started to cry.

"Ah ah, none of that, or I won't give you your present."

"A present?" Sharptooth sniffled again, wiping his muzzle with a claw. Onyxious nodded, placing a small black box on the ground in front of Sharptooth. “These, young dragon, are your first set of training spikes. One day, you will be forced to do battle. Fighting is one of the rituals all dragons go through, and if you are to be a dragon in every sense of the word, you must learn to fight like one.”

Sharptooth opened the box. Inside were a collection of silvery, metallic objects. He lifted a few of them out, one by one, and examined them. "Training spikes?"

Onyxious grinned, showing his teeth. "Let me show you how they work."

♠♣♥♦

Sharptooth barrelled across the countryside, dropping to all fours for greater speed. He spread his wings and leaped into the air every now and again, seeking to catch his prey. The animal was fast and nimble, and Sharptooth was only little. As he had been taught, Sharptooth made a great leap, all four claws outstretched, the bladed gauntlets making a sharp snick noise as they unfurled. He landed in a heap in the grass, the timberwolf having dodged sideways at the last minute. Rolling over and over, Sharptooth shouted in anger. He took a deep breath, it seemed to make his whole body swell and grow in magnitude, and then bellowed just as loudly as he could in frustration.

Onyxious chuckled, landing next to him. "I should have known a useless whelp like you wouldn't be able to catch a pitiful timberwolf. Years of soft living with soft ponies has made you just like them. Soft."

"What?" Sharptooth's head snapped up suddenly.

"Yes, just a pony in a dragon suit. Maybe it was a mistake, bringing you out here." Onyxious clenched his talons into a fist. There was a brief yelp, and the timberwolf keeled over, dead. "You can't hunt, you can't fight, you can't-"

"Shut up!" Sharptooth's muzzle screwed up. "That's not fair!"

"You should go home. To your pony mother, hide between her legs."

"That's... you... no! That's not fair!"

"It's alright, she's only a pony. I won't hold it against her if she has failed."

"My mama hasn't FAILED!" Sharptooth shouted, and a jet of flame spurted from each nostril, the tears on the end of his muzzle sizzling away into vapour. "She's my Mama and you w-won't—"

Onyxious held up a claw for silence. "Little one. Breath again."

Sharptooth stood there, breathing heavily and hiccuping, with little spurts of flame causing wisps of smoke to rise in front of his muzzle. He blinked.

"Fury, for a dragon, is a powerful emotion. Common beasts like that timberwolf, they do not feel fury. A dragon does. It dwells inside you, burning you up. If you do not learn to harness and control it, your fury can control you. When you do, little Sharptooth, then shape it. Will it into being. Focus it, bring it forth, and unleash its might. Flame, little dragon. This is your true first lesson."

"But... how—?"

"Focus. Feel that anger, that burning hatred. The emotion was real, though my words were chosen with care to evoke it. Feed it, do not feel it. Let it grow and bubble up within you, and when you are ready... breathe out."

Sharptooth took a breath, screwing his eyes shut, and then did his best to roar. Flames, hot and true, seared the grasses, burning them to ash.

"A lot of anger, for one so small. I trust I am not responsible for all of it?"

Sharptooth shook his head, balling his claws into fists. "The diamond dogs are."

Onyxious lay down suddenly, curling his tail up under his chin. "Come closer, little Sharptooth. I will tell you a story about diamond dogs."

♠♣♥♦

"A high king, hmm?" Sharptooth scratched his muzzle. "Can't say I've heard much about one, but it has been a few centuries."

The front door to the house was closed and the curtains were drawn. The dragon stoked the fire with a poker and muttered a few strange words, waving a claw. It flared up brighter. "Come now, it is time for a cup of tea before we retire for the night. Then you can tell me all about it. Into the kitchen with you, fetch Miss Hairpin a cup too."

"Aww, dad! Can't I make her get the tea?"

"A pony making a dragon tea?"

"She is my—"

"Hush, my boy. You're making the tea tonight. All of it. You do want to show off your fire-breathing, don't you?"

Chip wearily got up from his spot by the fire, trotting into the kitchen. "I'm... I'm not sure I can still breathe fire!" he called. Chip reappeared with the tea-set on a tray held in his muzzle, which he set down on the table. "It kind of went out when I'd finished eating that fire-ruby..."

"Nonsense, lad! If you feel you need a bit of a push this one time, then be off upstairs with you. Your saddlebags will likely had a few shards left."

"Good idea!" Chip replied, and he dashed through the living room and up the spiral stairs. His door slammed open and there were distressing sounds of the boy searching through his stuff. "I can't find them!" he called, voice echoing down the stairwell.

"Maybe you should check the hoard room?" Sharptooth called. Chip dashed back down again, taking the steps two at a time as he all but galloped through the house. His hoofsteps dwindled off into the distance.

"Excitable, isn't he?" Hairpin chuckled.

"Quite, and very inquisitive. Very inquisitive indeed. Almost impossible, one could say, of getting rid of for a brief chat."

Hairpin's ears perked up. "Y-yes?"

Sharptooth leaned his large, blunt head closer. "Do not fear, my dear. Whilst he is my son, and of the Leatherback clan, you belong to him, not me. I merely seek to look after his best interests. And that means caring for his pets where he is unable. How far along is it?"

The pegasus looked flustered, flicking her blonde mane out of her eyes. "H-how far along is what?"

Sharptooth just stared, with a friendly, patient look on his muzzle..

"You're saying... I'm..." Hairpin motioned to her belly with a wing. She looked at it quizzically as Sharptooth nodded. "I'm pregnant," she said to herself, softly. "I'm actually pregnant? Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Oh Celestia! Me? But how?"

"One would assume in the usual manner," Sharptooth said, smirking.

"Pig Iron! He... he really did give me up. I mean, of course I know he did, it's just I've been unable to have a foal for so long, I kind of forgot why, and now you're telling me I've gone and got myself—!" Hairpin's ears flattened to her skull and she started breathing heavily.

"Be calm, my dear pegasus, be calm. You are among friends. I take it this wasn't planned, then?" Sharptooth placated the mare with gentle words and gentler application of forepaw to her mane. "If you're having second thoughts, there are ways to—"

Hairpin blinked and looked over at Sharptooth. "No! No, no, I mean... I've always wondered what it would be like. I-I guess I'll find out." A slow smile spread across her muzzle and her ears flicked up as she stroked her belly with a wing, slowly. "I did wonder... it's not far along at all, sir, not at all. How did you find out?"

"We dragons have a nose for such things, and a small spell confirmed my suspicions. You had that... look about you. I, er... don't suppose?" Sharptooth looked pointedly down the corridor where Chip had disappeared to, then back to the pegasus.

"What, you mean—? With him? Oh... no! No, no, no, it-it wouldn't be right, I mean, he's my... and I'm his... and..." Sharptooth had the decency to look flustered. Hairpin stared at the dragon for a few long seconds, and then burst out laughing. "He's really too young and... well he's cute as a button but he's not my type. Even forgetting the whole... master thing. Even if he was, my type I mean, I wouldn't. It's just... you haven't had slaves, ever, have you? No, I suppose not, you being that close to Celestia and all."

Sharptooth shook his head. "No, and it's really not something I feel entirely comfortable with."

"If my being here makes you uncomfortable—"

Sharptooth shook his head and waved his claws. "No, my dear, it is not that, not at all. I just do not entirely agree with the total subjugation of another thinking, sentient life-form. The disregard some have for the lives of others is a cause of personal pain to me." The large green dragon's eyes unfocused for a moment and a grimace crossed his features, then he looked back at Hairpin. "You will be well treated with my son. I will make sure of that, and I dare say he will too."

"Please don't," Hairpin whispered.

"Don't what?"

"Don't set me free." The pegasus shivered slightly.

Sharptooth sighed, but reached out to smooth down the mane of the pegasus with gentle strokes of his foreclaws. "No, my dear. You are safe. And so will your foal be. Before you are unable to travel, however, I feel we should all make a trip back to Stalliongrad. There was a lot of unfinished business there. We can perhaps pick up your spouse?"

"Oh, er, there... isn't one."

"Do you plan on..?" Sharptooth rolled his eyes as the pony shook her head. "Do you atleast know who it was?"

"Oh, yes."

"Good."

"I think. I mean, I'm pretty sure it was one of them..."

Chip came clattering up the hallway to the living room, pulling up short when he saw the expression on Hairpin's muzzle. "Hey, Dad, Pin. What's up?"

"Good news!" Hairpin said, flicking her tail. "We're having a baby!"

"WHAT?!" shouted Chip, and a wall of flame soaked the table. As the heat and light subsided, and he looked away from the laughing dragon and pegasus, his eyes fell upon the now-empty table. "Oh strangle me with Celestia's bright, bushy blue beard." he swore, "I've posted the teaset."

♠♣♥♦

Ranger cowered in the darkness. He was buried, but even that didn't make him feel safe. He and the small number of trolls who had followed him were all that remained of the Shattered Hills pack. He was probably the closest thing to an Alpha that they had. In the darkness, with the stench of fear and piss almost tangible, it didn't seem like nearly enough. The air was choking, they were tired and hungry and scared, but none dared so much as move a muscle. The old stories came back to them; tales of the burning sun, the breath of the sky-god, and they feared for their very souls. When the sky god came, he left nothing but dust. The dragons of this world, they weren't the same as the beasts of home. It was then that Ranger learned another new term: regret.

The scrabbling was faint at first, but soon grew in volume. The trolls couldn't help it, they started wailing. This only caused the scrabbling to return, louder. As dust and debris rained down amongst them, the ceiling was torn off in great chunks. Ranger found himself looking up into the piercing blue eyes of a dragon that was also the deepest shade of blue. The sun behind her was blinding and he cowered from it, and the dragon.

"Ah, my prize. Patience is a virtue, and it rewards those who keep it. Come forth, little trolls, come forth."

With much coaxing, the dragoness urged the diamond dogs into daylight. She had them gather in a roughly circular group, which she paced around slowly. "Yes, yes. I will take you. Little trolls, do you know what today is?" She waited, but they did not speak. She snorted. "Today is your deliverance from the tyranny of free will. My brother has bid your pack be eradicated, and so it shall be. From this day forth, mongrels, you will belong to me. Your pack shall be no more, your lands forfeited and your lives... mine. There is but one alternative, my playthings, and you are of course free to choose it.

"If, however, you choose to bask in the glory of service to your new mistress Akhekhu, there is but one tiny little favour. One amongst you has led you low, my servants. His blood must be shed. Deliver him to me."

Ranger looked around at the pack. Broken, dispirited, homeless. His life had been harsh, as it was for all diamond dogs. He had been born to an unfavoured union and pronounced as a beta amongst the pack. For every morsel of food or respect, he had had to fight. With one fell act, he had sought to elevate himself and instead had brought wrack and ruin. There was only one thing he could do, if he were to die with any sort of honour.

He stepped forwards.

The light, when it came, was so bright it went beyond merely blinding him. It permeated his very being, infiltrated every pore. It washed over him in a golden tide that consumed his very essence to produce yet more light. And then, as all bright lights must do, it faded... and he was gone.

Akhekhu looked over her collection of slaves, cowering together and whimpering as the last of the ash blew away in the wind. They were filthy, unwashed, malnourished and ignorant of even the most basic of courtesies to their new owner. Lady Akhekhu of the Sapphire Reaches would have a lot of work to do if they were to be made suitable, but they were hers. They would make good slaves though, of this she were sure. If not, well... her own young would require hunting practice.

"Come, dogs. Heel."

As she lumbered away from the site of devastation, she mused thoughtfully to herself that slaves who could fly may have been a better choice. Walking was tiring. If only there had been more of them, they could have carried her.

♠♣♥♦

The Elder stirred the cauldron slowly. The time of weeping was over, and it was now time to rest. The last of the torches were fading, sputtering out. Soon the fortress would be in darkness, and it would be neverending. The dragons had trapped them all, helplessly and entirely too securely within the bowels of Equestria. Magic held the castle together, he could remove it, but then the boiling rock outside would rush in, and they would die in agony. The rock surrounding the structure was too hot to dig through, even where it had solidified, and would remain too hot for far too long.

No, no. They would never be leaving this place.

He stirred the cauldron as another diamond dog dipped a cup in and shuffled away.

Eventually there was only one cup-full left. His own. He filled it and walked slowly to the two stone thrones. Sitting down, he uttered what blessings he could for the souls of his people, that they would not be trapped in this place. His own soul, however, would remain. With none to bless his passing, he would have to brave the wrath of the gods alone.

He raised the potion to his lips and drank, emptying the bowl. He placed it down on the empty throne next to him and closed his eyes. The secrets of the fortress would remain hidden, at least. If they could not get out, there were none left who could get in. He could rest. Rest was good. He was so tired.

In the silent tomb, the last torch sputtered weakly, and went out.

♠♣♥♦

Growing Pains

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds

The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═════════════════════════════════════

Chapter 5
Growing Pains
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

Sharptooth waddled awkwardly around the cave like a mobile tea-service whilst Shimmer Star looked on with amusement. He had most of his armour on, and his lack of experience with it showed. The headpiece was too big, the tail-blade fit badly and the haunch guard was oversized enough to be in danger of dragging along the floor. The spiked neck-guard sagged around his shoulders, and his wings were entirely too small for the blades there too.

"My brave little warrior," the unicorn said, giggling. "Have you learnt much these past few weeks?"

For a reply, Sharptooth struck a mighty pose and snorted a few brief spurts of fire.

"They grow up so fast," said Shimmer Star with a sigh.

"A few centuries and he'll be ready for life on his own," Onyxious replied with a chuckle.

The unicorn choked on her plate of vegetables at the dragon's words. Coughing weakly, she replied, "Forgive me, I keep forgetting the unique timescales dragons live with."

The large black dragon lay on his belly at the back of the cave with a scroll on the rock floor before him, held open by two carefully placed weights. "This is good work, little pony. A true work of art, although your cartography skills are somewhat lacking."

"I do what I can without eyes in the sky. You never met her, but Flutter Fire was the true artist of our little herd," Shimmer Star replied wistfully.

"I may never have met her, but I can tell you miss her." The dragon tapped the scroll. "You have marked both her capture, and her final resting place. I... I have returned there, in the past few years, once or twice. It is now a pond, unremarkable yet beautiful in its own way."

"Sharptooth—" Shimmer broke off; the large dragon had been reluctant to hear of the hatchling when previously mentioned. This time, Onyxious seemed more open. He gestured with his claws. She continued. "Sharptooth was born there. I marked him down also."

"So I noticed. He means a lot to you, too."

"My husband and I, we haven't had..." The unicorn broke off, both blushing and sad.

"You should," Onyxious said. He stared at the map, running the back of a huge claw across the parchment slowly. "Whilst you still can, you should."

"Is that an order?" Shimmer Star flicked her ears in mirth. Onyxious raised an eye-ridge at the mare, and then burst out laughing.

"If it suits you, then take it as such! Just see to it that you continue to chronicle the world of dragons. Ignorance breeds fear and distrust, and is oft the cause of misery. A change is in the wind for Celestia and her little ponies. You may just be one of the architects of it. I would have peace between our kinds, if it be possible."

"You approve of my new hobby, then?"

"I approve of knowledge being revered, catalogued and shared. You may call upon my knowledge, meagre though it may be, in your works. I would have you stay to learn more."

Shimmer Star looked up sharply at the huge beast with wide, surprised eyes. He was wistful, pleading even. "You wish me to delay our trip home, then?"

"I do, but I can tell you will not extend your visit overlong. It is written large upon that innocent muzzle of yours, little unicorn, that you desire other ponies to mingle with. Take your foal with you. He is not ready to leave the nest. I will teach him what I can in this brief span, then you may go. I urge you though," Onyxious grinned, pointing to the scroll, "make a new map."

♠♣♥♦

Canterlot. The very name was spoken of in hushed whispers and with reverence. It was something new, an entirely different sort of town. It needed a new word, city. Rising out of the side of a great mountain, with a sprawling community below, ponies were flocking from all over Equestria to take part in history. Stonemasons, coopers, carpenters, plumbers and more—they all hawked their wares, taught apprentices, built or repaired.

Sharptooth looked up in awe at it all as he rode into the city on his mother's back. The farmlands extended for acres and acres, and the city itself had been visible ever since they'd passed through the old forest-home of the Everfree. Trotting through the now-abandoned Equestrian stronghold had been eerie and disconcerting. It was as if the joy had left with the ponies, leaving only an echo of ancient sadness. Whereas before, the castle of the royal pony sisters had been warm and welcoming, even if ruined, now it was foreboding and brooding. Without the ponies to keep the animals in check, some of the nastier species were moving in to make the best of the unexpected smorgasbord. Sharptooth had made a note on the map he was making for his mother; Everfree Forest: danger, do not enter. She laughed at his glyph-scripts. In ancient times they had used pictorial representations of dragons for danger. Now, however, 'here be dragons' had an entirely more straightforward meaning.

"So... is this where we're gonna live, mama?" Sharptooth asked, gesturing around what was fast becoming the trade-district of the inner city.

"No, little one. That is our destination." Shimmer Star pointed to a large building without a roof, still being constructed. It was a school-house, unfinished and open to the elements. Great stone blocks were being hauled into position by pegasi after being bucked straight out of the mountain and then carefully and painstakingly carved into the correct size and shape by earth ponies. Unicorns were fusing the blocks together where the stone facade was visible, other craftsponies were painting, tiling or otherwise fixing and pasting. The entire city was alive, thronging with ponies, even though it was far less than even half finished. Back in the Everfree, it would have been a disaster, but here in Canterlot City it was just a minor inconvenience at worst, and a teaching aid at best. Canterlot would receive no rains for many years, not until all the buildings had been completed, the pegasi were doing their best to make sure of that. A huge cloud base had been constructed and was more or less anchored off the mountain peak. More and more pegasi were spending their time upon it, and the nascent cloud city was growing rapidly. Made of compressed cloudstuff, the wind did little to move it, and its creation kept the rains away as would-be thunderheads were absorbed into the collective. There were even hushed talks of lightning-powered hotspring baths and steam-rooms, and other water-based attractions, which would surely be the envy of any ground-based pony. Sharptooth dearly wanted to see it for himself, but couldn't quite fly. Truth be told, he barely had gliding down. He also wasn't sure if dragons—or at least whichever sort of dragon he was—possessed the same cloudwalking abilities that pegasi and griffons did.

"I'm gonna live at the school? Aww Mooommm!"

"Don't you 'aww Mom' me, Sharpie. You'll go to school just like every other foal, and you won't be spared homework. I can also guarantee you'll never be late with it."

♠♣♥♦

Shimmer Star opened the door carefully. In the flickering, dancing light of the firefly-lantern, the unicorn could just about make out the snoring form of Sharptooth. He'd fallen asleep at his desk again. She momentarily worried if she was giving him too much homework, pushing him too hard, but then her attention was caught by the drawings. Tenderly, she levitated the dragon into the air and, curling him up into a comfortable ball, deposited him in his weyr. The little dragon had taken to sleeping in a small, hollowed-out depression in the ground. He only ever used his bed for jumping off of, and for hiding things under. She'd put a stop to that by getting him a walk-in closet which contained what few clothes a dragon needed, plus a growing amount of things that belonged to his own personal hoard.

The drawings were a new capability, true creations. They were of strange flying machines; some looked like birds, others looked like dragons, still others looked like pegasi. Some were just winged boxes and kites. She shuffled and collected the papers carefully and slipped them into a drawer in his desk. There were other drawings in there too, and a hefty wave of embarrassment washed over her as she realised she was prying into the private life of her son by looking.

She closed the drawer smartly, but couldn't help trotting into his hoard to organize his clothes a little. She chuckled at the eclectic mix of belongings. It had started small, knives, forks and spoons going missing from all over the school. There weren't many, most were used by the cooks to prepare the food as the majority of ponies could only use the ones with hoof-bands. She had discovered a pile of the shiny objects under his bed, along with a decorated plate or two, and had had stern words with him. He'd not known it was stealing, they'd seemed free for the taking, certainly everypony took them when they needed them. It just hadn't clicked that they were needed to eat off of and were returned after, and that his keeping them wasn't the same kind of 'needing'.

Instead, the little darling had taken to drawing, and would happily draw or sketch something for her in return for an addition to his hoard, be it a butterfly or a strange rock, or a few strands of her mane or tail. It had taken an exercise of will to persuade him that his schoolbooks were not hoard material, so he'd taken to expanding on the tome of dragons she was slowly compiling. As she filled in one scroll with her odd mix of maps, lore, biography and geography, he would copy it out onto proper pages and secret away the original. He wildly enjoyed the originals, as they were a journey unto themselves. Following the map, from beginning to end, would teach the reader along the way about the world of Equestria and the strange creatures within, weaving tales about draconic lore, their physical makeup and capabilities, and their customs and mores. Sharptooth's take on the piece was far less art and far more factual, but it was much better for reference material.

She smiled, the child had large dreams. A hoof gently touched the Arcanum E Draconus, with its thick, red kelp-leather bindings which would one day be sealed in place. The only book like it, as far as she knew, in all of Equestria. She had started to add to it herself, and each page she supplied made the little dragon's muzzle light up with joy.

♠♣♥♦

The chariot landed smoothly just outside of town. Sharptooth eased himself out of the construct and lumbered towards the large, strangely-fragrant burning pile. Townsfolk parted before him, he inclined his head reverently to them as he passed. Turning back to Hairpin, he requested she fetch his son. Now that Lord Diamond had arrived to greet the two newcomer dragons, his son would be permitted to do the same.

Sharptooth found the crowd thinning well before he came close to the two oversized creatures. His nostrils flared involuntarily, Wild dragons were known to be somewhat unpredictable, even those who had returned to civilisation. With this much meat on offer, he wasn't sure there wouldn't be a relapse. Such a thing would be... unfortunate. Two huge heads turned towards him, and the sharp snapping sound of bones being cracked and sucked dry of marrow ceased. The two dragons rose and stretched, and walked over to meet him.

"Greetings, Lord Diamond. I am Fangaur," the first, and largest, intoned. His coppery scales were stained red with blood, and pieces of bone with flesh still attached hung from his jowls. Sharptooth inclined his head.

"And I am Arganthious. Our emperor Quetzalcoatl sends his greetings to you." The second dragon's head snaked around, glaring into the crowd before seizing another morsel from the burning pile. Without further conversation, the amber-coloured behemoth continued feeding.

"Welcome, my brothers," Sharptooth said. "I am grateful for your fire. Will you share your feast?"

"We will share," Fangaur grudgingly replied. It was clear he would have preferred to eat his fill first, as was his right by simple virtue of his size, but then the emperor had welcomed them back from the wilds under the strict command to be sociable. Civilized dragons did not fight over food, though a ritual challenge and answer snarling match with some of the griffons had raised his spirits and satisfied his baser nature. He decided he liked griffons. The strange little creatures were delightfully direct, and all but fearless even in the face of his bluster and ire. They also hadn't shown overmuch interest in the meat that he and his brother had set burning, and when all was said and done, a fed dragon is a happy dragon.

The sudden swoop overhead of the chariot that had brought Lord Diamond brought Fangaur's guard up again momentarily. He rattled his tail-spines in warning before he realized what he was doing. He ducked his head in shame. "Forgive me, my Lord."

"There is nothing to forgive, brother Fangaur. May I present my son, the Lord-Elect of the Sapphire Reaches?"

"M-may I approach, Lord Diamond?" Chip stuttered as he made the required obeisances, disentangling himself from the conveyance. He eyed Hairpin for support, nervously. She had trotted off to park the chariot without a second glance at the two huge dragons. Chip turned back, the ritual request was granted with a small nod of his adoptive father's head. Chip trotted closer and stood before Fangaur, who seemed the larger. A head almost as big as his entire body snaked down for a closer look. Suddenly the dragon lunged. Chip's ears splayed back as Fangaur snagged a body from the fire. The dragon tore off a piece, holding down the rest with his claw. Chip gulped, and decided being sociable was not only polite but a really good idea as he bit off a piece of barbequed diamond dog. He had known there would be a funeral pyre and feast, but he hadn't known the two would be one and the same.

He was halfway through what appeared to be a forearm, contemplating on the odd gamey taste and the feel of bone against his teeth, before he realized what he was doing. By then it was pretty much too late. He eyed the grinning skull of his meal and felt decidedly green, but didn't really have much choice except to carry on. He wasn't sure who it would be more impolite to should he stop, the dragons or the ex-diamond dog.

As he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, he caught himself baring his teeth in preparation to, of all things, defend his meal. For a moment, the mostly foreign emotion of anger flowed through him, and it left him feeling rather disoriented and odd. Turning, he realized that it was Hairpin approaching. She was carrying a large wooden bowl in her muzzle, full to the brim with bread, fruit and vegetables. Trotting smartly passed Chip, who she bowed her head to, she moved straight towards Fangaur and secreted herself between his foreclaws. Making herself comfortable, she settled down to eat. Instead of being snapped up as an hors d'oeuvre, the pegasus was groomed by the huge creature and then summarily ignored.

Chip was about to ask Sharptooth about this behaviour when four winged forms backwinged to land and a fifth hooved form trotted over. Fangaur and Arganthious both hissed warnings. To his surprise, Chip found himself neighing loudly in challenge. Far from causing more problems, the two huge dragons bent back down to eat, though their ears and head-spines both flicked up. Chip flicked his own ears about in confusion. The presence of the two titanic beasts was sending him uncomfortable mixed signals.

"Hey dweeb," Carmine said as she padded over towards Chip. "Second time you've invited me to a draconic shindig. Plan on making a habit of it?"

Before a blushing Chip could manage a retort, Sharptooth made introductions. "Brethren, may I welcome Carmine Wildfeather and Bethany Lionstuft of the Tacksworn Griffon Protectorate, Clan-Chief Thrinn of the Protectorate Council, and Bright Pinion and Isabella Liriope of Equestria? My friends, these are Guardians Fangaur and Arganthious of the Draconic Hegemony. We eat as one clan this night, we share these kills, we share this honour as we have shared blood."

Peering over the gargantuan foreclaw of Fangaur, Hairpin rose with her bowl. She placed it on the ground before the two ponies and trotted off.

"Where's she going?" Chip hissed to Sharptooth.

"To feed her master's friends first, my boy, as it should be."

Sure enough, the pegasus returned with two bowls of food on her back. Using a wing, she flipped them expertly to the ground in front of Bella and Penny before snagging her own food and hastening back to the safety of her nest between the claws of the mammoth dragon.

"Eat, eat!" urged Chip, grinning like a maniac. "These two are sticklers for protocol. You want them to be offended?"

Bella and Penny shared a look, shook their heads, and inched over to their food bowls. Carmine and Beth for their part just fluffed up their feathers and squawked raucously at the two dragons, who snarled back at them. Chip almost christened the desert sands, but it seemed to be the right response.

"Dragons. Never thought those etiquette lessons Pops drilled into me would come in handy."

"You mean you're supposed to challenge them for your share of their kills? Could've warned me!"

"For a dragon," Carmine said as she chewed noisily, "you don't know very much about dragons."

Chip frowned and sulked, but couldn't stay mad for long. In the grisly, macabre firelight of the burning barbeque funeral pyre, the griffon slyly entwined her tail with his. It was where nopony could see it, of course, but it was there, all the same.

♠♣♥♦

Sharptooth carefully stepped on each small, marble step as he made his way around the inside of the circular building. The years had passed slowly for the hatchling, but he had to admit he had grown. His mother was no longer the giant she had seemed at first, and now he dwarfed her. He was now far too large to ride upon her back, though he still fondly remembered when he used to. The school wasn't completed, it would take a few more years yet even with the incredible ability of teams of ponies working together to manage what would otherwise have been impossible. Canterlot would most certainly not be built in a day, but it was already a community, not simply a building site. What had been completed for his family in particular was something at once both grander and simpler than Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. It was a tower, perched high amongst the spires of the growing complex of Canterlot Castle, the keep at the centre of a new, burgeoning Equestria.

He climbed it now, one step at a time. He could have flown to the balcony, but that always seemed to be an insult to the craftsponyship of the building. Besides, it gave him time to think and clear his head. Dragon foot-claws weren't really all that well made for pony-sized steps and he didn't really want to ruin the marble finish, but his progress was solid. Every full rotation, there was a new doorway leading to the central room of that floor. Sharptooth wanted the last room, the one they had called the Eyrie. It was situated at the very top and had no door.

His mother, one of the original founding teachers of the new school for the gifted, recognized a dragon's need for solitude even as she, herself, looked for a more secure place for her writings. Some weren't quite ready for prying eyes yet, whilst others Equestria itself was not quite ready for. Thus, the tower served several purposes; it was his, his mother's and his father's home, their collective library, and a vault, the site of his hoard. It was also tall, one of the tallest and highest buildings in Equestria. On the balconies spaced around each side, one could see to what felt like the far edges of the Realm. Sharptooth knew better, of course. Still, it was just this view that he needed.

It was several hours later when the soft clip-clop of hooves on marble roused him from his work. A gentle nudge of his mother's muzzle under his wings made him look down from his easel.

"Mother! What are you doing all the way up here?" Sharptooth placed his compass and etching tools down on the easel and hugged the pony gently.

"Can a mother not visit her son from time to time? Especially when he lives in the same building." Shimmer Star head-butted the recalcitrant Sharptooth.

"Not in your condition," he admonished. Running his claws gently over her flanks, he looked her seriously in the eyes. "When is my little brother due?"

"A few weeks yet, my love. I am no invalid, ponies have been having offspring since before Equestria itself was founded."

"Yes, but none of those were my mother." The dragon broke off from his sketching entirely to fetch a large comfortable divan. Shimmer Star gratefully sank her bulk into it, angled to keep her eyes on the dragon and his artwork. Pregnant ponies were more or less unaffected by their condition, unlike some other animals, but keeping the weight off their ankles and hooves was always a good idea.

Shimmer glanced around the Eyrie. "I love what you've done with the place, son."

The dragon chuckled. "Most of it isn't my doing, I have more of a technical appreciation for lines than any ability with colour. The few, more artistic ponies who visit their substitute teacher can't resist adding something. I think they see it as a challenge, or their duty."

"Celestia tells me your thesis will be on topological thaumatics," the unicorn mare said. "Tell me of it." She yawned, shuffling about until she was comfortable.

"Trouble sleeping again?" Sharptooth asked with a grin.

"You wound me, Sharpie. Humour your old mother."

"You are neither wounded nor old, but I will tell you a little of my findings." The dragon strolled over to a large desk, and dragged it to the middle of the room, angled so that it was properly in view. "Do you remember our first trip back to Onyxious? When we got lost?" The dragon set up a small chalkboard, sketching an outline of Equestria, quickly yet cleanly.

Shimmer Star nodded. "We were almost devoured by Timberwolves."

"Well, that was through no fault of our own. The world has shifted, Mama, and we didn't notice. I dare say if we lived down there, we'd have been fine, but the paths between Canterlot and the Southern Desert no longer meander through exactly the same environs. Something new has appeared in the South East, and it has moved the Southern Ocean Westwards, twisting the geography of that entire region." The dragon super-imposed, in a new colour, a similarly-shaped landmass which was both bigger and strangely bent and twisted, marking duplicate points for known towns and villages, in new places.

"It affects not only the land, but also the sky. I have measured several degrees of displacement of the stars in a specific, relatively small patch of the sky from their positions in my youth. It has happened relatively recently. Equestria is not only bigger, but it is a slightly different shape. I intend to ask Celestia about it, but whilst I cannot yet fathom their nature, I have ascertained that there are large, powerful spells laid upon these lands by a person or persons unknown. The further one gets from the center, the less... uniform the realm is. Time itself as well as space is... bent, fractured."

Shimmer Star bit her lip. "What does this mean for us? For Equestria?"

Sharptooth shook his head. "Fear not. These spells are titanic, far beyond anything I've ever encountered, and they are in no danger of collapse. Their nature is so intrinsic to this land that it may be they form part of the fabric of this world itself. They have, as far as I can tell, always been in flux. Quite likely they can never be rendered fully stable over their entire operating area. I intend to investigate this situation by developing a new branch of thaumatics to deal with topological interrogation and delineation."

"You're going to make a magic map," Shimmer Star said, chuckling to herself.

"Aww Mom! It's not a magic map!" Sharptooth stomped a claw.

"Oh?" Shimmer Star grinned widely.

"Okay, fine." Sharptooth's ears drooped. "it's a magic map, but... that's not the point! It's... it's..."

"It's a fine endeavour, my bonny boy, and I'm sure you will succeed in it."

♠♣♥♦

There is an old saying in Equestria, let sleeping dragons lie. It's applied to any number of animals, but when it's applied to dragons, they really mean it. So it was that Chip found his eyes opening as the very late morning sun finally rose high enough in the sky to send its jolly, warm and overall bright rays of light into his face. As the sounds of an entire town full of ponies, griffons and diamond dogs filtered through his perceptions, he realized that he and his friends had been given a late morning. Memories of the night before began to surface, he remembered there had been music. There had been food. There had been dancing. By a few small odd cuts in some specific places, it seemed there had been kissing too. His cheeks glowed at the thought of it.

There had also been alcohol of a sort, thanks to fermented cactus juice, and a wide variety of flavoured salt licks. Chip hadn't been allowed any, much to his dismay. Even attempts to assert his lord-hood hadn't been enough to sway Sharptooth. Still, as with every young person after a night of frivolity, Chip found himself checking his physical situation. All four legs? Check. Tail and mane? Check. Orientation? On back, all four legs in the air. State of room? Error: room not found. Memory returned; he'd fallen asleep in an oversized pile of draconic indolence. Normally, the lateness of the year and the openness of the desert skies would have ensured an uncomfortably cold night. None of that had applied when sleeping in a pile surrounded by two huge ex-wild dragons.

Chip kicked about a bit and rolled over until he could get up. Shaking himself and stretching, he heard his bones and joints pop and crack. His mouth tasted funny and he needed a drink, but escaping the confines of the ring of dragons was going to prove difficult, unless he didn't care about waking anybody else. Ultimately it didn't prove to be an issue, his rousing disturbed the others, and the entire group were rubbing the sleep-dust from their eyes and staggering out into town within a few minutes.

Tacksworn in the morning was peaceful, but vibrant. Chip couldn't help but notice a change in the air. The army of diamond dogs which were still apparently at his disposal were already busy with their chores of replanting crops, rebuilding damaged shops and homes, and clearing away debris. They seemed less like an invading army and were well and truly on their way to becoming a part of the community. To their credit, or their shame depending on who you asked, the survivors who hadn't run off into the desert had been more for the running through town and making noise than any actual vandalism. Those who had sought to escape any punishment meted out by the townsfolk were being hunted down by Thrinn's army. The griffon clan-chief wasn't taking any prisoners, and packless diamond dogs rarely survived for long.

The funeral pyre had burned away to little but ash, fed as it had been throughout the night by the combined balefire blasts from the two oversized dragons.

Chip was left with the question of what now?

"Now, my son," Sharptooth said, the dragon sauntering up behind him, "we start again."

Chip hadn't been aware he'd spoken aloud, and wasn't sure what to reply. "How can we just start again?"

"By just carrying on. It is what we do. It's what we always do, even dragons. You will go to school, you will grow, you will learn. I dare say the Irontail name may be seeing a resurgence in yourself and your cousin Sunshine Filigree, Irontails, both. It's an interesting world we live in."

Chip sighed. "I... am glad it is interesting." He started crying. He tried to hide it, but he couldn't. He sat down on his haunches, and tears ran down his muzzle. Instantly the dragon, with his one good wing and one good eye, was around him. The dragon's wings were soft and supple and ideal for hiding behind. "I didn't think I missed them any more," Chip wailed. "A-and the worst thing is, I kind of don't. I mean I l-love them, but..."

"You're afraid to taint their memory by loving me too?" Sharptooth asked. The foal—the large, draconic, brave, fierce and heartbroken foal—nodded. Sharptooth just held him. "You cannot. This, I can assure you, I know."

"Please don't send me away again." Chip's reply was almost a whisper, plaintive and soft.

The dragon shook his head. "Things are moving fast, too fast, but neither of us have any choice. I was a fool, and we both paid for it."

"I don't have anybody else!" Chip wailed, his voice muffled beneath the dragon's wings.

"Neither do I. Nobody like you. My clan is old, and fractured. We never were ones for community. An oddball clan at the best of times, I am revered as the true lord of the Diamond Expanse, but truth be told even among dragons we are self-reliant. Our businesses and projects operate independently, and we meet but infrequently, even for dragons. I shall tell you a secret, little one." Sharptooth moved closer. "Amongst my own kind, I am considered merely a juvenile, barely out of teenage-hood. In a millennium or so, I will be expected to have settled down to serious pursuits instead of gallivanting around foreign climes and chumming with the natives.

"You, my dear boy, are taken as a good influence on my roguish ways. How successfully I raise you, my first born and now true child of my egg, cannot help but reflect upon my own worth as a dragon. If you're stuck with me, you can be sure I'm stuck with you. So come, we have time. You will tell me of your past and your parents and I will do my best to teach you about mine. Never fear of forgetting your birth-parents, I can assure you it cannot happen. You are also more than allowed to be happy, it's what they would want. Could you ever see them wanting you to be unhappy?"

Chip shook his head as he wiped his muzzle with a hoof, and Sharptooth smiled. "Then it is settled. We shall carry on, together. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Chip raised a hoof. The dragon shook it.

As their aimless walk took them further through town, Chip asked, "Tell me about the map. I... I know it's over, but tell me what it is. I've never seen anything like it. I gather there is nothing like it."

Sharptooth nodded. "The truth is that I made it, years ago. There is one other version, a much smaller and rougher copy, the spells upon it are far less refined, much coarser, though serviceable. Equestria is not as firmly set it stone as you may think. It is constantly in flux, and it is these fluxes which brought the griffons, us dragons and even the diamond dogs here. The Griffon Kingdoms are, to all intents and purposes, a part of Equestria. Their lands are distinct, with their own day and night cycle, but travelling there is nevertheless a simple affair. Leviathania, home to the dragons, is not so simple to get to. One must cross the wild spaces between realms, but these paths are open to all who are willing to try. The diamond dogs, though... my ignorance there burns me. I knew they were relative newcomers to Equestria, but the truth is more complicated than that. I thought they were seeking a way home—a way home which I accidentally discovered over half a millennium ago—but if the princess is right, and your friend Ruff's discovery of the tales of the high king strikes as big a chord as I think it might, then those who killed your parents were chasing after different dreams. Dreams are dangerous in the wrong claws, my boy, but they are also easily dispelled by the cold, harsh light of day."

Chip was silent for a few moments but then raised his head and asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that whatever legends the High King sprang from, they are less than bedtime stories for whelps. As quickly as empty promises of power and glory can raise an army of dreamers, once broken, those promises are discarded just as swiftly, if not more so. If you are worried, however, then I can give you the other copy of my map. I have a task for you."

"What?" Chip almost stumbled in shock.

"I want you to take Hairpin and travel to Neighvada. I need you to deliver the paperwork I've been going through to the correct authorities. There is no reason, however, that you should not indulge yourself a little." The dragon grinned, nudging his son in the withers. "Satisfy your curiosity and come back content with closure; whatever Path or Way it was that I discovered so long ago, I am sure it is as much a part of history as the map itself is. I can sense the yearning in you, my boy. After all that has happened, after all you have been through, you all need some time to relax. So take Hairpin and your friends and... have a holiday."

Chip walked on again for a few paces. "You're making Hairpin foalsit me," said Chip, pouting.

"I'm more than sure you can get into enough trouble even with her help, little one," Sharptooth laughed, tousling Chip's mane with a foreclaw, "but maybe she can get you out of it too."

♠♣♥♦

Time Enough For Love

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds

The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═════════════════════════════════════

Chapter 7
Time Enough For Love
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

Shimmer Star and Rainy Days looked up as one as the door to the dormitory slowly opened to reveal a hesitant green figure just outside. Shimmer's muzzle widened in a huge smile as she saw who it was.

"Sharptooth! Is it really you? Oh my bonny boy, you were gone so long! It's been almost five years!" She moved to get up, but at the gentle insistence of her draconic son, who rushed forwards and placed a large claw upon her withers, she lay gratefully back down, breathing awkwardly around the bulk of her belly. She was clearly tired, but in good spirits.

It warmed the dragon's heart to see her like this, even though he knew she was suffering with the latter stages of her second pregnancy. He idly ran a claw across the bulge, feeling an idle kick. He smiled warmly and sent his newest sibling a silent greeting. The green dragon then turned and embraced both of the two ponies, rubbing his blunt muzzle up against them one at a time. "Forgive me, Mama, Papa. Time for dragons—" He stopped when he saw their expressions, and hugged them harder. "Forgive me again, now isn't when you need to hear that."

"I always knew this day would come," cried Shimmer Star, her voice muffled as she sniffled, tears running down her muzzle.

"Shimmer, love, we can't stop our first born from growing up any more than we can stop the second, or the third... from being born."

Sharptooth dried his muzzle off surreptitiously on a curtain before turning back. "My... siblings are doing well?"

"Your brother, Autumn Days, is growing big and strong, just like his father. Your sister," Shimmer shifted her bulk again as she spoke, "is growing bored with her lack of space."

"She should be more patient, there is time enough for running and playing in the sun," stated Sharptooth. "It's something children easily forget as we seek to grow up. Forgive me, Mama, Papa. I won't squander the time we have."

"Oh my darling Sharptooth, there is nothing to forgive." The lavender mare nuzzled her large, scaly, green son affectionately. "We cannot stop you from living your own life, or from being the dragon we know you are."

"That's not a problem. I won't leave you again, Mama. I'll always be with you."

"But honey—"

Sharptooth shook his head as he stared into her eyes. "I will have time enough to... to live my own life, so I have enough of it to spend with my family." He hugged them both again, wrapping his wings around them. Hot tears fell down his muzzle as he mentally added, what little you have of it.

♠♣♥♦

Sounds. Pressure... pain! Bright lights and noise! Oh, so much noise! The warmth that had surrounded her was suddenly gone and everything was cold and mother was gone forever and strange things were touching her and she felt so alone and scared and—

"My, my," the midwife said, blinking to uncross her eyes, "she certainly has a good pair of lungs on her! Come come, let's get you to Mommy, little one. Do you think you can remain standing, Misses Star?"

"Yes, yes," Shimmer Star replied, flicking her tail in agitation. "I'm alright." She wobbled slightly, but had locked her legs and so remained upright. Childbirth was exhausting, and it had taken almost everything out of her. The squealing, crying bundle was placed in front of her hooves and she bent to lick her daughter clean. As the rough tongue dried and cleaned the newly-born foal, the bundle stopped screaming and started to hiccup, cooing and giggling softly.

"Good morning, Sparkle!" whispered Shimmer Star. She smiled and then lifted her head, looking at her husband and at her first-born - if adopted - son. "You can breathe now, sillies," she said, chuckling.

Sharptooth and Rainy Days both let out huge sighs and took in gulps of air.

"Was it like this the last time?" Sharptooth asked quizzically.

"Worse. I thought she was going to explode, and then the baby didn't cry and..." Rainy Days shivered, remembering.

"May I see her, Mama?"

"Come closer then, but not too close. You'll scare her, you great lummox. That's it little one, my Morning Sparkle, find your breakfast... oof! Ow... as gentle as your brother, I see... the horn makes it worse." Shimmer grinned weakly as the foal, on skittish and wobbly legs, found her way under her mother to her first meal. The little foal was golden, all over, like the morning sun. Her mane seemed to shimmer and sparkle in the afternoon light.

"She's gorgeous."

"Still, I think I'm glad I'm not a dragon. It's hard enough to feed one of these little monsters, let alone fifty!"

"Mother!" protested Sharptooth, "I wasn't that bad, was I? I don't recall your feeding me was all that... special."

"If you're feeling left out, little Sharpie, the other one's free."

"Eew! Mama! No! Eew!" Sharptooth stormed off to the other side of the room, where he glared out of the window with enough force to melt the glass should he so desire.

"Come come, you don't need to be jealous of your little sister. Or your brother."

"I just wish that one of them could have had wings," replied Sharptooth, wistfully.

"Flutter would have liked that, son. A dragon teaching her children to fly."

"I'll keep watch," Sharptooth whispered, almost to himself, "I promise, when I can, I will teach them."

"What was that, love?"

Sharptooth smiled as Shimmer Star yawned. "Nothing, Mama, nothing. Get some rest, I know sleeping standing up isn't quite as good, but you need what you can get. Papa and I will hold down the fort."

♠♣♥♦

"Crimson Dawn's Enchantment of Subtle Legibility, you say?" the grey unicorn asked, without looking up. He peered at the large mat before him, walking all around it with great interest.

"Yes, sir, and Snaffle Strap's Everlasting Ink, with Sprite Dancer's Flowing Threads of Plenty, and Shimmer Star's Heartfelt Keepsake Charm. Plus, of course, my own cartographic spells and meta-thaumatic manipulations. This map, made of magic woven into the very strands of the mat itself, is to date the most detailed and most thorough map of all of Equestria. Under the right thaumatician, it can be coaxed to provide a view of all known and – to a degree – unknown territories clear to the edges of the Realm of Equestria."

"My, my, my, this is... something incredible. We must investigate it further! Your work is exemplary, Sharptooth, but it is just the start! It is the start of a new age for Equestria!"

Sharptooth shook his head, sadly, "I cannot let you, sir. It is not for sale, it will not be gifted and it will not be examined. My work, I regret, must remain secret."

"What is this?" The grey unicorn stallion looked up finally, shocked. His peers, other members of the faculty of Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, murmured amongst themselves. "I object! Celestia shall hear of this!"

"Celestia is well aware, good sirs and ladies. Had I understood the nature of my work, I would have abandoned it long ago." Sharptooth looked around the room at the other teachers and members of the faculty. Many had turned out to see the first dragon graduate, but this strange turn of events was becoming far more interesting than even they had expected.

"I am sorry, master Comet Shine." Sharptooth moved to stand between the angry unicorn and the map, forearms crossed.

"Preposterous!" Comet Shine huffed, his voice echoing from the walls of the chambers. "May I enquire as to why?" His voice was curt and sharp.

"Because Equestria is not ready for it," replied Sharptooth, simply.

"You think yourself greater than the esteemed teachers within this school? You think us young foals, snot-faced and bandy-legged, prancing about in ignorance? I will have you know, young dragon, I am many times your age. If you presume—"

"Age is no substitute for wisdom, sir." Sharptooth snapped his claws, and the map disappeared in a brief flash of light. "It shall remain a part of my hoard until I decide otherwise. I shall make it available for viewings, strictly under my control, but no more."

"I will see you expelled for this! Failed! Summarily ejected!"

Sharptooth grinned, showing teeth. "I highly doubt it, Headmaster Shine. If that is all?" Sharptooth nodded to the rest of the faculty, before walking calmly from the room, leaving the elder stallion fuming.

♠♣♥♦

Autumn Days spat, and blood splattered on the flagstones. He neighed loudly and charged at his opponent, headbutting him and throwing the other stallion to the side. "Take it back! Take it back, Charger!"

"I won't!"

Autumn reared up, danced on his hooves, spun easily and bucked Charger in the side. Charger, for his part, leaped to his hooves as he rolled and bared his teeth, splaying his ears back.

"You're a liar, Autumn! You've never been flying! Liar, liar, tail's on fire!"

Autumn yelled angrily at the other foal and bunched up for a run at the dark maroon earth pony as a dark shadow flowed across the square, instantly silencing the crowd who were chanting Fight! Fight! Fight!

"THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH!" bellowed Sharptooth, snarling as tongues of flame licked around his muzzle. The crowd scattered, leaving the two combatants alone in the square. Both were breathing heavily, bleeding and scared out of their wits. "Would you care to tell me, brother dear, just what's going on?" The dragon glared at the suddenly recalcitrant golden-hued colt.

"H-he started it! He said you'd never taken me flying!"

"Well that was very foolish of him. Charger, isn't it? Listen, young foal. Do not judge a book by its cover. Appologize to Autumn, here. He has been flying with me many times. Though I believe he won't be for a while as he is grounded."

Autumn winced, ducking his head lower, looking at the red and white slabs that made up the now-vacant market square.

"Sorry, Autumn." whispered Charger.

"And Autumn, say sorry to Charger for fighting with him."

"But—"

"Now."

"Sorry, Charger."

"Good, now go home, Charger. If I hear of any more trouble, your parents will hear of it too. Clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Autumn watched as the other earth pony foal ran as far and as fast as his legs would carry him. Sharptooth shook his head in disbelief. "Didn't the foal know?"

"He didn't believe me," sniffed Autumn, wiping a hoof across his muzzle. It came back red. "You s-spend all day up at Canterlot City and I'm d-down here and—"

Sharptooth sighed as Autumn started snivelling. He hugged the pony tightly. "Come on. I tell you what, I won't tell Mom if you don't. Maybe you and I should spend a little time together. Fighting's not something you should rush into, Dizzy."

"Aww! Don't call me that, Sharpie!"

The green dragon grinned, "Okay, okay. It's your first day at school, so I suppose you're grown up enough to be Autumn Days. Want a lift home?"

"Okay." The foal pouted, pawing at the flagstones angrily. He looked up at his older brother, "Is... is school going to be this awful all the time?"

"No, no," replied Sharptooth with a chuckle, "sometimes it's worse."

♠♣♥♦

Hats were thrown in the air and parents and other family members cheered from the square. They also cheered from the balconies and they cheered from the skies, their shouts echoing throughout Canterlot City as everypony celebrated not only graduation, but the start of summer. The loudest cheer of all was given by a green dragon with small white horns, twice the size of the largest pony. Shouting angry epithets and warnings to be more careful, pegasi dodged the several-foot high flame as it seared into the sky. Shimmer Star and Rainy Days both laughed, nuzzling each other.

"One more after this, love," said Rainy, sighing.

"Just the one. I still can't believe, Sharpie, that you thought sending him to school with a tail full of iron was a good idea."

"It would have been," protested Sharptooth. "Teaching him to fight would have taught him to avoid fighting!"

"With Autumn, I'm not so sure. He'll make a good guardspony though, but I doubt he'd make a good diplomat. I still find it hard to believe that my son is going to be an ambassador! I mean... there are thousands of dragons, aren't there? Not to say that you're not simply perfect, my bonny boy, but..."

Sharptooth chuckled, hugging his pony mother. Straightening up and twisting about to unkink his back, he flapped his wings. "I'm no ambassador yet. Besides, my place is here for now, helping you to teach the kids."

"Did you ever surrender that map of yours to those fools in the faculty?"

"No," Sharptooth laughed. "No, I didn't. And I never will. They would have to penetrate my hoard-room should they seek to defy me, and they know I would not forgive them."

Rainy Days laughed this time, nuzzling his son as Autumn returned to his parents, a fully-grown and graduated earth pony guard. "I remember how much you sulked before you could cast those ward spells, and the cleaners kept walking into the closet."

The dragon's ears drooped. "Aww Dad! You're embarrassing! Besides, they got their revenge. They lost the Arcanum E Draconus. You worked hard on that, Mama!"

"So did you, my son. I spent time and effort collecting the information and buying those pages, but you sorted out my notes! And your claw-writing is still far more legible than my hoof-writing or even horn-writing"

"Well I still have your notes, thank goodness. I'll have to make another copy, some time. It would help you in your teaching, mother."

♠♣♥♦

One of the proudest and yet saddest days of the lives of Rainy Days and Shimmer Star was when Morning Sparkle graduated from Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns. Only recently completed, the building was magnificent. The weather was perfect and Shimmer and Rainy's daughter was radiant.

Sharptooth hugged them both as they stood in a similar square up in Canterlot. "I knew she could do it."

"Our work here is done, son. Your old mother can die happily."

"Don't you dare speak like that, Mama! You're not old!" Sharptooth said as he pouted. "You're barely sixty!"

"Sixty years young, my love!" added Rainy Days, nuzzling the lavender unicorn gently. "And proud mother of three very successful young foals."

"Ahem."

"...Of two foals and a hatchling, then."

Sharptooth rolled his eyes as he welcomed his little sister back to their group. She was hardly 'little' any more, though. Sharptooth laughed to himself, Morning was approaching the same age that Shimmer had been when she had adopted him. With Autumn Days having flown the nest, only their eldest son still lived with them. Under any other circumstances, it would be seen as strange... but when their eldest son was a dragon, strange had to be a whole lot stranger.

The dragon turned back to his parents. "Come, Mama, Papa, time to have our celebratory meal at the tower. Autumn will be arriving this evening and I do so want everything to be ready."

"Don't Worry. You're a wonderful cook, son, even if you keep trying to get us to try those draconic spices. I'm sure crushed diamonds and amethyst are tasty to you, but to us ponies... not so much." Rainy Days laughed heartily, stomping his forehoof in mirth. He stomped it all the harder at the look on the dragon's muzzle.

"That was one time, Papa! I thought it was the salt!"

As the sun rose higher in the sky, the quartet moved homewards to their tower, laughing in the warm summer weather.

♠♣♥♦

The door creaked open loudly, startling the entire class. The door was relatively new and the hinges hadn't settled as the wood was still relatively green.

"I hope, young dragon, you have a reason for this?" reprimanded Shimmer Star. She stood up stiffly from her pose behind her large oaken desk. Sharptooth rushed to help her, but she waved him off.

"I do, mother. It's Cloudsdale... they're going to move it!"

Instantly, the classroom broke into excited chattering, and foals of all ages leaped to their hooves to press against the large windows.

"Children, children!" shouted Shimmer Star. Coughing slightly, she stomped a hoof. "If you will all form up in single file, we will go outside to see just what my errant son here is talking about."

There were excited titters as the large – to a pony – dragon wilted under the glare of his pony mother.

"They're moving Cloudsdale. The last house in Canterlot is ready, Mama, so the pegasi are free to move Cloudsdale where they wish. It will open up the farmland beneath the current shadow as well as allow them to send water and their best weather pegasi to anywhere in Equestria."

Shimmer Star smiled, flicking her ears in amusement. "A worthy reason to suspend lessons, then. Come, children. Spit spot, single file, after me. Lead the way, my bonny boy."

A large crowd had gathered in Canterlot and the surrounding city, and they were almost all looking upwards. For years, many years – the whole lifetime thus far of many ponies – Cloudsdale had been a fixed feature in the azure dome of the sky above Canterlot. Now, the white was speckled with colour as pegasus after pegasus leant his or her wingpower to moving the enormous cloud city. With whole flights of pegasi to call upon the wind, and others set to making sure the fluffy building blocks of the capitol city of the pegasi and other winged creatures didn't fall apart under the buffeting, the pegasus nation slowly but surely took flight.

It was slow at first, as it had to be. Cloudsdale was enormous, after all; it had even recently gained a rainbow waterfall that allowed the pegasi to create rainbows, glorious multi-coloured ribbons that were painted across the sky to mark the end of a rainfall.

Slowly but surely, with many false starts and excited premature cries, the entire collection of cloud-based structures was drifting further and further Westwards. As it began to pick up speed, the population of Canterlot started to cheer.

Even as the sky first cleared and, unsurprisingly perhaps, then grew dark again with rains as the pressure changes drew them in, the crowd of ponies turned into an impromptu street-party that grew all the louder and more boisterous as the first drops of rain in some thirty-odd years fell and washed through the masses. The rain fell in huge hot fat drops that cleansed the pelt as it rejuvenated the mind before flowing ever onwards to the distant sea.

"In all my life, I've never seen anything as amazing. It's like a dream come true!" Shimmer Star had tears in her eyes at the fulfillment of a life-long wish.

"Equestria grows, Mama, and changes. I think there will be many more such things in the future."

"My bonny boy," Shimmer Star said with a sigh, "I think such sights are for the children I teach, not for me. The future belongs to the likes of you, son."

Sharptooth bent to kiss the pony he called his mother, nuzzling her affectionately. His wing was extended, keeping the rain off her. "You have many years left, Mama, many long years. You and Papa both."

Shimmer laughed freely and happily as she started on the long walk home. "That's the sort of thing you youngsters say to old timers like your father and me, when still flushed with the luxury of youth. Let's go home."

♠♣♥♦

The door opened easily on well-oiled hinges, the door having seen many coats of paint and the hinges many more applications of oil. The floorboards shone with wax, and Sharptooth found he recognized every notch and mark. The dragon stooped to step through into the classroom. There weren't many dragons in Canterlot, and none of them were as big as he. He pushed the door closed, hearing the latch engage.

The class was silent, respectful. These were students of Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, not the boisterous and irreverent foals of yesteryear. Each and every one knew what a privilege it was to be in not only this school, but in Shimmer Star's class.

“Is there a problem? A messenger was sent for me.” Sharptooth spoke softly and easily. He was a familiar – if odd – sight throughout the halls of Canterlot's premier school, but he didn't want to excite the children overly.

“It's miss Star, sir, she's...” one of the foals, a copper-coloured unicorn, pointed helplessly.

Sharptooth followed the motion, to the corner of the room. There, reclining on cushions from where she gave her famous lectures, lay Shimmer Star. The aged lavender unicorn, now more grey than lavender, was snoring gently. The dragon truly looked at, for what felt like the first time in years, the unicorn he called his mother. She looked frail, aged and tiny. The hooves that had held him down and the muzzle that had resolutely groomed him seemed small enough to fit in his claw, now. He sighed, and took position behind the unused desk.

“If there are no objections, I shall hold today's class. I believe it was on intrinsic magic, yes?”

“Please, sir,” the copper unicorn asked, waving a hoof in the air.

“Yes, Bevelmiter, wasn't it?”

“Yes, sir. What is intrinsic magic? Miss Star said it was magic that... you don't have to learn, but I don't really understand why we've got to learn about it then.”

Sharptooth laughed, “We learn, children, because in advanced thaumaturgical studies, we will be delving deeper into manipulating such intrinsic qualities, and on bestowing them upon others.”

Bevelmiter's young face screwed up in concentration, “You mean, I could make a unicorn fly like a pegasus?”

“Not as such, though you could in theory bestow the ability to cloud-walk upon a unicorn or earth pony. Now, observe. A dragon, such as myself, does not need a horn to focus magic...”

♠♣♥♦

Shimmer Star opened her eyes and lifted her head with a start. The room was dark, with curtains drawn and a soft blanket pulled up to her ears. As she stirred, a large, winged shape nuzzled her affectionately.

“You were sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to wake you.” Sharptooth said.

“Did... did I miss the whole class?”

"Worse."

"The whole day?"

“You missed your whole retirement,” admonished the dragon softly. “Why didn't you tell me? I went to Celestia and informed her of my displeasure at your being worked so hard that you slept during classes, and she politely informed me that you'd been retired a month ago.”

Shimmer Star had the decency to look embarrassed. Then she started softly crying, “Please don't take this away from me.”

“But Mama-”

“I told you,” the unicorn's voice was weak, tired, “it's the thing that brings me most joy. Especially now, after your father...”

“Mother, you're sleeping in class! This can't go on!” the silence between the pair was charged and tense. Finally, Shimmer Star relented, seemingly folding in on herself. Gently, Sharptooth stroked her mane. “You have done so much, mother. You were Celestia's prize student and you almost single-hoofedly set the standards for higher education all across Equestria. Nopony could ask for more from you. Nopony at all. Your legacy will live on in the hearts and minds of todays youth, and the youth yet to be born, and for centuries to come.”

“A legend in my own lifetime. They think I battled Nightmare Moon, the foalish ponies. They tell of how I set off deep into dragon country, tamed a whole flight and brought them back to Canterlot to be pets. If the dragons ever hear of that...”

Sharptooth laughed too, his voice now a rich baritone, “My kind tell stories of how entire herds of ponies are enthralled by a cabal of dragons, pets for the young whom they serve selflessly. I think it amuses Celestia almost as much as it amuses me. You became an example, mother, of integration and strength. Dragons learning from ponies learning from dragons, yet another legacy. Please,” the smile left the dragon's muzzle, “please retire. I know just where we can go.”

“We? Don't you have your royal duties?”

Sharptooth shook his head, “I am still but a junior member of Celestia's court, and have yet to obtain my true place. I can travel where I please and be in any part of Equestria that matters in short order. I think I am deserving of a short holiday.”

“How short?”

“A decade or two, nothing much.”

♠♣♥♦

Most of the Everfree was dark, but the fireflies lit the paths as they had so long ago. Sharptooth wandered easily through the forest, thankful for the peace and quiet. Idly he remembered his youth, over a century ago. The spells he had cast kept his roads clear; no animal in the forest dared cross a dragon. His trip to the local village had been without incident; over the years they had grown used to his presence and would no longer run and hide, boarding up their doors and windows. The small package he held in his claws was a gentle but necessary potion for his mother Shimmer Star, the legendary unicorn of Canterlot. It eased her pain, and granted a little solace for the ailing mare.

His home clearing opened up before him, and the hut carved out of the tree welcomed him. The sun shone brightly here, through the hole in the canopy, and it was warm and dry. As he opened the door, the wind-chimes gently tinkled as they spun.

He'd tried to get his mother to live in the village, but she had flatly refused. Their time as a family amongst the dragons, before finally making their home in the Everfree, had changed her as much as his time amongst the ponies had changed him. She preferred the solitude and the silence as she worked on her final tome. Against all odds, the magically-inclined unicorn had turned to flowers and herbs, cultivating a small but successful garden among the trees.

“Mother?” called Sharptooth softly. “Mother?”

There was the familiar creak of a unicorn turning over in bed, “Sharptooth? Is that you?”

“Yes, Mama.” Sharptooth strode into the small dwelling and stoked the fire. The stones flared up, bringing more light.

“Did you find out where my Rainy has gone?”

Sharptooth winced. “No Mama, they... they said he'd be back soon, probably with Flutter.”

“Come closer, my boy, I can barely see you. You got back so late, it's dark already.”

Sharptooth looked around as the noon sun streamed in through the windows. He sighed and licked her muzzle as a foal would. “Sorry, mother.”

“Winter's come early, honey. It's a good thing dragons don't hibernate or I'd not see you 'til spring.”

Sharptooth sat on the end of his mother's bed, he chuckled good-naturedly, wiping at his eyes with a claw, “I told you long ago that I'd never leave you, Mama.” He sat there for a while, just listening as she breathed, with the package placed on the end of the bed, unopened. He recalled the day, long ago, when he had been rescued in a cave in the middle of the badlands by a pony, part of a trio who had just gotten out of their depth as they toured Equestria in search of lost knowledge and those who needed teaching, and how his life had subsequently changed. He owed this mare so much, he owed her his life, and it hurt so much to be here... but he would never leave, would never change things.

“Sharpie?” his mother called, finally.

“Yes, Mama?”

“I think I hear your father. Is... is that Flutter? I think... I think I hear Flutter and Rainy. They've come back! Oh, I've missed them so much!”

Sharptooth squeezed his eyes shut, “I know, Mama. I missed them too. Rest for a while, they'll... you'll see them soon.”

“It's so dark, son, and cold. It shouldn't be this cold so early in the summer.”

“Don't worry Mother,” Sharptooth clambered onto the bed, snuggling up next to the mare, “I'll keep you warm. And safe. You don't need to be afraid of the dark.”

The dragon lay there, listening, as the mare's laboured breathing grew shallower, and shallower, until finally... it stopped.

♠♣♥♦

Deep in the Everfree Forest, a stone's throw from an old and abandoned castle, stood a dragon. He had stood there all through the night, unsure of what to do. Before him were two small mounds of rocks; one was a few years old, with moss growing on it. It was all but lost, reclaimed by the forest. The other was new, the rocks scoured clean but wet with tears.

The dragon stood there, silently and unmoving, as Celestia's sun moved blithely through the sky, ignorant of the fact his world had ended. As day turned once more to night, Sharptooth found he couldn't hold in his grief any more. Throwing back his head, he roared his grief skywards. It burst out as a huge gout of flame that lit the heavens. His bellow echoed from the roots of the mountains to the dome of the sky and onwards across Equestria. As the great dragon leaped into the air, the last of his enchantments failed. The hut built out of the tree fell dark and silent, the firefly lanterns grew dim as one by one the fireflies within them dispersed and the paths that had been so obvious before, subtly shifted and faded away. The Everfree did what it always had, it swallowed up the past, but it could not swallow the memories.

♠♣♥♦

Far South of the Everfree, beyond the San Palomino Desert that held Tacksworn and Neighvada, beyond the badlands where few save dragons and diamond dogs dared to tread, Sharptooth landed in front of a large, dark cave set high in a mountain. As always, it was guarded by a great black dragon who reclined upon the ledge above the entrace.

"I see it is time, young dragon."

It looked like Onyxious hadn't moved since Sharptooth had last visited. For all the green dragon knew, he hadn't.

"It is. The last of the ties that have kept me in place this past century and a half are broken. I am now ready to be a dragon. Take me with you... father."

Onyxious was silent for a few minutes as he gave things his customary amount of thought, but finally he nodded. "You will travel with me to the court of the emperor and you will present yourself before him. There he will accept you into the hegemony, and a new chapter in your life shall begin."

Sharptooth nodded, and moved to take wing.

"First though, son, you will follow me."

Bemused, Sharptooth did as he was bid.

The two dragons flew slowly through the air. Sharptooth had half expected the sky to split asunder as it had so many times, before, but it did not. They lazily circled, catching thermals and updrafts which took them higher and higher. Sharptooth watched the world roll past beneath him as they headed up into the mountains. The clouds boiled and swirled as the dragons dove upwards, and suddenly the pair broke through the curtain of grey into powerful sunlight. Snow capped the mountain peaks, brilliant fingers of gold and silver that flared and twinkled in the distance. Sharptooth marvelled at the ocean of white, stretching off into the distance, wondering at the lonely emptiness of it all. This was pegasus or griffon territory, yet... there was an aura that Sharptooth found at once familiar and terrifying.

The cave was simple and unmarked, hidden in a crevasse which kept it from view. Onyxious landed far clear of it, and walked in with wings furled. Sharptooth followed the motions of the elder dragon.

The sense of age as he entered was palpable, though it wasn't the cave itself which exuded it. Sharptooth growled in surprise as Onyxious waved a claw, and the cavern in the mountains danced in the light of hundreds of torches as they burst into flames. Lit up by the flickering yet strangely intense torchlight lay the corpse of a titanic, silver dragoness. She dwarfed even Onyxious, huge even as she was curled up, as if in sleep.

As Sharptooth watched, the dragon seemed to move. He had to rub his eyes and blink, because the dragoness was dead, he could tell that, but yet it was if she moved. It was like an after-image, a memory of her being in a different position. When he looked again, she was still curled up, but still the humongous form towered above him, her breath hot and pungent around him. With the strange, unearthly sight, came her voice.

"Ah, my son. My last, first-born son..."

"M-mother?" Sharptooth trembled. His entire body was the size of her muzzle, one of her teeth alone was big enough to spit him.

"You survived, my child..." The voice was like the memory of a whisper, echoing solely in his head.

"I... I did, mother. A-and I c-came home. To you."

"You are a dragon, my child. You are always home. Remember me, little one, Lord of the Diamond Expanse. Remember... me..."

The disturbing vision faded. One by one, the torches extinguished. As the bright light was methodically replaced by stygian darkness, it seemed as if the corpse became just another forgotten pile of old bones and flesh. Whatever spirit or shade had inhabited them had passed on. Sharptooth ran outside, followed by Onyxious who moved at a much more respectful pace.

The smaller green dragon was breathing hard, and his eyes were wild as he looked up at Onyxious. "What was that?"

"Your mother died, son. A century of dying... I told you time was different for us dragons. She died a century ago, and it has taken this long for the last of her fire to be extinguished."

"A-and... Lord of the Diamond Expanse?"

"She has named you her heir," replied Onyxious simply, bowing his head. "None will dare challenge the last dying wish of one such as she."

Sharptooth slumped, falling to the ground. "What do I do now?"

"I think you know what to do."

"WHY MUST YOU SPEAK IN RIDDLES!" shouted Sharptooth, spurting flame from his nostrils. He clenched his claws into a fist, turned, and with a single motion brought forth his will. Magic flared in his grasp, and with a rumble that seemed to split the mountain asunder, the cave entrance collapsed. For many long minutes, rubble rained down around the pair of dragons as Sharptooth buried a parent for yet a third time. Finally, when his rage had subsided, the green dragon unclenched his fist and the aura of magic faded.

"That, young dragon, was the response worthy of a dragon lord. You cannot truly be lead to dragonhood, you can only be shown the way and left to travel the path alone. Dragons rarely ask, they do. In all things, my son, know that you are the sole heir and lord of the Diamond Expanse. It is for others to request of you, and for you to grant and deny their wishes as you see fit."

"Then I will present myself to the dragon emperor, father... but I would welcome your patronage."

Onyxious smiled, bowing his head. "It shall be as you wish, my son."

♠♣♥♦

Journey's Call

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds

The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═════════════════════════════════════

Chapter 8
Journey's Call
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

Chip opened one eye. Strange little whuffling noises were emanating from the head of the bed, mixed with peculiar little chirps. For a few seconds, he couldn't remember who he was, or where he was. Room, bed, comforter- these things were obvious and familiar but the rest...

It slowly dawned on him that he was in his own bed. Not the sofa he had occupied for the last couple of days, not the giant four-poster in the mansion long turned to ash, but his own bed. Worn from years of bouncing, with the two broken boards and the stuffing lumpen and uneven, and the springs that had seen better days, it was his own bed, in his own room, in his own house.

For a single, brief moment, he was at peace.

It didn't last.

Tears sprang to his eyes as painful memories resurfaced. He tried to rub a hoof against his cheeks without disturbing the snoring lump of feathers known as Carmine, but he wasn't entirely successful.

"Beth has nightmares, you know," whispered Carmine in the close half-light. The bed shifted with a soft creak as the lithe female griffon stirred. She had come awake silently, like the predator she was, and had lain quietly listening.

Chip paused, stricken, mid-wipe. "W-what?" he replied, in a similarly low tone of voice.

"A wild storm took her father, Ferrak. It dropped him into the middle of a hydra nest. He... he didn't make it out." Carmine looked away and her voice tailed off, before she took a deep breath and continued in a soft, sibilant whisper.. "She has nightmares about it, as the hydras tear him apart. Sometimes she dreams it's her. Don't tell her, she'd never forgive me... but I think you needed to hear it."

Chip buried his face into the blanket. "I see them too, you know." His voice was muffled and indistinct, but Carmine could hear him well enough. "I imagine they're trapped in the mine still, beneath the ground, and... I just can't get to them in time."

"I wish I could help, Chip," said Carmine. She placed a claw on his withers. "I wish I knew what to say to make it better."

"Don't say anything. You can't say anything." Chip brought his head up and looked away, out of the window at the full moon. It hung like a pristine jewel in the night sky. Choking tears back, he tried to hide them still. He rolled off the bed. "I used to look out this window," he said, his voice hoarse and strained. "I would spend all night here on Hearth's Warming. They had a big parade, and we would... we would..." He stopped, the tears blinding him. He screwed his eyes shut so Carmine wouldn't see. Warm, comforting feathers covered his back as the griffon leaned up against him.

"You should be without that armour of yours more often," said Carmine, weakly. Chip, for an answer, buried his head in her neck. The feathers fluffed up around his muzzle and tickled his nose, but he didn't care. "If..." Carmine began. She cleared her throat and tried again. "If you'd like, sometime, you know, you could... come stay with us. Once you get your wings fixed. For Hearth's Warming—"

"That's a time for family, Car," interjected Chip, his voice muffled now by several layers of feathers.

Carmine fought the urge to giggle, his hot breath tickled her neck. Reflexively she curled her head against his. "And friends. Bring Sharptooth."

"I'd like that. I think he'd like that. Dunno what you'd feed him though."

"Beryl's Rabbit Surprise." Carmine laughed out loud at Chip's bemused expression, which set the young colt laughing too.

Finally, the colt asked, "Who's Beryl again?" which set Carmine laughing once more, choking as she tried to explain about her favourite eatery back in Tacksworn, and the owner's peculiarities. They stopped laughing, the guffaws turning to nervous titters, when the door opened on noisy hinges.

The protesting squeak caused both Chip and Carmine to turn in surprise. There in the doorway stood a diminutive diamond dog, wearing a striped set of pyjamas complete with night-cap. He was clutching in his paws what appeared to be a beige, roughly pony-shaped stuffed toy, with matching pith helmet. He quickly hid it behind his back and asked in a loud voice, "What you two up to?"

"Sorry," Chip replied, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, "Car was just... funny joke. Hehehe."

"No, I mean—erk!" Ruff found it very hard to speak all of a sudden, as a winged pony-shaped form grabbed him by his collar and began hauling him out of the room.

"Sorry, Master, we'll leave you and Mistress Carmine alone," said Hairpin a few moments later, as she poked her head gingerly into the room. Her eyes twinkled as she shooed the little dog-troll away.

"What? Wait, that's not—" The door slammed in Chip's face as Hairpin retreated down the hallway. He head-butted it in resignation.

Carmine rolled her eyes, barging past him to open it again. "Come on, dufus. You've woken me up now. Time to go hunting."

"Hunting? I, er..."

"In the kitchen. You've got to have something there we can eat."

"Right," answered Chip as the bedroom door was opened again and he forced himself to hurry up after the striding griffon. "Kitchen, food, hunting, yes!"

"That is, unless you've got something better to do."

"Better?!" squeaked Chip. Carmine nodded, grinning.

On squeaky hinges, the door shut again.

♠♣♥♦

Chip yawned as he clip-clopped into the orderly kitchen. It was lit with fireflies that either Hairpin or Ruff had caught and placed in lanterns suspended from the ceiling. They produced a welcome, soft glow that illuminated the small room. Ruff was sat on a stool, swinging his hind legs. Hairpin stood at a worktop, carefully stirring a pan full of a sweet-smelling malted beverage over a small gas-burner. She was quick and efficient; it had only been a few minutes since she'd been upstairs and the mixture was already starting to bubble.

"It's made with water, Master, sorry. I found some powdered milk and sugar to add, but it's not the same."

Chip yawned again, eyes brightening as he smelled the familiar mixture cooking on his parents' camping stove. He sleepily pulled up a stool at the table, knocking his saddle-bags off it from where he'd hastily dumped them the previous night. Grumbling, he got back up to lift the supplies which had scattered across the floor. For the sake of interest, he unrolled the strange map he'd borrowed from his adopted father after he'd replaced the rest of his goods. Placing a couple of empty bowls upon the corners to keep it open, Chip peered down at it sleepily, still yawning.

"Can't sleep either?" asked Hairpin, gently.

"No, we slept, but–" Chip stopped, splaying his ears out and blushing. "I mean, uh, we... didn't... I mean we did..." He nickered loudly, skittering, as Carmine punched him in the haunches.

"Relax, Master. I could hear you two snoring," Hairpin laughed around the handle as she picked up the wooden spoon again in her muzzle. She gave the pan a few more stirs, before turning down the heat so it didn't overboil. A few minutes later as she measured out some of the drink to all four occupants of the kitchen, she couldn't help but stare at the map. Mugs full, she took the pan to the sink. After flicking closed the water spigot with a hoof and swirling some cold water around in the pan, she trotted back to the table. "Tell us, then. What's so special about this map? Where are we going?"

"I think this map knows where things are," Chip said. He splayed his ears out again and blushed when Carmine rolled her eyes.

"Isn't that what maps always do?" retorted the griffon.

"No, I mean," Chip hastened to explain, "normally first you know where things are, right? And then you draw them down on a map. This... is the other way around. I think."

Hairpin bent over the map, head tilted as she looked at it. "We're here," she said, as she motioned with a hoof. "Tacksworn is there, Neighvada a ways South... there's Rein. Where are we going, then?"

"North, a bit. Not as far as the Badlands, up towards the mountains a little, here!" Chip pointed with a hoof. "I can't see what it's called. There's something written there, I just can't work out what, it's not in Equestrian."

"I recognize those symbols," Hairpin said, as she followed his hoof to the point in question. "Every pegasus gets a little bit of weather training, you have to know how to read the wind even if you don't end up manipulating it, you know? I've seen them, but I've never seen them used quite like that before... it's a set of instructions. The symbols themselves point the way as well as how to get there." The pegasus looked closer still, turning her head this way and that to get a better look in the faint, flickering light.

"Instructions?" asked Carmine.

"Yes, it says – if I can freely translate, they're not supposed to be read aloud as such – ride the thermals around the mountain three times... well it says 'updraft-thermal-rise thundercloud-mountain-no-carry' and uses the sign for a cumulo-nimbus, and it indicates this mountain," Hairpin tapped the map gently, "as the symbols are repeated around it anti-clockwise three times... but you get what I mean. I hope."

"I guess so, kinda. Keep going." Chip took a sip of his drink. It was a little too hot, but as it warmed his insides, he began to feel more relaxed. He yawned, noting that Ruff and Carmine both yawned after. He chuckled softly to himself and continued listening to Hairpin.

"...Fly over the lake and up the river, through the valley with the dangerous crosswinds, I think it means we actually have to fly low or walk. If we go too high, it's somehow wrong. Then it says, and this is weird, fly under the storm to rise through the rain-eye and then back down to the..." Hairpin paused.

"What?" asked Chip and Hairpin both. Ruff studied her face and then the map.

"Well, it says cloud-home rock-wall mist-valley-water. I guess it means there's some sort of village hidden by mists in the hills, but... cloud-home is being prefixed with something that means invisible zephyr, and invisible isn't exactly right either, it's more like a warning. I think once we get close, we'd better land and walk. I don't know why it thinks there's a storm there anyway."

"Dad did say we had to follow the instructions closely. We're going to have to be careful, to stick close to each other, or we'll get lost. I wouldn't want to lose you guys."

"Aww, that's sweet, Master," said Hairpin, giving Chip a motherly kiss on the ears as he yawned again.

Chip nickered in agitation, flicking his ears about mid-yawn. "Stop that! And I told you to call me Chip!"

"Yes, Master," replied Hairpin, kissing him on the ears again.

Chip blushed and scowled, much to the amusement of the rest of the little group. Chip huffed and slurped his drink.

The door to the kitchen swung open as Beth and Bella stormed in. Bella's horn glowed softly as she lit the way. Beth, for her part, looked somewhat worse for wear. "Alright, what's the hubbub about? Sun's not even up."

"Need your beauty sleep?" squawked Carmine, ducking as Beth swiped at her with a claw.

"Calm down girls, just a little midnight snack. I'll make a fresh batch," interjected Hairpin, as she pointed to some more of the low stools. Beth and Bella both yawned in appreciation as they sank into them. Hairpin bustled around the kitchen, collecting more ingredients to make another pan of the warm, tasty beverage. She dug out some cookies from somewhere, which were quickly partaken of by Ruff.

Chip happily reached out for one as it came his turn. As his hoof touched the jar, though, he paused.

"What's up, Sugar?" asked Hairpin, as she noticed the faraway look in her master's eyes.

"My... parents bought those," replied Chip weakly, as he turned back to the jar. His hoof stroked the smooth, creamy glaze absent-mindedly.

Ruff choked, and tried to swallow the half-cookie he still had in his muzzle and hide the other three as quietly as possible. Chip looked over at him and shook his head.

"No, no, that's not... they're for eating, you know? That pan, the cups, th-the table..." Chip found his eyes wet with tears again, but he carried on. "My family sat here. The last time I sat here, I was with my family. And... now I'm with a new family. You guys are my family, right?"

Hairpin looked down at the colt perched awkwardly on the stool, and entwined her neck with his. "Of course we are. We all are. That's why we're all here, with you."

"I don't want..." Chip breathed in heavily, sucking air through his teeth as he fought to keep his eyes clear. "I don't want to lose you guys. That's why we've got to work together, okay? To end this. We're going to follow this map to where it leads, and... and end it. Somehow. Okay?"

The replies from his friends warmed his heart.

"You're one of our flock, Chip," Carmine said.

"One of the girls," sniggered Beth, though Chip laughed with her.

"Thanks, Car, B. That means a lot."

"Ruff likes having you in his pack," the troll said, wagging his tail. "Like Daring Do, always needs friends."

Chip sat back as they all took a long look at the map between them. Pulling the wide-based cookie-jar towards himself, he teased a cookie out with a hoof and watched it right itself with a wobble. Chip shook his head, tossing his mane about. He was home, not because he was in his parents' house but because he was with his family, and when he was with them, home could be anywhere.

♠♣♥♦

Bethany squawked faintly as she yawned, her unkempt feathers fluffing up around her neck as she tensed. She missed her nest; pony beds were too soft. She resigned herself to go hunting for things to make a nest out of for the next night, if possible. The sun was high, far higher than it would have gotten before she would have been roused at home. Morning brushing for ponies was quite an involved affair compared with diamond dogs, but morning preening for griffons was even more of a chore – probably as much as it was for pegasi, which was irritating, because Bright Pinion was somehow already up and about. Penny was as cheerful and chirpy as a newborn chick, the copper-coloured pegasus with the flame-red mane bouncing around the room in breathless abandon.

"Slow down, Pen," Beth griped, "you're making my head spin. Any faster'n my beak'll fall off. What's got you so excited?"

"Oh isn't it exciting, though! So much stuff to find! Chip said we're to look for anything important – papers, books, receipts, things like that. You know what that means!"

"Treasure hunting?" groaned Beth. "Haven't you grown out of that?"

"Oh come on, B! Just like we used to! It's how I got my cutie-mark, after all, don't you remember?"

"I remember a long day digging for grubs in the desert, and both of us getting grounded by our parents when we didn't come home in time."

"Yeah! Wasn't it great?"

Beth chirped out a giggle. "I suppose it was, hay-breath."

"Well come on then!"

"Breakfast first. Can't go treasure-hunting on an empty stomach, and that snack last night—"

"What snack?" asked Penny, rustling her wings as she eased out of a too-small cupboard. "You had snacks without me? Totally unfair!"

"You were asleep. Chip and Car woke me and Bell up." Beth raised her head-feathers and clicked her beak suggestively.

"Ooh! Dish! What were they doing?"

"Not sleeping, I'll say that."

Penny shrieked with delight and danced on all four hooves. "Oh I'm so glad! They're so cute together, just like you and Thorn!"

"Oh, get out!" Beth threw a pillow at the recalcitrant pegasus with a flick of her claws, and set to angrily preening as she heard the bubbly pegasus trot along the hallway and down the stairs.

An hour later, feeling almost presentable, with her pristine white head-feathers gleaming brightly and her golden-brown leonine pelt well-brushed and sparkling, Beth pulled open her bedroom door to find the house in uproar; Ruff was running up and down the halls with various toy chariots and action figures alternatively making them shout or explode, Bella dove past in the corridor, levitating bundles of papers around for Chip to decide on their relative importance, and the two pegasi were refiling the unimportant ones with Carmine making a small pile of those that Chip deemed noteworthy.

"Hey Beth!" chirped Chip. "Wanna help? You can just go find stuff and drag it in here if you want! Or I guess you could wash up..."

"Do the dishes? Me? I do not 'wash up'." Beth stalked off, head and crest-feathers held high. It was all far too much of a commotion, this early in the morning. And before breakfast at that. The nerve!

Nosing around the house, with the bedlam easing off behind her, Beth found herself staring at long, wooden steps that led up into the attic. She walked up the uncarpeted, well-scuffed, winding steps carefully and turned the handle. The door was unlocked, and swung open with a familiar creak. The room was low, and stuffed to the gills with all sorts of bric-a-brac.

The most interesting things Beth made out were the hats, peeking out of cardboard boxes half-closed and somewhat dusty. Collections of hats, from Canterlot, Los Pegasus and some place called 'Ponyville', to name a few. She'd never heard of half of them. Picking one out, she tried it on; it was pink, wide, flowery and chic. Wiping a claw on a full-width mirror, she admired her reflection for a moment. Hats... weren't really her thing. Still, she could try them on. She swapped the pink number for a yellow one, then a green one. One had a feather which looked surprisingly like a griffon's. She was startled as the door opened, and whirled to see who was entering. As she spun around, her tail knocked the box of hats on the floor.

"Hey, Beth," said Chip as he eased himself into the crowded attic. "Was wondering where you'd gone."

"Sorry, Chip, I... you just made me jump. I was..." Beth pointed in explanation.

"Umm, it's okay." The colt awkwardly twirled a hoof in the ragged carpet that lay under the boxes. "Would you... want one of those?"

Beth righted the box and dropped the hats she had collected back into it, stroking a claw on the top.

"Mom kinda had a lot of them. Dad would buy her a new one whenever he went someplace different, it was their thing." Chip took a hesitant step forward.

"Sure, I guess," answered Beth, shyly.

Chip strode closer, smiling nervously. "They look good on you. I mean, it's nice someone's using them, you know? Because... I miss my parents, and—" he blurted out, redenning as he realised how asinine it had to sound.

Beth stiffened, but took one of the hats. She strode to the hallway, pushing past Chip, with the colt protesting and apologizing as she went. She turned in the doorway, "Chip, I know you mean well but... we really don't know each other well enough to discuss this, yet. So just don't, okay?"

"But I just wanted to say I know how you feel," the pony protested.

"I know," sighed Beth. She retreated and shut the door, leaving a sad-faced Chip to sit on his haunches, alone.

As the footsteps disappeared into the distance, Chip sighed, and tried to pick up the cardboard box. Like so many other things in the pony world, it required two – or a unicorn – to manage. Eventually, he gave up and just browsed the room full of memories.

"Oh, hello," he said suddenly, getting to his hooves as he eyed what had been under the box. "What's this?"

♠♣♥♦

"It's a photo-album?" asked Hairpin, peering over Chip's shoulder as the colt opened it on the floor of the den, in front of him.

"Kinda," answered Chip. "It's got pictures of my folks in it, a lock of my mom's mane, the deeds to their first mine, all sorts." He turned the pages carefully, afraid he might fold or rip them, gazing fondly at the treasures within.

"It's also got baby pictures!" giggled Penny. "Isn't he adorable?" The younger pegasus pointed a hoof, causing Chip to flip it quickly closed.

"No staring at my baby pictures! Mom was always showing my baby pictures, all the time!" As Chip flipped it closed, an odd piece of paper fell out. The colt bent to pick it up, head tilting as he tried to make out what was written on it:

Ɛ> ɐ̤ıʞʞıɐʞ ɐ̤ɐ̤ʇıǝʇ uɐʇsɐʞɐᴚ

˙ɐ̤ɐ̤dɯǝuǝ uǝs ıǝ 'ɐɾnʇʇnɾ ɐɾnssɐɥ

ʇɐ̤ʌɐ̤ɐ̤ʞʞʎʇ ɐʞʇoɾ ıʞʞıɐʞ

ǝllıʇsǝıʌ uǝuıɐlɐs uo ɐ̤ɐ̤ʇ

˙ɐ̤ɯɐ̤ʇ ʇǝnl unʞ soʇııʞ ɐʇʇǝ

oouɐs uıɐʌ uısnlɐH ˙ıʞʞıɐʞ ıoW

"What in Equestria is that?" asked Beth, trit-trotting around the group to get a closer look.

"Ruff not know, but thinks it looks familiar," the diamond dog said, scratching his chin.

"Well, whatever it is, we can take a look at it later. Stand back everyone!" Chip took the piece of paper and placed it carefully back into the photo-album, before placing the album on top of the pile of other papers and important items.

"What're you gonna do, Chip?" asked Carmine, eyeing the colt suspiciously. She moved back from the orderly pile of stuff to sit on a sofa, watching with interest.

"Hairpin, did you bring the fire-ruby? I think I might need a bit of a boost." Chip paced around the pile, arranging things with a touch of his hoof here or there.

"Ooh! I'll get it, Master!" Hairpin replied. In a flash, she bounded out of the room. Carmine's head-feathers fluffed up as she listened to the pegasus hoofing it out the back door, presumably to where the chariot was stuffed in the barn.

"Chip," asked Carmine again, a little impatiently, glowering when Chip only grinned wider. "what're you doing?"

Chip smiled as Hairpin dashed back in with a rough red gem in her mouth. She placed it reverently in front of Chip and stood back, eyes down in supplication.

Chip crunched the fire-ruby loudly and noisily in his jaws, smoke rising from his nostrils from the very first bite, before swallowing.

"Chip! What in Equestria are you going to d—!"

Chip inhaled, seemingly inflating to several times his normal size, before he exhaled in a mighty breath and unleashed a huge gout of flame at the innocently-placed pile of papers. Unsurprisingly, they went up in smoke.

"CHIP! What in the first egg did you do!?" screamed Carmine, leaping to her paws..

"He posted the lot!" said Hairpin, bouncing up and down. "That's my master! I knew you could do it!"

"He what?!" asked Carmine. She looked from her friends, to the pegasus, who was watching her owner with naked pride on her face, to Chip. She shook her head, feathers fluffing and tail lashing as before her, the shadows played tricks with her eyes. Chip seemed larger, somehow, and the light streaming in through the windows momentarily darker. The shadows playing across his body, just for a moment, seemed to settle across his back like huge, bat-like folded wings.

"Let's see about our evening meal," Chip said, evenly. "We should get to sleep. We'll make an early start tomorrow; we've got a long way to go tomorrow, and it's not going to be simple.

♠♣♥♦

Early morning light filtered through the mists and fog, playing over the unkempt garden. Chip shivered slightly in the chill morning air, he was cold despite his armour. Autumn had arrived, with a vengeance.

The house stood silent once more, with the windows shuttered and the fireplaces emptied and the doors closed and locked. Beds had been made, pots and pans had been scrubbed and mugs were cleaned. The house no longer looked abandoned, to him. It looked more like it was somehow waiting. It had seen life return once, and would do so again. Chip looked at it a little forlornly, but still he smiled. He'd soon be off home, and wouldn't be returning for a while, but it was of no matter. This was just a house, when all was said and done. It held a few bundles of unimportant papers and a bunch of meaningless junk. What really mattered to him were memories, and those he had plenty of. He'd be picking them up from Ponyville as he swung by on the long trip home, to Tacksworn.

Sniffing, wiping at his eyes with an idle hoof, he flicked an ear in irritation as Hairpin groomed his mane. He whuffled in displeasure, but allowed her ministrations. For now. He hadn't quite got over the idea that she was gravid and didn't want to upset her, and besides... his mane was messy. Yeah, that was it. And it shouldn't be, not even if it was hidden by his horned helm.

♠♣♥♦

In short order, the chariot was re-packed and refitted for another flight. Everything was tied down and the non-flighted members of Team Tacksworn – a working title if ever there was one – hopped in.

"You sure we can make the fence?" Chip asked worriedly as he peered around Hairpin at the end of the garden. It seemed distressingly close, and whilst he'd faced down several thousand feet of sheer mountain drop in the claws of Sharptooth, his pet wasn't quite so substantial, and disaster loomed a whole sight closer.

"Yeah, no problems, Master." Hairpin shook her wings and her body out energetically.

"I mean, really, really sure?"

"Yeah." Hairpin flicked her wings out, angling them forwards so they wouldn't foul with Penny's. "Pretty sure."

"Wait, what? Wait, the last time you were pretty sure about the landing and we practically crashed!"

"That wasn't a crash," grinned Hairpin as she looked around at him, "that was an unconventional free-form cessation of flight."

Chip grabbed on to the closest thing he could, which happened to be Ruff. The little diamond dog let out a strangled yelp as Chip's hooves all but crushed the breath out of him.

Hairpin looked at him and snorted derisively. "Ready, Penny?"

"Think cloud, right?"

"They still teach you that? Naa, it's think bullet."

Chip screamed. Ruff tried to scream, but was mostly turning an interesting shade of blue. The chariot itself thundered forwards as Penny and Hairpin went from a standstill, directly to a gallop and only accelerated more from there.

Chip was still screaming as Hairpin turned and laughed out, "You can open your eyes now."

"You said he owns you?" sniggered Penny. "How's that working out?"

"He was considerably braver when leaping to his doom out of an exploding mail-train. I don't think he screamed like a filly that time."

"That was a battle-cry!" protested Chip. "I was psyching myself up for the trip! Besides, when I get my wings fixed I'll show you 'think bullet'."

Bright Pinion flapped on in silence for a few moments, then she turned and asked, "he really leaped out of an exploding train?"

"Yep," Hairpin replied. "Bravest, craziest thing I've ever seen. I'm proud to call him my master."

"He still screams like a filly," retorted Penny, flicking her tail in mirth.

"Oh come on!" whined Chip, as the others giggled.

♠♣♥♦

Bella screwed her muzzle up as she looked out of one side of the carriage, and Chip peered intently over the other. Beneath them, the terrain was getting progressively greener. They had been flying roughly North for several hours and were getting close to where the map suggested their first landmark was.

"I see it!" shouted Penny, "The forest, the river, the lake... and there's the mountain!"

Chip moved to the opposite side of the chariot as Hairpin and Penny circled. The little wagon dipped as the weight shifted, causing Penny to hiss in displeasure.

Bella pointed a hoof, spying what Penny had seen. The mountain was half-hidden by a heat-haze, it wavered and danced in the distance. Chip could just about make it out, as his gaze followed the course of an azure river which wound through a verdant forest.

"We go around it counter-clockwise three times?" Chip asked.

"Aye, that's what your map says," affirmed Beth as she swooped closer to the chariot, flicking her talons in anticipation. "Widdershins. Good call Pen."

"It's what I do," the younger pegasus laughed.

"What, you find stuff?" asked Chip, raising his ears in surprise.

"I sure do. Ponies, lost objects... Lucky Penny, that's me, knock wood." She hoofed the chariot glibly with a hind leg as they changed course. "How about you, Chip? What do you do?"

"I..." he looked at his bare haunches quizzically. "I don't know. My cousin Sunshine said 'rich' kids," Chip snorted at that as he said it, "often don't get their cutie-marks until late as they try to follow their parents instead of finding their own way. I can't rightly follow mine."

"Don't worry Chip, plenty of ponies don't get their cutie-marks until later in life." stated Bella.

"I'm not worried," Chip replied. Strangely enough, he wasn't. "How did you get yours?"

"I'm not very good at magic," Bella replied, looking out at the horizon. Chip looked down, he didn't want to press her, but she carried on. "I used to wander around the woods near the watering hole outside of town when it got me down. My grandparents lived there when I was a little filly, and they used to show me where the animals slept and what plants they ate when they were sick or just plain hungry. Tacksworn's never been a really green place. Deserts rarely are, we just don't have enough weather ponies for it to be. But every time I went there I'd find more interesting little plants and flowers to show off. One day I got bitten by a snake, and... I used what I knew, what my grandparents had taught me, to keep me alive until I got help. When I'd recovered from the fever, I found this mark on my flank."

"A plant?" asked Chip. Two flower-heads adorned the unicorn's flank, their delicate purple petals each bearing two white-rimmed green spots, with a striking yellow stamen.

"It's purple nightshade," said Bella, with a small, sad smile. "It's got a bad rep, but it's a pretty flower with quite a few uses."

"She also knows how to give someone she doesn't like the screaming blue squirts," chuckled Carmine. "Best. Math lesson. Ever."

♠♣♥♦

The mountain loomed closer and closer, until they found themselves circling it. Rising high above the ground, they broke through the cloud layer and emerged into a sky hued in the the richest lapis lazuli.

"Keep going! Three times!" shouted Chip above the rising winds.

"Easy for you to say, you don't have to flap your wings!" huffed Penny, but the thermals from the mountain caught in her primaries and the almost-weightless chariot soared into the blue.

The ride continued in dizzying fashion as the pegasi sought to use the winds to their advantage. They rose when they could, using the updrafts, and they dove when they couldn't, letting gravity do the work for them. Finally, their three circuits of the mountain were complete. Racing back down through the sea of clouds like an osprey on the hunt, they plunged into what looked like a dense swamp.

"This the Haysead?" asked Bella, peering down at the undergrowth, "I thought that was further North East?"

"I'm not sure," replied Hairpin as she peered about. "It does look like it, but it can't be. If it is, we're hundreds of miles off course. This makes no sense..."

"Well if that lake beneath us is the one that's here on this map," argued Chip, "then things are about to get—" He didn't finish, as the chariot was twisted vertically by a sudden gust of wind. Neighing loudly in shock, it took both pegasi a few moments and a lot of frantic wing-beats to return the chariot to horizontal.

"Hold onto your butts, we're going lower!" shouted Hairpin, as she fought to maintain control. Seemingly inches from the black waters, the crazy ride finally levelled out. Penny was sweating with fear and her eyes were white and wild.

Hairpin just grinned. "Fun, ain't it?"

"Celestia's shredded socks," swore Penny, "if we survive this, Chip, I'm going to kill you."

The dark waters of the lake gave way to a murky green forest, full of vines, creepers and sunken branches. The trees were stunted and twisted, like they'd been flattened by some giant. They looked for all the world like broken and bent blades of grass, the soggy moss upon them greener than their leaves, and their bark all but invisible beneath the pasty, clammy covering. Clipping the canopy, Hairpin and Penny brought the chariot in for a quick landing as a clearing opened up. This time things were smoother than at the house, though it did slide alarmingly in the thick, sucking mud. Carmine and Beth landed soon after, perching in the trees rather than wallowing in the muck.

"Return all your co-passengers to their upright positions and please exit the vehicle." said Hairpin, smoothly. She grinned, "that was a fun stint in Vormardra's airships. Friend of Pig Iron's. I cost him a pretty penny to hire, too. You're up next, Master."

"Wait, what?" asked Chip as he carefully placed Ruff down. The small diamond dog started breathing again once Chip's hooves released him.

"You're the ground crew, Chippy. We've been flying for hours, time to pull your own weight," nickered Penny.

Chip rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine." he sighed. "Come on then, Bella, time to get hitched up."

"No can do, Chip," refused Bella. She shook her head so her green mane fell over her eyes. She grinned wickedly as she blew it out of her eyes.

"Oh come on!" the colt protested. "You can't expect me to pull you all!"

"I'll cast a light-as-a-feather spell, it'll be a cinch!"

"So unfair!" Chip stomped a hoof. It squelched.

"Big strong dragon lord like you?" asked Hairpin innocently, fluttering her eyes and flicking her tail, "making a pregnant pegasus pull him?"

Chip sighed and eased into the harness. "So totally unfair."

♠♣♥♦

With the light-as-a-feather spell cast semi-regularly, Chip actually found it wasn't all that hard going, despite the lack of solid ground. The chariot would ride up over small obstacles, and if Chip jumped over a branch or puddle, it would follow him. In next to no time, they'd pulled their way out of the worst of the swampy forest and were heading along what seemed to be a river bank. The other side of the river grew quickly too far to jump to, the waters having eaten away at the ground until it had formed a ravine, with a path either side. The sides of the gorge sloped up on the left and right; it looked difficult to traverse should they need to ascend in that direction, and as Chip picked his way forwards he fervently hoped he wouldn't. Above them raged a permanent tempest, with thunder and lightning splitting the sky, a regular staccato mix of light and sound. Great grey and black clouds obscured the sun, plunging the group into permanent twilight. More thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, but it was overshadowed by a roaring that made itself known more as a physical presence than mere sound. The roaring grew as the valley suddenly started to narrow. The thin, treacherous paths wound steeply upwards, culminating in a huge waterfall.

Just as Chip was worrying about the path ending and possibly having to navigate a section of the valley by air, which would mean a fight with the maelstrom above, they crested a hill and left the valley behind. In but a few tentative steps, the colt and the chariot he pulled exited the relative calm of the gorge and found themselves forging ahead into bedlam. "Luna's unshorn fetlocks!" the colt bellowed, his words ripped from his muzzle and tossed to the four corners of Equestria by the raging gale-force winds. "So that's a 'rain-eye'!"

Before them was a broad lake, it was coloured the same murky green as the previous expanse of water further down in the lowlands, when it wasn't churned white and foamy by the waves. The harsh winds tugged and pummelled them as they left the shelter of the valley, and here the rain was a constant downpour. The reason for the rainfall was an enormous, improbable water-spout in the centre of the lake, leading impossibly up into the grey void above. It sucked and gurgled as it dragged tonnes of water high into the sky, where it was devoured by the hungry storm that spat lightning and threatened to drown the world.

"And we've got to fly into that?" swore Beth. "Are you sure?"

Hairpin looked at it stoically for a good few minutes, her nostrils flared as she stood deep in thought. Finally she jumped out of the little wagon and turned, nodding. "Guys, we can do this. Feel the wind, Penny!"

Penny shook herself as she too exited the vehicle, her red mane flaring in the neon lightning. "It goes up," she said simply.

"It goes up," agreed Hairpin. "Going up is easy, it's when it goes down we have a problem."

"We really gonna do this?" whined Ruff. "Ruff can't swim."

"Then don't fall out," Beth said, jabbing a claw at the pup.

♠♣♥♦

Everything was tied down and checked. Then it was checked again. Carmine and Beth flanked the carriage, with Bella, Ruff and Chip holding on to what they could and praying to Celestia and Luna both that the rickety-yet-faithful ride would survive the trip with nothing more worrying than some of its peeling paint being scrubbed off.

"Stay close now," Hairpin warned, "we'll go against the flow at first, it'll give us better lift. When we get out there though, I want you girls to stay behind the chariot." The pegasus pointed her hoof at both griffons, a serious expression on her muzzle. "Penny and I will shape the wind, you two don't have that, so leave the fighting with us. It'll be bumpy, real bumpy, but we'll make it. Remember, let it take you up as high as it wants. When you stop, I want it to be in sunlight, got me?"

"Yes ma'am!" replied Carmine and Beth together.

"Y-you sure about this?" squeaked Bright Pinion, shivering at the thought of throwing herself and her friends at the gargantuan column of spinning water.

"You're a pegasus, Penny," stated Hairpin. The older mare tapped her hoof on Penny's shoulder to emphasis every syllable. "You control the weather, not the other way around. Always remember that. Now hitch up!"

The chariot gathered speed along the broken shoreline as the two pegasi pulling the vehicle slowly and smoothly went through a walk to a trot, to a canter and then a gallop. They sprung into the air as one, and the rattling, jouncing trip suddenly smoothed out. Behind them came the two griffons, Carmine with her pinker-hued head feathers standing out brightly against the more traditionally gold, black, brown and white-hued Bethany.

"Be the wind," called Hairpin to Penny, "shape it. Call it to you and make it yours. They've taught you in school, right? Now own it."

Determined, Penny beat her wings with confidence and vivacity. Undaunted by the growing storm, she pulled the chariot onwards, higher and higher.

"That's it, Penny my love, that's it!" crowed Hairpin, as the ride grew progressively wilder and wilder. "Beth, Carmine, stay close! When I say, turn! One, two... now!"

As one, the small group banked sharply and headed out over the water. The rain, which had been a light drizzle until that time, returned in full force as Penny and Hairpin put their efforts not into controlling the wind, but in staying upright and maintaining their upwards motion. All at once, the tower of water which spun and danced upwards into the sky loomed close enough to touch, a colossal roaring monster which drowned out every physical sense. It shook their little craft ceaselessly; the spray filled their eyes, noses and ears and the sheer presence of a pillar of water, seemingly a mile high, filled their world. As the wind whipped endlessly around them, it pulled them in.

"I can't hold it!" shrieked Penny, as she tried to evade a watery grave.

"You have to!" roared Hairpin, straining against the straps that held her in, fighting to keep the chariot in the air and from seeing it plunge into the wild water.

"I can't! I can't! I ca—"

The world turned green and white for Chip as the puny wooden carriage, and the pegasi pulling it, was hurled end over end into the maelstrom. The last thing he saw before the world turned black were two feathered forms tumbling after him, and the last thing he felt was the sting of griffon claws grabbing hold of his tail.

♠♣♥♦

What Lies Before

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds

The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
══════════════════════════════════════

Chapter 9
What Lies Before
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

Rushing and roaring sounds assaulted his consciousness. Vaguely he became aware he was being jostled and jounced, with brief yet intense pin-pricks of pain making themselves known through the all-pervading fog. There was a sudden, sharper pain in his chest, which caused Chip to violently cough. A stream of water left his lungs and, as he opened his eyes, he sucked in a huge gasping breath. He retched, and another goodly amount of bile-tasting liquid was ejected from his maw.

"Chip?" asked a frantic, worried voice, audible through a rushing torrent of white noise which slowly but surely diminished until it became little but a memory and an annoying ache in the back of his head.

"Carmine?" Chip croaked, rolling his head around until his amor-plated helmet was once again in its proper place. The world that swam into focus was white and silent save for the faint creaking of the carriage as it moved in the gentle breeze. It was almost peaceful, if not for the burning pain in his tail and the ache in his gut where he'd been punched by the griffon.

"In the feathers. You okay?" Carmine peered at him over the rim of the chariot, which was amazingly in one piece. It looked like they'd not lost anything important, and the rest had made it through the dunking safe and sound.

"I... I think so. How're the others? Guys?" he called weakly. "Anyone?"

"Beth got Bella, Pin and Penny are fine, so's Ruff, he stuffed himself in the luggage netting." Carmine chuckled, her wet feathers slick against her upper body, the fur on her leonine hindquarters dark and ruffled. "Looks like we made it in one piece."

There were more coughs and splutters around him as a collection of damp shapes made themselves known.

"Beth?" coughed Bella. "Carmine? Chip? Where are we?"

Chip laughed weakly. The colt struggled to right himself in the cramped space before speaking, wincing as pain exploded through his head. "We made it, Bella. We're right at the top of the world, in the clouds. That water-spout swallowed us up and then spat us right out."

"Yeah, and if Beth and I hadn't grabbed your sorry backsides by the tail, it would've been a long trip back down. Nearly didn't get you, Chip; that ripper-ring is sharp. Almost took my beak off."

"I thank you," Chip said blithely, "but my tail doesn't."

"Well your tail can just take a running jump, see how well it can cloud-walk without pegasi magic."

"You don't care about my tail?" asked Chip, pouting.

"Only the rest of you." Carmine smirked.

Chip leaned up quickly, and gave the griffon a kiss on the beak. "Well the rest of me thanks you."

Carmine was speechless. Chip swore he heard a very small "woohoo!" from Penny.

"Ruff lives too... Ruff is not sure, but Ruff thinks Ruff lives," groaned the diamond dog.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, pup," congratulated Bella. Her horn lit up as she performed what simple healing and diagnostic spells she knew. "Nothing's broken on you, but... ow, yeah, I think I strained something. Everything's so white! We're in the clouds?" Bella asked, ear-flicking.

"Yeah, we're in the clouds. You get used to it after the first few times." Chip laughed. "Penny, Hairpin? You two alive?"

"Just about, Master," answered the mature pegasus, shaking herself out.

"Remind me to buck you into the middle of next week when we get home, okay?" moaned Penny.

"Glad you're okay too, Pen." Chip swiped at the clouds with a hoof, clearing them. Marvelling at the power of pegasi magic, he was intensely grateful that, whilst attached to his pet and his friend, the chariot shared in their unique ability to rest upon the clouds. He carefully opened the side doors and hoofed out the last of the water, and then returned to breaking up the clouds above him. With a few final swipes of his hooves, he broke through into glorious, warm daylight. The sky was blue, the sun cheerful, and what breeze there was, was refreshing and welcome.

"That was one wild ride, Chip," chuckled Carmine as she hopped up to a cloud-ledge above them. She ran a claw through her head feathers, smoothing them down. "I think I lost a few inches of tail that time. I think I'm glad I've got this thing rather than feathers back there." Carmine slapped Chip on the flank with her leonine tail and grinned, clicking her beak.

"Ow! You okay though?"

"Mostly. Sprained a wing, but I'll live. We can glide down, just as long as we don't have to go back that way..."

Bella shook her head as Beth joined Carmine on the cloud-ledge. "No, I don't think so," the unicorn stated. "We just have to go back down, now, I think? I don't get it. I didn't see any village or anything on the way up."

"I don't think we were supposed to," Chip replied. Ferreting about in the carriage, he pulled out his saddle-bags and unrolled the map, wiping off one of the travelling trunks to use as a table. Pointing at it, he sat back on his haunches. "Dad said this is..." Chip paused, scrunching up his muzzle in thought before continuing, "Some sort of magical path. He said it's unstable, that it's closing, if it's not closed already. We had to follow those dumb directions because otherwise we won't get there. If we're all in one piece, though, I think we've made it. Somewhere below us lies Zephyr Village. Let's have a breather, check everything out, and then head down when we're ready."

♠♣♥♦

They descended slowly and carefully. The clouds surrounded them like an impervious, never-ending blanket of cotton candy. The world was nothing but a white expanse that ended a few feet in front of their noses, and visibility was practically zero. Sounds were muffled, and the water in the clouds covered everything in a fine coating of drizzle. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the chariot rocked as the winds created turbulence, but compared to what they'd already been through, the jolts were nothing and the two pegasi shrugged them off. Carmine and Beth crowed to each other, which elicited answering neighs from Hairpin and Penny.

All of a sudden, the white mass unfolded before them to reveal a verdant plateau on the side of a mountain. The endless carpet of clouds above them dispersed the further they got from the thunderhead, and bright shafts of sunlight pierced the heavens, painting the fields in lustrous gold and yellow hues. The air was clean and bracing, spiced with the slightly salty tang of some distant sea. It was mixed enticingly with the dry, baked melange of the desert.

"Guys, this... this isn't possible," stated Bella flatly, awe in her voice.

"But there it is, B," replied Carmine, flapping her wings slowly.

"No, I mean... we've been travelling for hours, all day. It should be the evening. How come it's still midday?"

"I don't think we're in Equestria any more," whispered Chip, as they drifted lower.

The group was silent in awe as they circled the plateau, finally coming in for a landing in the upper reaches, where a cloudbank swirled protectively about an almost invisible mountain pass.

"The hidden village in the mists, right?" asked Chip.

"That's what your map says, Master," replied Hairpin, with a grin.

"Right then, everyone pay attention. We walk, single-file apart from Bella and me with the wagon. Carmine, you take point. Hairpin, you're up next. Ruff, stay in the wagon. Penny, get behind us and Beth, you keep an eye on the rear, okay? No surprises, we take it slowly."

Beth nodded respectfully, as Carmine leaped over them all and Hairpin shrugged herself free. When everybody was ready, the group set off up the mountain.

The wind was gentle and warm, but the silence of the plateau seemed unnatural and strained, as if the world were holding its breath. The greenery slid off into the distance, and the mountain-tops were obscured by cloud. Leading upwards, the path was well-worn and would be easy to follow, but where it headed remained a mystery. The group made cautious headway into the billowing walls of white. Step by step, they were swallowed by the mists of the cloud-layer, the world around them vanishing like fragments of a broken dream, replaced with a close expanse of silence.

As before, the griffons caw'd to each other, calling out. The strange whiteness withheld almost all sounds and obscured sight, so the sounding out was a welcome aide. The group moved slowly on the uneven ground, muddy pot-holes and tree-roots requiring they pick their route carefully.

All of a sudden, the fog lifted. Chip gasped, they were perched on the side of a mountain with a deadly drop on one side and a sheer cliff on the other. The trail moved onwards, and the group pressed forwards.

The winds grew momentarily fierce as the path wound around the mountain, and then all at once it dropped off as the trail widened and they rounded the bend. Behind them stretched a deadly drop and an impassable cliff, and before them stretched grassy plains and unkempt fields.

Here was civilization, of a sort, perched in an impossible valley in mountains which didn't exist. The grass was long in places, tangled and unkempt. It had seeded, and little showers of the dust-like particles puffed up as the group passed, floating on the breeze.

"I think we can leave this here," stated Chip, indicating the chariot. "Grab what's necessary and let's walk." He kicked the wagon with a hoof, it was more or less stuck fast in the undergrowth, and would be useless.

"Where to?" asked Penny, clambering on the raised back to peer off into the distance.

"I think I see huts, or something," Chip said, pointing, and with a shrug he set off.

The ponies on foot made relatively steady progress, and the pegasi and griffons didn't wander too far. The weather was perfect, with only wispy clouds dotting the deep blue sky, and there was no sign of anything more dangerous than a disgruntled badger and a rabbit or two. Still, the group stuck together. There was a collective wish not to stray, for the farmlands were unnaturally silent, and apparently empty.

"It's like," piped up Chip, "I think this was all tended to once... I mean it's grass, actual grass. It's just been let go for years. Decades, maybe, I don't know."

"And I recognize most of these plants," supplied Bella, pointing a hoof and digging into the ground with her horn to expose various specimens. "They don't grow so close together unless they've been planted."

The group continued on in relative silence, with Ruff alternately watching ahead and behind from where he was perched on Hairpin's back, nervously. It was when they finally reached the village that everybody stopped. The huts seemed abandoned, with shuttered windows and broken doors set into crude wooden frames that were little more than circular collections of roughly-hewn boards, or in some cases tree-trunks. Shrubberies and gardens had overgrown, vines had swallowed some buildings whole and still others had fallen in, their roofs giving out under the onslaught of time. Wordlessly, the group spread out, but kept each other in eye and ear-shot. The griffons rose cautiously into the sky and circled, searching apprehensively.

"Hello!" called Chip and Penny, with nothing but echoes to answer them.

"What happened here? It just looks like... everyone left," Bella finished, lamely.

"Maybe they did," agreed Hairpin. "Hellooo? Anyone?"

Beth landed lithely with a soft thump, startling the pegasus. "Come on, I've found something."

"What is it?" Hairpin asked.

"Another hut, and it looks lived in."

Trotting through the ruined town, or in some cases winging it above the tangled brush that used to be the streets, the group hurried in the direction pointed out by Beth. Up the single main road a little, the greenery gave way to clear paths. One hut stood apart from the rest, no less run-down but obviously inhabited. Potted plants hung on beams over a wooden terrace, and fresh rabbit skins hung drying in the sun. The rabbit carcases themselves were in a smaller shed-like structure, kept cooler out of the glare of the sun, where they could drain undisturbed.

"This is diamond dog dwelling," said Ruff. "I can tell. Rabbit Surprise."

"I thought you diamond dogs preferred to live underground?"

"Ye-es," agreed Ruff, "but stories have houses like these! Mama reads them to me."

Carmine raked her claws gently down the side of the strange wooden hut. "Then what caused diamond dogs to prefer living underground?"

"High King said the sky was burning, so he led us to safety. We hid from the sun and survived. Everybody else died."

"If the diamond dogs all died except for the ones that lived underground... then where is this lot from? And who is that?" asked Carmine, pointing with a claw further up the hillside.

Squinting to get a better look, Chip and the others left the dwelling behind them and headed towards the spot Carmine had indicated. Sure enough, the griffon's eagle eyes had spotted a figure sitting unmoving under the shade of a tree, near a small cave. Several minutes of walking later, and the group were close enough to make her out.

She was, true enough, a diamond dog. She was short, wrinkly like worn leather, and old. Her hair was as grey as the winter sky and the rest of her pelt was faded and almost colourless, with the skin showing underneath her fur in places. An old bone through her nose was matched by what appeared to be teeth in her ears and on a necklace that hung low across her chest. A large, ornately carved staff lay horizontally across her lap. The staff was long, taller than the troll would be standing up, with what looked like a skull of some animal on top. Strips of leather hung down from a bar perpendicular to the shaft, and the shaft itself was decorated in odd writing and runes and other glyphs. It was made of what seemed to be some dark brown wood, the varnish old and worn but uncracked. Her eyes seemed to be closed, and faint snoring noises could be heard. At their approach, however, her eyes snapped open and she sat up straighter

"Hold, strangers," the dog-troll said, in a raspy voice. Her bulldog-like face wrinkled as she showed her canines. "Who goes there?"

"We're just travellers," said Chip, carefully trotting forwards.

"Ponies?" The troll sniffed. "No, not just ponies." She sniffed again. "Griffons... and a dragon? Do you think to trick old Mishka? Think Mishka afraid? Nose not lie, ears not lie. Such a party is trouble. Stay back! Mishka keep duty, keep promise. Mishka guard, as Mishka's mother guarded. As her mother, and her mother, and her mother, and..." the diamond dog's words dwindled off into slurred speech as she fought to remember and recount it accurately. She evidently gave up as she gave a barking snarl, getting to her feet with a great deal of difficulty. "Mishka not be tricked! Seek treasure, you do. Seek to steal it. Not find what looking for! Begone!"

"Treasure?" asked Hairpin, perking her ears up.

Mishka hissed, lunging forwards with her staff. "Fie! Dragon!" the troll shouted. Hairpin danced out of the way, and Chip turned to swipe at the weapon, his haunch-guard catching the blow as his tail wrapped around it. Twisting his hindquarters away from the old troll, he sought to wrench the staff out of her grip. Despite her age, the old troll bent and followed the path of the staff, and plunged the head of it into the ground. To his shock, Chip found his tail-motion brought to a dead stop as the staff seemingly became one with the rocks beneath it. In one fluid motion, Mishka then raised the staff and swiped at his legs. Chip blocked with his flank, the breath whooshing from his lungs as the weapon impacted. Flicking with his tail and kicking with his hind legs in one motion, Chip scored a direct hit against the diamond dog, sending her sailing through the air in one direction, whilst her staff flew in the opposite. It impacted a tree with a fearful crash.

Mishka landed heavily, whining in pain as she fought to breathe. Hairpin, incensed, rushed forwards with deadly intent. She reared up, kicking both front hooves as she brought them down for a deadly stomp.

"Stop!" yelled Chip, splaying his ears back and stomping a forehoof. Hairpin froze in place, almost keeling over as her master's voice ordered her to stand down. "Stop, Pin, Stop. Good girl. It's over. It's okay." Chip ran to his pet, nuzzling the suddenly distraught pegasus.

"Sorry, Master, I... I just..."

"Shh, it's okay," Chip comforted, "you did good, you meant well." Chip flicked his tail in a deliberate motion, causing the bolas to crash together. He glared at Mishka, and she seemed to slump. "Back now, Pin," Chip whispered. "Get back." He nudged the pegasus with a forehoof, planting it between her ears, gently, for a second, before trotting over to the prone diamond dog. "This is over, Mishka."

"Kill Mishka now, dragon!" cried the diamond dog, tears running down her face as she fought to breath. "Mishka has failed. Kill Mishka; you have destroyed staff, now end Mishka's pain."

Chip watched speechlessly as the old troll burst into tears. Her words were confused and mixed, but her intent was obvious. She had failed in a sacred task, and had nothing left to live for. Chip took a deep breath, and made a decision. "Mishka... Mishka, listen. We're not here to attack or steal anything. Here, touch me. I'm not what you think I am." Chip shucked his horned helmet and turned back to the prone troll. She was still wailing and crying. At his insistence, she stretched out a paw.

"You are... dragon? Mishka nose not lie, Mishka ears not lie, Mishka paws don't lie... but you are a pony?"

He nuzzled her outstretched paw softly. "It's complicated. What we are, is friends. Really. Talk, tell us why you're here."

"Mishka... Mishka has failed," said the diamond dog. Sobbing, she rolled over and sat back up, gasping for breath. "Mishka hurts. Heart is broken. Mishka wait, all her life. Mishka guard home, for king. Mishka's brother was imbecile. Wet self and drool. Father put down. Other brother deaf. Mishka—" the troll tapered off, gesturing weakly to her eyes.

"You're blind, aren't you?" Chip said softly. "Guys, come closer. I think... I think it's okay now."

His friends crowded around as the old troll continued. "Mishka pack cut off from home, many years ago. No diamond dogs here to continue pack. Pack... mate with pack."

Hairpin hissed in disgust. "They've been inbreeding for centuries. It's a problem, back in Stalliongrad. Some dragons have strong ideas about their pets, ideas that aren't entirely wise."

"They breed their pets like ponies do cattle," replied Carmine, with a nod.

"Mishka," the old troll carried on, getting to her feet. "Mishka wait, all her life. Mishka is... last. Mishka is last shield-maiden. No more. No more shield-maidens, no more King. King as dead as Mishka's father. Lies! Was all lies! What went before was greater!"

Chip ducked as the old troll ran forwards, shaking her fists at the sky. "Come now, then, King! Show self! If ever were, be! What went before was greater!"

"But," said Ruff, shouldering his way through the crowd, "if what went before was greater, then what lies ahead is greater still. Mama always said—"

"King?" Mishka sniffed. She dried her eyes and turned, searching. "King?"

"I Ruff—" began the little troll.

"He's with us," said Hairpin.

"King returns?" Mishka was breathless. "King returns! With ponies and griffons and dragon in tow. King returns triumphant! King returns for Mishka!" The diamond dog's face grew white and a strangled scream tore at her throat. "Mishka has broken sacred staff!" She burst into tears again, falling on her face and crawling on her belly through the grass towards Ruff, blubbering and begging forgiveness. "Mishka worthless, Mishka terrible. Mishka awful. Mishka—"

"Mishka hasn't broken her staff," said Carmine, hefting it out of the bushes and placing it between the older diamond dog's paws. "See?"

Mishka pulled it to her, rocking back and forth. "Wise king! Powerful king! Mishka faithful!"

"Mishka very faithful," said Ruff, awkwardly. "Mishka perfect shield-maiden."

"Mishka hold for king. Mishka promised. Here, King, take staff. Mishka do good?"

"Mishka do very good," answered Ruff, as he bent to pick up the staff. He held it, awkwardly, whilst the elder troll kissed his feet.

"Mishka always knew," the troll said, tears streaming down her face, "that king would come back for her. Come, king and slaves must dine with Mishka. Come, come." Tottering without the staff to hold her upright, limping slightly on what appeared to be a lame leg, the old troll headed resolutely back towards what had to be her hut, leaving the rest to watch her go in some amusement and a good deal of confusion.

Chip snorted. "I am no slave. I am a dragon lord!"

Carmine perked up an eyeridge at him, head-crest rising.

"It's the principle of the thing!" He snorted, stomping after the retreating figure.

Carmine watched him go, beak falling open in surprise and amusement.

Hairpin swished past. She turned and grinned. "It's a dragon thing, you'll get used to it, Mistress Carmine." Carmine's beak dropped even lower as the pegasus winked and swished off, following her owner.

♠♣♥♦

Mishka led the group back to her house. She bade Ruff enter, and then promptly shut the door in everyone else's face. Chip snorted and stormed in anyway. Mishka shrieked and almost dropped the plate she was filling with pieces of red meat. For a brief second, Chip bared his teeth, but then he sat down on his haunches.

"Sorry, hi, uh, your majesty," Chip glared at Ruff. The pup shrugged his shoulders. "We've all had a long day, and we could all do with a bite to eat. How about you join us outside in the sunshine?"

"If king so wishes." Mishka sniffed.

Chip glared. Had he glared much harder, the stool Ruff was seated on may have burst into flames.

"King wishes!" squeaked Ruff, as he bolted outside.

Chip about-faced just outside the front door, and stomped off.

In short order, a collection of blankets were lain about upon the ground, and the group collectively lounged on them. Chip glared at a plate of what appeared to be jerky. They'd not really packed many gems, the grains and vegetables had gone to the ponies, and the salted meat had been left to him. His stomach growled. The griffons had caught something presumably edible and Ruff was sharing what meagre food Mishka had trapped herself.

He probably could have insisted. He wasn't pack though, and begging from the alpha was beneath a dragon. Which meant he would suffer with jerky. His stomach growled again.

With a sigh, Carmine clawed over something dead and disemboweled. Strangely enough, Chip found himself drooling. He gave her a look of thanks.

"Shut it, dufus, and enjoy," Carmine said with a scowl, as she fished out some jerky to supplement what remained on her plate. Before she'd turned back, half the goods on Chip's plate had vanished into his maw. She shook her head, laughing softly.

Hairpin, hovering nervously outside the circle and chewing on the grasses and other plants growing wild, whispered, "That's how it starts, you know." She ducked away and laughed as Carmine threw an empty cup at her.

"Mishka," Chip asked, "what are you doing here? Are you alone? Where is your pack?"

Mishka stiffened for a moment. Her blind eyes sought out Ruff, who patted her knee awkwardly as she sat, cross-legged.

"It okay, can tell."

"Pack gone," Mishka said, finally. "Mishka alone. But... Mishka not alone. Mishka have garden, and Mishka have cave. And Mishka have... had... Mishka had duty."

"What were you protecting, Mishka?" Chip whispered.

The words, when Mishka spoke them next, were forlorn and filled with so very, very much sadness. "Home."

The troll wandered through her garden. It was small, neat, and relatively orderly. In it grew an odd, eclectic mix of flowers, shrubs, bushes and trees. Mishka put her paws out, touching a leaf here and there, caressing a plant.

"Mishka often wonder what her garden is like. Mishka... never see. Never seen sun. Father say sun big ball in the sky. Mishka feels the sun, smells the plants, can touch... maybe is enough?"

"It's beautiful, Mishka," said Bella with a smile. The unicorn tasted and tested, sniffing and smelling her way through the cornucopia of aromas. "I didn't know diamond dogs, well, grew anything."

Mishka barked a mocking laugh. "Diamond dogs are of the ground! It is our element. Foolish pony."

Bella stuck her tongue out. "The diamond dogs we've met are... different."

"There are more?" Mishka spun, suddenly. Almost tripping in her haste to get to Bella, she all but leaped at the filly. "Tell Mishka truth!"

"Of course there are. Ruff here is from Tacksworn, we've got a whole pack living in the area. Two, now."

"Two packs?"

"There's another three further down south, and a many more all over Equestria... I don't know how many. Hundreds of thousands, millions?"

"Millions?!" squeaked Mishka. She fell to her haunches, clutching her chest. "But, but..."

"We came through rainbow bridge," added Ruff. "To escape the great burning."

Mishka's breath caught in her throat. "The lost tribe," she hissed, "the lost king. Oh, Mishka so foolish! Mishka protect home from dragon, stories tell dragons enslaved the lost pack, and then... and then dragon appear in our world. We thought it attack! Mishka guard..." Mishka started to laugh, bitterly, as tears streamed down her cheeks. "Mishka guard home from nothing."

"My father," Chip stated, "came through this path, hundreds of years ago. He was an explorer, nothing else. We just... wanted to see. Please? It is important to me."

Mishka nodded. "Mishka show. The Way is closed, home is no more. Take... you take Mishka home?"

"Sure," Chip said, after a brief glance at his friends. "You can come with us, to Tacksworn."

"Mishka go home, then. Mishka... will miss her flowers. Will miss her hut. Mishka prepared to spend last of her days here, amongst the flowers, but it so lonely. Mishka no longer alone?"

"You can join Ruff's pack!" Ruff answered, affirmatively.

"Mishka join king? How many in King Ruff's pack?"

"Just..." The pup's lips moved as he counted. "Just seven," said Ruff, "but... is good pack!"

♠♣♥♦

The small group stood in a rough semicircle, peering into the cave, none of them entirely willing to make the first move. Finally, it was Chip who spoke up. "I think we should go in."

"Mishka will lead way, if dragon is to be supplying light? Mishka no need," the old dog smiled, sadly, "but know others do."

"Bella?" Chip asked, turning to his friend.

"I can do that," the unicorn stated, nodding with finality.

"Mishka know way. Rock speak to Mishka, tells Mishka all. You, dragon, follow carefully."

"Ruff come too," argued Ruff, "I must see... home. What there is of it"

"If you think I came this far to let you go alone, Chip, you've got another thing coming," squawked Carmine.

"I'm coming too, Master," chimed in Hairpin, but Chip shook his head.

"No, Pin. You have to stay out here. If anything happens to us, you have to get help from Dad. You're the only one who can move fast enough, long enough."

"But—" the pegasus complained.

Chip just glared. "I said no."

"Yes, master." Hairpin looked at the ground.

"Cheer up," said Beth, placing a claw on the pegasus' withers. "Caves aren't my thing. Neither's crawling about in the darkness with those two pecking at each other, so I'll be out here with you, and Penny."

Chip blushed and Carmine's feathers fluffed up.

"Oh leave off, Beth," Penny snorted. "They're cute together."

Chip grinned like an idiot at that, whilst Carmine fluffed even further.

Mishka and Ruff headed in first, followed by Bella, who lit up her horn as the daylight faded. Chip followed them, watching with barely constrained awe at Mishka, and how she would duck and weave through the cave. Seemingly at random she would put out a paw, and touch a rock here or an outcropping there. She could never lose herself in these caverns, he realized. They were at her mercy now, if they could not follow their own assorted hoof- and paw-prints out. He would just have to hope she were being sincere in her offer. The thought unnerved him, causing little jets of flame to spurt from his nostrils as he huffed in worry.

Carmine followed him, keeping her wings tight against her back, her tufty lions tail flicking in agitation. The cave was large, with a sandy floor, but the sense of confinement was growing on her and she didn't like it. Whatever was eating Chip, she could tell it wasn't the caves. Dragons and caves, she realized, went together like blood and hunting.

Chip's hooves scuffed through the silvery grains, leaving tracks rather than hoof-prints. As they headed further in, the ceiling lowered drastically to a thinner passageway. Stalactites hung from the ceiling and stalagmites poked up from the floor, like long dried teeth. Faint currents of air drifted through the enclosed spaces, whistling faintly. They took passage after passage, always heading upwards. Chip realized he could smell what seemed like fresh air, but it was tainted with a coppery taste which set his teeth on edge and raised his hackles.

"This way, we almost there now. Mishka know. Mother show, many time. Over floor painting."

"Guys, guys," called Chip, as Ruff stepped towards it. "Stop a second." Chip trotted quickly forwards, with Carmine in tow. Shouldering his way past, he pawed at the ground. The silt was thin as the cavern gave way to the dark passage, and Chip's ministrations uncovered a set of grooves in the bedrock.

"What is that?" squaked Carmine, head-tilting.

"That's the Diamond Expanse sigil. This is Sharptooth's work, he... I think it's magic. Can't you taste it?"

Bella nodded, slowly. "I can feel it. I don't know what it's for, but there's a spell here."

"Maybe... maybe this is how it's anchored to the map? It looks old, though. Dad said we shouldn't try to pass through..."

"We not pass through," Ruff said, eyes gleaming. "We just... look, okay? Look is safe, right?"

"Right. I-I guess so," replied Chip, unsure. He flicked his tail thoughtfully as Mishka forged ahead.

The tunnel was cramped and close, and the walls loomed in the semi-darkness. The tinny, metallic taste was everywhere, now. It was making even Chip feel skittish; it was as if there were voices speaking or some strange music being played, far away, with the volume just too low to be heard. Strange shapes flitted about in the corners of the eye, and the echoing steps of the band alternately sounded loudly and then quietly... sometimes reverberating along the corridor seconds in advance of any movement.

"D-do we have to go on?" whimpered Bella, her horn's light wavering as fear swept through the unicorn.

"Not far now," Mishka answered, whispering. "Where tunnel end, there is home." The female diamond dog pointed off into the distance. Chip looked down the tunnel, and felt momentarily sick, like he was moving at high speed, but yet the surrounding walls were not. He shook his head, it was thrumming. It felt as if the world were the wrong shape. It probably was, he realized.

"Ruff... Ruff see something! Bella, please be turning off horn."

"It's okay, Bell," whispered Carmine, as a low moan escaped the unicorn with the dimming of the light. "I'm here with you."

Bella breathed heavily, shivering as sweat coated her flanks. "O-okay, Car. It's okay. I'm okay."

"Ruff," hissed Chip as the corridor plunged into absolute darkness. "Whatever it is, hurry up! Even I'm beginning to freak out here!"

"Ruff see something!" the diamond dog repeated urgently. He leaped forwards, pulling on Bella's legs and causing her to shriek. The troll pulled them further down the tunnel, his padded pawsteps echoing strangely. As the group moved in the darkness, with Ruff growling to have Bella turn off her horn's magelight every time she tried to light it up, Chip felt increasingly strange. His fur was standing on end, and it felt as if his armor were giving off tingling shocks, like miniature bolts of lightning.

"Ruff, we need to turn back!"

"Further! Ruff see light!"

"Ruff," snapped Chip, setting all four hooves in the ground. "No! We need to stop!"

"A bit further! Ruff sees light!" There was a yelp as the tunnel got too narrow for even the pup to fit through and he walked into the wall.

"That's it, Ruff, end of the line. Let's go back, whatever was here—"

"Is still here! Ruff can almost... can almost reach!"

"Bella, light it up! Ruff, what in Celestia's name are you doing?!"

The unicorn's horn flared into viridian light, and the sudden green flash blinded almost everybody. When Chip could see again, the diamond dog pup was whining and scrabbling at the rocks with a painful urgency. With every swipe, however, the cave was ringing like a bell, and debris was beginning to rain from the ceiling.

"I see light! Let Ruff see light! Ruff dig!"

Chip swore another oath to Celestia and Luna, and bent to pick up the pup and drag him away from the end of the tunnel, but as he did, a flash of golden sunlight caught his eye. Moving his head back and forth, Chip got the angle right. There it was! Light, not only light, but sunlight! The colours were odd though, and the more he looked, the more the colt swore he could almost smell the wind and feel the breeze on his face. "Ruff's right! I have to... I must..." Chip struck out with his hooves, trying to dig.

It called to him, did the light. It sang of treasure, of knowledge, of power. It resonated in his blood, whispered how he could just... reach out and twist the world, and it would all be his. His iron-shod hooves cleaved the rock, and great lumps fell off. He threw himself against the crack which was widening, and only fell back when Carmine physically bit him hard on the ear and pulled. He came to, sprawled on the floor, shaking his head. Ruff was still whining and scrabbling, but with every blow, the tunnel was now not merely rumbling, but shaking, as the foundations were failing

"Ruff!" Chip shouted. "You have to stop! You're going to bring the mountain down!" The colt shook his head, memories of the strange crack surfacing. It had been entrancing, like music playing on his bones, like singing in his blood. He placed a hoof against the rock wall, and realized how unreal it all felt. He looked back along the tunnel and shivered.

"Treasure claim all," sighed Mishka. "All who see it. In past, was big enough to get stuck. Those who try, not come out."

"Well we're leaving, Mishka. Get us out of here!"

"Mishka take shortcut if have to. Come, follow!"

"Guys, we have to go!" shouted Chip, nodding at Carmine. There were no dissenting opinions. "Ruff, quit fighting it! Guys! Now!" Chip started shouting, scrambling over himself to get up. Dragging the protesting Ruff backwards by his shirt, Chip started running. He didn't care that not everybody else had got to their hooves or claws, he had to move, and he had to move now. It was not a time for dithering or debating; it was a time for action. Calling upon an inner rage and drive that set flames billowing around his nostrils, he picked up speed, with his friends shouting and scrambling to catch up behind him as the tunnel started to collapse around them all.

The odd, sour note which had been running through Chip's body escalated, to a ringing rumble as the bedrock shifted. Behind them, the tunnel walls sloughed off, shedding huge lumps of stone. Whatever Ruff had done, it had caused some sort of chain reaction. If they weren't fast enough in getting out, Chip realized, they likely never would. "Don't stop," huffed Chip around the mouthful of pup, flames licking his chest as he breathed like a bellows, "don't look back. Just move!"

"No!" howled Ruff. "Ruff must dig!"

"Luna's teats! Somepony stop him!" roared Chip through clenched jaws, but it was too late. Ruff spun, hooked one claw across his shirt, where Chip held it fast in his teeth, and tugged. He sprung free as the cloth ripped, his claw slicing through it like a hot knife through butter, and he turned back, bounding down the tunnel.

"We can't let him!" screamed Bella.

"We can't stop him! We'll all die! RUN FOR IT!" Carmine spread her wings in her haste as they sped through the tunnel complex.

"Dragon," huffed Mishka, "follow path down. Always down. Mishka has left claw marks in the ground. Dragon will see."

"What?" bellowed Chip, slowing down. He turned his head, almost falling over himself as Mishka stopped, and turned. The others shot past. "Go ahead! I'll catch up!" he shouted, before glaring once more at Mishka. "Mishka, what in the name of all the cracked shells and shards of Leviathania are you doing?"

"Mishka... protect king. Mishka protect you. Run!"

Chip looked back up the tunnel where Ruff was. "If you can save his life, I owe you."

"Mishka owe life to king first. Go! Go! Only Mishka know way in dark!"

Chip snarled. He couldn't abandon Ruff, but he was the only member of their party now who could shatter stone on impact. He made the call.

Mishka looked sightlessly for a moment as Chips hoofed it down the tunnel, sparks flying from his metal-shod hooves and hot, angry red fire spewed from his muzzle. She listened intently to the sounds of his passage, sniffing at the wake of fire and brimstone the strange creature had left. Then she turned, faced the sheer rock wall, put her two forepaws together in front of her, and wrenched the rock wall apart. In moments, she had torn open the beginnings of a tunnel, and moments after that was already heading back to Ruff. Behind her, the rock split in a faultline which zagged off into the distance. The systematic collapse changed direction. It mightn't give them much, Mishka reasoned, but it might be enough.

Carmine sobbed, warbling to herself, as she rounded the final corner and met glaring, blinding daylight. Mere feet ahead was the exit, sun shining brightly and beckoning them to safety. As boulders and stalactites fell from the shadowy rock ceiling high above, the dragon, the griffon and the pony made a final leap and burst out onto grass as a huge shower of dust and debris followed them from the cave.

Bella, wheezing, fell to the floor, flailed one hoof at the billowing cloud of dust. "Ruff!" she cried, gasping for breath, "Mishka! Ruff!"

Chip could only snarl out a few, short words as he shook the detritus from his back. "Damn it all, Ruff."

♠♣♥♦

There and Back Again

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds

The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═══════════════════════════════════════

Chapter 10
There and Back Again
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

The cave is protesting, rumbling in warning, but still Ruff digs at the crack. The light calls to him, deep inside. Some ancient yearning striving for fulfillment. He has to break through! He must! Suddenly, rocks bouncing off his skull send stars shooting through his vision and the contact with the glorious sliver of home is lost. He blinks; he's deep underground, he has no idea how to get out, and the whole cave system is collapsing around him. He is, quite probably, not going to live to regret it. Turning around and around, the frightened pup whines and screams, scrabbling as best he can.

The falling debris worsens... but just when Ruff thinks the end has come, a large form bursts from a newly dug tunnel in the rock wall, shielding him as huge chunks of granite and limestone topple from the ceiling.

"Mishka!" he shouts out, grabbing onto her legs tightly.

"Yes, Ruff, Mishka here. Ruff must help now. Ruff must dig, we must go!"

"But," Ruff cries, wincing as debris rains around him, "Ruff not know how!"

"Claws. Rock. Rock, claws. That is all. Place paws here, feel rock. Rock talk to you. Tell rock: move! Do not dig with claws. Dig with heart!"

The elder troll puts her paws onto his, guiding him. Scooping a hold of the wall itself, Ruff feels an electric tingle race through his body as the ancient magic of the diamond dogs courses through him. It is as if another set of eyes he never knew he had have opened, it's an explosion of sensations. The rock itself is talking to him. Every vibration, every tremor passes through him like a mutual conversation. The veins of precious metals in the rock sing to him, the scent of gems wafts through his nostrils, the tantalizing touch of water in fissures miles deep runs across his hide. He can never be lost underground, he realizes, never. Mishka falters as a large lump breaks loose from the ceiling, smashing onto her back and driving her to the ground. She cries out, weakened and shaken, but Ruff grows stronger. Now he is the one digging, parting the rock, telling it to split with the force of his mind as much as his claws. But he tires. It is slow going. It is exhausting. He fears it is futile, but still he fights on...

♠♣♥♦

Carmine trembled as she gasped for breath, her feathers fluffing out in time with her heaving sides. She was breathing heavily, lying on one side on the ground, shedding dust, coughing spasmodically. Bella wasn't much happier, having collapsed to her knees. Chip, though, stood numbly before the dark crevice in the rock, catching his breath.

The rumbling crash of rocks. Screams in the darkness. Silence. Dust.

Chip shook himself and trotted forwards. And stopped when a claw grabbed his tail by the bolas.

"Stop, Chip," croaked Carmine, as she heaved herself up. "There's nothing you can do."

"I can still save them," said Chip, his voice sounding distant even to his own ears.

Carmine shook her head in the negative, and then shook herself head to tail. "You can't, really you can't. Tons of rock, tens of feet of collapsed tunnels. You're not a diamond dog. The only creature that would have a hope is—"

There came the faintest of scrabbling noises. Chip perked his ears up and he motioned Carmine to silence. Scree settled as it rattled down the mountain. Chip held his breath, the pounding of his heart the only thing he could hear... he'd been so sure!

"Chip?" Carmine hesitantly asked, letting go of the colt's tail.

"Do you hear that?" Chip danced backwards, flanking Carmine.

The griffon stretched her wings out, blinking, her head moving left and right as she struggled to discern that which had caught Chip's attention. "I'm not su—"

"I think I hear something too!" Bella shouted. She ran to one side, and placed a hoof on the bare rock. "It's from under here!"

Chip dashed over, shouldering the filly roughly aside in his haste. He turned his head and flicked his ears about, listening intently, then he slowly raised one hoof and struck the mountainside in a single, clear blow. Chip motioned for silence, and placed one ear against the rock. Seconds passed, the colt straining to hold his breath, and then it came. An answering tap, tap from deep underground.

"It's them!" Chip shouted. Grunting with effort, Chip struck again, and again. And again. Sparks flew and slivers of rock-shrapnel hissed through the air as the valley rang with the sound of smashing rock. Bella stood watching Chip for a few moments, a mixture of irritation and hurt crossing her brow, before she gently laid a hoof on Chip's withers.

"Chip," she called out. "Chip!" The second time, she spoke louder.

The colt paused briefly, blinking. "What?" he asked in a distracted tone of voice.

Bella had to fight to keep his attention as the sweat-soaked colt sought to leap at the rock-face in a frantic rush of senseless digging. Urgency was writ large across his face as his head swung to and fro between the face of one friend and the seemingly impenetrable barrier between another. "We do this together, okay? Two heads are better than one. We're all here together. You can't tear that mountain down alone."

Finally, intellect won. "Y-you're right. You're right." Chip stood there breathing for a few moments, gathering himself, then he and Bella nodded to each other. Small smiles graced their muzzles, and they both turned back to the cliff. As Bella used what magics she could to shift the rubble split off by Chip's furious kicks, Carmine and Beth joined in, dragging the stones further, their claws screeching in stacatto bursts as they tore through the rock. The pair shifted what rubble they could away with their foreclaws and hind legs.

Hairpin and Penny circled above, motion being the only solace from worry.

"They've found him, right? Tell me they found him?" begged Penny.

"They're doing their best, hon, they're doing all they can." Hairpin comforted the younger pegasus with soothing words, though the truth was, she was just as anxious. "Let the master and Bella dig, Car and Beth are hauling the debris. They'll get through, I promise."

"How can you say that?" yelled Penny, flicking her tail in annoyance, her eyes white with distress.

"Ruff's a diamond dog, if anything could survive a cave-in, it's a diamond dog. The rock to them is like the air to us; you'll see," Hairpin replied, almost believing it herself. "You'll see."

The two pegasi circled above the makeshift work-crew, unable to do much but watch as the rocks and stones fairly flew from the mountain. Suddenly, something gave way and Chip's hoof plunged through into a fissure. Hairpin saw him stumble, and she cried out, but was waved off by Carmine. Hairpin remained airborne, nervously hovering, seeking to protect, console and aid her master. As the colt pulled his leg out, a plume of dust followed, billowing forth and enveloping them all. Coughing, the pegasus finally landed and shouldered her way closer.

Carmine and Beth swept their wings back and forth to clear the air, revealing a small, dark hole in the pile of rubble. As the dust settled, Hairpin heard the sounds of laboured breathing and coughing, petering off into silence.

Chip could see nothing as he all but threw himself into the breach. "Ruff!?" he called frantically, his muzzle pressed roughly up against the mountain. His nostrils flared as he breathed heavily. "Miskha!?" Chip took a few steps back and waited, heart thudding in his chest. As the seconds passed, turning into a minute or more, what brief hope he had held began to flicker and die. Chip fell back onto his haunches, head drooping. Silence reigned.

Suddenly a small, bloodied, dirty paw rose from the crevice, clawing weakly at the sides of the hole. Chip looked up, his hopes renewed.

"Ruff?" he called, scrambling over. "Ruff! You're okay!"

The paw waved about in the air, before coming to rest on Chip's muzzle. "Ruff not sure," the pup said, chuckling between coughs, "but Ruff thinks Ruff lives."

"You're alive," Bella replied, prancing forward with tears in her eyes. "You're alive."

"Please," huffed the troll pup, the voice echoing from the hole was weak but audible, "please help... Ruff cannot dig alone."

"We'll get you out," affirmed Bella, as she redoubled her efforts to free her friend. Ruff didn't slouch either, bloodied paws scrabbling at the hole and pulling chunks off until it was enlarged enough that the diamond dog pup could fit his head up through it. He choked up, wheezing and crying, huffing and puffing in long, drawn-out sobs as four forms leaped forwards to help and comfort the traumatized diamond dog.

Bella awkwardly entwined her head with Ruff's. "You're okay now, you're okay. It's alright."

"Ruff okay, but please help Mishka! Please help!" the pup whined, voice muffled as he fought once more from the inside to make his path to salvation bigger.

"Get back then! Far as you can!" Chip shouted, watching and listening intently until he heard Ruff give the all clear and the clatter of hooves and paws as his friends dashed to safely faded away. Once done, Chip turned around, peering over his haunches at the rock before he lifted his tail, shaking it out carefully and tapping his hooves one at time on the rim of the hole. Then he trotted forwards, turned around again and set his shoulders. Giving a heavy snort and pawing at the ground, he galloped at the rock, spun, and whipped out with his tail. The bolas struck mercilessly, again and again, the stones shattering under the onslaught. In one final, mighty explosion, the rock face burst open completely, and Ruff stumbled into warm sunlight. With one paw, he dragged himself out of the hole. With the other, he held Mishka's tattered clothing in a death-grip that the pup's friends could not shake. Slowly, so very slowly, the prone form of the elderly diamond dog came free.

"Mishka!" shouted Ruff, falling to his knees and shaking the elder troll.

Mishka coughed, flailing impotently with her paws, before she opened her eyes. "King?"

"Ruff is no king," he sobbed. "Ruff just pup. Please be okay? Please, Mishka?"

Mishka laughed weakly, her chuckles devolving into a rattling cough. "Ruff, you bring ponies, you bring giffons. You even bring dragons. Only kings do such. Mishka proud to call you king." The troll whined, struggling to move. "Mishka can not move legs. Mishka think she not be coming with you. Mishka think... Mishka think she stay here."

"No!" shouted Ruff. "No! Mishka must come home! Must!"

"Pup, listen to Mishka now." Mishka coughed, painfully, her breath rattling in her lungs. Clearing her throat, spitting out a reddish glob of phlegm that rolled down her cheek and dripped onto the dusty green grass, she continued, "Take staff. Is king's staff. Is now your staff. Mishka's pack was sent to find lost tribe as much as guard home. You now take this duty. Please? Mishka... cannot do it any more. Find lost tribe, tell them of home. Staff will show them the way. Promise?"

"Ruff... Ruff promise." The pup squeezed his eyes shut as he hugged the elder troll. Tears stained her clothing as a wrinkled paw patted him softly.

"Thank you. Mishka did good? Mishka faithful?"

"Mishka very faithful. Mishka do good." Ruff's voice was small, muffled.

Mishka smiled. "That make Mishka very—"

"Mishka?" whispered Ruff, raising his head. "Mishka?"

Mishka just lay there, smiling, her eyes staring off into forever.

♠♣♥♦

Overhead, the sun was shining. Distantly, against the backdrop of the sibilant rush of the wind rustling through the grasses, could be heard the melodious calls of songbirds. Insects wended their way from flower to flower, basking in the forever-spring of the lost glen.

In the outskirts of the broken-down village, near the shack so recently vacated, was a garden. It was vast and unkempt, but with a timeless, rugged beauty all of its own. A riot of colours dotted the landscape, and the very earth itself teemed with life.

In the centre lay a modest pile of rocks. Off to one side stood a small, eclectic group of creatures, somberly watching one smaller creature add one, final rock to the pile.

"It is done," Ruff said, standing straighter. He sniffed, wiping a bandaged paw across his muzzle. He turned away, and Bella embraced him as best as she could.

"It's okay, Ruff," said the unicorn, "you did what you could. You tried."

"But," Ruff replied, eyes shining with tears as he gazed up at her face, "it was Ruff's fault!"

"No, Ruff, it wasn't your fault. Mishka warned us. She had to have known what might happen. Maybe she thought... maybe she thought you could get her home." Bella held him with one forehoof, gently nuzzling his ears until the pup stopped crying. "Not everypony makes it home."

"Stand back, Ruff, everyone," Chip said. He stood before the cairn silently for a few moments, and then he took a deep breath. Closing his eyes, the colt took a deliberate and bracing stance. His whole body taut with concentration, he opened both eyes and muzzle, and exhaled. White-hot flames bathed the cairn, the draconic breath rushing out in a prolonged roar of tortured air and rock. When it finally died, the carefully placed pile of stones had fused as one. Chip breathed heavily, the last of the flames flickering out as they played around his muzzle.

Beth's beak fell open in shock and Carmine's head-feathers raised as the pair took in the scene.

"I thought you had trouble with fire?" the latter asked.

"I didn't know if I could do that," Chip said as he gave a small, sad smile, "but I'm glad I did."

"Could've warned us," Bella said, checking her tail for burn marks.

"I thought I had," Chip replied nonchalantly. "She won't be disturbed, now."

"Dragons," huffed Bella, sharing a glance with Beth.

Carmine glared at Hairpin, who nickered in laughter at the griffon's words. "One crack about me getting used to it, and I'll pluck you bald."

Penny chuckled quietly, trotting around the red-hot, molten cairn, examining it in awe. The grasses surrounding it had flash-burned to ash, and even where she was standing, the radiating heat was almost too much for the pegasus to bear. She shook her head in wonder, and turned to leave, following the small procession.

"Come on Ruff," Bella said finally, lifting the grieving pup onto her back by the thick scruff of his neck. "Time to go."

Ruff sat forlornly on the shoulders of the lavender unicorn, one paw twirled into her green mane for balance as he gazed at the garden. He watched stoically as the mound faded into the distance. He finally sniffled once and then turned around to gaze forwards. "Ruff make Mishka proud," he whispered under his breath.

"What's that, pup?" asked Bella.

Ruff blushed slightly, but cleared his throat and spoke up. "Mama always says: 'What lies before was greater, but what lies ahead is greater still.' Ruff will make Mishka proud. Ruff will deliver the staff to his pack; tell them of home."

Bella chuckled. "It's not everyday you find a piece of history like that; that staff must be ancient! I wonder what she meant by 'it will show them the way'?"

"Ruff show, Ruff get staff first," said Ruff, mysteriously. As Mishka's hut neared, Ruff hopped down from his perch and ran to pick up the staff from the now-empty dwelling. He examined its smooth, worn surface and the ancient runic writing there for a few moments, before trotting back to Bella. He motioned for her to carry him again, and she complied. He squealed helplessly as she grabbed him by the scruff of his neck again, dangling in her grasp like a lost kitten. Once he was safely ensconced on her back, he began to talk. "Staffs tell stories. Stories tell of staffs. Staff in story of High King tells of journey from home realm, of royal jewels and royal palace." Ruff grew silent for a moment, before continuing in a thoughtful manner. "Staff belongs to king; is great weapon that only king may use. It opens High King's castle; is magical—"

"Wait," Chip interrupted, as he trotted closer to the pair. "You're telling me that the staff in your story had some sort of instructions on it?"

"Was story of journey," Ruff corrected, one paw raised.

"Like a map," Chip retorted in a level voice. The colt swallowed heavily; the words had just fallen out of his muzzle, but their truth rang in his mind like a bell. "Just like a map."

Ruff opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again, stymied. Then he looked down at the staff he held, turning it around and around as he stared at it. "Ruff... guess so? Maybe?"

"Riddles! Always riddles! Always maps!" Chip stomped his hooves in anger. "Ruff, what happened to the High King's staff?"

"High King's staff was broken into four pieces, sent to all corners of world."

Chip stiffened, blinking. Then he turned to the diamond dog. "Ruff, what if the story of the High King isn't only a story? I mean it's wrong; I think it's mixed up with old stories from before, when you guys came through that Way that Sharptooth found, but what if there really was some... pack leader of pack leaders?"

"King was Alpha of Alphas," said Ruff with a nod, agreeing.

"How come you don't have one now?" pressed Chip.

"Ruff not know, but there is a legend."

"Let me guess – the king will return?" Chip raised one eyebrow.

"Uh huh." Ruff nodded to Chip.

"With his magic staff," Bella added, sharing a glance with Chip.

"And his jewels, I bet," Chip finished. Chip sat down on his haunches, staring at the ground with a furious intensity that threatened to ignite the grass. "You guys don't have a high king, but you have stories of one; oral stories, and at least one book written by somepony long ago." When Chip looked up, Ruff found it hard to meet his gaze. "Stories important enough to kill my parents over... what if Lord Sapphire thought that a staff like the one in the story actually was a map? And that my parents had found one?"

"If High King returns, then all packs will follow High King. All packs come from High King's pack." Ruff wrung his paws as Chip growled low, deep in his throat. It was a very un-ponylike action. Ruff glanced at his friend, and didn't see a pony. He saw a dragon; calm, focused, and filled with a terrible sense of purpose.

Carmine clicked her beak nervously, feathers ruffling as a chill seemingly swept through. She looked anew at the strange colt who had literally fallen into her life such a short time ago. At first, he'd been all knees, tail and mane. Now he was steadfast, determined and somehow more real. She shook her head. He was pony shaped, but he wasn't a pony, not any more. She wondered, fearfully, where it would end.

"Swiftwing wanted to control the entire Diamond Dog Nation," hissed Chip. "And he thought my parents' deaths would help get him there." The colt had felt sad, but no longer. He had shed all the tears he ever would. Now the dragon felt angry. Beneath his stoic façade churned the burning rage of a true son of the Diamond Expanse clan. He fed that rage, yet tightened his grip upon it. He would not allow it to boil over just yet. "He wasn't looking for the diamond dog home realm; he was looking for the king's jewels. He wanted to put his own High King on the throne. He was hunting jewels that never were, a throne that doesn't exist and a king that died over a millennium ago."

"Because he thought a staff like that was a map," agreed Carmine, butting in, sharing glances with Beth and the two pegasi. "There probably was a staff, long ago. Maybe—"

Chip's blood ran cold. "Ice and ashes!" shouted Chip, interrupting. "If anybody finds out about this staff, we'll have every would-be despot from here to the griffon kingdoms after it, all because of some ridiculous story! We've got to destroy it!"

"No!" Ruff snarled, baring his fangs. "Mishka gave this staff to Ruff! Ruff keep it!"

"Then we need to get it to safety! To keep it a secret! To make sure it's put where it cannot cause trouble. Ruff, I don't think you want to have your parents die over a stupid legend." Chip glared.

Ruff flinched, gripping the staff worriedly. "No. Ruff not want that." The pup looked down, at his feet.

"Then we're agreed. Get it to safety, find out if it has some sort of message and then work out how to stop everybody getting the wrong idea once we do know what it says."

"Ruff can read staff," the pup stated nonchalantly. Six pairs of eyes snapped to the little pup, and he blushed. "Ruff not so good at ancient writing, but... Ruff can read it."

"You can!?" Chip asked, taken aback.

"Is in same language as book."

"What does it say?"

"Is message from High King of home realm... or King's brother, Ruff not sure."

"So the alpha of alphas has an alpha?"

Ruff head-tilted, looked down at the staff held in his paws and then back up. And shrugged. "Lost tribe not lost any longer, welcome to come home... something about a sky-beast..."

"I think that might be my dad," chuckled Chip. "It sounds like your old high king was really just an alpha, and he accidentally found his way to Equestria. Maybe he got lost in some Way, maybe that's what that 'burning sky' was about. I don't know... but they couldn't get home. And then all these old stories from your home realm—"

"Got mixed with the adventures of that alpha!" finished Penny, who'd been silent up until then.

"So it's not a map," sighed Chip, as he continued walking. "I guess that's that, then."

"There is more to message, Ruff need time to read it all," said Ruff, waving his staff in the air. Bella glared as it glanced off her horn.

"You'll have time, it's your staff after all. The more you can tell us, the better. If we know it's not some mythical map, maybe we can convince anyone else who finds out about it that it isn't, before they do something stupid."

There was a chorus of agreement as the group continued to pick their way through the lengthening undergrowth. Shortly, the wagon came into sight and they left the town and its memories behind them. With lighter hearts, the group of friends made ready to depart. They checked their belongings, searching through and securing the last of the preserved or dried food and other supplies, and tieing down what luggage remained. Shortly, everything essential had been packed and the wagon was ready. Mock-scowling at Bella, Ruff and Chip for her renewed burden, Penny struggled into the first harness whilst Hairpin helped fasten the straps. Then Hairpin repeated the maneuver and was assisted herself by Ruff and Chip.

"Time to go home?" Hairpin asked, grinning.

"Yes please, Pin," Chip said, chuckling. "Thanks, guys. Thanks for everything."

"Don't get me wrong, dufus," Carmine said, sidling up to Chip and poking him in the nose with a talon, "but let's not do this again soon." She tried to scowl, but couldn't keep it up long, and soon everyone was laughing.

A few minutes later, two griffons rose in the air, followed by a chariot drawn by two pegasi. The diverse group of friends circled a few times, catching the updrafts, before banking and finding their final heading. With a great flurry of wings, they were gone.

♠♣♥♦

The sun hung suspended in the azure blanket of the sky, as timeless and eternal as the hidden valley itself. Silence reigned in the deserted village. Its streets rang no more with the clamouring of barking, busy diamond dogs. The only noises other than that of the birds, insects and other wild animals was the soft pling of cooling rock from a small mound in the garden.

Rocks crunched underfoot as two sleek forms made their unhurried way down the mountain. They ruffled their batlike wings as they moved, glaring about. Slitted pupils took in the scenery and thick nostrils flared as they investigated, their iron-shod extremities cleaving all in their path.

The garden was investigated, and the still-warm, glassy tomb was examined.

"They have it," said the first.

"The mistress must be informed," the other replied as he tapped a glowing jewel in his breast plate. In a brief, multi-coloured explosion of light, a glowing sphere of magic appeared. It hung motionless before the two forms. Both bowed, not raising their eyes

"Report, my minions." The feminine voice that issued forth was haughty and proud, and would brook no insolence.

"They have the staff. The guardian is dead. What shall we do, Mistress?"

"Pursue them. I would have that staff for myself." It was framed as a request, though it was anything but.

"Thy will be done."

The glowing orb of light dissipated, and the two bat-winged forms took to the skies.

♠♣♥♦

Lady Akhekhu simmered from her weyr. Prostrate before her were four diamond dogs, whimpering and shivering with fear. Not one of them dared look up.

"You come before me... with nothing?" She spoke carefully, her tone measured and calm. The silence stretched as she regarded the four cowering dogs with distracted attention. She picked her foreclaws with her teeth, biting away at them until they were sharp and clean. Idly, she dragged one claw along the wall and floor of her throne-room. "No,” she drawled. “You come to me with less than nothing. An upstart mongrel usurps my clan's honour and claims a good number of your worthless hides as his own thralls, whilst you return to me with empty paws, begging forgiveness, your pathetic tails stuffed between your pathetic, useless legs."

None of the four spoke, each discretely sneaking furtive and panicked glances at the others.

Akhekhu inhaled deeply and sighed, holding one immaculate talon to her temple. "I should have expected less, and then I may have been pleasantly surprised. Or at least less frustrated. I tire. Feed me. You, fetch a platter of gemstones." The dragon gestured, torchlight glinting off her gleaming, alabaster claws and her deep blue scales. The troll yelped as if physically reprimanded and bolted from the room. Still the other three daren't move a muscle.

Akhekhu sighed again as she re-settled herself into the hollow depression in the floor of the cave, tucking in her great wings. "No matter. My idiot nephew ever was deficient in wit, his ambitions far outstripping his abilities. Perhaps this 'Chiphoof', petty mongrel hatchling that he is, will prove entertaining for a while. My faithful hounds, you dwell amongst Chiphoof's slaves." The dragoness traced a claw around the quivering trolls, tail lashing every so slightly. "You are my eyes and ears. We may yet force our quarry to bolt, where before it was ensconced deep and safe, out of my reach. If only I could be assured of your true devotion to your mistress. You, stop breathing."

Akhekhu pointed a claw at the middle-most troll. The diamond dog whimpered, but shut his muzzle, clamping his paws over his nostrils. Seconds passed, then a minute, and the mutt began to shake, eyes pleading. His mistress ignored him as the first diamond dog re-entered with a silver platter, upon which was heaped a generous amount of precious stones.

"Stand, slave. Raise the platter." The dragon heaved herself slowly to her claws, stretching her wings one after another, her joints popping and cracking. She glanced at the troll that she had told to remain breathless. He had fallen to his side and was jerking spasmodically as his body desperately tried to draw breath, the binding command from his owner denying him release. The twitching grew more frantic until the doomed creature suddenly slumped. Akhekhu strode past without another look, her tail sweeping his body into the darker corners of the cave. Leaning down, she daintily picked a single jewel from the pile between her claw-tips, and lifted it up. Then she let it fall into the neatly collected pile held high above her slave's head. With a noisome, cacophonous clatter, the gems scattered across the floor.

"See, slaves? See what carelessness can do? And when you are careless, I pay the price. This displeases me. In this case, the solution is easy..."

Akhekhu’s long neck whipped forward, her mighty jaws snapping shut around the platter-bearing diamond dog, plate and all, before he could so much as flinch. She lifted him up bodily, grabbing his kicking legs with one claw before casually ripping them away. His screams echoed throughout the cavern as she opened her mouth again, throwing his legs in before crunching noisily. His screams ended with a sickening finality; she masticated the creature as lazily as if she were chewing a mere piece of rock, before swallowing.

"I do so hate object lessons, they leave such a bad taste in my mouth. Watch the upstart. Report on his actions. Do as he may bid you. Wait for further orders. You are dismissed."

♠♣♥♦

"Okay, let's just get up above the cloud-layer. I'll take a look at the map," said Chip, unrolling the odd creation carefully within the cramped confines of the chariot.

"Going back, we don't have to go the way we came, right?" asked Penny, craning her head back.

Hairpin shook her mane out. "Naa, I don't think so."

"I hope not," stated Bella. "I'm not going back through that 'rain eye' for all the alfalfa in Trottingham."

Carmine and Beth's raucous laughter rang out, but quickly changed to alarm. "Chip! We've got company! Down there, in the clouds!" squawked Carmine.

Chip and Bella ran to opposite sides of the chariot, peering over the edge.

"I don't see anything," Bella stated.

"Ruff not see either!" The diamond dog was perched on the roof of the aft-section of the chariot, claws holding firmly to the fabric of the awning.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," said Chip. "Tell me, what did you see?"

"I... don't know, but they weren't pegasi. I think they were dragons. I didn't see them for long, but they were all spikes and leathery wings."

"Shells and shards," swore Chip. "Ideas?"

"Can we outrun them?" pondered Bella.

"I could," Hairpin answered, "maybe Penny too, but with you lot hitched up? Outflying a dragon is no mean feat."

"Ruff, you keep a lookout this side. If we can't outfly them," Chip said as he turned to the center of the chariot, and the map, "then maybe we can out-think them."

Ruff jumped down, nodding at the colt, before taking stanchion where Chip had previously stood.

"What're you planning, Chip?" Carmine asked, as she swooped around the chariot, eyes darting every which way as she scanned for the hostiles.

"I don't know how they got here, but maybe we can use this map and the rules of this place against them. Sharptooth said the Way was unstable, if you stray from the path it'll throw you off, right? Then that's all we've got to do: throw them off the path."

"That's a great idea, Chip, but how are we gonna do that?"

Chip frowned, furrowing his brow. Then he brightened. He turned to the back of the chariot and snagged the luggage-webbing in his teeth. Yanking on it, the thick strands ripped free of the siding and the luggage scattered across the cushions. The excited colt grinned wickedly as he spat it out. "Tie something heavy to the corners, it'll foul a dragon's wings... as long as they're small enough. Please tell me they were small?"

Beth nodded, "They are. That's the good news."

"Bad news is, they're here!" Ruff pointed, where two dark-hued shapes flickered momentarily just beneath the cloud cover.

"Plucked pinions!" swore Carmine. "Now what?"

"Bella, I need you to do two things for me, okay?" said Chip, eyeing Ruff, and the staff.

"What?" Bella looked back, glancing between Chip, Ruff and the two griffons.

Carmine's wings beat frantically as she grabbed onto the chariot. "What're you planning, Chip? It's not going to be something dumb, is it?"

"Firstly, I need you, Bella, to tie those tins of jerky and beans we've got left to the corners of this net. And secondly... how do you all feel about piñata dog?"

Dark shapes drifted through the cloying mists, hidden within the clouds, their quarry above them. Slitted pupils narrowed as powerful wings beat in unison. What glimpses there had been showed the group carrying on regardless. Soon, they would strike. Intervention would be quick, neat, and relatively painless. It was a maneuver they had practiced before, it wasn't something that one had down to an art, but—

"What the!?"

The cry of his comrade was cut off short as heavy black netting tangled itself neatly around his head and wings, and cans—of all things—slammed against his helm. Fluttering weakly, more surprised than hurt, his comrade fell, dropping like a stone.

The second's fate wasn't much prettier. With a screaming roar, more than a hundred pounds of enraged pony-shaped dragon dropped out of the sky, slamming bodily into him and bucking downwards with every ounce of force Chip could manage. Iron-shod hooves would have broken several ribs and probably at least one of his wings had Chip hit him without armour. That wasn't the worst of it, however. The worst was the screaming brown ball of fury, brandishing a staff that was slammed sideways into his head. The blow made him see stars, and sent him spinning and tumbling down into the depths below.

Chip couldn't help but laugh, even through the pain. Beth powered upwards, Ruff in her fore-claws. Chip, for his part, dangled helplessly once more by the tail.

"Oof, I don't know what you think is so funny, Chip. You're about two seconds away from joining whatever-it-was," griped Carmine, claws fastened around the end of Chip's tail.

"Are you calling me fat?"

"I'm not saying that, but you'd hardly be heftier if you were a heffer, chubby-buns."

"Bella!" cried Chip, through the giggles, kicking his legs about. "Piñata pony! piñata pony!"

A soft lavender glow enveloped his body as the unicorn in the chariot above used her light-as-a-feather spell on the dangling colt, and Carmine suddenly found herself speeding upwards as Chip's weight dissipated. She momentarily lost her grip on her charge, and Chip found himself flipped upwards, spinning randomly. He shrieked with glee as the world rotated, and couldn't help but plant a kiss on the beak of the nearest of his saviours as he tumbled past skywards. His motion arrested by the stolen smooch, Chip bobbed like a balloon, all four legs and tail very much akimbo.

Carmine, irritated, swatted at him, sending him spinning through the air once again.

"Oh come on! Get me back to the chariot! Before it wears off!"

Carmine couldn't help but crack a smile, her eyes bright. "Spoilsport."

"Besides," called Chip as he sailed past upside down. "They might come back. I've got another idea."

"Oh? Do tell. I might even let you back on the wagon."

"There's another path," Chip stated, balanced by his armoured helm on one of Carmine's claw-tips. "It's another Way, an easy one to get to this time. Whoever those two were, they probably don't know about it, and won't be able to find it in a hurry even if they did."

"And where does it lead, my little piñata?"

"Right where we want to go," replied Chip, grinning mischievously.

♠♣♥♦

Making Tracks

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds

The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═════════════════════════════════════

Chapter 11
Making Tracks
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

"Now, Bella?" asked Hairpin. The pegasus was weary, but tried not to let it show.

Bella sat on her haunches in the wagon, eyes closed and muzzle skywards as if she were sniffing the wind. "Yes, I can't feel it any more. We left the Way a while ago. Go down, but let's take it slow."

"Yes, ma'am," snarked Penny, rolling her eyes as they descended out of the blue expanse, down into the clouds beneath them.

The clouds were grey and angry, and travel through them was bumpy and uncomfortable. As the wagon descended, the endless banks of fog finally parted to reveal a disturbingly dark forest.

Carmine and Beth circled the wagon cautiously as the ground came into view, afraid to lose sight of their friends.

Chip waved them off, pointing downwards. "It's fine, we're out, we're safe. You can take a closer look if you want. Just don't get too close, this place isn't supposed to be too friendly," shouted Chip. The colt had been grinning like an idiot for the past half hour, ever since he'd verified that their short-cut to a destination he'd refused to elaborate on had been successful.

In a word, he'd been insufferable.

"Well, where are we?" Bright Pinion flapped her wings carefully, as if afraid to wake whatever monsters lay below under the canopy. It might very well have been a wise move.

"A long way North of of Tacksworn, even further North of... roughly where we should have been if the map wasn't all wibbly wobbly. That, if we've taken the correct Path, is the Everfree Forest. We're headed to Ponyville."

♠♣♥♦

Applejack placed the final huge bucket beneath the tree before resting on her haunches for a moment. It had been hard work today, just like every day during harvest-time. She swiped her stetson across her brow before placing it carefully back on her head with a deft flick of her hooves. Then she stood up. And scowled.

There was a silvery-grey feather in one of her buckets. A large silvery-grey feather, the sort of feather which only came from a pegasus.

"Corsarnit, I know yer up there. Who is it? T'ain't Rainbow, she ain't that colour. Least not where it shows." Applejack glared upwards into the thick, apple-laden branches.

"Caw!" cawed something from up in the hidden reaches.

"Don't you 'caw' me none. Git down here!"

"Caw! Caw, caw!" tried the voice again.

Applejack rolled her eyes. "Alright, who is it? Come on, now, I don't mean ya no harm. Ya ain't the first that's taken a likin' to Apple family apples."

"Ruff not eat... Ruff mean, uh, caw!"

"A diamond dog?" Applejack peered upwards, shifting her head to and fro to catch a glimpse of the intruders.

"Shh! Maybe she'll go away!" hissed a female voice.

"And a griffon. Next you'll be saying there's a dragon in mah tree!" A moment later, Applejack's mouth dropped open at the sudden, complete silence that followed. "Well Ah'll be."

"Miss Apple?" came a hesitant male voice. "Can you get us Twilight Sparkle? Please? We won't eat any—"

There was a soft thump as an apple core hit the ground.

"Er, many—"

There was a discrete burp, and a very quiet little, "Sorry!"

"You'd better hurry. It's been a long journey. I'll pay for them..."

Applejack sighed. "Ah'll jes go get Twilight. Can ya at least stick to the one tree?"

There was a soft thump as the tree adjacent also dropped an applecore. Applejack rolled her eyes as she stomped off. "Ah swear, one o' these days..."

♠♣♥♦

Twilight trotted through Ponyville, a manic smile plastered on her muzzle as her horn glowed softly. The spell she was casting was subtle and complex, made all the more so as she was forced to keep it up. Moving carefully, she avoided big crowds, being uncommonly cautious with her footing. She nodded politely, smiling through grit teeth, and waited for others to pass before continuing her journey. It made for a very slow, careful trip home. As Books and Branches neared, Twilight's head drooped lower and lower and a sheen of sweat shone on her brow. At the door, she paused, swaying slightly from the continued effort.

Hoofing the door to her library open, she stood outside for a moment. Smiling brightly but wearily to all passers by, she stood as if enjoying the early afternoon sun for a few moments, before nodding imperceptibly and trotting into her library home.

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed, slumping to the floor on her haunches. Her horn lost the glow that had surrounded it, and a disparate group of creatures faded into view like so much billowing fog parting to reveal the rising sun.

"That," said Penny excitedly, "was so awesome! I was totally invisible!"

"You weren't invisible so much as not very noticeable," lectured Twilight, raising one hoof. "True invisibility is harder than one thinks, as light must be bent around—"

"But nobody could see us?" interrupted Penny.

"Well... no, but—"

"Invisible! In-vis-ee-bell!" Penny bounced off excitedly to examine the treehouse-library, humming noisily. Twilight, for her part, scowled darkly.

"Thank you, miss Twilight," Chip said gratefully, "we... we've really got to be keeping a low profile as—"

"Chip!" yelled an excited young voice. "Is that really you?"

"Spike?" called out Chip, looking up to see a smallish, purple dragon peering over the balcony.

"Chip! Ruff! It is you!" Spike ran down the steps from the upper levels two at a time. He gave Chip a punch in the withers, and hugged Ruff tightly. "You guys are the best! Wait, you don't need another sofa, do you? O-or, uhh, anything that might, er..." The little dragon twiddled his paws worriedly, darting eyes at Twilight.

"Hey, Spike," chuckled Chip. "No, we won't need anything like that."

"Good. I've only just got done being grounded from the last time. Both times."

Chip blushed. "I'm, um," Chip turned to Twilight, eyes downcast. "I'm really sorry, Miss Sparkle. It was urgent, and I didn't know what else to do."

"This time or last time?" the mare snarked, rolling her eyes.

"Kinda both." Chip twirled a hoof into a rug, speaking hesitantly.

"Well you can start by telling me what they hay you're doing here in Ponyville. What's wrong, is it the dragons again? Oh, it can't be the dragons, you're a dragon so that would hardly... but wait, are you still a dragon? Did you stop being a dragon? Is that it..." Twilight's eyes slowly lost focus, though her muzzle began moving at top speed as she invented reason after reason for Chip's and his friends' visit.

Chip blinked, quite unable to keep up. "Um... yes, I mean no, and, uh, yes... and you don't? I..." Chip's ears flattened against his head as his eyes darted to and fro between Twilight and Spike.

The little dragon put his paws up against his face. "She gets like this sometimes. Twi, snap out of it, will ya!" The little dragon snapped his claws, until the unicorn stopped her monologue and blinked, looking down at her number-one assistant as she trailed off.

"...I don't think I have any spells to make a dragon back into a dragon... I didn't know you could be turned into a dragon in the first place..! Er, sorry... I guess I got carried away. Hehe." Twilight blushed. "Maybe I should just ask you why you're here, what kind of crazy idea would that be, eh?" Twilight grinned brightly, but her grin faded as Chip's expression remained serious.

"Well, Miss Twilight, it's something we've got to discuss with you... and with Spike."

"With Spike too?" asked Twilight, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah... if we may ask, how secure is Spike's hoard?"

"Well, Twi's the one who keeps it safe," piped up Spike, thumbing a claw at her horn, "but if somepony can keep anypony out of it, she can. Why?"

"Twilight, Spike, this is why we needed you to hide us, to keep our presence here a secret. Please, please, please don't tell anyone! Do you promise to keep everything we show you secret? You must!"

"I pinkie swear it!" said Twilight, solemnly. "Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my—OW!"

Chip flicked an ear in surprise as the lavender unicorn went through a series of motions which ended with what looked like a painful eye-injury. He looked down at Spike, one eyebrow raised.

"Before you can ask, yes, she means it."

"Is it as good as a dragon's oath?"

Spike looked at Twilight appraisingly, as she rubbed her eye. For a moment, Spike's expression grew more serious than the mare could ever remember it being. Then he nodded, solemnly. "Yeah, I think so."

"Ruff? Please show them it."

Ruff stepped forwards. "Ruff has... this staff. We need to keep staff safe, can you?"

Spike took hold of it reverently, turning it around and around in his paws. "What is it?"

"We don't know – not really, not yet," Chip replied. "It's why we're here. It's old, but we don't know how old."

"I've never seen anything like this before," stated Twilight, her magic taking a hold of the ancient artifact and lifting it into the air. Spike dangled by one paw for a few seconds before falling onto his backside. He scowled, but Twilight didn't notice.

"Is from diamond dog realm. Is king's staff. Is now... my staff." Ruff took hold of it, yanking it out of the pony's magical grip.

Spike looked up at Ruff sharply. "Where did you say you got it?"

"From someone Ruff miss very much. From... friend."

"Wait, the diamond dog home realm? That's crazy! You can't just go visit another world... can you?"

Chip grinned.

"You can't have..." exclaimed the unicorn mare.

Chip grinned wider.

"Oh, great," said Spike, looking up at all the books in the library. "I can see there'll be another few weeks of picking up after Twilight as she goes on a study bender..."

"Well before that, can either of you tell us what the staff says?"

"I'm not familiar with Trollish, but—"

"Relax, Twi," said Spike, puffing his chest out, "I got this. Let me get my notes..."

Chip watched as Spike waddled off to a room upstairs. He returned a few minutes later with a bunch of scrolls held tightly in the coils of his tail, and a bunch of Daring Do Adventures! comics held in his arms. He set them all down neatly in a pile on the floor, then toddled off to the kitchen.

"Daring Do?" asked Bethany, with a snigger, as Ruff carefully started unrolling the scrolls.

"Research!" stated Ruff, pouting.

"And the hay fries?" asked Bella as Spike returned a few moments later with a good deal of snacks.

"Brain food!" replied Spike, glancing at Ruff and sharing an emphatic nod.

"And both are good for goofing off with," the griffon dead-panned.

"Well... yes. But mostly research!" Ruff said, as he joined Spike on the floor. The two rapidly started chattering about the runes both on the staff, and Spike's notes from the book.

"They're going to be at that for hours, aren't they?" asked Twilight, as she watched.

"Jealous?" teased Chip.

"No," said Twilight, pouting. "Well, maybe a little. I think it's best to leave them at it. Let's go relax. You can tell me why you're here, and fill me in on what you needed to buy that sofa for from the last time you turned up as an unexpected guest."

Chip's ears splayed out flat as he blushed hotly. "I really am sorry about that."

Twilight looked down at Chip. "Don't worry, I had a long talk with Celestia on the way home. She cleared quite a few things up for me, but the rest... are you really a dragon? I mean... like, really?"

Chip was taken aback. "I-I am. Yes."

"Really? I mean, you're not exactly..." The mare waved a hoof about, indicating a general lack of horns, wings and scales.

"I get that a lot," Chip replied with a laugh.

"You don't say," said Twilight with an answering chuckle, rolling her eyes. "Go on then, do something... draconic." She tapped a hoof on his chest.

"Well, okay... you'd better stand back!" Chip closed his eyes, and inhaled.

Three seconds later, Twilight was stomping on the remains of her morning's checklist which she'd placed carefully upon a nearby table. The still-smouldering ashes now formed an integral part of the item of furniture in question, which now resembled a substance far more useful for gritting paths with in winter.

"I'm, er, sorry about that. I kind of got a bit excited. It was only supposed to be a small flame..."

"Quite alright!" barked Twilight, grinning maniacally. "That's quite alright! I asked a dragon to breathe fire in my home; the dragon breathed fire in my home. My table burned down. I'm not quite sure what I was expecting... excuse me, I'm going to go lie down now."

Chip watched, bemused, as Twilight trotted up the stairs and over to a sofa-bed on the second floor landing. Standing next to it, the pony wobbled once and fell over like a felled tree. Onto the floor.

"Is, uh, she going to be alright?" Chip whispered, turning to Spike.

"Probably," Spike replied, looking up from translating a particularly tricky passage. "She does get like this occasionally. Usually when it's something for Celestia. Or a test. She hates tests."

"Why, does she always get them wrong?"

"Uh-uh, she usually gets them right. And then fixes the tests... after she's convinced herself that the examiners are out to send her back to magic kindergarten."

"And how often does that happen?"

"Only every time she takes a test. The freaking out, I mean, not the kindergarten." Spike shook his head.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to cause her to freak out."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Spike replied. "Last month, she stayed up three days straight investigating whether the little light in the fridge really does go off when you close the door."

"And?"

"I woke up and found her hanging outside from a branch pretending to be a fruit bat in case the light came on at night when it thought nopony was around. One day, I'll write all these little adventures down; I'm just not sure anypony would believe me." Spike shrugged. "Talking of writing things down, I got your post. Warn a guy next time, though, okay?"

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't really think..."

"It's not that," replied Spike with a rueful grin, "it's that you missed."

"I missed? Oh, oh no! What's the damage?"

"An afternoon, alone, sitting in a tub of ice and a good deal of pride. You owe me one." As if in answer, the small dragon belched and a scroll materialized in mid-air before falling into his outstretched claws. The dragon tucked it away somewhere on his person and glared.

"I misse-oh... ooohhhh. Oh. Ow. Eew..."

"Couldn't walk straight for week and I really don't want to talk about it."

"I'll, uh, go... tidy the library," Chip offered.

"No! No, no," Spike said, jumping to his hind claws, "just, uh, just relax... and don't touch anything!"

"She gets like that about her books, too?"

"Chip, you have no idea."

♠♣♥♦

He was standing on a tall cliff, the wind whistling around his shoulders. His great wings unfurled, black as the sky, lit by lightning. With a roar, he leaped over the edge, claws outstretched as he plummeted downwards towards the army below. The trolls scattered like blossom in a storm, the earthy browns, greys and blacks of their coats mixing with the bright red of their lifeblood as it flowed freely between his talons. He inhaled, drawing his great, blunt head back, before exhaling in a mighty blast of balefire that incinerated his prey. His jaws snapped, crunching shut around the puny creatures as he ended their lives and filled his belly. None dared stand against him, for he was...

"Chip! Hey, Chip! Wake up!"

Chip blinked, startled awake. He was looking down upon... no, no, he was looking up. Up into the face of Carmine.

"You okay, Chip? It looked like you were having a bad dream."

"No, I'm... I'm okay. It wasn't a bad dream at all, it was..." Chip smacked his lips, his mouth still tasted of ash and blood. "I'm hungry. Are you hungry?" Chip wriggled to get upright. He'd fallen asleep on his back, all four legs in the air, on a sofa. It appeared he'd been drooling whilst dreaming about breathing fire... at least he hoped that's what it was, because it was going to be awkward if his drool kept making holes in the furniture.

"I'm starving," confided Carmine.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry, I'll... see about food. Hairpin!" Chip called.

"Yes, Master?" the silvern pegasus replied, trotting into the den.

"Can you see if you can make us something to eat?" Chip asked, eyes pleading.

"Chip!" Carmine slapped the colt with a wing. "Just because you own her doesn't mean she's your maid."

"Actually it does," said Hairpin, brightly. “But the real reason I'll make the food is I've seen him trying to cook. Disaster doesn't even begin to explain things."

Carmine scowled, and Chip shrugged apologetically. "I can make tea... if you want? After all, I did post the tea set here."

"Fine then, but you wash up."

"Sure thing, Car."

Hairpin sniggered as she trotted out towards the kitchen. "That's how it starts, you know."

"What? What do you mean?" asked Chip as he followed. Carmine just rolled her eyes.

♠♣♥♦

Twilight sat in a comfortable chair, with an ice-pack on her head, nestled between her horn and her ears. "So, what is this staff?" she asked, pressing a hoof to her temple.

"It's what Ruff says it is. It's a message from the Alpha of Alphas and his mate, the Alpha's Consort, to his lost pack brother."

"That's it?" asked Twilight, incredulously. "Then what's all the fuss about?"

"There is legend," piped up Ruff, "of High King, and his palace. In palace is crown jewels, and High King's staff is key, and map."

"So?"

"Whoever bears High King's jewels and wields High King's staff, is High King," Ruff stated emphatically. "Of all diamond dogs."

"Luna's unshorn fetlocks!" swore Twilight. "No wonder you want to hide it!"

"I'm really sorry we bothered you, Twilight. Now you see why we wanted to keep our presence here a secret, and—"

"And why you had me cast that invisibility spell," the unicorn said, nodding.

"Can you hide the staff?"

"Of course."

"Don't tell anybody about it, not even Celestia! if somebody does come after it, send it to Ruff, or Celestia if you have to. Or me. Equestria could depend on it."

"I'll not do the Pinkie Swear thing again," said Twilight as she grinned apologetically, "but believe me, I mean it."

"I'll keep this in my hoard," the little dragon said, reverently taking hold of it.

Twilight watched as Spike ran up the stairs with the staff in his claws, and then called after him. "You've got to jiggle the handle on that cupboard, the lock kinda sticks!"

"Augh! Twiiii-liiiiggght!" moaned Spike, his voice echoing. Chip covered his muzzle with a hoof.

When Spike came back down, Chip trotted up before him. The colt lowered his head in a bow. "From one dragon to another—I thank you for accepting this task."

"It's not problem, Chip," replied Spike, awkwardly.

"It means a lot to me, and my clan. Can you do another favour for me too?"

"Name it."

"Can you post my stuff down to Sharptooth? The rest needs to come with us."

"I think so..."

"I'd do it, but I don't want to miss," grinned Chip, blushing.

Spike shuddered. "I don't think Sharpie would be too pleased!"

A few minutes later, and the friends watched as one of the two piles of things burned to green ash, and the pieces floated out the window.

"They'll appear in your home in Tacksworn," said Twilight. "Spike's gotten better at posting things."

"I just wish Celestia would," the dragon grumbled, "you'd think with a thousand years of practice, I wouldn't need to hock it up."

Chip laughed, holding a hoof to his muzzle as the purple dragon glared at him. "Thanks though, Spike. We'll get out of your hair now... somehow. Umm, can I ask you another favour, Twilight? Two favours, really."

"What's the first?" Twilight asked.

"We need a box, big enough to hold that staff in. With luck, you'll get it back in no time."

Twilight thought for a moment, before nodding slowly. "I think so. I can give you the box for my old telescope. It broke, so it's just lying around downstairs in the basement, collecting dust. It should be big enough, though I guess it doesn't matter if it isn't, right?" Twilight grinned, and Chip returned the smile.

"What's the second?"

Chip took a deep breath. "Can you do that invisibility thing again?"

"I can, but only when you're standing close to me. I don't want to hear it didn't wear off and you starved to death unnoticed or anything!"

Carmine paled. "Does that happen often?"

"Well, I've not exactly cast that spell very often... so far, it's been a one-hundred percent success rate!" Twilight beamed, nervously.

"How many times?!" demanded Carmine.

"Once?" Twilight grinned still, hopefully, but her expression was tinged with shame.

Carmine face-clawed. "Okay, so you can't cast it on us and have us just slip off... ideas?"

"This may sound like a crazy question, but where do you want to get to?" asked Twilight.

"Stalliongrad," Chip replied with finality.

"What?!" squawked Beth, "but... my folks! We've been gone quite a few days already..."

"Sorry, we've got to be seen to keep the scent off the staff's location, and I've got to give the rest of this stuff to Sunshine. Besides, I'm pretty sure Hairpin has some business back home?"

Hairpin nuzzled Chip softly, "I do, Master. Thank you."

Chip blushed, doing his best to ignore Carmine as she fluffed up her feathers to almost twice their usual size at the gesture. "And I want to be sure you're getting along fine; Pig Iron should know a reliable pony to go to."

"Getting along?" Twilight raised an eyebrow.

"I'm, uh..." Hairpin blushed, and gestured to her sides with a wing.

"Oh my gosh! Let me see!" Before anypony could stop her, Twilight lowered her horn and lit it up with a basic spell. "Oh! He's doing so fine!"

"He?" choked Hairpin, mouth wide and eyes round.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Oh... ponyfeathers, you didn't want to know?"

Hairpin snorted, then chuckled, then almost fell over laughing. When she could finally speak, she found it hard to keep the mirth out of her voice. "Oh, Twilight, I didn't know you could do that!"

"Do you want to know... what he is too?"

Hairpin put a hoof on the penitent mare's lips. "Just keep that one to yourself. That does give me an idea, however. I think I know how we're getting out of here!"

"Don't tell me," replied Chip as he put two and two together, "by train?"

"By train." Hairpin grinned, nodding affirmatively.

♠♣♥♦

Twilight smiled brightly as she spoke softly with a grey mail pegasus. Twilight floated over a small package, her teeth clenched tightly with effort.

"You alright there, Miss Sparkle?"

"Quite alright," the unicorn said stiffly.

"Okay, you just look a little peaky."

"I'll be fine, don't worry. Just a touch of horn fever, got caught in the rain last week."

"I don't remember—"

"It was a very short, very intense rainfall. Caught me by surprise." Twilight grinned brighter still as a whistle went off. The pegasus looked at her watch with surprise.

"That's funny, they must be leaving a bit early... well alright then, I've got to trot, other packages to load!"

Twilight slumped, breathing heavily. She shook her head slowly as, a few minutes later, the train started moving. "Two spells at once, Twilight, not many unicorns could pull that off."

The long collection of carriages slowly picked up speed, the clickety-clack of wheels as they crossed the gaps between the bars became a rhythmic mantra that lulled the few passengers into a relaxed stupor for the long trip Northwards. In a seemingly deserted train car, the air shimmered as if in a heatwave, before parting. In the blink of an eye, the deserted car was suddenly full of passengers.

"Do you think anyone saw us?" asked Chip.

"Are you kidding? I couldn't see us!" Penny bounced on her hooves around the enclosed space excitedly. "This is so much fun! Bella, you have got to learn that trick!"

"Is our stuff okay?"

"I think so, Master," Hairpin said, as she pawed through their belongings. "I hope my buddies on the train have got better food than this. Mistress Carmine and Miss Beth and young master Ruff aren't going to be happy with pony rations for long. It was kind of Miss Twilight, though."

"You have buddies on the train?" asked Bella.

"Well duh, I used to be a delivery mare for Pig Iron! I travelled all over Equestria for him. This is the Canterlot Line." replied Hairpin, giggling and rolling her eyes. She took a deep breath and shouted, "Atlas! Stirling! I know you two layabouts are here somewhere!"

Chip blinked, ears ringing. Hairpin's yelling could rival a dragon's for sheer volume. For a moment, nothing happened, then there was an excited barking and a plethora of loud complaints as what appeared to be a dog came barrelling through the adjoining cars. "Hey, it can't be! I think I know that bark!"

With a sudden burst of motion and sound, the interlocking door exploded inward and a collection of distinctly gingerbread-coloured curls and paws with a tail attached swept into the suddenly cramped enclosure.

"I knew it! Biscuit! You okay, girl? How's your owner?"

"Runt's fine, thanks for asking." A little red dragon glared at them, rubbing his backside as he picked himself up from the floor. "Last we met, you left me high and dry in Ponyville."

"Horsefeathers! Sorry about that, uh... I kinda hadda thing."

"I heard. Did you really eat half an army of diamond dogs, and skin the rest?"

"Well... I didn't actually eat any. I kinda spat the bits out."

Runt chuckled, rubbing his claws over his gleaming white horns and spines. "I bet you could do with a good bowl of chow, huh? Come on, all of ya; we've got plenty. Spanners'll be right pleased to hear you made it okay, too."

A short while later, the whole gang had collected in the caboose, which was all but overflowing with a couple of dragons, a pair of griffons, one dog and a whole herd of ponies. Most of the ponies were pegasi, but the relief crew of earth ponies were also strutting around and doing their best to entertain Hairpin, who was clearly enjoying the attention.

"Hey boys! Nice to see you all again!" Hairpin flicked her tail in a manner entirely too saucy for polite company.

Chip stared for a moment before putting two and two together to get five. "Again? You mean one of these four is the father?" There was a sudden silence, in which one could have heard a pin drop. The fact that Spanners—distinguished even amidst a grubby group for his grit and grime—dropped another 'thaumaturgical whatchamacallit' didn't help. In the blink of an eye, the caboose was sans four stallions.

Hairpin glared, her wing-feathers ruffling. She stormed up to Chip and snorted in his face. "That was totally uncalled for!"

Chip shrank back, astonished. "I'm sorry! I... I... but you..." He choked on his bowl of barium feldspar, sending sizzling drops of molten metal flying. His eyes shone wetly. "I didn't mean... I'm sorry!"

Hairpin slumped back, sighing for a moment before chuckling, her gaze softening. "It's okay, Master. You couldn't know. You can't. I mean... you're a kid, after all." Chip pouted, but Hairpin just laughed. She kissed him on the poll of his head. "A girl like me has certain needs, you know? Impending fatherhood tends to scare off the solution to some of them, so I really wasn't going to mention it."

"But, don't you care that one of them..?"

Hairpin shook her head. "Naa. You're my owner, I don't need some useless lump of a stallion around the house. That's what I've got you for. It's your job to help bring up Junior, you know. With your permission, Master, I'll go see where they've got to. Don't wait up!"

Chip nodded dumbly, mouth hanging open, as Hairpin exited the caboose through the skylight.

Bella chuckled. "Nice job, Dad."

"That's it," squeaked Chip, slumping, "I'm going to bed. I've had enough."

"Y'all can bunk in the caboose, if'n you'se can make up the camp beds. We got plenty of blankets, gets cold up North," offered Spanners.

"That's going to be tough on you, Chip, ain't it?" snarked Carmine. "You've got to make your own bed this time since your maid is out."

Chip pouted. "She's not my maid! And I don't need her to make my bed!"

Carmine just raised an eye-ridge.

"I don't! Much... but..."

"Hmm?"

"Well... I might need your help with the covers..." Chip grinned hopefully.

Carmine rolled her eyes. "Come on then, we'd better see what we've got. It's been a long day. I'll help."

"That's how it starts, you know!" chirped Penny, and she fled out the door as Carmine swiped with her claws.

♠♣♥♦

"If I remember correctly, if the pressure's too high, we vent it, reheating the water for the jacuzzi? And if it's too low we throttle back on the valves and feed those two lumps, Blaze and Furnace?"

"That's right, kiddo. Sure ye don' wanna be in t' Royal 'questrian Mail Service?"

Chip chuckled. "Let me pull the whistle some more and I might say yes! Besides, it looks like you've got another wannabe trainee already." Chip motioned out the window, where Hairpin was flying with Bright Pinion, the two weaving in and out of the steam-train's cloud-trails.

"Aye, she's got spunk, that one. A few years left of growin', but your Hairpin'll show her the right ways to go 'bout things."

"Her dad's going to kill me if he finds out it was my fault."

Spanners chuckled. "Mail mare's a right honourable job, whelp, won't hear a word said a'gin it."

Chip grinned wider. "I wouldn't dream of it." He stuck his head out the window of the train and laughed for joy as the whistle shrilled, echoing across the valley. They'd left Canterlot far behind and were now heading East towards Stalliongrad. Chip couldn't help but think back to the last fateful time he'd been on this train—or at least it's predecessor. A glance downwards made him shudder momentarily as he remembered the explosion and the chaos caused by whoever had demolished the Canterlot Viaduct. The viaduct hadn't just been repaired, it had all but been replaced. The bright and gleaming tracks scintillated in the sun, a mocking perfection that firmly relegated the attempts to end his life to the past.

It was this long glance that revealed they were being followed.

"Just once," Chip sighed. "I'd like to have a nice, quiet train-ride, without being led to my doom or having somebody or something trying to end my life."

"What's that lad?" Spanners asked, looking up from his chores.

"We've got company, I saw something dart under the arches."

Spanners growled softly, an odd sound for a pony. Chip wondered if, having fiddled around with dragons long enough, the old pegasus had picked up some of their mannerisms himself. "Yer not gonna crash t'train again, lad?"

Chip pouted. "That wasn't my fault! But no. I don't know what or who they are, but I know what they want, and it's in the luggage car."

"I'll fetch the boys, lad, y'all will come to no harm."

"You shouldn't be worried about me," Chip said, snarling as he turned around, flicking his tail angrily, the ever-present armour clashing together loudly. "It's them who need to watch out."

The luggage car was dark and cramped. It had fit seven bodies before, but as the angry form of Chip dropped through the skylight, it seemed too small to hold one.

"Show yourselves! I know you're here!" Chip shouted, turning around and around. There was a clattering on the roof as the first of Chip's friends arrived. Lithely, Ruff dropped to the floor, landing squarely on his hind paws. He brandished his claws and snarled.

"Son of Diamond, Prince of Sapphire," hissed a sibilant voice from the shadows. "Give us the mistress' staff and you shall go free."

"Face me! Dragon to dragon!" Chip snarled, spinning to face the voice.

The mocking laughter which followed was hollow and bold. "You know not what you dabble with, whelp."

Chip spun again, as a second voice joined the first. He bared his teeth, the sun shining through the hole in the roof momentarily causing his armour to glow as if on fire. "I am more than enough for you, cowards! Face me!"

"Brave words, young one," the first voice said

"Braver in action, he is!" Ruff growled, the fur on his back and shoulders standing on end. "Ruff brave too. You no take staff!"

"We're taking it to where you can never touch it! Never!" yelled Penny as she sailed in through the same skylight as Chip had taken. She landed neatly between her two friends, flaring her wings and turning, seeking their adversaries.

"Be not so sure of yourselves, young ones. There are forces at work greater than you know," echoed the first voice, tone low and threatening.

Hairpin and a stallion pegasus threw the large cargo doors open, for a moment blinding everybody in the carriage. Chip blinked the sunspots out of his eyes, and caught a fleeting glance of dark armour and spikes, the gleaming of yellow, slitted pupils and the rustling of bat-like wings as whoever-it-was retreated into the suddenly harsh shadows. In a rush of magic which set his teeth on edge, the intruders first became one with the blackness and then vanished, the last gleam of their eyes the only sign they were ever there.

Chip hissed in anger. "Will they never let up?"

Carmine dropped down from the ceiling too, whilst Beth fluttered in the open door, furling her wings. "Look at it this way," Carmine said, "they fell for it."

Chip huffed and puffed, adrenaline coursing through his body, flames licking around his muzzle. "I really hoped it would be over, but I can see I was wrong. When I find them..."

"When we find them," Bella said, the unicorn suddenly dropping in through the same skylight, falling in slow motion, "we'll make them pay. All of them."

Chip growled, snorting and pawing the ground angrily. "I think they're gone for now. I doubt we'll be seeing them before Stalliongrad. Let's see if the guys can keep an eye out, though."

"And we'll send word ahead," suggested Hairpin. "Let Pig Iron know we're coming, and to expect trouble."

♠♣♥♦

A Change of Perspective

♠♣♥♦ King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
════════════════════

Chapter 12
A Change of Perspective
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

The train pulled up into the station, releasing huge billowing clouds of steam. The teamsters were huffing and puffing louder than the boiler as they finally came to a halt. As much steam rose from their bodies and nostrils as the stack on the engine. It was the final stop for the late-night run, so the platform was all but deserted.

A small army of railway maintenance ponies and dragons emerged from their hidey-holes to help unhitch the four huge earth ponies who had pulled the train for the last few long hauls. Amongst this concentrated swarm, emerged order from chaos as the train was steadily de-coupled and unloaded.

In the flickering light of oil-lamps set high on the walls of the station building, four weary figures – two pegasus ponies and two griffons – pulled the large double doors to one of the mail cars open and a battered pegasus-chariot was wheeled out of it, backwards, by what appeared to be two more ponies. It was loaded with luggage, but had room for passengers. It currently only had one living occupant; a smallish tawny-coloured diamond dog that was clutching a long, relatively thin and ornate wooden box. He yawned, rubbing his eyes.

"Ruff there yet?" he asked as he was jostled awake.

"Almost," replied Bella, yawning similarly, as she eased herself into the wagon's straps.

"Silver and Pig Iron should be around here somewhere," whispered Chip softly, covering up his muzzle as he too yawned. "They said they'd meet us at the platform." He cast his gaze about expectantly as he eased his body into the other slot. Carmine and Beth tied the pony and the pony-shaped dragon up quickly and efficiently, then fluttered their way onto the rear awning..

"And so we have, young master Chip," rang out a new yet familiar voice. The steam from the train parted, and a large, gaunt black unicorn walked slowly into view. The flickering oil lamps highlighted the silvery-white mane of Silver Chalice, his glossy black coat gleaming in the twilight.

Chip winced as he turned to face the stallion who was both his closest and most distant relative. The last time they'd spoke, Chip had enslaved the unicorn and his daughter – for the best of intentions, but it had not been a friendly parting of the ways. "I-I'm sorry about what I did. I didn't see any other way—"

"Smoke from old fire, young dragon," added another voice. The familiar shape of a white dragon with pink eyes padded up next to the unicorn. Pig Iron would be an albino, were he a pony, though Chip was quite sure it was just his natural colours. "Besides, Silver's had quite the change of heart. Show the lad."

Chip raised an eyebrow, then turned to look as Silver Chalice turned sideways-on, and stared. Silver Chalice, for all intents and purposes his uncle-in-law, presented his cutie mark for appraisal. It was the same ornate goblet as before, but it was not unchanged. The gems upon it, which had briefly been the white diamonds of the Diamond Expanse dragon clan whilst under Chip's protection, were now the solid silvery bars of House Pig Iron.

Chip leaped forwards, putting a hoof out as if to pick up the goblet. "What did you do?" Chip hissed, "B-but why? I set you free!"

Silver Chalice scowled slightly. "You ever were talented at bringing trouble and change, young Chiphoof."

"You were right to protect them, young scion," interrupted Pig Iron, lashing his tail. "Your clan is large, if scattered. Mine is small, but capable. In my element, none dare cross me. When you set them free, predictably their life was threatened. On my honour, it was not of my doing. I did what I could – I offered them both the protection of my clan."

Chip's heart sank. "You enslaved them both?"

Pig Iron chuckled and turned, putting a claw on Chip's withers. "No, no. That's where things get interesting. Young Mistress Sunshine remains a free filly, and likely will continue to be so. She is under the patronage of my clan, and has been extended the protection thereof. Chalice here, though... Chalice?" The dragon turned to the black unicorn. "Submit. Bow down."

Chip watched, heart thudding in his chest, as Silver Chalice utterly failed to move. After several tense long seconds, Chip spoke up. "What?! How?"

"We have—" Silver Chalice paused, thoughtfully, "—an agreement. Freedom for my daughter, and dominion over my estate, and in return—"

"I get any offspring from his new union." Pig Iron finished.

"I am a marked stallion Chip, thanks to you, as is my daughter." The stallion's eyes were cold, glittering in the starlight. "You left us little choice."

"House Irontail and House Chalice have joined in close partnership with House Pig Iron. I extend my protection – and that of all my compatriots – to the Irontail estate. For free, in perpetuity. In return, Silver Chalice here works for me. I own him, but under favourable terms."

"In all but name, I am as free now as I was before," added Silver Chalice, though he grimaced slightly as he said it.

"Though the fruit of your virile loins shall be mine!" Pig Iron waggled a claw admonishingly, and he turned smartly, gesturing along the concrete platform. The albino-coloured dragon began to walk, and the rest of the gang followed him. "Come, come, friends of Clan Diamond. We haven't far to go."

Chip hung his head as the group left the station. "I didn't mean—"

"It's okay, Chip," said Silver Chalice suddenly. "My daughter has her inheritance, and she finally knows who she is. No more hiding. With Pig Iron's patronage, the Irontail estate is regaining the stature it used to have in ages past. And as for myself—" The unicorn grew silent. They walked on and after a few more heart-beats, Silver Chalice continued. "Love finds one in the most unexpected of places."

Chip looked at the stallion for a moment, and saw a spring in his step which had been missing before. The realization surprised the colt.

"My pet Oak Keg has a sister, Cornflower," said Pig Iron, chatting amiably. "She works in the bar waiting tables. She is, much like her brother, a fine specimen. I won't say I am not pleased, but I did little but allow nature to take its course."

"She is now my fiancée, and as close to a mother for Sunshine as I could ever hope."

"And with any luck, she and Silver here will bear me many fine foals! Unicorns, like their sire!"

"This old bastard knew exactly what he was doing," swore Silver, glaring daggers at Pig Iron.

The white dragon held up both claws in supplication. "I did nothing! I told you, she is a fine specimen. I gave explicit orders to treat you and your daughter like any other pony." Pig Iron turned back, walking once more, his wings rustling. "Of course I hoped, and with luck that hope will bear fruit, but that was all down to you."

Chip listened, brightening slowly, as the pair continued bickering. It was clear there was still tension, but as Silver Chalice had put it, they had an agreement.

"The contract is still out on the Irontail Estate. I do not know if it will ever be rescinded, but it will fall lower and lower in priority as the years pass. It is worthless at this point as none will cross me to collect," Pig Iron stated, indicating the correct path through the looming houses as they left the train and station far behind. Around them, the cold wintry air bit mercilessly, and Chip was unsurprised to see frost on the ground. Glancing at the houses, all had ice forming on the windows. He shivered, it was well past time to be inside, where it was warm.

"And my daughter is safe, she thrives. The price is high, perhaps—" lamented Silver Chalice.

"But I will treasure you and yours, my friend," Pig Iron whispered under his breath, with something akin to pride flitting across his features. "I treasure all my pets."

"That is the only thing which makes this bearable."

After a few minutes of quiet travel, the procession found its way to the gargantuan roughly-circular rock spire which made up Pig Iron's Palace. The dragon waved off his bouncers and headed down a side-tunnel. Standing in the archway, he gestured into the darkness. Chip forged ahead, looking back only once to urge his friends onwards.

The tunnel was ancient, the walls smoothed by application of tens of thousands of claws over many years. Glowing moss-covered rocks provided wan but serviceable green light that seemed to grow brighter the deeper underground the troupe passed. After several long, winding turns, the tunnel opened up into an underground store-room of sorts, full to the brim with stacked barrels and packed boxes.

Pig Iron motioned to a spare corner. "You can leave your stuff here. It won't be touched."

Chip and Bella were released from the wagon's harness, and the conveyance was swiftly stored.

"Thanks, Pig Iron. I'm sure it will all be safe here. Everything except this," said Chip, pointing a hoof at a long, thin, ornately-carved box. "This comes with us until I can be sure it is safe."

Ruff scrambled to pick it up, cradling it in his claws and then leaping out of the wagon, looking expectantly up between Chip and Pig Iron.

"What's in it?" the curious dragon asked.

Chip shook his head. "I'm not going to tell you, but I give you my word that there's nothing dangerous or illegal in that box, and I firmly request it remain closed."

"Ah," said Pig Iron, a grin splitting his toothy muzzle, "a contract it is then! Follow me! A dusty storeroom is no location for such dealings."

As Pig Iron lead the group upwards, the decor steadily became finer and the furniture and other trappings became cleaner and more plush, and the music became louder and more penetrating. The stores under the main rock-tower bar were mostly insulated from the noise, but the beat could be felt even there. As the main area neared, it became almost palpable. This early in the night, things were just heating up. The music grew to be all but deafening as the group tromped through a large oaken door that lead out into the bottom floor of the pub. The band was a pony one, playing mostly percussion, and they plied their trade with relish and gusto. The smoke-filled towering space was full to bursting with dragons, griffons and ponies, all of which were dedicated to forgetting their troubles, or getting into some. There were a few hisses at Ruff, but Chip showed his teeth, snapping and snarling, and the evil looks faded.

"Come on, let's find you a V.I.P. booth," said Pig Iron, raising his voice over the din as he led the way through the throng. The crowds parted, reluctantly at first, until they noticed who it was, then resistance melted away.

Suddenly, even above the noise of the bar, Chip realised they were being hailed.

"Daddy! Piggy!" called a youthful, female voice.

Pig Iron turned around, snarled and leaped. Grabbing his prey quickly, the dragon hurled a smallish pink unicorn filly in the air. He held her high above his head, and she squealed and kicked her legs. "I thought I told you never to say that!"

"Sorry Piggy!" replied Sunshine, and she squealed again happily as the dragon spun her around, holding her firmly but gently by the barrel in mock-anger. The dragon then slung the filly over his shoulders, fitting her neatly above his wings.

"So, have you been good whilst your father and I were out?" the dragon asked, as he resumed his journey to a booth, curling his head around to look at the giggling pony.

"Yes sir!" Sunshine saluted.

"Done all your homework?" Pig Iron inquired, raising an eye-ridge.

"Uh huh!" Sunshine answered, nodding.

"Got Slithers to do your Equestrian again?"

"Of course."

Silver Chalice rolled his eyes.

"Good, good, that's my girl! Remember, it's bribery, threats and extortion..."

"I know," huffed Sunshine, "carrot and stick. I've been favouring Bauxite over Amethyst today, Ammy's been lazy. He hit the sauce yesterday and forgot to pay my bribe to get out of morning washup."

"Bribes?" snorted Silver Chalice, angrily.

"My tiara tax!" Sunshine said, brightly. She pointed a hoof at a jar full of precious stones sitting on the back shelf of the bar. "I'm making myself a tiara with the tips."

"Oh you have been busy!" congratulated Pig Iron.

"I know," Sunshine said. Then she cleared her throat. "Ahem, I said—"

Pig Iron rolled his eyes. "I can see I'll have to watch my step with you. Oak!" Pig Iron roared over the din, glancing at the bar. "Pay the lady."

Oak Cask, the bartender, nodded and opened the till.

"Into her college fund," stated Silver Chalice, in a tone which brooked no compromise.

"But Daaaaadd!"

"Goats butt, little fillies humour their fathers. Oak!" corrected Pig Iron, roaring once more as he shared a glance with Silver. "College fund!"

"Yessir!" answered Oak Cask, and he shut the till again, making a note in a notebook.

"She's helping with the bar?" asked Bella, casting her head about in wonder.

"Truth be told, my fine filly, she'd be running it if I gave her the chance. The staff adore her and the patrons learned to keep their claws off when Amethyst and Bauxite broke a few heads. Since then we've had less problems than usual. If she wasn't going to be busy running the Irontail Estate, I'd have to find a way to purchase her. No offence, Silver."

"I take it as a compliment, sir," grumbled Silver Chalice, rolling his eyes.

The group arrived at a table made of gleaming black marble. It was polished to a shine, with a single gilded candle in the center. Pig Iron gestured to the group, and everyone took a seat.The seats were low, shapeless yet comfortable cushions which moulded themselves to the user's body.

"So," Pig Iron eased himself into his seat and ushered Sunshine to sit next to him. The dragon idly started pleating her mane. "Tell me, what brings you all this way?"

"Delivering the mail," answered Chip, shuffling around on his cushion until he was comfortable, facing the other dragon.

Pig Iron snapped his claws, and hissed and growled in a low, guttural language when a barmaid came past. From the way the light-blue mare made eyes at Silver Chalice, who had remained standing as his friends seated themselves, Chip guessed she was Cornflower. She bowed her head and hurried away, returning swiftly with a large, tall device made of artistically coloured and engraved glass and metal, and a leather pouch of some aromatic dried herbs. Pig Iron pinched a good measure between his claws and sniffed it appreciatively before tamping it down into a small bowl. Spitting a small glob of fire neatly into his now-empty claws, Pig Iron first lit and then took a long drag from the hookah, the pungent smoke bubbling through the water within the device. He curled up, raising his head to puff on the pipe and breathe smoke rings. Sunshine reached for the pipe herself, but Pig Iron tapped her on the head with it, waggling it in the negative. She pouted.

"And you no doubt wanted to show off Hairpin, to let me know she's doing alright." The dragon grinned happily as the pegasus fitted herself behind the same table. It was awkward for the mare, unused to sitting instead of waiting. Eventually, she scooted next to Pig Iron, blushing at Chip, as he was on the far side.

Chip nodded, grinning. "I did."

"I don't suppose you'd want to sell her back?"

Chip shook his head, firmly. "No, not unless she wants to return."

"Pity." The dragon leaned back and relaxed further. The music grew lower-key, Pig Iron having signaled the band discretely with his claws. "I wouldn't ask you to, either. Stalliongrad... it's a big city, but not big enough, not for her."

"I-I've got business in—"

"Neighvada. I know. Thank you for taking care of her, young dragon," said Pig Iron, gazing wistfully at the pegasus that had once been his property. "I cannot cage my pets, even if it means they sometimes fly away. If you ever—" The dragon broke off, waving the claw that held the water-pipe in the air apologetically, as with the other he wiped at his eyes.

"If I ever wanted to part with one of them?" Chip stared long and hard at the table. "I think, if I ever had to do something like that, you would be the one I would come to."

Pig Iron nodded, slowly. "An understanding, then. I appreciate that."

Cornflower returned a second time, balancing a silver platter on her back. With smooth, practiced movements, she hoofed over a mug for everybody at the table. Chip's and Pig Iron's mugs sizzled with acrid fumes.Ruff covered his nose, eyes watering after he took a sniff. Pig Iron chuckled, quaffing a good snout-full of the molten brew. A collection of snacks were also placed on the table.

"Ooh! Snacks! Look, I'm a dragon!" shrilled Sunshine, and she hoofed herself some crystallized sugar-lumps and made a big show of eating them as if they were crystals. Hairpin giggled behind a hoof whilst Pig Iron and Silver Chalice both glared at her.

"Try that with salt like last time, little missy, and you're grounded for a week," warned Silver Chalice.

"And no flying lessons, either," added Pig Iron.

Sunshine pouted, "You're no fun. Chip gets to eat what he wants."

"Chip is a dragon lord," explained Pig Iron patiently, "and you're not."

"But why can't I be a dragon like Chip?"

"Because, little one, I haven't adopted you – and your father wouldn't take it kindly if I did. I doubt he'd be much happier than if I turned you into my own little princess, so I suggest you stop trying. No more sugar for you—off to bed now! Cornflower will tuck you in." Pig Iron gently but firmly evicted the pink unicorn from her comfortable nest between his foreclaws. She unceremoniously picked herself up and glared.

"No fun at all," grumbled Sunshine, but she gave the dragon a peck on the cheek, and did the same with her father, before trotting off towards the bar.

"Was I as precocious as that?" asked Hairpin, smiling, her ears flicking about in mirth.

"My dear Hairpin, you were far worse. The only saving grace was you had to do what I told you to, even if you didn't do as your parents bid, and even then you got your way most of the time."

"I turned out alright though, didn't I?" Hairpin asked, eyes wide and innocent.

Chip choked on his drink in what sounded suspiciously like a giggle, and Carmine, Beth and Ruff busied themselves eating.

Pig Iron sighed, "My darling Hairpin Turn, you were a triumph – of your parent's patience if nothing else." Good-natured laughter followed this statement, and the pegasus blushed hotly. As it died away, Pig Iron cleared his throat. "So," Pig Iron snapped his claws and then drummed them on the table, "the package. What do you offer in return for my keeping it safe?"

"For holding onto a box?" replied Chip, as innocently as possible.

Pig Iron roared with laughter, drying his eyes with his claws. "Oh my, young dragon, that was excellent! Well played, well played!" The dragon chuckled, sucking on the water-pipe and blowing smoke-rings thoughtfully for a few moments. Leaning forwards so his spiked muzzle was illuminated by the single candle in the centre of the table, he placed both claws out in front of him and looked Chip square in the eyes. "Okay, I offer you this – a favour for a favour. At some point, I will ask you for a favour in return. Nothing illegal, for a given value of 'illegal', nothing overly dangerous in itself, and nothing against your own personal values. Should the favour be larger than the one I do you now in kind, we will discuss further terms, and vice-versa. Is that acceptable?"

Reluctantly, Chip nodded, and lifted a hoof above the table. Pig Iron shook it. "I, er, should tell you it's wanted."

"All the better, my boy, it increases the value of the favour in return!" Pig Iron's eyes glittered in the smoky half-light.

Chip gulped, but nodded. "I'm not sure who's after it, I think they're dragons, but... I'm not sure. Things don't smell right."

"Oh ho, young scion, we have got ourselves into a pickle, haven't we? Well, never fear, your box is as safe here as anywhere. None will dare penetrate my hoard for it."

"As much as our hoard in Tacksworn is protected, I feel it is safer here, from whatever it turns out to be."

"Hmm, if they're foolish yet handsome-enough critters, I may just add them to my collection!" Pig Iron roared with laughter again, drying tears from his eyes with a claw. "Come, come, this calls for a celebration! Let us speak of happier things; my good friend and his compatriots pays my humble establishment a visit, and my darling Hairpin returns! May I?" Pig Iron looked at Chip.

Chip nodded. "D-do you really want her back?"

"Of course I do!" Pig Iron said, half-spreading his wings. He chuckled. "But I told you, I would never take her, even if you gave 'Pin to me. Stalliongrad is too small for the likes of her." Pig Iron embraced Hairpin, wrapping his wings around her. "I've missed you, girl! Is he treating you well?" Pig Iron's claws lit up with a healing spell, and the dragon ran them over the pegasus' body lightly, from behind her ears, down to her withers.

She nickered happily. "I missed you too, Piggy!"

"Shush, you. I told you never to call me that either!"

"Can't make me no more!"

"No." Pig Iron laughed. "I can't. So what else brings you all back here then?"

"Two things, other than Master's box. One, we needed to deliver some papers to Silver and Sunshine."

"They're in the wagon, I presume?" Pig Iron asked, nodding. "Go on." He picked up his drink, taking a long draught.

"And two," Hairpin interrupted, throwing her wings wide with joy. "I'm pregnant!"

Pig Iron coughed, slamming his stein down on the table and wheezing. He thumped himself on the chest, spitting boiling hot globs of molten metal all over the black marble. "You're what?" he asked, weakly.

"I'm..." Hairpin was suddenly bashful. She looked at her flanks, and then looked at the floor, blushing hotly and gesticulating with her wings.

Pig Iron's snout fell open in shock. Then he shut it and put a claw to his forehead. "I forgot to tell you about that, didn't I?" asked the dragon, turning to Chip.

Chip nodded, ears laying flat.

Hairpin chuckled. "I'm looking forwards to it. I've never been a mommy."

Pig Iron puffed long on the hookah, shaking his head. "Still, I apologize. I should have been more thorough, even given the circumstances."

"Well, Uncle Piggy, we'll be up to see you when he or she is big enough to travel!"

The white dragon rustled his wings hopefully. "You mean that?"

"Of course! Master's got plenty of business here, I can't see why we shouldn't!"

"Oh, this is going to be marvellous! I'll be so glad! I really have missed you! Do you think..." The dragon put the water-pipe down for a moment. "Oh, there is so much we need to discuss!"

"Hmm?" mumbled Chip, yawning.

"Why, bloodlines! Bloodlines, of course!"

"What?" Chip asked, one eye twitching.

Hairpin chuckled. "Pig Iron, I am barely with foal, it is entirely too premature for planning my offspring's futures quite that far ahead yet!"

"Wait, you want to... discuss breeding her... her..." Chip didn't know where to look or point his hooves. Despairingly he looked from Pig Iron back to Hairpin.

"Of course!" replied the pegsus. "You don't want to breed your prize pet with just any old pony! Only the best for my offspring!"

Chip must have looked aghast, as the pegasus tried her best to comfort him. "Don't worry, Chip, I'll explain it all later."

"Maybe," Pig Iron said thoughtfully, "I can show you something which might help. For a small fee, of course."

"Fee?" Chip replied weakly, thoughts sculling somewhere he hadn't expected them to go.

"We must take your package to my hoard. Show me the contents of that box, and I'll show you something which may help you to understand Hairpin a little bit better."

Chip nodded numbly, and got up to follow the dragon.

Pig Iron's hoard was below his club, in meandering, silent catacombs, through endless corridors of rock.

"They were dug by those gem-eyed ponies in ages past. Stalliongrad is hollow, you know, with passages leading everywhere." Pig Iron's voice echoed oddly, snatches of sound returning like distant speech. For all Chip knew, they were. His own hoof-beats resounded off far, distant surfaces. It was as if the rock itself were speaking to them, whispering of ancient deeds, long hidden.

"I remember," Chip answered, chuckling.

"No doubt." Pig Iron lead the way, clutching a torch in one claw. It spat and hissed, the flickering light casting strange shadows on the walls. Finally, the two reached a door. It was a heavy door, made of metal. The mechanism to open it was simple – a large, spoked wheel – but Chip knew it would open for only one creature. "There are very few I have ever let see this. I think you need to see it, though. Then maybe you will understand."

"I am honoured, Pig Iron," replied Chip, bowing his head. He lifted it as the door swung inwards, revealing a large cavernous space. Glowing rocks brightened in the presence of their master, and the simple yet spacious and neat hoard was revealed. "I must admit," Chip said as he stepped gingerly into the cavern, "that I didn't quite expect that." Chip cast his head about, from one free-standing wall to another. They were adorned with painstakingly arranged pictures and mementos of his pets, past and present. One relatively new picture – a photograph – had Pig Iron bending down to help a pegasus mare give birth. There were other photographs of a young pegasus filly growing up. Captions exclaimed 'her first flight' and 'first day at school', and there followed many medals and trophies, and a good deal of ribbons. Many of these were blue.

"I told you I appreciated my pets."

Chip's eyes grew moist as he looked to the very top, where a framed poster had Pig Iron and an ecstatic Hairpin embracing after she had won the Stalliongrad Pegasus Flight Cup. "I... had no idea."

"I'm a sentimental fool, I know." Pig Iron blushed, turning away.

Chip lifted a hoof to gently stroke the first ever picture of the pegasus which now belonged to him. "You're not," he whispered. "Everyone should have pictures of their family." Chip shook himself and turned to Pig Iron. "Open the box; you deserve the truth."

Pig Iron unhitched the latch and eased the lid open, and then very slowly began to laugh. He cleared the tears from his eyes. "You sneaky son of a lizard! So, where did you put it? No, no, don't tell me. Just tell me, what is it?"

"It's... something which is both utterly useless and yet sought after, for all the wrong reasons."

"Ah, it's not what they think it is, is it? Let me see – your diamond dog brought it in; it presumably would fit in that box..." Pig Iron's eyes narrowed as he thought. "Some sort of sword, or other symbol of office, am I right? No, not a sword. It'll be a staff, too big for something ceremonial like a sceptre.”

Chip nodded. "The king of the diamond dogs had a staff."

"But the one you have, that's not it, is it?"

Chip shook his head. "They'll never believe us, though, so I've hidden it."

"And they all think it's hidden here." Pig Iron whistled appreciatively. "That's a bigger favour than I thought it was."

"I know," Chip said, turning away. "I don't know if I can ever repay you."

"Keeping Pin happy and healthy is a good start, my boy. Come on, we should be getting back."

♠♣♥♦

Carmine tore at the bloody lump of roasted, dead animal in her foreclaws, her tongue tracing the sharpened edges of her yellow beak as she sought to prevent the juices from ruining her feathers. "Gotta give it to the colt, this is one heck of a holiday."

"I suppose," sniffed Beth. "He's going to have to unruffle dad's feathers though, and my mom's. They've both been treating me like a little chick since... you know."

Carmine squawked softly. "We're with a dragon lord though. In the middle of a stone fortress full of more dragons. I think we're about as safe as we can get."

"When you mention this to your mom, don't mention it was a bar. I'll never hear the end of it if my mom finds out."

Ruff sat on the edge of the table, swinging his hind legs as he sipped at a fizzy drink through a coloured straw. "Will bo—will staff really be safe here?" the pup asked.

"I think that damned thing's as safe here as anywhere. Probably safer than Celestia's vaults, if you ask me." Carmine said, then bent to resume eating. Something bothered her though, some feeling... she felt the feathers on the back of her neck fluff up. In one swift movement, Carmine threw the broken bone to one side, turned, and leaped at a seeming-pony. Beth unsheathed her hind claws also, leaping at another pony who was trotting past Ruff. The diamond dog pup himself threw his glass at the first pony and rolled under the table.

The two ponies – one a black a white pegasus stallion, the other a cream-coloured unicorn mare, screamed in a most un-ponylike fashion as the griffons' claws dug into their abdomens. The blood that flowed from their wounds glowed bright green, and around the punctures, the ponies' coats became blackened and hard. In moments, their bodies twisted and their coats' colours fluctuated and changed. Where before had been ordinary-looking ponies, now lay strange caricatures; their legs were long and thing, with odd holes near the base. Their hide was black and glossy, with a chitinous covering, and their mouths sported large fangs whilst a sharp, bent horn adorned their heads. Frail, gossamer-like wings buzzed angrily and sharp hooves struck out at the griffons, the oddly-jointed horns jabbing as the creatures fought back.

"What the..." Beth recoiled in shock and horror, and the 'pony' she had pinned hissed at her, bringing all four legs in to give a vicious kick. The impact threw the griffon off, though she immediately rolled onto her paws and leaped again. The creature was ready, though, and rolled with the assault. In a flash, there were two Beths.

"Plucked pinions! She looks just like me!" said one, raking viciously with her talons.

"Don't listen to her! She's the changeling! Get her off me!" implored the second, whimpering as the attacks increased.

"No don't! She's th-the fake!" cried the first, snapping her beak angrily.

"Somebody do something! I can barely hold this one!" squawked Carmine as she tussled, raking her claws across the creature beneath her.

"Ruff help!" shouted Ruff, and he leaped onto the back of the first Beth, falling amidst the hissing, clawing melee. At the first's scream of rage, however, Ruff clambered his way over the Beth in question to sink his teeth into the wings of the second. With a howl, the second lost her disguise again. Wrenching herself free of both Beth and Ruff, the injured creature fled in the crowd, and was gone.

Beth stood there panting, green ichor oozing around her talons and beak, as she looked down at Ruff. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Ruff had no idea what changelings were, until not-Beth said she was one," proclaimed Ruff, grinning widely, his tail wagging furiously.

"Good thinking, pup! That just leaves..." Beth turned to Carmine, who was nudging and shaking the prone form she had pinned.

Carmine shook her head sadly and disengaged her claws. "It... it died. I didn't kill it, it just... died." The griffon stared down at her dead prey sadly. "I didn't mean to."

"Hold, young griffon," said an out-of-breath Pig Iron as he shouldered his way through the growing throng. The dragon bent down, poking at the body with his claws. "It was an honourable kill, and a dishonourable death for a dishonourable creature."

Chip trotted up to Carmine and entwined his neck with hers. "I felt the same, you know, when I killed that diamond dog."

Carmine hissed and jumped back as the creature started to melt. In moments, there was nothing left but a spreading green puddle of goo. "I-I've killed before. I mean, I eat meat, I catch food myself, but th-that was the first—"

Chip hugged her tighter. "It's okay, you did what you had to."

"At least we know who was following us," said Beth, sighing.

"Ruff not think so," replied the diamond dog. He wrinkled his nose as he sniffed the air. "Ruff not so sure."

"Doesn't smell right?" asked Chip, stepping back so his hooves stayed clear of the muck.

"Not smell right at all."

♠♣♥♦

Chip opened his eyes, and immediately regretted it. He shut them tightly again against the glare of the sun filtering in through the high windows of the room he was in. He hissed, curling up more, seeking to get his head below the lip of the depression in the ground. Soft warbles from another corner of the room successfully blocked his attempt to get back to sleep. Turning around in his weyr, Chip lifted his head out to scout his surroundings. After a momentary attack of dizziness - accompanied by a flood of incoherent memories from the night before involving drinks which probably weren't good for him and food that definitely wasn't - his head cleared enough to take stock.

The room was relatively plain, with almost as diverse a collection of sleeping arrangements as it had occupants. A large collection of mattresses, blankets and pillows were filled by Bella, Penny and Hairpin, with Ruff curled up between Hairpin's forehooves and nestled against her chest. Beth and Carmine were each sequestered in nest-like structures of wood and bronze, inlaid with down-filled, oversized pillows. For his part, Chip had fallen asleep in a draconic weyr—a dusty hollowed-out depression in the rock floor.

Chip stretched, popping his leg joints one after another. Then he yawned, loudly. Then stretched again.

Carmine opened one eye, then closed it again. "If you're hungry, you can get yourself breakfast, dragon-boy."

Chip snorted. "Was just going to."

"Uh huh." Carmine chirped a yawn and fluffed her feathers up again, laying her leonine tail across her beak.

Chip clip-clopped slowly across the room and opened the door with a touch of his hoof.

"A cup of tea would work wonders, Master," murmured Hairpin. Grumbling, Chip exited the guest room.

As the warm, fragrant scent of spiced tea wafted throughout the bedroom, Carmine opened both her eyes and stretched, chirping out a yawn. She extended first one wing and then the other, before stepping out onto the rug-covered stone floor. Chip trotted in happily, tail held high, as he pulled a small trolley laden with pastries, tea, and toast.

"You got us breakfast?" Carmine asked, eyes wide as her beak fell open in shock.

"Yeah! I, er, did!" Chip beamed, quite proud of himself.

"Will there be anything else, Master Chip?" asked a hesitant voice outside the door. Chip's ears drooped, but his grin grew wider.

"Quite alright, miss Cornflower, thank you!" replied Chip, the grin staying put but the pride behind it evaporating.

Carmine rolled her eyes. "Come in, Cornflower, if you're hungry." The griffon paced past Chip to open the door, flicking him with her tail. "We shall talk about this later," hissed Carmine as she ushered the light blue earth pony mare in.

"That's how it starts!" came a muffled, giggling voice from the large, pony-covered bed.

♠♣♥♦

The sun was high in the sky, the warmth of its rays held back by an icy-cold wind from the North. Its rays cast the busy city of Stalliongrad in harsh relief, the bright glare a welcome reminder of summer and the promise of an eventual spring, even as the weather grew colder and colder. The Stalliongrad Central Railway Station was packed. Everywhere were dragons, griffons and ponies. Warm puffs of breath from the prospective passengers waiting in the freezing conditions hung in the air, turning to minute icy crystals which shone in a scintillating rainbow of colours. In the midst of all this was a sombre group of creatures.

Sunshine sniffled quietly. "I wish you could stay longer, cousin."

"Me too," replied Chip, embracing the smaller pink unicorn with his neck. "We can't though. I've got to get back, we've got school and everything. You take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will, I promise."

"Stick close to your dad and Pig Iron; they'll keep you safe."

"I think," spoke up the dragon, "that I will invest in a set of draconic armour. It has served you well, my boy, I'm quite sure it will serve her, too."

"That's all we need," snorted Silver Chalice. “My daughter with weaponry. Be off with you, now, and stay in touch."

"I will. We will be watchful, we will be ready."

The group of ponies, griffons, a dragon and a diamond dog boarded the train. Without much fanfare, and with the long, mournful howl of the whistle, it moved off Westwards, towards Canterlot and, eventually, home.

♠♣♥♦

Hearth and Home - Part 2

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═══════════════════════════════════

Chapter 14
Hearth and Home
Part 2
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

♠♣♥♦

The cavern was small and cramped, the walls pock-marked with rough claw-marks from where the pack had been digging it out. The Tacksworn Deep Holt was new, unfinished, and currently almost empty. Ventilation shafts led upwards to the surface. Down them flowed cool, crisp air as well as the sounds of celebration. Above, Tacksworn rang in Winter and bid farewell to the Fall. Below in the cavern, two groups of hulking trolls stood glaring at each other warily in the flickering torch-light, soft growls echoing between them in the enclosed space, sizing each other up.

Diamond Dogs weren't generally very good at sneaky, but Bruiser and Gnasher had learned a few tricks since Akhekhu had taken them under her wing. As alphas in the Sapphire Reaches Pack, formerly of the Shattered Hills, they had pledged their lives to the blue dragoness, ancient matriarch of her dragon clan and titular monarch who had enslaved their ancestors. Now, their geas demanded action, and the most furtive of meetings was about to take place.

"You not followed?" Bruiser asked, furtively glancing at the barred doors to the holt.

"We not followed. You not followed?" Gnasher replied, biting off his words in the snarling growl which stood for his attempt at 'stealthy'.

"No. It safe to talk." Bruiser clenched his great paws into fists. Talking wasn't his strong point, but it was necessary.

"When do we kill weakling dragon-pup?" demanded Gnasher, baring his teeth, top lip curling upwards. "Whelp is small and puny. We take this town tomorrow if whelp dead."

"Fool!" snarled Bruiser, stomping forwards with clenched fists. Gnasher leaned forwards, daring Bruiser to take another step. Bruiser ignored it. "Sharptooth run through us like claws through hide! We must wait, bide time. Bow down to dragon-pup for now... when ready, he pay."

"When is ready?" Gnasher grumbled. "Am tired of bowing to pathetic pony-dragon. Tired of scraping to worthless mongrel trolls from worthless town. This our town. When we take it?"

"When we have what Mistress seeks. Dragon-pup don't have staff, but dragon-pup have map," Bruiser said, stomping a hind foot for emphasis.

Gnasher slammed one meaty fist into the other, snapping his teeth and growling low. "But map is wrong map! My hounds know this! Yours do too!" the diamond dog snarled, glaring balefully as he leveled one great paw at his pack-mate. A chorus of growls from the assembled, mostly-submissive betas signalled general agreement. It was a challenge which set the other group baring fangs and raising hackles in response. Before the displeasure could turn to an all-out scrap, Gnasher rounded on them all, growling at them to fall in line.

As silence fell, Bruiser just grinned. "No, it not that map is wrong map, or that staff is wrong staff! Staff exist, yes?"

"Yeesss..?" Gnasher replied, furrowing his brow.

"Bruiser thinking: staff exist, map exist... map may be wrong map, staff wrong staff... but map exist, staff exist."

"You say... you say..." Gnasher screwed up his muzzle, deep in thought, his pack betas watching his every move intently in between glaring at their opponents and baring fangs.

"Bruiser say real staff exist, real map exist. Best place to find them? Here. Dragon pup bring them to us, and when he does, we take. He no alpha. He just pup. Bruiser challenge! Bruiser crush, Bruiser kill... wear pelt for cloak. Dragon cloak!"

Gnasher growled low in his throat, thoughtfully. "Mistress not like that." The diamond dog scratched at his chin, pacing. Scheming was something difficult for him. He'd been born into the pack, had risen through the ranks due to his formidable size, and had been taken before Akhekhu to be made a true alpha. She had claimed him for her own, placing her mark upon his hide and her claws around his heart. He hated her with a burning passion that rivaled any dragon's fire, but had no way to break free. "What do when Mistress want staff?"

"Bruiser no listen to Mistress then. Bruiser then king of all diamond dogs! Bruiser king even of Mistress." The diamond dog spat on the floor, kicking dust over the drying patch of phlegm. "That Mistress."

Gnasher shook, glancing furtively around the empty cavern, almost sure she could hear them. "Mistress strong! Powerful!"

"Bruiser be stronger. Pack show how, right?"

Gnasher stepped back, growling, as the alpha male before him turned to his betas. Gnasher's fur stood on end, there was something... wrong about Bruiser's pack-mates. "Why listen to them? What they know? Stupid mongrels! Akhekhu skin you all, use bones for soup!"

Bruiser's pack-mates hissed at him, low growls emanating from their throats. He snarled back, beating his chest.

One stood forward. "We show you, mighty alpha Gnasher, but this not for beta pups. Just for alpha dogs." His eyes glittered in the semi-darkness.

"You show how to defeat dragon?"

"Oh yes, alpha Gnasher, we can defeat a dragon. We tell you how. Unless you scared. "

Gnasher growled to himself, but turned and shooed his minions out. "Leave, dogs! Topside! Join party, watch for dragons, feast. We meet again tomorrow for hunt."

The betas snarled and lashed out with their claws at being dismissed, but betas were betas and they obeyed their alpha. In moments, the cavern was empty.

Grumbling, Gnasher turned back to Bruiser. "Tell!"

Bruiser's betas approached him silently, and every bone in his body told him to run, but he found he couldn't. In the close, fetid gloom, Gnasher swore he saw blue lights dancing like fireflies. It was their eyes, he realized, their eyes were glowing a soft blue. They were like limpid pools. They called to him. He was drowning in them.

"N-no, you not... stay back!"

"Relax, Alpha Gnasher." the voice was soft, sibilant. It wasn't from the betas, it was from... something else. A pony... what was a pony doing here, in the most sacred of troll holdouts? No, it wasn't a pony... it looked kind of like a pony, but it obviously wasn't. And then, in a flickering instant, it was gone again. Whatever it was. Had there been something there? The betas surrounded him now, and he was—

And then he knew. It was a great plan, and he was so proud to have come up with it. Yes, he was so brave and strong; he didn't need to worry about small details, like what the plan actually was. His betas would know what to do, and until then he could happily keep on working for Akhekhu. When the time came, she wouldn't know what hit her.

Gnasher staggered out of the cavern, feeling a little light-headed. Coming up with his quite frankly brilliant plan had left him feeling... drained, somehow. He shook his head; it was pointless worrying and it wouldn't do to be seen like this, so he loped off to find something to kill.

Quietly, Bruiser was led away to his private quarters. His betas were hungry, and as alpha it was his duty to feed them. A faint sound that was almost like hooves clip-clopping on dirt could be heard, before the heavy door was shut and the lights extinguished.

♠♣♥♦

Chip groggily opened his eyes. There was definitely something wrong here. It was the weekend, he wanted to sleep in... and his adopted father was standing looming over him with the daftest of grins waiting for him to get up. Chip groaned, and pulled the covers over his head with a flick of his muzzle. "Go 'way! Tired!" Chip could hear the disappointment in the dragon as it seeped through the blankets. The floorboards creaked as Sharptooth started to turn away to leave. Chip sighed and threw back the covers. "Fine. I'll get up and read about this Billy Mighty. What was he, a goat?"

"Bevelmiter," Sharptooth smoothly replied, "and he was a unicorn. Come on, we need an early start because we've got a lot to do!"

Chip groaned again, slamming his head back down onto the pillow. "Daa-aad! It's the weekend!"

"That's the best time for forging star-metal, my boy! Though first we have to blow the glass... actually scrub that, first we have to brush up on the basics. Bevelmiter always was a stickler for the basics; I think he learned that from me when I taught him in Canterlot."

Hauling himself out of bed, Chip shivered as the cold air of the room hit him. His winter coat had come in nicely, but it didn't mean he liked getting out of a warm bed. He raised one eyebrow skeptically. "You taught this Bevelmiter guy?"

"I did. I was a teacher in Canterlot, at Celestia's School for the Gifted."

"What? When?" Chip raised his head, a few stray strands of hair from his fetlocks still hanging from his lips from where he'd been grooming himself.

Sharptooth tapped a claw on his muzzle thoughtfully. "Well it wasn't finished for a hundred years or so, and I taught there before they'd finished the roof..."

Chip sauntered past, stretching his legs until the joints popped. "Okay, whatever, Dad. When you want to tell me something believable, I'm all ears." Chip's stomach rumbled. "Breakfast first. I'll make the tea."

Sharptooth raised a claw and opened his muzzle in retort, but the youngster was already out of earshot, traversing the stairs. Chuckling to himself, Sharptooth did his best to straighten Chip's bed. Then he flung open the curtains, turned around and stomped downstairs.

Breakfast had been simple – the feasting the night before meant neither of the two had much of an appetite. Hairpin had slept late and could smell a boy's day in a mile off in any event. As Sharptooth and Chip trudged into the bowels of the cave-home, the pegasus jotted down a list of supplies, devoured something from the fridge, threw on her saddlebags and trotted out the front door.

"Just popping out to Tacksworn, boys. Don't break anything!" she called, before chomping on the handle and dragging the heavy door closed.

"Sure thing M- Pin!" Chip called over his shoulder as he trotted after the great green lizard.

Sharptooth stopped before the Hoard door and waited for the boy to catch up before opening it. "We're going to need my furnace to make some Bevelmiter tubes," the dragon said, snapping a claw at the torches. They burst into warm yellow flames. "We'll need sand and starmetal, and my engraving kit for more precise work on the runes... and a book."

"Runes?" Chip asked. "Just what are these Bevelmiter tubes?"

"A unicorn's magic is in his horn, yes? Well, do you see a unicorn horn on my brow?"

Chip shook his head.

"No," Sharptooth said, "that's because a dragon does not need a horn to focus his magic. More to the point, earth ponies don't have horns either, yet they have magic. Pegasi use their wings, and can walk on clouds. This is all... ambient magic. Intrinsic. Haven't they taught you this at school?"

Chip's ears flattened against his head and he blushed.

"I see," the elder dragon said, raising one eye-ridge. "Then it is good that we are having this little impromptu lesson. Bevelmiter was my student at Celestia's School. He was always going on and on about intrinsic magic. Eventually, after he graduated, he took up research into it. Most of his works are now in the Starswirl Wing; they are not for the faint of heart. Of those who can understand them, few can comprehend the majesty of his meta-thaumic research. I am no slouch in the study of magic myself, but he... he was a genius."

Sharptooth led the way deeper into the hoard cave, past odd collections of tools and paintings, to a bookcase. The bookcase itself was made of solid wood, a dark cherry of some sort. It stood innocuously next to a wall, gathering dust. The brass handles on the cupboards and drawers in the bottom half were too small for a dragon Sharptooth's size to open, they seemed more suited for ponies. In them were stacks of scrolls and sheets of papers. Upon the shelves were more aged scrolls and various time-worn leather-bound volumes. Seemingly at random, Sharptooth selected tome after tome, flipping through their pages or merely glancing at the title, before placing them back. Finally he found the one he wanted. It was obviously old, though newer than a good deal of the works in the dragon's collection. It was bound in a curious, dark-brown skin-like material. Chip sniffed at it as the dragon tenderly flicked through the pages. It was leather, real leather. More than that though, it was—

"Dad... that's made from pony-skin."

Sharptooth nodded. "It's Bevelmiter's last true work of art, and the only spell which he never managed to write down."

Chip tilted his head, "What? He made that book, with a spell?"

"Yes. He entrusted it to the one person who would know what it was, whom he trusted never to reveal its method of creation."

"Dad, it's... it's skin. How did... how did he make it?"

"Think, lad." Sharptooth's voice was soft, gentle. "He spent his life researching the transfer of magic, knowledge and abilities."

Chip recoiled as he realized what the dragon was holding. "That's... him?"

In the flickering torchlight, Sharptooth's expression was sombre and wistful. "Using the last of his waning strength, he begged me take care of his legacy. You have to understand, a unicorn like Bevelmiter... normal ponies don't go bad, but there have been those who overstep their bounds. Bevelmiter knew, by the end, just how far he had come. His work, if fully realized, could be incredibly dangerous. So he bound it up in the one form that he knew a pony could never bear to read, and gave it to the one person who would never use it."

"Why not just destroy it?"

Sharptooth snorted. "When you spend a lifetime building something, even though you know it to be terrible, tearing it down is still often more painful than you can bear. Bevelmiter was the same. This tome holds everything he ever knew; every spell, every diagram, every treatise. The pages aren't just enchanted, they are suffused with his very essence. He, with his dying breath, carved it out of his own body. That final act of creation is the only one that could never make it into these pages; to cast it, it must act upon the whole but not itself. It was for the best, too. It is dark magic that can take a creature and bind its very soul up in pages of vellum."

Chip gulped. "Y-you mean, that's actually Bevelmiter?"

"Everything he was, minus his intellect. He wanted to make sure he hadn't forgotten to write anything down. I tried to persuade him otherwise, but with ponies like him, there is no arguing."

"And we need... that?"

Sharptooth stroked the cover of the book softly. "I have other copies of the pertinent information, but none so concise. And besides, who better to help us? The old boy gets lonely, I'm sure."

"Dad, you're weirding me out."

"Shh." Sharptooth waggled his eyebrows conspiratorially as he whispered behind a paw, pointing to the book. "You'll upset him."

The blast from the furnace was sweltering, though it didn't bother the two dragons. Chip was sweating from exertion, and even Sharptooth was huffing and puffing as he sought to keep the furnace hot enough.

"Don't. Stop. Stirring!" wheezed the elder dragon, sucking down a great gulp of air as he set to breathing once again through a low-set door at the base the infernal contraption. He stopped every few seconds to place a claw on various strategic points of a set of squiggly lines, stars and other symbols on the floor, and mutter to himself.

"Why can't you just..." Chip waved a hoof about as he stirred with the other, "Make it hot with your magic? Like... wheeooo!"

"Dragons do not 'wheeooo'," Sharptooth answered breathlessly as he straightened up, dipping a claw into the mixture and tasting it for consistency. "Even if we did, this is thaumatic imprinted glass. If we try to take shortcuts, it will not respond to morphic fields consistently. Now, fetch that pipe, and blow. The salt's just about right, the lime's perfect and the soda is right on the bits."

"So what do I do?" Chip asked, as he nudged the long, hollow tube into the molten glass.

"Blow. Slowly and carefully. I'll nudge it along into shape. Once you've started blowing it, it'll imprint smoothly with your morphic field. Think about what you're doing. Love it. It's your creation, all yours. You made it, shaped with your own four hooves. Tell it about itself."

"You what?" Chip asked, lifting his muzzle from the tube.

"That glass – shards, child, blow! – is a part of you. It has to be, for it to answer your calls."

"If you say so." Chip bent his head to the long metal tube once more and began to turn it with his hooves, slowly, as he blew into it. Gradually, the lump of molten glass on the end began to take shape. As Chip blew, Sharptooth exerted his magic. Delicate touches of thaumic energy flickered and teased across the surface of the tube as it lengthened and took shape.

A short while later, Sharptooth examined the glass tube. It was still red hot, but it had cooled enough to be solid. Nodding to himself in satisfaction as he checked it carefully for flaws, he judged it suitable. Snipping it off the blow-tube with his claws, Sharptooth set about filing the top smooth with his talons. Eventually he was satisfied, and placed it carefully on a smooth piece of cloth. Blowing fire on it gently, he rolled it to and fro for a few minutes, before straightening and pronouncing it finished.

"There, that looks about right. It's great for a first attempt. Of course, Bevelmiter would have yelled at me about being a sloppy, blithering idiot, and he would have thrown it back in the furnace, but I believe the lesson will have more of an impact if we finish it today rather than you and I spending the next decade 'getting it right'."

"A decade?" Chip snorted, peering intently at the glass bauble. He poked it experimentally with a hoof, watching it roll. Sharptooth leaped and steadied it before it fell to its doom.

"Trust me. A decade. Even for a dragon, my patience was running thin by the end of it. I sometimes wonder how he got so much done. I don't think he slept at all for the last fifty years of his life." Sharptooth sat on his haunches for a few moments, reminiscing. Laughing to himself at a scene only he could see, the elder dragon picked up a roughly bar-shaped piece of star-metal and turned it paw-over-paw. "Most of us dragons are well versed in metallurgy, but from an entirely different perspective than griffons or ponies. Star metal though, like this, is too rare to consume. Most times, we collect what others have shaped. Bevelmiter taught me to appreciate the art of smelting and smithing."

"What're you going to do with that?" Chip asked.

For an answer, Sharptooth fished out a crucible, placed the bar into it, and heated the furnace up again. Chip sighed heartily and rolled his eyes, before trotting off to get something to stir with.

A while later, the molten metal had gone from a dull grey lump to a white hot liquid. Sharptooth deftly picked up the crucible and gently but smoothly poured the mixture into a mould. Placing a mirror-image of the mould on top and steadying it with his paws, the dragon bade Chip hit the blocks. The workshop rang with the echoing sounds of metal on metal as Chip tempered and shaped the final piece. Finally, Sharptooth told the youngster to stop. Heaving the two halves apart with his fore and hind paws, Sharptooth freed a silvern slither of metal shaped roughly like a thunderbolt from it's prison.

Chip whistled through his teeth. "What is it?"

"This is what you will be carving the runes I showed you earlier into. By your own hoof."

"Aww Dad! I don't even know what it does!" Chip whined, watching as Sharptooth deftly sliced off the excess and filed it down.

"Do it right and I'll show you," Sharptooth promised, grin wide and glistening in the light from the furnace.

Chip huffed, but took the proffered piece of metal in his mouth. It stuck out a good few inches either side. The substance made him wince; it tingled where it touched his teeth, little jabs of pain jumping from gum to gum. He placed it down between two clamps and fastened them both. Picking up a long-shafted graver, he sighted along the length of it, and then placed his hoof into the strap of a hoof-hammer.

At the youngster's questioning glance, Sharptooth nodded encouragingly. "That's right, lad, gently now. Slowly at first. It's about repetition and precision, not brute force. The rune-crafting will temper the metal..." Sharptooth hovered nervously as Chip lined up for the blow.

The youngster raised his hoof, brought it down, and struck.

"Ow. Ow, ow, ow..."

Sharptooth chuckled as he reclined against the wall, embracing his son and stroking his mane. "It takes years to properly learn how to engrave, but for your first time? I think you did excellently. Dizziness gone now?"

"Uh huh." Chip grimaced as a nod of his head sent little ripples of pain shooting behind his eyes.

"Good, that means I can do this." Sharptooth touched one claw to Chip's poll, and suddenly it was if a huge weight was lifted from the boy's withers.

"Wha-?"

"Simple pain relief spell, but it's not safe in cases of mental confusion. Give it a few more moments, then we will continue."

Chip winced again. "Not more hitting?"

"No, lad, no. No more hitting. This is the fun part. You and I are going to put your first Bevelmiter tube together. It's not going to be perfect, but it is going to be functional."

"What's it going to do? What is a Bevelmiter tube?"

"Come with me, and you'll see. You get the star metal, I'll fetch the tube."

Wearily, Chip disentangled himself from the elder dragon and lifted himself to his hooves. It had been a long day, and it promised to only get longer. He sighed heavily, and trotted over to the workbench to retrieve the metal blade. The runes he had engraved on it seemed to shine in the torchlight; he didn't know what they were for, but he'd been very careful placing them. He recognized them as the pictoral script of the unicorns and spotted certain basic forms – stability, calm, and breath of first wind, next to flowing stream. He didn't know whether it was the grooves from the runes or just his imagination, but the solid lump seemed to positively buzz between his teeth now. Shaking his head, he trotted over to Sharptooth, who was just finishing running a claw across the glass tube.

"In finer examples of the craft, we would create a brace for the tube, made of metal – gold or silver for purity, iron for inductance, oricalcum if we wanted thaumic response. In this case, however, I have engraved the corresponding runes directly."

Chip peered at the tube, and noted now that the surface of the object was covered in silvery, spidery text. "That needs runes too? I thought the metal—"

"You would do well to read up on Bevelmiter's work if you are to fully realize your dreams of flight, lad, but for now, pay attention: everything within this creation must play its own part. The two halves of your creation must both have your imprint upon them. The external runes, however, are merely control and manipulation. It is the inner construct which must answer to its owner's call."

"But what does it do?" Chip asked, as Sharptooth relieved him of his burden, the elder dragon turning the piece over and over as he examined it.

Grunting in approval, Sharptooth gestured to Chip. "Come, place your hooves here. Hold the glass tube – gently, don't shatter it. Once it is whole, it will be nigh indestructible, but incomplete like this, it is still fragile."

Chip sat back on his haunches, held almost upright by Sharptooth's tail around his midsection. He put one hoof on either side of the glass tube, and the elder dragon gently but firmly placed the metallic blade flat between one of Chip's hooves and the bauble.

"The glass remembers when it was sand. The metal remembers when it was molten. You have shaped it, but it remembers. In a moment, I shall remind them of that time. When I say so, push your hooves together."

"What? You said it'd break..." Chip gulped nervously, glancing back and forth between his father and the precious creation they'd spent all morning putting together.

"Just do as I say. Push your hooves together... now. Gently, but firmly, push." The elder dragon squeezed, and the rune-covered object beneath Chip's hooves suddenly felt decidedly odd. It was if it had come alive; it vibrated, pulsating like a heartbeat. Stranger still, the metallic thunderbolt-shaped blade seemed to melt into the glass. With a bright flash that caused Chip to gasp and drop the object, the piece of metal sunk fully into the tube, where it gravitated to the center and slowly began to spin, hanging in mid-air.

"What did... did I do that?" Chip's voice was filled with wonder and awe as he poked the device with a hoof. It tinkled slightly, shedding sparks. Sharptooth unwrapped his tail from around Chip's waist and bent to pick up the strange tube. He then harrumphed and hummed to himself as he searched around the workshop. A few moments later he returned with a leather harness, which he placed around the barrel of Chip's chest.

"This is a post-pegasus's harness, and whilst not perfect," Sharptooth said, holding the Bevelmiter tube in one paw as he sized it up against the harness, "it does have a scroll-holster which will fit." The dragon pushed the tube into the holster. The leather criss-crossed in even strips, leaving the device inside visible. Chip eyed it suspiciously.

"Now what?"

"Think about it. Ask it to come alive. Come, this will help." Sharptooth beckoned, holding up a large mirror for the youngster to stand before.

Chip trotted over for a better look. It glittered and shone, casting strange shadows between the leather latticework. It was warm to the touch, and it vibrated gently. Tilting his head, Chip narrowed his eyes and thought about the Bevelmiter tube. It was strange, the heavy weight seemed to almost be a part of him somehow, like an extra limb. He could feel it, pulsating gently. At his mental prodding, it responded. Opening his eyes wide in shock, Chip stared long and hard at his reflection. The central metal piece was spinning wildly, glowing brightly and fizzing with energy. He could feel it; it felt almost like he was running without moving, if he closed his eyes, he could almost believe he was charging across the great plains, hooves slamming into the dirt and propelling his body at great speed. His pulse quickened, his fur stood on end and his breath came faster as a sort of euphoria washed across his body, seemingly tingling down in his bones.

In one smooth motion, Sharptooth fished the Bevelmiter tube out of the harness, and the connection was broken.

"What..." Chip panted for a few seconds before continuing. "What was that?"

"That, my boy, was a fully tuned Bevelmiter tube. With it, even the most mundane of earth ponies can, with the right equipment, perform magic like the most studied of unicorns. And for you, my boy, it will give you wings."

♠♣♥♦

Chip glared down at the book on his desk, lit by a flickering candle. He'd taken it out of the library section of the hoard a couple of weeks ago. At first he'd kept it on the table, but the rustling of its pages at night had made him keep it in a drawer. He was pretty sure it was just the wind, but still – it creeped him out. The taste of the leather in his muzzle had been foreign and unpleasant. He could still taste it from the short trip up to his room, and he'd all but ignored the tome since. It hadn't fazed Sharptooth, but then nothing seemed to faze the old lizard.

After the success with building the Bevelmiter device, the elder dragon had dug through his library for the next phase of Chip's wing design. Throughout his life so far, he'd made friends with a number of colourful individuals. One of them had inspired in him a period of investigation into the mechanics of living creatures. It was an interest which had turned into a lasting hobby, building model flying machines.

Using his expertise, Sharptooth had helped Chip realize a new design for wings, one which the dragon was rapidly turning into reality in a room the dragon had cleared out for use as a workshop. Sharptooth was insisting it was going to be his Hearth's Warming present, though Chip wasn't sure something so complicated could be produced so quickly.

The device was designed around Sharptooth's own wings, refined from the first version which he had finished for the lad. This one was powered by Bevelmiter tubes, with twin banks of actuator crystals. It was already taking shape and looking quite formidable. Even on parchment, it was striking. However, Sharptooth had demanded Chip work out for himself the runes necessary to make the whole shebang work. He had offered to correct the boy's work should he get it wrong, but was insisting Chip learn what he was getting in to. This was why Bevelmiter's book was currently sitting in front of Chip, on his desk. He was sure it was glaring at him. He'd put it off long enough; winter was coming, and he really needed something to do now the nights were too cold and dark to go out in.

"Okay then, I need to know about Bevelmiter tubes. How do they work? How do you work?" Chip swished his tail, feeling a surge of draconic anger at being forced to do more homework – from home of all places. He flipped the book open. The pages flickered between his hooves as if by themselves, and plopped open on a section about Bevelmiter tubes.

"I... see." Chip shivered slightly, and began to read, humming to himself. At one particular passage, his hoof stopped and he hunched over, reading aloud.

"...Bevelmiter tubes, therefore, once properly set in motion by an accomplished mage, will begine to effuse most efficaciously as theye drawe moste rightly from the quintessence of the universe. This power is limitless in scope, suffusing all things, an ambiente field of immeasurable power and grace. Anciente peoples named thisse powere Gamigin, calling upon yt bye name in times of yore. I wondere whether the gryphon doth call upon these spirits, or daemons, still as they worketh their own magicks. They be without ayn Celestiae..."

Chip looked up and blinked. "These things will never run out?" he asked himself, idly hoofing the device he had created a few weeks ago to and fro on his desk. He stared at it as sparks emanated from the central, floating sky-metal piece. "I wonder how big one like this can be?" As he studied the book further, it became clear that Bevelmiter tubes operated by normal creatures didn't get much larger than the one he had made. To go bigger, one had to use a standard-sized Bevelmiter tube to 'jump start' a larger Bevelmiter tube through what the book called sympathetic vibrations. Apparently Bevelmiter had never built one, nor had he worked out all of the details.

"So how large can those get?" Chip wondered aloud. Turning the page, he noticed it was blank. He flipped back and forth in confusion, then finally shut the book. Either the book didn't know, or it wasn't telling. Either way, he'd had enough of the creepy creation for one day. Blowing out the candle, Chip trotted over to his bed and clambered in under the covers. Giving the book one last glare in the darkness, he turned over and waited for sleep to claim him.

The year was almost up and school was almost out. It would be his first Hearth's Warming in his new home, with his new family and new friends. Wiping a treacherous tear from his eye, he curled up tighter into a ball. This Hearth's Warming would be special, he would make it special.

A single thought bounced through his brain as consciousness left him – what in Equestria would he get for Carmine?

♠♣♥♦

Chip's breath steamed in the chill air. This was it, the longest night before the shortest day of the year. Hearth's Warming Eve, Luna's domain. Landing below the griffon-family's eyrie had been touchy, especially with the load of gifts each of them carried – and Sharptooth had had to carry Chip as well.

Chip shook himself, his gleaming armour settling more comfortably. They'd dropped through a snow-laden thunderhead on the way, and ice had somehow formed inside his chest-plate. He'd wanted to come au naturelle, but his father had insisted on being formal. Even Sharptooth sported a suit of armour, though in deference to how breakable creatures less than half his size were, the more serious weaponry had been passed over for what he blushingly referred to as 'courtship armour'. Chip wasn't sure whether the fact it had seen obvious use was something he wanted to know about or not.

"So, you do this every year?" Chip asked the elder dragon, staring at the circular doorway before him as Sharptooth collected himself.

"I do. I find it the best way to cultivate trust between myself and the inhabitants of Tacksworn. I've been giving gifts to the children for a couple of centuries. To the griffons, and those who cohabit with them, this night. Tomorrow for the ponies and diamond dogs."

Chip looked up at his father, struck by the gulf between the lonesome wyrm and the ponies he lived with. He'd been playing host to all the denizens of Tacksworn for all their lives, and likely for most of the lives of their parents and grandparents. And he still got nervous when dressing up to hand out presents. Chip shook his head. "Ready, Dad?"

For a response, the dragon examined a large sack suspiciously. "I believe so. I may not have enough cuddly griffons and ponies to go around, the Digger's just had a new litter and the Skychasers adopted Ruff—"

"What?" Chip looked sharply up at Sharptooth.

"Ruff is... considered a runt. Unfortunately, he was born into a conservative diamond dog family. Fortunately, that diamond dog family lives in Tacksworn."

"You mean..."

"Indeed. He would have been left for dead if the Skychasers hadn't taken him in. They're an older couple who never had foals of their own."

"But that's horrible!" Chip stated, then furrowed his brow in thought, "not that he got... adopted but... you know what I mean."

"It is distasteful, yes, but it is their way. And it is the ponies' way to make things right. It is what I do."

"You make sure foals get adopted?"

Sharptooth gave Chip a withering glare as Hairpin stifled a giggle. "I fix problems between all the races that inhabit Equestria. Further from home, the scale changes. Close to home, those under my direct protection require a more personal touch."

"That's why Celestia gave me to you, isn't it? She knew you'd know where to keep me safe?"

"Aye, lad, though I doubt she could have predicted you would become my son."

Chip straightened himself up. "I'm... glad, you know?" Chip's voice was hesitant, and soft.

Hairpin was quick to trot up beside him and nuzzle the boy's ear. "That's how it starts." Trotting past the two boys and knocking on the door, she looked over her shoulder. "Come on, let's go in. They're waiting. You know how foals are, whatever the species."

Stepping across the threshold was like leaving winter behind. A roaring fire – of real wood and coal – flared brightly behind plate glass doors. The rocks lining the massive fireplace were giving off waves of heat, and the great living-space of the extended Wildfeather clan was chock full of griffons and more than a few ponies and diamond dogs. Hairpin gravitated to the fireplace, nodding politely to the hosts of the gathering, mister and misses Wildfeather. Carmine was stood next to them, feathers neatly preened and fur brushed until it shone. She was decked out in bows of what appeared to be black silk, with painted tribal-patterned tattoos of blue and gold.

Chip stood motionless as he took her in, mouth hanging open, just long enough for Penny to whisper "That's how it starts, you know!" to Bethany. He turned and scowled at the pair, who were doing all in their power to not double over with laughter. Sharptooth chuckled as he surreptitiously nudged Chip with his tail. The young dragon, feeling the full impact of his station, stammered out the ritual greeting. "E-elder Wildfeather, Lady Wildfeather, may I present myself, Chiphoof Irontail Leatherback, Lord pro-tem of the Sapphire Reaches?"

"Well met, young lordling," Carmine's father replied, inclining his head, eyes unblinking as they inspected the newcomer.

"A-and my father, Lord Diamond, of the Diamond Expanse."

"Well met, my Lord Diamond, "Carmine's mother replied, the corners of her beak turning slightly up and her eyes twinkling. "And we now present our daughter to you both, Mistress Carmine Wildfeather, of the Wildfeather Clan, first offspring of the Elder of the Wildfeathers."

Chip's throat bobbed up and down as the ritualistic language clicked in his brain. Formal presentations, exchanging of gifts... this really was how it started. Nettled, he shook as he fished out the poorly-wrapped present for Carmine from his saddlebags. There was gaily-coloured paper tied up with string, but what was within was obviously heavy. Carmine bobbed her head in thanks and took the package. Looking up at her parents for reassurance, she savaged the wrappings until they fell off in pieces. Beneath them was a supple black oilcloth bundle cinched through the middle with a single silvery buckle. Peering at it in confusion, Carmine neatly undid it with her claws, and unrolled it. Blades gleamed in the firelight.

"W-what is it?" she asked, glancing from the metal and leather devices to Chip and back.

"Well, it's... uh... they're for you," Chip said, grinning.

"I know that, you dufus," quipped Carmine. She let out a high-pitched squeal as her mother nipped her tail-tuft. Ducking her head apologetically, glaring at the sniggers from Team Beth and Penny, Carmine separated out the objects before her. "I mean, what are they?"

Chip resisted the urge to say 'I thought you'd know' and instead trotted over and picked one up carefully in his muzzle. He placed it neatly down upon Carmine's front claw, teasing the straps until they were tight. A few seconds in, and his cheeks were burning at more sniggers from Beth, Penny and Bella. As he looked up to apologize, he met Carmine's gaze as she looked down at her present. A lump caught in his throat again. He coughed, trying to clear it. "They're, uh, hunting claws."

Sharptooth cleared his throat and interrupted smoothly. "They're actually warblades, Elder Wildfeather, diamantium tipped. They are made for hunting your enemies, and precisely machined for dispatching them."

Elder Wildfeather rumbled in pleasure, a throaty warble that reverberated through the fetishes and jewelry he wore. "Your gifts do our clan honour, young lordling. I am pleased."

Chip bobbed his head in thanks. "I, er, didn't have quite enough allowance to buy you the full armour set this time..." he whispered.

Carmine chirped happily and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I'll take good care of them."

Squealing in happiness, Penny jumped up and down, clopping her hooves together. She rushed forwards and embraced Chip and Carmine. Bethany and Bella were quick to follow her.

"Be off with you now, lad. Give your gifts and have fun. It's what tonight's for," Sharptooth ordered, laughing heartily. Ducking down, the dragon dragged out a heavy bag full of toys and opened it experimentally. "My, my, my... it seems somebody has left a whole sackful of gifts outside the door. Whatever am I going to do with them? If only there were good little children I could give them to for a good home..."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth, than he was swamped with foals, pups and chicks all begging to take care of the toys. Whilst the parents looked on indulgently, Sharptooth bartered with the little ones for promises of going to bed when asked to, and of brushing teeth and beaks properly. There were cries of joy all around as he started furnishing the children with toys which he could barely pull out of the bag fast enough.

"There's a lot you don't know about him, hmm?" asked Hairpin.

"Yeah. I got the picture he was some lonely dragon, you know? They're supposed to live alone, at the top of some mountain—"

"I think he does, but every once in a while he's got to let a little pony out, you know? I guess they've rubbed off on him." Hairpin smiled and fluttered her wings.

"They?" Chip raised an eyebrow.

"You know what I mean, Master. After all, I've spent all my life with dragons. Sometimes I forget. It's not like I grew up like most of you and your friends. Come on though, it's time for gifts." Hairpin took out gift after gift from her saddlebags, placing them on the floor before her. "Chip told me what you would each want, and I went to Neighvada if I had to, to get it. So it's from all of us, to each of you."

Bella levitated her package, ripping the paper off to reveal a book. "Souper naturals?" she asked, her mouth forming a perfect 'O'.

"Yeah, you... you said you liked the one in the library, so..." Chip cleared his throat.

"Wait, is this an original print?"

"I dunno... 'Pin couldn't find it and I know you wanted it, and Sharptooth had an extra copy in his library he said he didn't mind..."

"A signed original copy?" squeaked Bella.

"Maybe?" Chip's ears splayed out.

"Celestia's teeth! I didn't get you anything like this!"

"That's okay, I... I don't mind what you got me. If you got me anything. I'm just glad that you're there for me. My... herd, you know? Dad's big on the whole dragon thing, but... I-I'm glad you're my friends."

Bella galloped over and hugged him whilst Penny pulled out her signed replica wonderbolts costume and squealed with delight and Ruff opened up an entire year's worth of Daring Do Adventures comics, with a paid year's subscription for the next one. Bethany pulled out a similarly-wrapped present to Carmine's. Unwrapping it, Beth revealed several sets of slender, blade-like edges.

"What are these? Wait, are these..."

"They're wingblades, B," Chip replied, "not quite so... aggressive as warblades—"

"Are you saying I'm aggressive?" hissed Carmine.

"No!" squeaked Chip, "just... ah, um..."

Carmine rolled her eyes, folded her claws up carefully and gave Chip a light punch in the withers. "You gotta learn to relax, dragonboy. I know what you mean. I do the whole pouncing thing. B here does the playing with her food. Come on, I'll help you put 'em on."

"I didn't really know what to get you, but Dad said th-they were the right kinda thing, and I kn-know you've got a different dad now too, but I thought he'd still—"

Bethany stiffened, then turned to look at her step-father. He had a wing and tail entwined with her mother's. She turned back to Chip and blushed. "Thanks, Chip. I know I kinda gave you a hard time before, about the hat and all, but you were trying to help. Dad's a pegasus, but I'm still Bethany Lionstuft the griffon, you know? He gets me though, and... I think I get you. They're wonderful. Come on, let's... do you wanna meet my folks too?"

"I wanna meet all your folks! I'm living here, aren't I? Gotta meet them some time. You too, Ruff." Chip nudged the diamond dog pup with a hoof.

Ruff yelped like he'd been bitten. "Ruff not sure... umm..."

Chip raised an eyebrow, then he leaned in closer. "My dad's a dragon. I think ponies for parents are slightly more normal than that, right?"

Bethany murmured assent. Ruff's ears drooped. "You know, about..?"

"Ruff, I've known for ages you weren't getting on well at home, and then you started getting... happier," Beth said evenly. "I figured something had changed. Not hard to find out what. It's kinda what Tacksworn's about, you know? New starts? Different species, all coming together?" Bethany straightened up. "What? It's not... I'm not being corny! It's true!"

Penny hugged her friend. "It's okay to be a bit of a softy. Just because you've got a little pony in you too doesn't make you less of a griffon."

"Or less of a diamond dog," Hairpin added. "Come on guys and gals, let's mingle. Coming, Master?"

"Call me Chip for once!" wailed Chip.

"Yes, Master!"

The night outside was cold and unforgiving, but this night, inside, the atmosphere was warm and cheerful.

♠♣♥♦

Author's Note

You know how, at the start of a roller coaster, the cars tick along neatly and tidily, and they ever so slowly rise to the top of the impossibly steep cliff?

Welcome to that part of the ride.

Half past midnight, gonna regret this in the morning. #YOLO

Take Flight

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═══════════════════════════════════

Chapter 15
Take Flight
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

♠♣♥♦

Chip stood back to regard his handiwork. The workshop had been cleared, leaving a large open space in the middle. The floor was now thick with painted runes and sigils, painstakingly laid down in white paint by use of the brush held in his muzzle. His hooves echoed oddly in the now-empty space as he inspected the conjuring circle one final time. The centerpiece was two giant circles, one inside the other, with a stream of angular diagrams between them. Around and inside them were more sigils and runes.

"Dad," Chip swallowed slowly, voice soft with repressed emotion. "I... I think that's it."

Sharptooth snorted, opening one eye from where he'd been dozing against the wall. "Hmm? Let me see..." The dragon stood on all fours for a closer look. He hummed and hawed as he walked around, stepping carefully over the lines so as not to smudge them. "Nice work, very neat. Alabaster's Rune of Silent Motion, eh? Nice touch. Dawn Carver's Sigil of Animate Energies, good... and Comet Tail's Substitutiary Locomotion! Fantastic! My boy, this is perfect."

The elder dragon beamed, and Chip couldn't help but stand tall and proud, despite how weary he was. "Thanks, Dad. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Nonsense, lad. This is all you. These, however..." Sharptooth bent to pick up what at first glance looked like an old toolbox. Out of it, the dragon produced two pristine, well-machined elliptical constructions of brass, crystal and sky-metal. "These are from me, to you."

"Wow..." Chip reached out a hoof to lightly caress the nearest one. It was lifeless, little but a strangely shaped oval cylinder of glass with an odd piece of metal inside, set in brass filigree. The detail was painstaking, though, and the thought of how much work had gone into them was staggering. "Dad, these are... these are amazing! Are you sure they'll work?"

"The scrying you have done," Sharptooth said in a level tone, indicating the lines on the smooth rock surface made in the faintly-glowing pigment, "is the missing piece of Bevelmiter's work. The spell was devised a couple of centuries after his death. It amplifies and tunes magical artifacts through applied interaction of sympathetic vibrations."

"You mean like those from the tube we made last year." Chip nodded absentmindedly. He.stared long and hard at the lines. Runes were tricky, they were magic made manifest, and looking at them caused his eyes to itch. Trying to look at them directly was difficult, his vision wanted to slide away, to stare at anything else.

"Indeed. With it, you can breathe life into these two new constructs." Sharptooth paused, suddenly apprehensive. "Are you ready to try?"

Chip turned his head suddenly, eyes wide. "What? Right now?"

"You thought I had you lay these down for fun?" Sharptooth smiled, all teeth. "The flight-saddle itself is not quite ready yet – the armature is incomplete, the webbing is entirely absent and the control crystals need tuning, but it is otherwise assembled. Wait here a moment." Sharptooth trundled out of the cave, returning a few minutes later with a leather, brass and cloth object, somewhat reminiscent of a set of saddlebags crossed with an orrery that had mated with a standard pack saddle. It wasn't clear which had won, but the fight had been savage. The device held a latent aura of barely-suppressed power, almost as if it were alive. Chip was still standing there with his muzzle open as the dragon smoothly slid the twin Bevelmiter tubes into position.

"Come, lad. This will need to be adjusted properly later, but for now, it is time for the first fitting." Sharptooth busied himself attaching all the straps and cinches to Chip as the apprehensive youngster maneuvered himself into position. The saddle rode high on his withers, and was pulled tight around the barrel of his chest so it didn't slip. Cautiously, the dragon ran a claw around the inside of the girth-strap, before pulling on the billets and cinching it tighter. "Don't breathe in, lad, this needs to be tight or you will fall out of it!"

Chip grinned apologetically and stopped holding his breath. "Sorry, Dad."

With a final few tugs and an appraising glance around, Sharptooth stood back. "That's it. We're good. How does it feel?"

The strangely-designed pack-saddle was a foreign weight on his back, heavier and more substantial than a normal saddle. Long, thin metallic arms draped to the floor on each side listlessly, whilst the two Bevelmiter tubes stood almost upright on either side like comically overgrown shoulder-blades. Central to it all, a single piece of crystal shone dimly in the light, rising up out of a complicated set of runed gears and cogs. Attached to the 'arms' were metal wires, like thin ribs. They would, when complete, hold the wing-fabric in place. Right now, they looked like absurdly long skeletal fingers from some strangely deformed claw.

"Feels okay. Looks weird." Chip twisted his body to and fro to get a better look. The 'arms' – clearly they were the wings – dragged low in the dust forlornly. "It wants to go, doesn't it?" Chip asked softly.

Sharptooth nodded. "You feel it too? Bevelmiter was the same. He would always talk about the heart of whatever he was making. You put a little piece of yourself into whatever you touch. These wings will be no exception."

"You sure they'll work? I mean... the last time I tried this, there was a whole lot more to them." Chip twitched one shoulder blade after another, attempting to get the wings to flap. They dragged.

"Your last valiant effort was a triumph, my boy, but they were entirely mechanical. These are arcane." The dragon busied himself once more attaching the post-pegasus's neck-satchel to Chip, which he then carefully lowered Chip's original Bevelmiter tube into. "Remember what I told you?"

"Face North, place my hooves on the runes of centering, purpose, grounding and motion. Then open the way." Chip blew a lock of his mane out of his eyes and took a nonchalant step forwards, but a claw grabbed him roughly by the ear.

"Chip, this is serious. Everything here has a purpose. You must understand that. Step wrong, and forces you are not prepared to counter will teach you the meaning of folly."

Chip hissed in pain, lashing his tail, and he tore his head away. "Dad! I thought..." Chip grit his teeth. "I thought you were cool with this! Don't you want me to do this?"

"Do not take it lightly." The dragon's expression was unreadable, but his body language was clear. Don't go, it's not safe.

"Dad, I... I want this, more than anything." Chip took another step forwards, hoof-step echoing clearly through the chamber. "I'm not a hatchling," he said, to the far wall of the room, "I'm a dragon. Learning to fly is important for a dragon, you keep telling me that." He kept moving forwards, afraid that if he stopped, he'd not take another step. And he didn't want his father to see his legs shaking.

"We don't need to do this right now though," whispered Sharptooth.

"You let me go charging out the front door of your house, and I fell off a thousand-foot cliff. You've taught me to fly by dropping me from the sky." Chip was still staring resolutely at the wall as he took careful steps forwards, minding not to scuff or mark the runes. As he passed over them, they started glowing brightly. "You make me spend hours drawing and re-drawing these things... and now you change your mind?"

"That's different," replied Sharptooth. "Then, I could catch you. I've not changed my mind, I just..."

Chip gulped, and nodded. "I know." He stepped forwards, and planted his hooves. In the pouch, his first Bevelmiter tube started to glow brightly. It hummed as it increased in speed, emitting a sweetly musical, audible tone which rose in pitch as more power started to pour out of it.

"Good luck, son," said Sharptooth, circling around the pony-shaped dragon before him.

The room had been relatively well-lit before, but now the miniature cavern became harshly illuminated by a bright, unearthly blue light. Lightning crackled and fizzed, jumping from sigil to sigil, as barely-constrained forces were set in motion. The air tasted of copper and tin, it was thick and oily, and cloying. Chip closed his eyes, focusing on the mantra his father had given him. The runes would do all the work, but only if he could withstand the energies necessary. His greatest enemy was fear, his greatest mistake would be hubris. He would succumb to neither.

His heart sped up as the engine by his side thrummed with power, central core spinning so fast and burning so brightly it could not be seen, even if it could have been looked at with the naked eye. Across the device on his back, sister runes to the ones on the floor lit up. Chip grit his teeth as the magic swept over him in an inexorable tide, pulling at his mane and digging at his flesh. Blue flames burst from the arcane writing; he felt them crawling up his legs, burning with a cold heat that stung like bitter winter's coldest chill. Just when he thought he could take no more, the twin arcane engines on his back twitched. The musical hum of his original device was joined by two more. Like a beating heart, they pulsated with energy, crackling into life. Shadows danced on the walls in a mad riot of shapes that only became more convoluted as the wings on Chip's flying harness came alive.

They twitched. It felt like an itch he couldn't scratch, but it grew up and out of his body to encompass the entirety of the saddle and the long wings. He nickered in true pain now, an ache like the worst of muscle spasms, yet he dared not lift a hoof. He did, however, twitch his shoulder blades. He rotated his bones in their sockets in an attempt to deal with the agonizing annoyance, but it didn't help. All around him, the fire was growing brighter, becoming almost blinding even through his clamped-shut eyelids. The itching turned to burning, to a pure ache, and finally to cramp. Bellowing a roar of annoyance he stretched. All at once, the light flickered and died. Breathing heavily, Chip opened his eyes. The floor smoldered, but even as he watched, the last of the black, sooty residue that was left was dissipating. The runes under his hooves had vanished too. Experimentally, cautiously, he lifted each hoof in turn – the two at the front, the two at the back, and the two in the— Chip stopped. He turned his head to one side. He had six limbs. He twitched the new pair of legs again, and felt them unfold and twist in completely, horrifyingly different ways to his legs. This was, primarily, because they weren't legs. They were wings. He stretched them again, and they unfolded. Concentrating, he flipped the armature down until they fit snug against his flanks.

"Dad," Chip said, laughing with joy, "Dad! They work!"

Sharptooth, in an entirely un-draconic show of affection, slithered across the floor and pulled the youngster into a tightly coiled embrace.

♠♣♥♦

The moon perched itself behind thick clouds. They obscured the sky, plunging Stalliongrad into pitch blackness lit only by flickering oil streetlamps and curtained windows. From above the darkened streets, slitted pupils surveyed the tall, stone, mountain-like mass that was Pig Iron's Place. The eyes they belonged to narrowed, and their owner snorted in derision. He turned away in disgust. "Mistress says we may not trespass, brother, but it taunts me so." Breath crystallised in the air, scintillating motes that danced in the faint breeze and shone in the faint torchlight. It was cold, very cold, despite the clouds. Snow lay all around, blanketing everything. It was only due to the infernal white shroud that normal ponies could see anything at all. for the two thestrals, however, it may as well have been daylight.

"Calm thyself, Myristica," said the other. "The scryers will have the truth of things soon enough."

"Come on Cerasus! How can you lay there and... and... and stuff your face?!" Myristica kicked the bowl of food his herd-mate was eating out of away. It clattered into the darkness, landing in the street below. Slitted eyes flashed in anger.

"I had not finished, Nutmeg. Fetch me another."

"Fetch it yourself, Cherry."

"Fetch me," Cerasus got to his hooves, bat-like wings flaring, "another."

"Make me, you—"

The air behind the pair grew colder and more still. It was the silence that drew them to turn, and moments later both were digging their muzzles into the ground to avoid looking up at her.

"Prithee tell me, mine faithful servants," Luna began, as she alighted on the rooftop with the faintest of clacks from her hooves as they sank into the snow to impact with the roof tiles, "be it thine true nature to squabble like infants? If the weight of thy years be too heavy, I may lighten your burdens. Faith my heart would be all a'flutter at more carefree foals playing amongst the gardens of my lunar orphanage, but then needs must I find myself two new faithful aides to fulfill my most important of tasks." Luna paused for effect, before fixing each with an intense glare. "Well?"

"Sorry your highness," mumbled Myristica.

"Sorry, we were... we're just... sorry."

"Report then, my fine lunar stallions." Luna's eyes twinkled, and she smiled. Thestrals were easy to tease; their loyalty was unimpeachable, to be reprimanded by their Mistress was punishment enough. None but the most dedicated of guard ponies would submit to becoming one of the bat-winged, sharp-toothed creatures of the night. She could see into their hearts, and these two had more than enough love and caring for each other let alone the rest of their herd. They were precocious, but slacking was not in their vocabulary. Sometimes, she wondered if that were literally true.

"We failed to obtain your staff from the train, Mistress." Myristica bobbed his head, hunching his shoulders up in shame.

"But we tracked it to Stalliongrad. It lies within yonder fortress, your highness," added Cerasus, pointing with a hoof, not looking up.

Luna's nostrils flared as she regarded the bar. "Dragons. I know their kind well. A thousand years ago, another life, and I had whole flights at my command. With naught but a whisper, I could yet have them descend upon this play-fort and level it, but the ruin it would bring my little ponies is too great for such a bauble."

"M-maybe w-we, I mean, you, should a-ask Celestia?" Cerasus asked, his voice drawing to a squeak as Luna levelled her gaze at him.

"The day I have to inform my sister anything is the day she is not fit to rule her half of Equestria. Come, my stallions, this is but a distraction for the foalish. Much as a conjurer gesticulates with a hoof to draw the gaze, this tower of stone is set down to flummox and obstruct. I will have my prize, but it shall not come from here."

"Your will."

"Our command."

"We shall return home, my faithful adjutants. Winter is upon the world; and all things sleep in winter, even those that would make merry mischief."

A lonely street sweeper spied the wooden bowl, lying innocently in the street. Miraculously it had landed bottom-side up and was still half-full. With good fortune smiling on him, the earth pony ate heartily, picked up the bowl in his teeth and vanished into the night. Far above, three shadows melted away into thin air, leaving nothing but hoofprints. As snow began to fall, even these too were swallowed up.

♠♣♥♦

Chip yawned mightily. He wasn't sure what had woken him up, but his body was telling him there was no getting back to sleep now. He lay ensconced in his nest, wishing once again that he'd been allowed to hibernate through the dark desert winter. Sticking his nose out from under the covers, he tasted the air. Sniffing twice in quick succession, he wrinkled his brow in a frown before poking his head out fully. He sniffed again. Perking an ear up, he could hear a faint drip, drip, drip.

It was water, liquid water, as opposed to solid ice. Liquid water meant it was above freezing. Being above freezing meant...

"Spring is here?" Chip mumbled blearily. Easing himself out from under the covers, wincing at the room still being cold, he trotted to the window. Pulling back the long, wide curtains with his teeth, he let in blaring sunlight. Hissing and blinking tears from his eyes, Chip's vision slowly adjusted until he could see out. Pegasi were indeed flitting to and fro, clearing up the gloomy skies to let the sunshine in. Far, far below in Tacksworn, Chip could just about make out that the diamond dogs were out in force, along with ponies, shovelling snow. The griffons were helping, but mostly seemed to be engaged in harrying each other and the pegasi about.

"Huh, would you look at that. Spring really is here, and they're doing it the old fashioned way. Wonder why nopony's come to—"

Chip paused as the doorbell rang. He facehoofed. "Typical . Nice one, Chip. You had to tempt fate," he muttered to himself.

The doorbell rang again. This meant Sharptooth was already up, and was either out and about town, or deep inside the mountain and entirely unable to hear. That meant it was probably up to Chip to be hospitable. And on the weekend, too! He sighed and trotted to the bedroom door. "Coming! Coming!" he called, poking his head through the doorway. As he sped down the stairs, he saw Hairpin getting up from her seat at the table."Good morning, Master. I was just having some breakfast, want some?"

Chip felt ruffled. "You don't have to answer the door, you know, not with..." Chip waved a hoof vaguely at her now slightly rotund belly.

"Does my master wish me chained to the bed, too?" Hairpin asked, fluttering her eyelashes. She grinned as Chip blushed, before pulling the door open. A bunch of newspapers and a flyer for The Neighvada Royal Airshow fluttered around the room as a gust of wind blew in.

"Ah, let me get that for you, dearie," said a prim-sounding unicorn mare. She was a silvery-white, with a red apothecary's bowl on her blank and a black mane and tail. She stomped lightly on the errant mail and picked them up in her muzzle.

Hairpin brightened. "Nurse Tyndaller! My master and I were just discussing you." The pegasus grinned over at Chip, who stood aside for the nurse to enter.

Tyndaller trotted in and deposited the newspaper, letters and flyer on the table, laughing merrily. "Whilst your unique familial situation took some getting used to, the old 'pregnant mares should be confined to bed' mindset is instantly recognizable. I can assure you, youngster, Hairpin here is in fine fettle." The white unicorn trit-trotted in briskly, shaking wet snow off her hooves as she did so.

"That's not what I meant!" complained Chip, blushing hotly. "I just... don't want her to... hurt herself or anything."

"I'm not made of snowflakes, Master, we've had this conversation." Hairpin nuzzled Chip on the forehead. "Now, please let Tinny here do her thing, okay?"

Chip splayed his ears out, and blushed more as she kissed him on the poll. He blushed even harder when Carmine trudged in.

"Hey, butthead. Gonna swoop down and help with Winter Wrap-Up? Beth's down at the library with Thorn and the rest of the guys. It's kind've expected you'll help with the cleanup."

Chip looked from Carmine to Hairpin. The latter shooed him out with a hoof. Resignedly, he turned to the griffon. "Looks like I'm not wanted around here, and I do wanna do my bit for Tacksworn. Not sure how I'm gonna get down though."

"Dasher and Warp won't mind running you into town," Tyndaller called, looking up from where Hairpin was sprawled on cushions. Her horn was glowing softly, and she lifted a stethoscope from her ears with her magic. "Just ask them nicely and don't be too long, or find your own way back, either's fine."

"That won't be necessary, Madame," called a deep voice. Chip spun in a whirl of hooves as he heard the distinctive sound of claws on rock. From the corridor leading down into the workshop, came Sharptooth, holding a bundle of leather, metal, crystals and glass. "I do believe this is ready for a full test-drive."

Carmine's crest lifted on her head as she stared at the contraption in the dragon's claws. "Is that... it?"

"My flight harness?" Chip asked. "Yeah, it... it is. Dad's been working on it since Hearth's Warming."

"With your help, lad," protested Sharptooth. "I merely added a dash of my own flair and expertise. Today, it is ready." The dragon grinned ruefully, massaging his long, sinuous neck with a foreclaw. "Truth be told, I've been up all night putting the finishing touches to it. It still needs tweaking, but more than that, it needs a test-run."

Chip winced. "You were up all night?"

Sharptooth waved a claw as he placed the saddle-like pack on Chip's withers. "Not a problem. I enjoyed the challenge. Besides, I get tomorrow to sleep in. If this works, you're the one fetching tomorrow's groceries."

"Aww! No fair!" Chip whined.

"You mean you don't want a morning free of your old father, with money in your bit-pouch and wings on your back? Oh, well then, I'm sure—"

"Wait, wait, you mean I get to—"

"Goof off in town." Carmine grinned smugly.

"As long as you're back for dinner," Sharptooth said, nodding. "A late dinner," he added, seeing Chip's distressed look. The dragon then rolled his eyes at the continued mournful expression from his son. "If necessary, I can whip up something for Hairpin and myself and you can drag yourself in for supper, but we really will be needing supplies. Today though, first day of spring, would be a perfect time for your first official flight." The dragon had been cinching straps tight and adjusting fittings as he spoke. He then stood back and admired his handiwork. "How does it feel?"

Chip rolled his shoulders experimentally. "You were right about needing to save weight. The new fabric is much lighter. Pity you couldn't do that arcane webbing."

"I could, but I'm not sure of your ability to sustain it under duress."

Chip snorted as he nodded to Carmine, and trotted out the front door into blindingly-bright sunlight and chill winds. "It's not like I'm going to be involved in aerial dogfighting."

"I rather meant storms, though tussles with your pack can't be ruled out. You really need to do something about them, the spring weather will make them... friskier than normal. They need a hobby. They need approval from their owner."

"I've already ordered them to act for the good of Tacksworn, and to leave me out of their lives. They won't let me—"

"Calm yourself lad. We will find a way. For now, though, I think it is time." The dragon nodded politely to the two pegasi who had transported Nurse Tyndaller up to the cave. They nickered in trepidation and eyed each other, but nodded back. "I shall escort my son to Tacksworn, and then return. You are free to make yourselves refreshments, but do check with Hairpin first. Us dragons have somewhat unique diets."

"Th-thank you, sir," replied one, "it is a bit cold out here. A cup of coffee wouldn't go amiss."

"I believe I have coffee," mused Sharptooth, "though I mostly drink tea."

"Tea's good!" squeaked the other. "Come on, Dasher." Warp lived up to his name, as he shot passed the dragon and inside the dwelling.

Dasher sighed and shook his head. "Sorry about him sir, he's new."

Sharptooth grinned, showing teeth. "Quite alright."

Dasher gulped, and trotted past inside.

Chip tried hard to stifle a giggle. "You like doing that, don't you?"

"Who, me?" Sharptooth asked innocently, making a few minor adjustments.

"I've seen how dragons fight," said Carmine, stretching one wing after another. "I'm not surprised he's nervous. I wouldn't want an angry dragon on my tail."

"Yes, well. Let's hope we don't have any reasons for anger in the near future. Fire it up, Chip."

Carmine studied the strange device carefully. "How does it work?"

Chip grinned as the two Bevelmiter tube cores started to spin with increased vigor. "Like this."

Slowly, the great webbed wings unfolded, pointing skywards before sweeping back and down experimentally. The gust of wind they generated sent sprays of water hurtling against the stone walls of the mountain behind them.

"Chip, that is pretty cool, dragon-boy."

Chip flexed his new appendages as well as his muscles, showing off. He heard the gears and cogs whirr as they unfolded. He could really feel them, though they were ghostly and indistinct. The tubes were like muscles, or lungs, pumping away. The energy from them flowed through him, eager to be released. He spread his wings wide and flapped them, peering over the edge. "So, er, how's this work?"

Sharptooth sidled up behind him. "Well, we could spend a few minutes discussing theory, but—"

Chip whipped his head around as claws fastened on the straps, but it was too late. "Don't you—" he began, but got cut off as the elder dragon bodily lifted him into the air and threw him like a model glider into the aether. "—Daaarrrreeeee!"

Carmine watched as the screaming, arcano-winged creature receded into the distance. "Just like my first time. Dad always was a stickler for the traditional methods."

"Did he have to go catch you, too?" Sharptooth asked, bunching his muscles as his eyes followed the disappearing speck.

"No," replied Carmine, as the dragon heaved himself into the air. "But then," she said to herself, a sly smile playing across her beak, "I was kind of born with wings."

Chip was screaming. He'd been doing that for a while and it hadn't helped. In an effort to stop the scenery careening past him, he kicked up his forehooves and spread his wings. Almost immediately, they caught the air and lifted him up. The world fell away beneath him as he climbed, shedding speed like a diamond dog sheds fur on a couch. At the top of the curve, he stopped, hanging in space for a brief few moments.

Beneath him, Equestria lay spread out like a patchwork quilt, sun scintillating off piles of snow as colourful creatures frolicked and toiled amongst it all. It seemed so far away, another world, another realm. The words of Calligraphy Quill came back to him, in her discussion of the three ancient realms. There were the great waters, the land, and the sky. For all his life, even during flight practice with Sharptooth, he had been a denizen of the ground. Now, though... Chip spread his wings wider, revelling in the feel of the thermals all around him. Now he was one with the air.

He tilted one wing, dipped the other, circled, and plummeted downwards. Jubilantly he let loose a roar of triumph. It belted across the heavens, echoed by an answering bellow from another dragon, and a raucous screech from a griffon. Unfolding his forelegs forwards, kicking his hind legs backwards, he galloped through the air, wings beating in long, slow strokes against the frigid air. Twisting them, angling to catch an updraft, he soared between the two other flyers and banked in a lazy circle, spinning past them.

"I see the hatchling's found his wings then!" cried Carmine, beating her own wings and hovering, turning on the spot to follow Chip. For an answer, Chip tried to screech like a griffon. It didn't work, and he ended up coughing. Wobbling, his clean arc faltered and he fell a good few tens of feet, struggling to regain altitude.

"Careful, my boy. Let's get you down whilst you can still move. You'll be using muscles you didn't know you had, and cramp could be inconvenient. Not fatal, I'm sure I could catch you, but it would spoil your grand entrance some."

"Aww dad!" whined Chip, somersaulting in mid-air, "I feel fine!"

"That's what they all say. Down. Now."

Grumbling, Chip swept back his wings and dove groundwards.

Greater Tacksworn rolled beneath his hooves, the beats of his wings irregular now as sweat beaded his brow. The moisture was wicked from his muzzle by the wind, tears flowing in a veritable stream from his eyes. He mentally made a note to get goggles. On his back, he could feel his new arcane muscles faltering. Ten feet before his intended target, and twenty feet too high, his wings cramped, locked up of their own accord and then folded. Fortunately, he stalled. Unfortunately, it hadn't been quite at ground level. He fell, flipped, spun, and slammed into a windswept snowbank on his side.

Through the stars and wheezing, and the pain of what he hoped wasn't a cracked rib, he heard wheezing, choked laughter. Dimly, he realized it was his own, sputtering in gasps as he fought against being winded. Two large, indistinct shapes came in for their own hard landings before rushing up to him and crouching over to investigate.

"Do you think he broke something?" asked Carmine, her voice echoing, strangely fuzzy, "like his head?"

"Dragons are hardy. Even pony-shaped ones. Up you get, Chip lad, I've a need to return home to see to your pet and our lunch."

Claws grabbed him, not unkindly, and dragged him to his hooves, dusting him off. Chip wobbled slightly, blinking until the double-vision faded.

"In one piece?" asked Sharptooth.

"I think so." Chip sat down hard on his rump, sucking in long breaths of air. His ribs and muzzle hurt and he'd bit his tongue, but nothing seemed to be broken. Tentatively flexing his wings, they were undamaged too. It wasn't that he could feel them like he could feel his legs and hooves, but they did have a ghostly presence. He furled them closed again. "One question, though."

"Shoot."

Chip turned to look at the mountain in the distance, impossibly high up in the azure expanse of the sky. "How do I take off again?"

♠♣♥♦

The library stood tall and proud in the center of Tacksworn. Chip swished his tail, bolas clattering loudly against each other, as he entered. He kicked the snow from his hooves and shook his mane out. A stove had been brought in, placed carefully upon a stone plinth, and hooked up to a chimney which sprouted from the back and extended up through the roof. In front of it lay Beth, with Beryl's son Thorn idly running his great paws through her head-feathers. She blushed as Carmine walked in, but the latter stalked past Chip and flicked his muzzle with her tail playfully, telling him to keep it closed.

"Don't you dare pretend you don't have a thing for Thorn, B."

"A thing?" Thorn asked, making a face. "I am not a thing."

"What you are is her Rabbit Surprise," Carmine snarked.

Thorn flexed his considerable biceps, "So you just love me for my body?"

"Damn straight," replied Beth.

"Boys," sighed Bella, "can't live with 'em. Dunno what I'd look at without them."

"What is Ruff then? Chopped liver?" protested the younger diamond dog. He was sitting on Penny's haunches as she lay near the stove on the opposite site of the plinth. Ruff's nose only just cleared the top of a heavy-looking book.

"Ruff is the baby brother I never had. Or wanted."

Ruff pouted, but brightened as he was lifted by the scruff of his neck off Penny's back and placed carefully on the floor. She snuffled his head-fur and gave him a push towards Chip.

"Go show Chip what you've found."

"That the diamond dog history book? You can read more of iit?" Chip pointed with a hoof.

"Ruff has been comparing comics, staff and book. No laughing! Comics are..." Ruff twiddled a claw in his ear thoughtfully before pulling it out and flicking a glob of yellowy wax into the fire. "Comics do have ancient Trollish. Comics have translations too!"

"Wait, what?" Chip said, tilting his head in surprise. "They really are accurate? It's not a one-issue thing?"

Ruff yanked on Chip's flight-saddle by a wing, dragging him down to a large, comfortable cushion the troll had been spread-eagled upon. Returning to his comfortable reading position, Ruff opened the book out, and pointed to a comic laying open next to it. "See?"

"It's true," Beth said, turning her head around and fixating Chip with a direct gaze. It lingered for a moment, then it swept to the pack-saddle on his back. Her eyes widened in shock. Beth squawked softly as she took a closer look. "Wait, are those runes?"

"What, the wings? Uh huh." Chip craned his head to look at his pack-saddle, then back to Beth. Her beak had fallen open in shock.

"Who taught you about griffon runes?"

Chip fluttered his arcano-mechanical wings and blinked. "They're griffon?"

"Some of them are. My dad, my hatch-dad, he used to study them. He wasn't a tribe elder, but he was a shaman. I know a thing or two about griffon runes from him, and those are griffon." Beth ran a claw carefully through the fine engraving, a confused and slightly concerned look on her beak.

Chip opened and closed his mouth, thinking of the pony-book and the trouble it promised. "It's a long story, apparently."

Beth stood back and appreciated the construction, shaking her head, her crest bobbing up and down as she examined it. "I've not seen runes like these for... well, ever. There's not much call for griffon shamans when unicorns have it covered with a wave of their horn. Runes are for more permanent work."

"Like these."

"You and I are going to have a talk about those griffon runes, Chip, but you should listen to what Ruff has to say first." Reluctantly, Beth took her claws off the device, and turned to Ruff, beaked muzzle expressionless.

Chip nodded, mouth dry. "Anything I can tell you, B, I will." Chip then turned back to Ruff. "Go on, then, what's it about?"

"This is history... of old world, before High King – book calls him a Khan like Neighvada trolls do – and how they, we... came here. See?" Ruff rattled off a sequence of growls, barks and yaps, his paw tracing the strangely angular lettering. "It says," he said, clearing his throat as he began to recite, "that it started when sky burned."

♠♣♥♦

Third moon after summer solstice.

skies burn cold fire. Blind Farak, demon god of lost souls, has stolen Ik'Mara's eye. Day-star Mara weeps blood. Night-moon Ik burns brightly. Pack weeps in fear. Akash the Dreamer demands we leave. I, Khan Tikaari of Shattered Hills pack, have agreed. We move according to Dream. Akash speaks of Old Caves. Ground moves, mountain wakes.

I fear it too late.

There was much whimpering, wailing and gnashing of teeth as the tide of downtrodden trolls made their slow, despondent way across the plains. Great ruts had already been worn into the grasslands by the passage of a multitude of paws. The dirt trail led from the burning mountain peak off into the Wild Woods and beyond, and everybody on it was going in one direction. Away.

The pack was afraid of the mountain now, and they had good reason to be. They'd lived in it's shadow for centuries without a second thought, the fertile gameland producing what fruits and vegetables were needed as well as supporting a good population of wild animals. What stood for peace amongst the boisterous diamond dog clans of the Lower Caldera had been good. But then it had all changed.

The trouble had started innocently enough a few weeks ago, with some small earthquakes and scattered wildfires... but then the sky had burned with a cold fire and the sun had grown wan and capricious. Wild animals had come charging down from their haunts and territories, terrified enough to overcome their natural fear of the diamond dogs. They'd passed through the heart of the pack's land, bringing devastation in their wake. Herds of Grizfarns and Fangtails had destroyed the pack's village and farmland in minutes.

The Shattered Hills pack – named after the peculiarly-shaped broken-peaked mountain range they lived next to – wasn't protected like the Stonewielders in their great castles. They only had a single Elder Stonetalker, no Elder Healer, and only one old Elder Dreamer. Their Khan, Tikaari, was old and grizzled. He was also wise, but such calamitous events had never been heard of in either living memory, and was only vaguely mentioned in the songs handed down from ages past. As a result, indecision had nearly spelled their doom.

Finally, when the land itself heaved and groaned as if some colossal demon stirred beneath, the Elders had agreed to leave. The pack nearly hadn't made it at all; the mountain had split and burst less than a day later, molten rock pelting the countryside and razing what buildings remained standing. The flames from the burning forests of the lowlands as well as the ruins of their homes could be seen for miles.

Akash the Dreamer grit his teeth in impotent rage. The fire-drazzigs that dwelled deep underground, furious at some unknown trespass, raged still. Maybe they were on their own exodus from fear of the blind god Farak. He didn't know. All he knew was that great suffering and pain had befallen his people, and he was powerless to stop it.

Great black belching plumes of smoke had descended down the side of the mountain earlier in the day, enveloping the few stragglers and looters that were still in the village proper. Still more had been picked off when the ground had split open, shattered beyond the ability of the apprentice Stonetalkers to hold it in check. He'd heard tales that the air near the village, even clear of the ash-cloud, hurt to breathe. Many had died, choking.When it became clear all was lost, the orderly retreat had turned to a full-fledged rout.

As the pack fled, they whispered amongst themselves; It had to be punishment from the Great Alpha of Alpha's, Polaris, for crimes they did not understand. Many were wailing apologies at the sky. Akash could only hope they would work.

The pack's drazzigs had fled with the wild animal stampede, the mindless six-legged beasts having wit enough to smell the end of the world and brute strength enough to escape it, long before the Pack Elders had gotten off their well-padded backsides. They'd broken from their corral as one mass, hissing and yawp-ing to each other in panic. The majority had fled before anyone could do anything.

Akash sighed, leaning on his staff. Their strength would have been invaluable to the pack's flight. As he soaked in the sight of the straggling refugees, running from a doomed homeland to an uncertain future, he couldn't help but weep. The premonitions had been right. His one consolation was that he knew how it would end. As a Dreamer, that was his one consolation, and his secret pain.

He straightened. Indecision had cost enough. Now all would pay for it. "Run!" he bellowed suddenly, throwing his great forepaws skywards, waving his Dreamer's Staff. "Run! The sky-gods and the earth-gods rage and fight! They are both consumed in fire, and you will be too!" His voice echoed across the warring plains, the rumbling and roaring geography seeking to drown him out. Akash leaned on his staff again, taking grim hold of it in both paws. Beneath his light brown fur, his knuckles were white.

There was always the chance his dream of almost total destruction and loss could be wrong. Then again, it could always be worse.

He watched as the Alphas hounded all they could, picking up the young that mattered and spurring on the rest. The females were quick on their paws, that was one mercy. The other mercy was the quick death offered by whatever angry gods tormented them.

A thousand heads passed him, two hundred more approached.

Not enough, he thought to himself. In every Dreaming, it was never enough.

With a final great lurch, and the brief screams of those too slow, the world ended. The caldera Akash's people had called home crumbled and fell into glowing magma. The quake that precipitated it threw him and everybody else to the four winds. Briefly, through the cloud-cover, the daystar glared balefully like an eye. The sun was sick, the sky was burning with the breath of the rainbow serpent, and the world was succumbing to fire.

Akash wept. He knew how it would end. He knew how he would end.

♠♣♥♦

Chip swallowed hard as Ruff stopped speaking. The diamond dog pup lifted his paw off the page almost reverently, looking around like he'd just woken up from a dream.

"Their world... that's horrible!" Penny said, covering her muzzle with a wing. "What happens next?"

"What happens next is the group of children stopped slacking off in the library during Winter Wrap-Up," chimed in a unicorn. She was bay-coloured, and wore spectacles. "Out you go! Out, out!"

Grumbling under their breaths, the group of youngsters got up from slouching around the fire and headed reluctantly out of the library.

"That's better," the mare said, "except you, pup. You can help me put those books you've strewn about back."

"Awww! But that's your job, you're the librarian!"

"That's as maybe, but—"

Chip and his friends filed out. The sun was high, the sky was clear and there was a warmth permeating the countryside which had been missing for a good few months. Chip shook himself out as if he'd been stacked in a dark, dingy corner. He yawned, bellowing as he cleared his lungs, his arcane wings spreading almost reflexively.

"Luna's teeth! I'm glad winter's over, I've been cooped up too long. I think I'd much rather clear up snow than a librar—" Chip stopped so suddenly, Carmine, who had been chatting to Beth and not really listening nor watching where she was going, rammed straight into him.

"Chip?" asked Carmine, spitting out tail-hairs, "What's wrong?"

"Stupid question for you." Chip whirled, "Who in the name of the first egg was that?!"

"The... librarian? She, uh, she..."

"Have you ever actually seen her before?"

"No, not actually in the library, but—"

"But nothing. Come on!" Chip leaped straight over Carmine, barrelled past Thorn and Penny, and charged straight back into the library. His friends weren't far behind him. As the door slammed open, it revealed a cowering Ruff, fending off a strange, pony-like creature with luminous blue eyes. Its hide was black and chitinous, like some sort of beetle, the horn on its head was jagged, its legs were strangely holed and it had gossamer-like wings that shone with a pearlescent beauty.

Its face, however, had nothing beautiful about it, especially the expression. The expression it wore was something between pure hatred and a gloating sort of malice as it imagined all the pain and agony it was about to inflict on the small morsel in front of it.

That was, of course, until Chip hurtled through the door, rattling his armor threateningly. He'd left the ripper ring at home, but he had been wearing the bolas and the flank-plate. Now he regretted the omission. "Get away from him!" Chip yelled, planting all four hooves in the well-waxed floor and snorting loudly. He pawed at the parquet, scraping up huge lumps before raising his front lip and exposing his teeth.

The changeling looked up, its moves catlike and quick. It hissed angrily and leaped straight up, sticking to the walls just below the window, wings buzzing angrily. "You think you can stop me taking this little morsel to my queen?" it said, laughing throatily as it skittered sideways. In a flash of light, it looked like Carmine. It jumped down, quick as an arrow. Another flash, and it looked like Penny. A third flash and it looked like Chip. "Stop me? You can't stop me. You can't even find me!" Suddenly, it leaped for the true Chip.

Chip danced and whirled, his doppelganger following his moves with expert grace. Every lunge of his teeth snapped on empty air, every swipe with his tail sailed through where the creature had been moments before.

Gathering itself, it leaped and side-swiped at Chip, grabbing onto him with teeth. The young dragon returned the favour, tumbling end over end as they tussled, both kicking hooves and slashing with tails and biting with teeth. His armour clashed and clanged in a terrible din as it impacted against tables, chairs and the stove. He spared a brief thought for his new wings, but could do nothing but hope they would survive intact. He was occupied enough as it was making sure he survived.

"Chip!" shouted Carmine, voice hoarse with worry. She bolted to where she'd stowed her belongings, ferreting about in her bag before withdrawing two metallic objects, which she fiddled with using her beak and claws. "Keep an eye on them! Don't let either of them escape!"

"Which one is the real Chip?!" screamed Penny, wings flaring as she ran side to side. To their credit, neither Chip bothered denouncing the other, but the fighting did not diminish.

"You let me worry about that," squawked Carmine. Finished with her quick dress-change, she padded up to the growling, neighing bundles of testosterone. The griffon bunched up her muscles, eyes flicking to and fro as she patiently waited for her prey to be in the right position. Suddenly, spreading of her wings, Carmine pounced. Screeching loudly and raucously, she splayed her fore-talons out and slammed heavily into one of the two Chips. Rolling over and over, she body-slammed the impaled Chip and then threw him into a bookcase. Green rivulets of blood ran in spattery streams to where the creature had fallen, it's disguise failing as soon as Carmine's talons had pierced its tough, leathery hide.

"You get the hell away from my boyfriend, you soft-shelled carrion-eater!" Carmine swore, flexing her metal-sheathed talons, flicking pieces of changeling-meat from their blades. "You think you can fool me? A Griffon?!"

The wounded changeling pulled itself to its chitinous hooves, glaring balefully. "Clever little huntress."

"Clever enough to mark my prey. Move, and I'll skewer you." Carmine levelled one, long warbladed-claw at the creature.

"Big words from a hatchling. You think you have me?" The changeling was hurt, but something in it's demeanour worried Carmine. She wasn't going to let it show, though.

"We outnumber you, bug, and bleeding like that? You'll last hours, tops."

"These wounds are a trifle. And numbers? You want numbers?" The changeling threw back it's head and warbled a long, mournful cry. A few tens of seconds later, and there were answering howls from outside. And they were getting louder.

"What is... what have you done?" Carmine's little tufted ears swept back and her head-crest rose. Her feathers fluffed out as she felt the vibrations. "Everybody scatter!"

Not a moment too soon, the group leaped for their lives. The floor caved in as a group of diamond dogs demolished the foundations of the library, and the whole building sagged and began to crumble.

"Get out of here! Get out!" shouted Chip. He turned, grabbed Ruff by the scruff of his neck and slammed through what remained of the walls as it shattered before him. Penny and Bella leaped through a hole made by Thorn, and Beth and Carmine followed. Some ways from the devastation, Chip dropped Ruff and turned. Out of the dust and debris, rose six shapes. One of them was black, with wings that seemed far too delicate to have survived. The rest were hulking trolls with burning blue eyes, their claws raking the air in anticipation. More were digging their way out from underground.

"You think you can take us, little hatchlings? We are the Hive, and we are legion. Minions, attack!" The changeling pointed a hoof, taking to the air. The diamond dogs fell to all fours and growled, snarling and moving slowly forwards, eager to do their master's bidding.

Cautiously circling, Beth and Carmine took to the skies. Penny fled to the safety of an adjacent building. Thorn and Chip exchanged glances and nods, and lined up in front of Ruff as Bella flanked him.

"You get away from my town," Chip snarled, pawing at the ground. "Go back to whatever corner of Tartarus you came from, back under whatever rock you call home, and I'll let you live."

"I've squashed bigger bugs than you," Thorn growled. "I can handle whatever those are, and barely break a sweat."

Ruff wrinkled his nose. "Ruff think those... those not bugs. They not diamond dogs, neither, but they not bugs." He clutched the book tightly in his paws, knuckles white under his fur.

"Oh these are diamond dogs, little morsel. Or they were, only they've been feeding me instead of their alpha. They're my thralls, now. I will take them to my queen, and she will feed, and they will join our hive. But until then, they will serve me as I do her glorious work." The changeling rose higher into the sky, its wounds already closing over. "Give me what I want, and I'll let you go."

"I'll never give you what you want." Chip stomped a hoof for emphasis.

"Funny," the changeling said, swooping ahead of its troops, "that's what your mom and dad said to these fine fellows."

Chip lurched like he'd been slapped. There was a deep, sick feeling in his stomach, and if he'd had breakfast, it would have threatened to come back up. "My what?" he whispered.

"Don't listen, Chip," hissed Carmine, "it's trying to get into your head! It's what they do!"

"Where do you think I found out?" it hissed back, voice silky smooth. "They told me, foal, how your parents begged. They screamed and cried in the dark as their lifeblood flowed like water. They suffered, under the rock—"

"DAMN YOU TO TARTARUS!" screamed Chip, and he threw himself forwards, rage fuelling his motions. He exploded against the shocked changeling, slamming through the diamond dogs like they were made of paper, hooves fastening around the torso of the bug-like creature as his teeth fastened around it's neck. He rolled again and flicked his head, sending the changeling flying. Chip struggled to his hooves, tears streaming down his face. He hiccupped as he drew great sobbing breaths, gaze fixating on the trolls. "You bastards killed them! They were my parents! What did they ever do to you?!" Chip hung his head, eyes screwed tightly shut. "I was happy! I had everything! I have nothing you want!"

"High king... map... staff... book," said one of the semi-changeling diamond dogs.

"Give it us," said another.

"Ruff never give you anything!"

Chip looked at Ruff, "Get out of the way, I don't want them getting anywhere near that book. And I don't want you hurt."

"Why?" asked Ruff, his voice small as he clutched the odd tome to his chest, "what are you going to do?"

"What I'm going to do," growled Chip, "is give them a quick death." He opened his eyes, drawing his hoof across his muzzle. The tears stopped. His tail flicked angrily as he glared at the diamond dogs, they were fanning out to surround him. He backed up, pushing Ruff to safety, the bubbling anger and shame cooling to a dangerous, cool calm.

The diamond dog pup shivered and backed away as he spied the naked fury on Chip's muzzle. Ruff stared at his friend. He knew Chip was a dragon, but he'd never really internalized that. Now, he would have laughed at anybody claiming otherwise. He would have laughed, and then he would have told them to run. Chip squared his shoulders and lowered his head as he turned back to the hesitating changeling-trolls. "You took my parents from me," hissed Chip, his breath huffing and puffing like bellows. With every step forwards he took, little flickers of flame played around his muzzle. "You should've taken me too. I'd have been nothing then. I was a scared foal. I was a pony. Earth ponies..." Chip hesitated. For a moment, his voice wavered. "Earth ponies are strong," he whispered, his eyes shining wetly, "but they're not that strong. But you made me a dragon. You forged my heart with blood and steel, you filled it with flame, and you made one, fatal mistake."

"Mistake?" The changeling sneered. "What mistake? You were nothing, you are nothing, and you will be nothing."

Chip spread his wings wide, the twin Bevelmiter tubes on his back spitting sparks and light, and he held his tail high and took a deep breath.

Carmine raked her claws through the dirt. "I know what you did. You forgot to run."

Chip roared. A great gout of boiling yellow flame spewed from his muzzle and enveloped the surprised diamond dogs. Chip leaped, his wings flapping once to give him distance before furling closed. He spun, landing on his forehooves as his tail lashed out again and again. Two of the trolls were sent flying in moments.

Carmine's war-screech split the air as her talons sunk deeply into the back of another troll. This sent the diamond dog falling to the ground, but even as she bent her head to rip out his spine, yet another troll grabbed her forcefully by the wings and pulled. She screamed in pain as they were bent back by paws the size of dinner plates. The delicate bones would have snapped like dried twigs, if the troll in question hadn't howled in agony and fallen to his knees. Beth was crouching behind him, one wing outstretched, blood steaming in pools as it ran from the backs of his knees. She'd hamstrung him with her wingblades.

Thorn didn't wait for a second opening. He lunged, gripped the flailing troll by the shoulder blades and head, and twisted. There was an audible snap and the troll fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. His victory was short-lived, however as another troll pounced on him, teeth fastening on his shoulder. Snarling and whipping around, Thorn tried to throw the creature off. Howling in pain, he felt something in his shoulder give and one arm fell limply to his side. Desperately trying to get to his hind-paws, He was suddenly thrown to the ground by a great weight. There was an answering whinny, and the weight left him, along with the troll. Rolling over, he saw the troll was mouthing like a fish out of water. Seemingly in slow motion, the troll fell forwards. Thorn watched as the creature slid smoothly off the horn of a prone Bella to land in a crumpled, twitching heap. He fist-pumped with his good forepaw in thanks. Bella nodded and whirled to meet her next attacker. Thorn wordlessly got to his hind-paws and leaped to aid Chip, who was pummelling a troll with his forehooves.

Carmine raked her claws across the muzzle of a troll who was currently trying to pull her wing off. She snapped her beak and pulled, and something roughly orb-shaped came away with it. Pulling sharply, the creature's eye came completely out of its socket, the fleshy ligatures snapping. She crushed it with the serrated edges of her beak and spat. It tasted foul, she'd never liked the eyes of her prey, even though she knew it was an honour to be offered them. Pushing herself off the screaming creature, she turned. Spying Ruff, her heart went cold. Two large canids were towering over him. Each had grabbed hold of the book, and neither seemed about to let go of each other, nor their prize.

"Ruff!" she shouted, kicking out with her hind-paws to send another attacker flying.

Ruff wasn't letting go of the book either. His paws were tight around the book as he spun, trying to throw the two trolls off. Screwing up his muzzle, he shouted, "get away from me!"

Time seemed to stop for a moment. Then there was a bright flash, and two huge spears of rock slammed upwards from the ground into the two attacking trolls, throwing them into the air. Ruff looked down at his paws, holding the book, just long enough for the changeling to swoop down and snatch it from him. With a warbling cry of victory, the creature turned on its gossamer wings and accelerated away.

"Come back!" shouted Ruff, clenching his fists. He took off at a dead run after the bug-like creature. He paid no heed to the bewitched trolls that tried to stop him. With barely a flick of his eyes, he sent more spears of rock into any attackers. More than a few of them pierced the trolls in question, bloodied spires of granite sprouting from their backs.

The changeling looked back, hissing in anger. "To me! Protect the hive!" it called, smirking as another small group of trolls emerged from under the ground. Ruff stopped short, hind claws skidding in the soft, wet ground. There was a lot of snarling, but Ruff growled all the louder. Clenching his paws together, he balled them into fists, and swept them apart. Before him, the ground opened up and the trolls in front of him fell into it. In one smooth motion, Ruff brought his fists together. And the ground answered. The chasm slammed together with a final-sounding crunch that left nothing of the group but a red smear and a few limbs flopping around loosely.

Before he could move, though, a fist slammed into the back of his head, sending him sprawling. There was the snick of claws as the troll bent to eviscerate him, but another troll slammed into the one that loomed over the pup and careened off, running on all fours, tongue lolling out and short tail flipping up and down as the alpha dog rushed past.

It looked back over its shoulder, pausing mid-stride. It spied Chip, and grinned viciously. "My lady sends greetings, whelp, and a warning. Go home, and maybe you won't meet the same fate as your parents."

Chip, muzzle bloodied and limping slightly, snarled in wordless answer. The diamond dog turned again, gaze fixated on the changeling. It growled low and took off in a run over the desert after its prey. Beth and Carmine furled their wings as they landed next to Chip. Thorn loped up, helping Ruff upright.

"They got book," whined Ruff, rubbing the back of his head.

"It's okay, pup," Penny said, wings flapping slowly and smoothly as she came in for a landing. "You did good. You did your best. Where'd you learn to do that thing with the rocks?"

"Mishka taught Ruff," said Ruff, looking at his paws as he turned them over and over. "Mishka show how. Ruff miss Mishka. Ruff remembered."

Penny nuzzled him softly. "We stopped them hurting us. Mostly." she looked around, grinning hopefully.

"We stopped them, alright, but they got away." Carmine kicked the wheezing diamond dog over, hissing when she saw its bright blue eyes. "All except this one."

Chip put one hoof on the creatures chest and looked into its muzzle. His gaze could have frozen tartarus. "Tell me what you know."

"I... we... never tell."

"Tell me what I want to know, and I will let you live."

The troll just laughed. "Try. Try make me."

Chip grit his teeth. "You will—"

The chuckling, burbling laugh silenced him. "You cannot make me, whelp. Already have owner. Changelings..." the creature coughed, gaze far off. "They try take, but... they can't. Not really." the troll closed his eyes, and opened them again. The blue glow faded. "Mistress more powerful than them. More powerful than you, little dragon. She know so much more than you. She sent me to mines. She sent your parents to trap, and she bid us seal them under rock."

Chip stepped back. "You... really did?" His voice was momentarily small.

"Mother begged." the creature laughed throatily, sneering. "I left her to die, she knew nothing. Mistress know everything, whelp. She is world. She—hurk!" his words were cut off by Chip's hoof on his neck.

"If she knows so damned much, then send her this message, dog." Chip was fighting back tears, rage and flame. He pushed his hoof against the troll's body, causing the hound to whine in pain. He flailed ineffectually against the pressure, begging for release, but there would be no mercy.

Eyes burning with hatred, Chip dipped his head, fastened his jaws around the troll's throat, and ripped it out.

♠♣♥♦

What Lies Within

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═══════════════════════════════════

Chapter 16
What Lies Within
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

♠♣♥♦

Fetid steam rose slowly in the midday air, seeping from entrails dashed upon the last of the winter snow. Chip lifted his muzzle, dripping with the deep, purplish-red of troll blood, and spat. He stood silently for a few moments, almost motionless save for his heaving sides. Then he screamed. He stomped his hooves on the prone, still form of the troll before him, slamming them home again and again until the body was a mass of red welts and misshapen limbs. Then he screamed once more, his draconic roar of frustration, anger and pain echoing out across the plains.

Ruff was silently sitting on his rear end as he stared at his paws. He played them back and forth across his vision. Experimentally he plunged his claws into the ground, drawing them up and out, but nothing happened. He did it again and again, finally screwing up his face, clenching his paws and snarling as he pulled. He fell on his back with a yelp, gazing in shock at a diminutive menhir that had sprung up before him. His victory was short lived as he realized none of the rest of his small pack were looking at his triumph. They were staring at Chip.

"You alright, Chip?" asked Bella hesitantly. She stepped back, cocking her head, as the young dragon turned his empty gaze towards her.

"You did what you had to, Chip," said Penny, flaring her wings as Chip looked at her instead. "You couldn't have stopped that changeling. You couldn't have known—"

"Stop," said Chip, voice hollow. "I should have known. And you know why?" The pony-shaped dragon kicked the dead troll again before saying clearly, "I should have known because this piece of filth belonged to me!" He shouted the last three words, glaring at each of his friends in turn. Finally, he whirled towards the town. Taking a deep breath and spreading his wings, he roared into the sky. "Trolls of the Sapphire Reaches! Your master calls!"

There were still echoes bouncing from mountaintop to mountaintop as the last of the diamond dogs from the Sapphire Reaches pack rushed to present themselves to their master. Chip's friends stood aghast as he silently waited, naked rage burning in his gaze. Nobody said a word as Chip stepped forwards into their ranks.

"What am I?" he asked coolly, staring down any troll that dared meet his gaze. "See, I thought I was a dragon. I thought I was your master. But to some of you here, I am... what? An easy target?" Chip stalked through the throng of trolls, some respectfully inclining their heads, others merely hunched over, winded from their mad dash to heed the call of their strange alpha. Chip turned and stalked away, back to the front. "Maybe," he said, "you can ask him!" Chip grabbed a hold of the corpse with his teeth and bodily hurled it into the crowd, the trolls scattering in its wake. It landed with a series of wet thumps, tumbling end over end, coming to rest staring blankly into the sky.

"Chip," hissed Carmine, "by the first egg, what are you doing?!"

Chip ignored her, his stance unwavering, eyes hard and jaw set. There wasn't even any muttering, they knew their place. The bulldog-muzzled creatures dropped to their knees, prostrating themselves before him.

"I see a mere contract isn't enough. Very well." His eyes flashed as he snarled out, in ancient draconic, the ritual spell of enslavement. It was a simple decree, and a promise. They would step into the darkness beyond twilight as truly bonded slaves, or they would pay the price. As his voice faded away, the trolls answered in kind. He felt them as their souls joined with his. It was a faint buzzing in his mind, a weight he couldn't fully explain. Hundreds of voices, whispering fealty, floated through his consciousness. He bowed his head, his heart hardened against the cries of surprise and worry from his friends, and once more stepped forwards. It was something he knew, now, that he should have done at the very beginning. Not because he wanted it, but because they wanted it. They expected it, they needed it. Their inner voices cried out with a joy Chip hated to feel, but could not ignore. It made him sick as he realized these diamond dogs weren't like the others, or ponies, dragons and griffons. These had been bred to be pets. He closed his eyes, fighting off nausea, as he realized what he'd done.

"Chip, I... I don't like this," Carmine said, backing away.

"Me either," said Bella, shying away, her eyes showing their whites. "I know you're hurt, but this... it's too much! Please, Chip!"

Chip turned to them, a mixture of pain, shame and fear in his eyes. "I'm doing this for you! For all of you! For all of Tacksworn!"

"You didn't do this for anybody but yourself!" shouted Carmine, "I don't want to have anything to do with this!" She turned and loped away a few feet before turning back to look at the dragon with a cold expression. "When you've come to your senses, come find me. Until then, I can't look at you."

"Fine," shouted Chip. "Just fine. Go. Run, you traitor."

An angry warbling growl emanated from Carmine, her neck-feathers fluffing up. "I'll let you have that one, Chip, because... because I... l love you. But so help me, I'll gut you like a rabbit if you ever say that to me again." Carmine turned her head quickly away so Chip wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. Loping a short distance, she spread her wings and took to the skies.

Chip watched her go, with a lump in his throat. "Car—" he began, feeling sick to his stomach. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Chip, I'm..." Bella voice tentatively broke the silence. Her ears were flat against her head and her eyes darted about. "I'm gonna head back. My parents... everyone back there, they're gonna want to know what's happened. Come on, guys." Bella waved her horn in the direction of town, glaring purposefully at Penny and Bethany. The pegasus took a hold of Ruff by the scruff of his neck and placed him on her back before hurrying to join her friends as they moved towards town.

Chip was alone, with himself and his actions. He felt sick, tired, worn out, hollow, empty... but he would carry on. It had to be this way. They would understand.

They had to.

"Rise, pets. You please me, unlike this trash." Chip kicked a hoof into the bloodied lump. Stumpy tails wagged surreptitiously. He felt like patting them on the head, nausea washing over him as he realized they sought just that. "I want one thing from you now. I want to know who killed my parents!" He glared around at the crowd, meeting gazes as his shout died away. "I want you to bring me the hides of those who crossed my family, torn from what is left of their broken bodies. Find them, my hounds, and end them. Now go!"

As small groups of older male trolls split off – leaving the young, the weak, the old and the female behind – Chip sat slowly down onto his haunches. He bowed his head, the weight of what he had just begun laying heavily upon his withers.

♠♣♥♦

There had been many aftershocks since the great quake had swallowed their village and the plateau it had rested upon, but nothing quite so cataclysmic as the first. This was cold comfort, however, as lingering fears kept everyone on edge. Only a scarce paw-full of days had passed since the start of their flight from the burning mountain, days of relative peace, though not without hardships. Akash had pushed the dishevelled remains of his pack mercilessly through the Wild Wood, pausing only briefly for rest, food and water. Many had perished; the very old, the very young, the infirm. There were only three Elders and the Khan left now, and two of the five pack alphas had perished from wounds suffered as they sought to rescue stragglers. Akash felt every death keenly, a weight on his heart; as Dreamer it was his task to escort the dead to their final resting place. That sacred task would have to wait until he finished tending to the living. Mindful of his duty to raise the pack's morale, it was time to provide at least some hope of rescue. Akash cast his gaze about, until he found the hound he was looking for.

The young troll in question was handsome enough to have found a mate, but remained resolutely a bachelor. He was far too enamoured of the freedom such an unattached position afforded him, to settle down. The idleness of peace had put it off, now the chaos and despair held it back. In ancient times, a troll such as he would have already sired many litters to strengthen the tribe. Maybe it was time to ease the issue along, once the current crisis was over

"Stonetalker Grash," called Akash, "another beacon!"

"Why should I?" snarled Grash, loping up to the Elder at the bellowed summons. "Beacon is useless! World ends, who is there left to follow it?" As if to punctuate his words, a crash of thunder rumbled through the valley. The keening wails of the otherwise solemn procession filled the air after. The fear was not unfounded, either. On several occasions, great chunks of flaming rocks had rained down on the fleeing trolls, causing pandemonium.

"Is Grash unable? Too weak? Akash will find another Stonetalker, then." Akash's eyes twinkled with suppressed mirth. He knew how to talk to the impetuous, proud pack member.

Grumbling, Grash crouched down, dug his forepaws into the ground and pulled. A mound of stone sprung up. Digging his claws in it, he marked the menhir with the runic, slashed script of his people, scraping his claws through the stone, curling off slivers. Shattered Hills Pack, it said, escaped from valley of fire. Passed through Wild Wood. 1900 survivors.

"You will be remembered, Grash," promised Akash. "I am Dreamer Akash, I tell you this is so. For a thousand years, your name will be remembered."

"For what?" snarled Grash. "What lies before was great. Here? We are nothing."

"What lies before was great, Grash. What lies ahead is greater still."

Barely mollified, the apprentice Stonetalker turned and loped on towards an uncertain future.

Akash followed. He limped as he plunged his staff into the soft loam of the earth with every few steps. The world was whispering to him. It was safe, for now, but the end of all things was coming in an inexorable tide of destruction. The dreams hadn't lied, but he had known better than to try to outfox them. Those he could send away on fools' errands, he had. They would be safe, or at least they passed beyond the scope of his vision. He prayed to the gods below and above that this meant they were safe, that they would find the Stonedwellers at Bright Quarry, or the Ferry Pack, and live to see whatever new world dawned.

He reached for the Telling Bones, wrapped tightly around the aged staff. His paw pulled roughly on the taut twine until it snapped. Scribing a circle with the tip of his staff, he cast them inside. He squatted down to observe them, confused. They made no sense. Footsteps came closer, and a paw lifted one of the little bones up.

"What is this, Akash?"

"Pug? What are you—" Akash cried in surprise. He swiftly grabbed the bone from the impetuous youth and turned it over and over in his paws. Casting his gaze down to the Telling Circle, he fell down onto his haunches and began to laugh.

"Akash?" asked Pug, confused.

Akash tossed the bone to the young hound. "Keep it. They're no use to me any more."

"I know the bones speak to you, Akash," Pug insisted, "what do they say?"

Akash looked once again at the circle, tears of relief and laughter falling from his eyes. "You will lead them home, Pug. That bone is from the very tip of a Screech-wing's tail. When a chick is born, it uses that bone to stab through the shell. It is the smallest, and yet perhaps the most important. It is yours."

Pug furrowed his brow, the silvery-grey pelted runty youth peering down at the bone in his paws, blue eyes screwed up in concentration. "I don't understand. What do the bones say?"

"They say egg." Akash stood up and closed his paw over Pug's, curling the troll's claw into a tight fist. Then he let go. "I proclaim you an Alpha," Akash said as he straightened up. "We must head to the hills, deep into the caves below. Forak the One-Eyed Demon has stolen the day-star, and his baleful glare will burn us as surely as the fires from beneath or the smoke from above."

"Alpha?" Pug stared at his paw, eyes wide.

"Alpha. Move!"

Hesitantly, Pug nodded. Placing an ear to the ground, he closed his eyes and listened. The caves were not too distant. He would lead the pack there. He scampered off.

Akash picked up his staff from where it had fallen to the ground. Shorn of the Telling Bones, it seemed smaller. Snorting, Akash guessed it was the way of things. He smiled as he began the long trek up the side of the mountain. For the first time, he had hope.

It was hope, however, that proved to be short-lived. He felt it before he saw it, and if a stray gust of wind hadn't punched through the clouds, he would never even have seen it. The daystar was flickering sickly again. Gritting his teeth at a sudden pain between his ears, Akash yelled out to his pack. "Quickly now! Pug the Wise has lead you true! Into the Below!"

The cavemouth was large. It was an ancient stronghold against the thunder-wielders of the Northern plains, unoccupied for generations since the great warriors of the past had vanquished the last of their ancient foes. Akash had chosen the site for two reasons: one, it was ingrained as a place of safety in the tribal memory. Two, it was quite possibly the only place they could go to escape the wrath of whatever illness had befallen the day-star.

Listening to a growing babble of arguments, Akash stormed through the gathered throng as he realized that the pack was not going inside. Snarling in frustration, head still burning with the distant but approaching wrath of the sky-gods, he ripped the skull from the top of his staff. Pulling the teeth from the grinning visage with a single yank of his great paw, he roughly shouldered his way to the very front and scattered the teeth in front of the suddenly-silent crowd.

They spelled safe. It was an easy trick, but it worked. Pug, pointing an accusing claw at the rival alpha who had obstructed him, turned around smartly and trudged inside. "Stay outside if you scared," called Pug.

It was the final straw, and the tide of tired, hungry and scared diamond dogs followed him.

Akash stood aside to let the pack in. He grabbed Grash as he loped past, pulling him close. "Wait with me, Stonetalker Grash. You are needed. Your moment of glory approaches."

Grash, shining black fur and hazel eyes bright, grumbled and snarled as was the way of the young, but waited with the Elder. "What do you want from me, Dreamer?"

"I want you to stand with me, Grash, and witness. Remember this, for the sight will be with you until the end of your days." Akash pointed, as a wall of fire sprung up across the Wild Wood, far in the distance. This far in the hills, the cloud of smoke from the burning mountain had dissipated enough for the balefully glaring sun to be partially visible. Now, the skies were alight with the fairy lights of the rainbow serpent's breath.

The sun, usually warm and yellow in the green sky, was now a baleful red and purple. It looked diseased, with black patches floating across its bloated surface as immense glowing tendrils snaked out towards them. As they watched, one incandescent strand reached groundwards like the bony talons of some huge predator. Where it passed, the world burned.

Grash quailed, mouth dropping open. "What is it that comes, Dreamer?"

"The end of all things, young Grash. And only you can help keep your pack safe."

"What do you want me to do?" the youngster asked.

"I want you to pull the mountain down. Do it now, Stonetalker, save your tribe." Akash placed his paw gently on Grash's shoulder, then turned and hobbled deeper into the caves. "Be at peace, young Grash. I have the Telling of it."

"Are you mad?" Grash swore, tearing his eyes from the devastation below, "These caves do not part easily for even the most powerful of Stonetalkers. I am..."

"If you are incapable of these tasks, tasks which befit an Alpha, then I will have to find another—" Akash called, not stopping.

"You no understand!" wailed Grash after the retreating Elder. "If Grash pull mountain down, we not get out!"

"Trust me, young Grash. I wield the power of a Dreamer. You must trust me, and you must pull the mountain down. If you do not, we will die when the Eye of Forak spies us. Safe in the Below, we will yet live."

"But there is no way out!"

"On my life," said Akash, turning once more to face the youngster, "there is a way out." The old Dreamer turned back and continued his slow, painful walk into the cave, eager that his expression not give away his real feelings. The truth was, he hurt. The journey had taken what few years he'd had left and chewed them up. It wouldn't matter soon.

Grash gulped, watching as the old one rounded the bend. Then he glanced outwards, down the mountain, at the maelstrom below. What he saw made him whimper, and he almost lost his water on the dusty stone. Great pillars of flame descended from the heavens, tongues of fire that licked at the world, gouging out great molten rents. Where they passed, nothing remained but molten slag and glass. There were screams as the final stragglers strove to enter the dubious sanctuary of the caves. "Come! Come all! Most fast! Paws of demon god Forak seek to snatch you up! Flee! Flee to safety!"

Before even the last of the tribe had reached safety, Grash started his work. Heaving with all his might, he scrabbled at the walls, ripping great chunks out of the granite. The trickle was small at first, but rapidly grew bigger and bigger. Suddenly, with a deafening roar, the mountain gave in and a massive sheet of rubble deposited itself over the gaping maw of the chasm. It wasn't a moment too soon, as the tongues of flame licked ever closer. Just as their heat threatened to overwhelm him, he was plunged into darkness.

Whimpering and sobbing, crying to himself in the darkness, Grash rocked to and fro until the panic subsided. Their world had ended, he saw that now. The gods waged war in heaven and on earth, and mere mortals like him were nothing but dust before their grinding engines of chaos. Breathing slowly and deeply until his breaths were even, he wiped his paws across his muzzle and stood up. He was an Alpha, he would act like one. Squaring his shoulders, he headed inwards, towards what meagre safety the great cave system offered.

It didn't take him long to catch up with Akash. He found as he moved deeper into the cave system that the natural lichen that grew over every untouched surface glowed softly in the near pitch-black darkness. His eyes began to adjust, and whilst the light never grew substantial, he could at least see where he was going.

At the young troll's footsteps, Akash began to speak. "Alpha Grash, you will have a hard task ahead of you. You must support young Pug. He is a Dreamer like me, but will not have the teachings."

"But Akash, you—"

"Hush, young one. My time grows short, and spending it on idle chatter wastes it. He does not have the body of a Stonetalker. You must be his body, he will be your head."

"I dislike Pug," growled Grash as he drew level with the shaman.

"You do not need to like him, you merely need to respect him. If you do not respect him then fear me."

Grash looked at Akash, who pulled the toothless skull from his leather shoulder-pack. "The teeth said the caves were safe. This skull isn't. I am a Dreamer, young Grash. Do as I say, or I will send the soul of this drazzig to torment you until you breathe your last."

Grash's black fur turned almost alabaster at the thought, and he shook with renewed fear.

"Be at peace, youngster." Akash stopped momentarily in the darkness, striking his staff on the rock floor. The top burst into flames, reminded of when it had been molten and liquid. It wouldn't last long, but it would last long enough. Akash walked slowly and deliberately towards Grash. The younger troll, eyes wide in shock as the quite possibly mad old hound neared him, backed away in disbelief.

"Be at peace, and trust me," said Akash, placing a withered paw on the younger hound's shoulder.

Grash nodded, swallowing heavily.

The cavern was vast, but the multitudes were many. They were hungry, tired, scared, frightened... and more than a few of them were dying. The air was thick and fetid. Soon it would be foul and unbreathable. They were running out of time. Hours, days... it would not be long, though what they would die from first – the lack of air, food or water – was anyone's guess.

Akash tottered into the cramped space. Heedless of the flames that flickered out around his paws, his ancient staff crumbling to dust, Akash bent to pick up the gemstones as they fell from their seatings. At the sudden return to darkness, many of the females and younglings started wailing. This wailing ceased once Akash Spoke to the gems. They lit up, one after another, cradled in his paws.

"Packmates," Akash said, voice echoing through the dimly-lit, dusty cavern. "Today is the final day of our flight. You will be led to safety. There will be no more running, there will be no more destruction. There will also be no return. The old world has passed away in fire and ice—"

At the chattering and arguing which rapidly grew in volume, Akash raised his paws for silence, lifting the glowing jewels with them, their light casting strange, multi-coloured shadows throughout the enclosed space.

"Those of you who wish to, may remain here, to see what of our doomed realm has survived. It is our way, and you may yet survive. What lies before was great, I know this, but what lies ahead is greater still. Follow the alpha that your heart tells you to."

"Follow them where?" came a cry. It was the Khan. At first, Akash thought him stubborn, but then he realized the old hound was being wily. His time was as ended as the world's was, and he would step aside the only way he knew how. "There is nowhere to go! I will stay here. I will wait until the air grows thin, until my bones cry out for food and water, and then I shall leave for the surface. Those of you who wish may follow me. Or you may follow a fool into destruction." The pack leader crossed his paws and bared his fangs, a resolute expression on his face.

Akash took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, meeting the old alpha's gaze and giving a knowing nod. Then he went to find Pug. He found the young alpha facing off against Grash. He pointedly ignored other demands for his attention and instead glared at the two youngsters until they got the hint and sheepishly ceased bickering.

"Grash, you are the body of the pack. Pug, you will be the head. I speak not of leadership or dominion of each other, but of the hounds that will follow you. I pronounce you brothers, young alphas, bonded with blood that you have each shed for the pack. Will you take this task for me?"

Silently, Grash and Pug shared glares. The glares softened, and they nodded.

"Good. Give me your paws." Akash gestured for the right paw of each alpha. The two youngsters held them out, gritting their teeth in anticipation. Taking one of the glowing gems, Akash slit their palms, pulling the wounds apart until they bled. Nodding with satisfaction, he pressed their two paws together. "You are now blood brothers, bonded as surely as if you had shared a womb and a mother." Standing up and proffering them each his treasures, he cleared his throat and spoke again. "Now, take these gems, and stand back."

Not understanding, wincing as their wounds parted and bled again, Pug took two of the gems and Grash the other three. They watched, bemused, as the old troll approached the bare rock wall. He turned, holding up his paws for silence once more. When the rabble had calmed to mere murmurs and grumblings, he spoke.

"Behold now, packmates, the power of a Dreamer. Within these paws I hold Stonetalking, Gemspeaking, Bone Telling, Healing... and Dream Walking." At his last words, the pack grew silent. He studied them wordlessly for a few moments, then carried on.

"Now, then, is the genesis of your choice. Pass through, or stay."

"Pass through where, Dreamer?" asked the Khan.

Inwardly, Akash smiled to himself. He would now prove the old Khan unworthy to rule, by demonstrating his lack of knowledge. His glee was tinged with sadness, for he knew what it would mean for the old alpha. "Behold, then, doubter, as I part the seams of the world itself."

So saying, Akash turned to the rockface and thrust his paws forwards. Grasping the rock in great bulging lumps, he pulled. In the crack that grew between his paws burst light; reds, greens, blues, yellows – the bright light was blinding compared to what had been almost total darkness a moment before. Nothing but brilliance could be seen beyond the fantastic aurora.

Fighting against what looked like a torrent of energy, little bolts of lightning dancing across his fur as it stood up and out, Akash dug deeper and deeper, forging sanity from the whirling madness. He hadn't gone far when he stumbled and fell to his knees. Before anybody could lift a paw to help him up, however, he rose on his own. Gritting his teeth, he plunged his fists into the boiling clouds of energy once more, and ripped them asunder. From out of the confusion and madness, another crack split in the infinite reaches of whatever nether-space the old hound trod upon. With a rippling explosion of heat and sensation, the presence of another world made itself known. Fresh air flooded into the cavern, along with bright sunlight that shone warmly down from a deep azure sky.

Almost a thousand noses turned up to savour the sweet air, the fragrances of a green and verdant world of plenty.

From his standpoint in the middle of nowhere, suspended on what were little more than glowing clouds of multicoloured light, Akash turned and addressed the pack for one last time. Great strain showed on his muzzle as he looked over the gathered throng with a finality which was bone-chilling. "You must choose now, children of the Shattered Hills. I shall pass on, alone, to commune with those who have gone before and lead them to their rest. My Dreaming ends this day, my children, for I am weary. But for the rest of you, it is a new beginning. Make your peace, make your choice, and make your move."

♠♣♥♦

Sharptooth wasted no time with his landing. He slammed into the ground like a meteor, the blastwave a peal of thunder rolling across the plains. The force made the earth shake. The smell of his sulfurous breath alone was intimidating enough to clear his path, and his leathery wings furling made Chip shiver with fear. His friends had long since scattered, heading back for town and what relative safety it offered.

Sharptooth eyed the trolls meandering around the area, then turned his attention to his son. He took a deep breath and sighed, his anger turning to bitter disappointment in an instant. "What did you do?"

Chip was silent for a moment, before straightening up. He looked at a particularly interesting mountain in the distance. "I did what I had to do, dad! They killed my parents! They tried to kill me!"

"I felt your magic, young one. Did you think you could swear an oath like that without your clan-head knowing?" Sharptooth wasn't just walking around his son. He was stalking. Anger, barely restrained, meant great rents were torn from the bedrock by his claws.

Chip's top lip curled back, but it was no pony gesture.

"Careful, boy." Sharptooth growled low, unable to help himself. "I told you that you would one day feel rage. I cautioned you against it mastering you, many moons ago. Control yourself, calm yourself when you address me." Sharptooth's words were not unkind, but they were no less forceful for it.

Chip visibly deflated. Even his wings drooped. He trotted forwards, head bowed low, presenting himself for judgement. "They killed my parents, Dad," he said, eyes on the ground. They were wet with tears when he looked back up, silently begging forgiveness from his adopted father. "They killed my parents and then they tried to kill me and my friends. They stole the book, a book about diamond dogs. I... we tried to stop them."

"I know, lad. The smell of blood is thick along your trail. Tell me, then. What are your intentions with your new... pets?"

Chip turned, gazing at the few remaining trolls. Some half dozen adults and a gaggle of pups who had made the trip with their kin busied themselves with make-work – gathering sticks for firewood, tending to desert plants as if they were a garden, some were even sweeping the dirt from the path Chip had forged into piles – as they fought to impress their bonded master. Some wagged their tails expectantly. "They are good pets," he said finally. "They please me."

"That is no answer," growled Sharptooth. "I would you had not done this, Chip. Equestria was founded on equality and egality. The great Pax Equestrus was written to keep the races that dwell within this realm on equal footing, and now my very own son risks breaking that covenant." Chip hung his head as the older dragon's gaze bored into him. "Do you know what you have done?"

"What?" Chip whispered.

"You will have displeased Celestia, diarch of this realm, who has at her beck and call the armies of this nation. You will have angered the one who raises the sun, who wields the powers of the heavens themselves. She does not suffer rebellion lightly."

Chip gulped. "B-but—"

Sharptooth continued, voice level, tone biting. "You have raised an army of your own, on her soil, from subjects of a foreign, sovereign state. You have taken trolls you merely controlled and bent them to your will, and you lay your geas upon them in defiance of her decrees to the contrary."

"What will she do?" Chip's voice was small.

"To break the Pax Equestrus?" Sharptooth let the name of the great agreement which almost single-hoofedly meant peace between all citizens of the realm, hang in the air. "Nothing, overtly. But know this – you walk a knife edge, young dragon, and her ire will be felt. Your personal might is not sufficient to shield you from the full wrath of the solar princess. Your link to the draconic hegemony is tenuous at best and succour there will be minimal. What else do you have? Where else could you flee? You have little but your meagre force of diamond dogs. Would you dwell amongst them, then, should the free peoples of Equestria turn their back against you?"

Chip shook now, in fear. "What was I supposed to do?!" he wailed.

Sharptooth lifted his great head to stare skywards. He was silent for a good few minutes. "You have done what you should have done that night when you took your place as prospective clan-head of the Sapphire Reaches. These trolls are tainted with the blood of another—"

"A dragon!" Chip hissed, excitement cutting through his panic and shame. "I... I couldn't make that one do as I say. He said he already had an owner, and it wasn't the changelings."

Sharptooth closed his eyes, deep in thought. He opened them again and wandered over to the remains of the dead alpha. "This one bears a familiar mark, and I did not realize its import. Forgive me, young one."

"What? Why?"

Sharptooth rolled the body over, picking at the remains of the troll's clothes until the back of the hound's neck was visible. "When you took them for your own, you marked them, but you did not take them as my scion. You took them as thralls of the Sapphire Reaches. It is that mark your magic chose." Sharptooth pointed a single, wicked talon at the odd collection of jewel-like shapes seemingly sunk into the flesh of the dead alpha.

Chip stared at it. The magic knew, somehow, something he had felt but not understood properly. It confused him still. He looked expectantly at his father. The elder dragon stared at the body for a moment, then turned to a nearby group of trolls.

"You," said Sharptooth to a random troll, a bitch he noted. "Come. Kneel." Sharptooth watched silently as the troll did as she was bid. He eased her lanky hair out of the way, and gently angled her head forwards.

Chip looked down at an identical mark on her neck. "...It's the same. But I never put it on the other one, how can that be?"

Sharptooth emitted a sound somewhere between a sigh and an angry growl. "It reveals the identity of your adversary, my boy. Our adversary. It can only be the Lady Akhekhu, ancient matriarch of sapphire. I had thought her moved on from such things."

"But I-I'm the clan head, I thought?"

Sharptooth laughed hollowly, "Dragons do not stand on such petty occurences and happenstances. One may try to take what one wishes, but it is in the proving that title is held. Her magic dwarfs yours and mine, she imbues the Sapphire Reaches clan with her essence in a way you do not. Should she have claimed a thrall living within Tacksworn, I would not know. Now, however, should one not pledge him or herself to you, your pets will deal with them. Swiftly and mercilessly."

"What about the changeling?"

"Did it escape?"

"It was pursued by... some other troll."

"One of hers, no doubt. By nightfall it will be the last within a hundred miles of the borders of Tacksworn. I shall contact Thrinn, I suggest you mobilize your forces. Catch either or both of them at all costs, and should Celestia catch wind of this? Throw yourself on her mercy."

Chip squeaked. "She won't banish me? Or lock me up? Or lock me up in the place she banishes me to?"

"She may, but you will fare utterly better than if you dare stand against her, my boy. She has more years than either of us put together. She is neither ignorant nor cruel, but she is ruthless. Do not cross her."

"Any more than I already have."

"Quite." Sharptooth shook his head, jaws working as he clenched his teeth, his tongue flicking rapidly. "You have done a great wrong today, but I hold you blameless."

"Wrong?" Chip whimpered.

"It is a rot which has seeped into the heart of our nation, to hold sway over the very souls of others. Long have we prospered, us dragons, on our strength and honesty alone. It is that same honesty which is our undoing, for in brutal truth there is often no compassion. Because we can hold the lives of others between our claws, we do. We seldom stop to consider whether we should. Akhekhu does not, and so she moves her pieces upon the board, and in turn moves you. You're a pawn in a far larger game, larger than Equestria. It is a game that few other than dragons can play, and it is one you are forced to participate in."

"But I didn't want any of this! I just wanted... even Celestia just wanted me to be safe!"

"If you hadn't been brought to me, son, you would have been killed. Or worse. If I hadn't made you a dragon, you would have been snuffed out like a candle. I wonder how many of my own actions were fate, or were dictated by another."

"Who? Celestia?"

"Perhaps. There was, however, only one move you could make. And it is for this reason alone that I do not rip your throat out where you stand and deliver your remains to the princess and beg her forgiveness."

Chip blanched. "I... I was scared. I didn't mean... I just wanted—" The young dragon sniffled and gulped, great coughing hiccups as he fought for breath, panic tearing into him and tears rolling down his muzzle as his composure fell.

"This scares me too. Your quick and painless end would be preferable to the rage of the sun-goddess." Sharptooth's voice was flat and emotionless, the disgust plain in every aspect.

Chip broke down, falling to his knees and then curling up in a ball. "I don't... I don't want to die! I don't want to end up in a box under the earth in the dark! I don't want to be alone! I don't want to hurt! I don't w-want to be b-banished or b-butchered! I just want to go home!" Chip thrust his head between his legs and a hoof in his mouth, rocking back and forth, and for the first time in months, cried for a mother who could never come.

Sharptooth wrapped himself around his son, and for the first time in many centuries, cursed his draconic heritage.

♠♣♥♦

Author's Note

I want to say a quick and heart-felt thank you to the editors who have really, really stepped up to the plate with this chapter. They've made it awesome. If they let me, I'll expand this author's note with their details, but I honestly say it would not have been this good without them.

This is the first time I think I'm really happy with the outcome in quite a while.

Alea Iacta Est

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═══════════════════════════════════

Chapter 17
Alea Iacta Est
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

♠♣♥♦

Whistler ducked and weaved, dodging projectiles as they hurtled overhead. He had been fluttering as low to the ground as he dared for fear a griffon or pegasus from the Tacksworn Protectorate would see him, but that just made things easier for the diamond dog following him. The great hulking beast of a troll had been hot on his trail since they'd left the town, almost absent-mindedly throwing the rocks it gouged up with its claws at every opportunity. Tough chitin-like carapace or not, if one of them hit him, it could—

There was a sudden jolt of pain as a lucky blow from a projectile removed a neat section of wing and impacted with his barrel. Losing altitude, he fought hard against an all-out crash landing. Spinning in the air as he flapped madly to regain control, his eyes darted hither and yon, looking for the troll. He couldn't see it. It must have been a desperate throw, a list-ditch attempt at—

From beneath him, the earth opened up. A troll-shaped missile exploded out of the ground, cleared tree-level, and slammed into him. The pair of them fell, tumbling end over end, to land heavily in the dust. Whistler came to rest on his back, pinned. He tried to buzz his wings or squirm free, but the troll had a grip like a vice. Worse, he was barely panting. Worst of all, he was grinning.

"What're you going to do with me?" hissed the changeling, glaring angrily.

The troll bared his teeth. "You come with Gnasher now. Gnasher take you to Mistress."

"B-but... we had you! I had you like I had those other fools!"

"Mistress voice louder than swarm, bug-pony, so much louder."

Whistler squirmed again. "You'll never keep hold of me. As soon as night falls, you'll need to sleep. Maybe not this night, maybe not the next, but soon enough you shall. And when you do, I'll change. I'll slip away, and you'll never find me." Whistler glared up at the troll, triumph writ large on his muzzle. Slowly, however, that expression changed as the damned troll just kept grinning. Finally, Whistler had to look away.

Gnasher looked up, his gaze distant, before speaking. "Mistress! Bring me home! I have what you seek!"

"Wait! Wait, what're you—" Whistler began, but broke off as the world twisted around him. He was used to magic, but teleportation was unfamiliar, and this was over a great distance. It was almost painful. The world whirled and lurched; up was left, down was in and right was backwards. Changelings were never sick, they couldn't even throw up, but Whistler suddenly wished he could. As his stomach settled, he became aware of his surroundings.

He was in a darkened cave. His nose told him there was a single large exit to a network of passageways, though another alcove led to a second cave. It was likely a sleeping dormitory. The cave was underground, a network of what were apparently airshafts lead up and hopefully out. If he was lucky, he could fit through some of these. The only way the troll could follow would be to rip the walls and foundations apart.

That was the key, though, if.

"Well, well, well. One of my worthless hounds returns to me, with a gift. Pray tell me, mongrel, why should I be impressed with your hunting trophy? If you wish to bring back proof of your prowess at killing, whilst amusing, I do not feel it calls for such a summons." The voice was deep. It reverberated from the second alcove, dripping with malice and interest.

"My lady," whimpered Gnasher. He hung his head momentarily, moving it back up before Whistler could bite him. "I have this!"

"Release it."

Gnasher leaped off, backing away and placing all four paws plus his head on the ground. The troll's tail wagged pathetically. Whistler took in this scene, and for a moment was still. Then, like a shot, he was off. He zipped upwards, wings a blur as he fought for speed and altitude, aiming for a roughly circular air-shaft in the ceiling.

It almost worked.

Almost.

If his wing hadn't been damaged, if he'd just been that much faster...

A nimbus of blue energy surrounded him, locking him in place. It dragged him back down again, even as he fought and scrabbled to get free. Forced into immobility, his hooves seemingly glued to the rock floor, the glowing ball of magic then plucked at the damaged wing, pulling and working at it until it came free with a spurt of green ichor. He screamed, the pain unbearable, until with a sudden flare of healing magic the agony subsided to a dull ache. He watched, shaken, as the shredded collection of cartilage and skin-like membrane fell to the floor. The bubble of magic finally dispersed and he was allowed to fall onto his side in a heap. It wasn't kindness, they had known it would leave him helpless. His remaining wing was whole, but one wing was not enough to fly with. On the ground, by hoof, he would never be able to evade the troll. And that was even if he could escape the inner sanctum of whatever creature ruled here. He was unsurprised when a large, blue dragon padded out of her weyr to take a closer look.

"Hmm, a most interesting toy. You have done well, my pet. I am pleased with you. Well pleased. I think I will keep it." The dragon flicked her claw. There was a flash, and Whistler felt something hide-like tighten around his neck. It was a leather collar, complete with an oversized buckle and a bell. A chain sprouted like a weed from the inset metal loop, snaking towards the ground where it dug into the bedrock. It fell to the floor heavily, clanking and clashing with a distressing finality. Then the magic faded.

Whistler tried to run. The dragon watched. The chain went taut as he ran out of length, and the collar refused to budge. He almost spun head over hooves with the momentum of his short, fruitless mad dash. As he did, the diamond dog book fell from his neck-bag, skidding across the floor. Gnasher retrieved it, presenting it to his mistress.

"Two presents? You are a good boy. Come, sit by me, speak of your travails."

"Gnasher find, mistress. Gnasher live, work, eat in Tacksworn. Gnasher listen. Gnasher learn. Took book from—"

"You allowed the changeling to steal it, hmm? A most clever pet. And tell me, most favoured amongst my hounds, what is in this book?"

"Book is... High King. Great Khan. First Khan."

Akhekhu was silent for a few moments, pondering. "That which I have been seeking is within my grasp," she said, idly stroking the head and back of Gnasher. He shivered with both fear and delight at her touch. "This book details, then, how to find the High King's Staff?"

Gnasher froze. "Gnasher... think so?"

"It had better, my pet. Take it to my scribes, take whoever you need from your pack and find out. I want that staff, I want those jewels. If you are to be High King, my faithful pet, you must continue to please me. Now go!"

Gnasher didn't need to be told twice. He ran for it.

Akhekhu smiled, looking down at the helpless changeling. It was not a kind smile, it held far too many teeth for that.

The changeling cowered away fearfully, his one wing buzzing instinctually in an attempt at flight. "What are you going to do to me?"

"I have a new pet, little one. I will teach it to behave."

"I will never obey you! I am the swarm! I am the hive! I am—" Whistler assaulted the dragon with all the defiance he could muster, but at her unwavering amusement, it faltered.

"Very, very far from home. We will start with simple tricks. Begging for food." Whistler snarled. Ahekhu just smiled. "You're a changeling. I know what changelings need. I can give it to you. So beg."

"Never!" He tried to glare, but dipped his gaze.

"I can wait. I won't allow you to die, pet. It won't be that easy. You'll sit up, beg, roll over and do tricks, all at my command. And you'll enjoy it. I've done it before, many times, to creatures far stronger willed than you." Akhekhu craned her head nearer, and spoke very clearly. "Now beg."

♠♣♥♦

Tacksworn was in chaos once more. Ponies, griffons and diamond dogs were all swarming around the ruined library, those with wings flitting to and fro in the sky, those on the ground were patrolling with stoic expressions on their beaks or muzzles. Several small groups of trolls were cowering, surrounded by Tacksworn natives. There were griffons lowering pikes, wings spread in pre-pounce readiness and ponies by the score, pawing the ground.

"Stop!" cried Carmine. "Stop, hold. These... these trolls might belong to Chip. Did they come back from—"

"Belong? We thought them his before, and now we find them destroying our town!" roared an armoured adult griffon, one of the Protectorate Council, serving under Thrinn.

"That just changed, Arlen. Have them... search their bodies. They should have some sort of mark on them somewhere."

"Tell me then, how do we know that this mark speaks true?" Arlen chuffed, snorting through his beak in frustration.

Carmine stared the blue-speckled male down. "It speaks true, but if you don't believe me, then have the ones that returned from the chase guard the ones who didn't. And then guard them yourself."

"We are supposed to—"

Carmine whirled, spreading her wings, tail lashing angrily, as she brandished her bloodied claws. "You will do as I say! I saw..." she broke off for a moment, scowled, then continued, "I saw what a dragon does to slaves that displease it. These belong to Chip, I promise you, because they wouldn't still be breathing if they didn't. Have them wear a uniform or something if you can't tell them apart. I can tell you which ones will do as they are told. They're the ones he... he owns."

The blue griffon lashed his tail for a few moments. "Very well. But I cannot let them free until I know for sure."

"You can." Carmine advanced on the nearest small group of diamond dogs, glaring at them. "Tell me, who am I?"

"You are... chosen one of Master," replied one of the hound trolls.

More like he's my chosen one, thought Carmine to herself. Aloud, she asked, "Will you do as I tell you, in the name of your master?"

The hound considered, scratching at an ear. "In his name, we will do as you ask, so long as it does not go against his commands."

"On the contrary," Carmine squawked, pointing a bladed talon at the hound, "if you do as I say, you'll be better able to do as he demands. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Carmine watched as tails wagged. She swallowed. Diamond dogs were fiercely loyal to each other, to their pack, and presumably to their owner. Chip's trolls, when changelings could be anywhere, were quite possibly the only diamond dogs she could fully trust. The realization sat heavily upon her, a tight knot of displeasure in her craw.

The troll who had answered before spoke up, his eyes fixed upon her. "Tell us, Mistress."

"First, what does he want you to do?" Carmine prepared to listen very carefully. If she was right, they could all avoid unnecessary bloodshed.

"Rid town of enemies, those who had paw in death of master's parents."

Carmine nodded and turned to Arlen, whose neck-feathers were fair ruffled. "You've got your warhawks all over Tacksworn?"

"Aye lass, we do," the older griffon said, nodding cautiously in reply.

Carmine turned back to the hounds. "Then you will submit to any pony or any griffon who commands it. If you do not, you will be considered an enemy of Tacksworn. Is that clear?" She glared at the trolls as they grumbled amongst themselves. Finally she repeated again, "Is that clear?!"

Slowly, heads nodded. "Yes, mistress."

"Then show me. Sub—" Carmine swallowed bile. "Submit."

One by one, the trolls crouched down and rolled onto their backs, shivering. Carmine swallowed again, turning away to glare at Arlen. "Is this proof enough?"

Arlen whistled through his beak, relaxing. "It is. No troll will do that willingly, except to—"

"An alpha, or an owner. Tonight, only, they will do it for you. Set them free, kill any who disobey."

Arlen nodded. "Set them free," he said to the griffons surrounding the pack. Reluctantly, the pikes one by one went up, and the circle opened. Arlen nodded his head in curt thanks to Carmine, before addressing the diamond dogs again. "Good hunting, trolls. You will be watched. Spread the word, submit on demand, and you will be spared to hunt for your master."

"This will," Carmine grit her beak, "please me. And please Chip." Don't say thank you, she told herself, they will see it as a weakness. These aren't like Thorn, or Ruff, or Beryl. Chip's right. I hate it, but Chip is right. Kind of.

"We accept," said the hound who had spoken, leaping to his hind paws. His pack followed, and they shouldered their way roughly through the ranks of ponies and griffons, snarling and lunging as necessary to reassert their dominance. They would submit for their owner, for their mistress, and for nobody else.

Arlen watched them go dispassionately. He didn't really get on with diamond dogs, but he he could appreciate them. It was what the Pax Equestrus was about, when it came down to it, appreciation. They had made the effort, so would he. "Spread the word, fine hunters!" he called, to the trolls as much as to his own forces. "We shall feast on the bones of our prey, as brothers!" Arlen spread his wings, speckles shimmering in the afternoon light, as his cry was answered throughout Tacksworn by griffon, pony and troll alike.

♠♣♥♦

There was a hesitant knock on the cave door, followed by a skittering of paws. Sharptooth heaved himself out of his seat to open the great wooden entrance. He exhaled the breath he'd been holding at the sight. Another pile of skins, though thankfully fewer of them this time. He took them in, hoisting them over his shoulder. He'd have to take another bath when he was finished arranging the new trophies in the hoard-room. They needed to be properly cured, so until they could be they would need a preservative spell on them, otherwise they would start to smell.

As he returned from the bowels of the cave, he met Hairpin who had risen at the disturbance. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Must you bring in those awful things?"

"Young Chip was... exuberant with his demands. They are following them, and will continue to follow them until they are satisfied his wishes have been fulfilled."

"And that means you have to drag flayed troll into our home?" Hairpin sniffed disdainfully.

"Yes." Sharptooth groused, as he stalked into the kitchen on all fours, lashing his tail.

"Dragons," Hairpin sighed, rolling her eyes. She watched, bemused, as Sharptooth dragged his perfectly detailed little tea-service into the living room before curling up with it in front of the fire. He set about cleaning it methodically with a rag and various polishes. Hairpin could recognize make-work at two hundred paces with her mane held over both eyes. Something would have to be done. A germ of an idea percolated through her head, and she sidled up to the elder dragon surreptitiously. "You know, I wish Master was bigger. I miss when Pig Iron would groom me. My mane is such a mess."

Sharptooth rumbled indulgently. "May I assist you?"

Hairpin blinked innocently at the dragon. "Would you?"
Sharptooth hissed softly, nodding his head. Hairpin shrugged and settled down between his forepaws. The room grew quiet, the only sound the whisper of her hair through his claws. Soon, Hairpin was leaning into his talons as they raked through the short coat of her barrel and down the length of her mane and tail. Her wings shivered reflexively as he deftly untangled a particularly tenacious snarl. "So who was the lucky mare?" Hairpin asked with a contented sigh, a look of unexpected bliss on her muzzle.

"Hmm?" Sharptooth paused, waking from his daydream.

"Who was she? I doubt you learned the art of pony pedicure from Chip, and there are very few stallions who will stand to be pampered like this."

"She was... somepony I knew a long time ago," replied Sharptooth, his voice melancholy, gaze searching the wall as if he could spy on the past through one of the cracks in the rock.

"What happened?" Hairpin asked gently, unwilling to press the dragon too much, but letting curiosity win.

"She died," replied Sharptooth finally.

"That's not what I mean," Hairpin said, nuzzling at the underside of the dragon's jaw in a bid to comfort him. "Tell me about her."

"She was... my mother."

"Oh," said Hairpin, the surprise visible on her face. "You were—"

"I was adopted," Sharptooth clarified. "When I was just a hatchling, I lived amongst the ruins of the ancient Everfree Castle, amongst the ponies."

"I thought you lived in Canterlot?"

"Oh, I did, but this was long before Canterlot was built." The dragon waved his claws nonchalantly, dismissing close to a thousand years of history with a mere gesture. Hairpin grew silent for a moment, feeling the weight of the years the dragon carried upon his shoulders.

"How come you lived in the Everfree?" she continued.

"Canterlot was not yet built, and us ponies—" Sharptooth stopped, embarrassed at the slip.

"'Us ponies'?" queried Hairpin.

"At the time, I was living with the ponies I called my parents. I guess I—"

"You were a pony, then, as Chip is a dragon now?" Hairpin's muzzle split in a grin at the thought of a diminutive hatchling being doted on by a pony.

Sharptooth paused for a moment, thinking. "In a way, perhaps. They brought me up. They had saved me from certain death at the paws of a tribe of nest-poaching diamond dogs."

"Poaching? Isn't that dangerous?"

"Yes. Very much so. I believe it was the last such major demonstration of power by my people, and it broke apart their nation. It has never quite recovered. After that time, Celestia's Equestrian power was ascendant, and the bad old days of violence and tribal warfare came to an end. I had thought it gone forever."

"Until... well, it's not since yesterday, is it? It's ever since Chip arrived."

The dragon was silent.

"Tell me about your parents."

Sharptooth was reluctant, at first, but never ceased his grooming, and slowly the words came out. "For the first century and a half, I lived with my pony parents. They taught me what they could, what they thought best. Then my dragon patron took me under his wing, and so began my education in draconic ways."

"And they... grew old." Hairpin was silent, trying to imagine a life where all she had known would pass in a seeming instant, whilst she herself stayed the same. It hurt.

"They did." Sharptooth's voice was small, taut. "She was so frail, at the end. My father had long gone, but my mother held on for almost two centuries. I never left her side. And then one day... she stopped."

"I think you loved her very much."

"I did. I do." Strength and resignation returned to the dragon's voice. The past weighed heavily on him, but sharing the burden helped.

"Chip is hurting, Sharpie," said Hairpin, voice low in a whisper.

"And I don't know what to do."

Hairpin laughed softly to herself. "I've had several months to come to terms with my coming bundle of joy. I expect it, now. You, you great and terrible lizard, had no warning. No advice, no support. And it's terrifying, isn't it?" She punctuated each exclamation with a poke of her hooves.

Sharptooth nodded, imperceptibly. "What do I do?"

"It's easy, really. Go to him. Give him what your mother gave you: love." The dragon had stopped grooming her mane. She pulled her head away from his grasp and fixed him with a stern look. "Go!"

Almost sheepishly, Sharptooth unentwined himself from the mare and stood up. "Thank you, Miss Hairpin."

"It's what I do."

"I thought you delivered letters and raced," chuckled the dragon.

"That's what a lot of ponies think, but they're wrong. I get things where they need to be." She smiled. "Now go!"

Nodding, Sharptooth eased himself up onto his hind paws, and stalked up the stairs.

Chip lay forlornly on his couch, huddled under half a blanket. He was too hot under it and too cold on top of it, so he met discomfort half way, and had mostly beaten it so far. One hoof idly scraped along the floor, pushing to and fro the unsightly, off-colour mat that kept his hooves warm in the morning. He stared at the open window, breathing in the fresh cool air, though he couldn't see much through it from where he was situated. He wished he just go out there, but... how could he face them all?

Every time he thought about showing his muzzle in town he just pictured Carmine's expression as she had left him: disgust, fear, and a sad resignation. He was far too ashamed. He had lost her, as he had lost himself. Now, the world out there was empty. It held nothing for him. How could he show his face in Tacksworn again? How could he show his face anywhere in Equestria again? Even Celestia, if she found out, would skin him alive!

It had all been so much simpler a year ago. Mom and Dad, their home, boring lessons, friends... tears he had been holding back flowed once more as he remembered them. He had been pretty happy, really. Everypony was fed up with the drudgery of their lives now and again, he had been too, but all in all he'd been happy. It had been simple. He'd been a pony, an earth pony, fated to take over the Irontail Estate after many, many years. Instead, it had all been taken from him, and some crazy, new destiny dropped on his withers.

He sighed, and heaved himself from the makeshift bed. Listlessly, but on some impulse, he pulled a drawer in his dresser open. In it lay the picture album he'd rescued from his childhood home in Rein. As he took hold of it, several pages fluttered to the floor. Grumbling under his breath, he placed a hoof on them before a stray breeze could whisk them away. He bent to pick them up, and that's when he stopped. His eyes went wide: the first page just held pictures of him with his parents. They were memories precious beyond words, to be sure, but the second was something entirely different. The second was apparently a double-sided piece of parchment, on one side was what looked like a partial rubbing from some sort of engraving, and on the other was a pictoral facsimile of the whole of the first.

He'd seen it before, in his home in Rein. He'd not thought anything of it back then, as he and his friends had been too busy with sorting his belongings to worry about any one single piece of paper. At the time, it had appeared to be nothing more than some sort of keepsake or memento of his parents' travels, but now... now it was something else. Now he knew what had happened to his parents, and why, and he couldn't ignore the burning feeling in the pit of his stomach that this strange message probably had something to do with it.

"Dad!" he called, "Dad, come quick! You have to see this!" He turned and ran to his bedroom door, yanking it open with a hoof, only to find Sharptooth standing there with a confused look on his toothy muzzle and one paw raised to knock.

"Hi, son, I er... came to see how—" Sharptooth began.

"Not now, dad, this is important!" Chip raced back to the piece of paper he'd placed on the dresser and picked it up in his mouth. He hoofed it over to Sharptooth, mumbling, "thiff if imforfanf. Fi founf fit—" he let go as Sharptooth took the page carefully— "I found it in Rein, my parents' house."

Sharptooth turned the paper around several times, cocking his head as he looked at it. "I don't... this is Draconic but..." he trailed off, uncertain.

"It's Draconic?" pressed Chip

"It's in Wyrmtongue, yes, but it makes no sense. It's a collection of syllables and... and noises. It doesn't mean anything."

"What?" Chip's heart sank. "But... I was so sure. So sure. Are you sure? Really? What's it sound like? Maybe it's in some sort of code..." Chip peered at the back of the paper, as if staring would make the odd symbols resolve themselves.

"Aroo, hrurf... gruff... no, grulf..."

Chip's ears pricked up. "Say that again."

"Aroo?"

"Yeah."

"Hrurf grulf?"

"Dad... that's it! There's only one language that sounds like that, and it's not Draconic. It's Trollish!"

"But this is—"

"It was written by dragons, but for diamond dogs. This is Draconic being used to write Trollspeak! I've got to get Ruff! Thanks, Dad! You're the best!" Chip crowed excitedly.

Chip snatched the paper back and stuffed it into a shoulderbag. The kelp-leather pack still held Sharptooth's map, Chip paid it no mind as he threw it around his neck. Grabbing his wings by the straps, he bolted through the door, leaving a bewildered Sharptooth rocking back and forth on his hind paws, not entirely sure of what had just happened.

"You're... welcome," said Sharptooth. In a whisper, he added, "I love you, son."

Hairpin was lying open-mouthed by the fire, the cleaning rag having fallen from her grasp at the speedy passage of Chip, as Sharptooth trundled down the wide stone steps. The green dragon shook his head in mirthful confusion, and went to close the front door.

Hairpin regarded the polishing she had started. The tea-service didn't really need it, and she wasn't very good at it. It could wait. "Whatever you said, it worked. He's gone for Tacksworn, barely managed to put his wings on before he dived over the edge. I'm not sure he did, or that it'll matter."

"I didn't get to say anything," sputtered Sharptooth indignantly.

"Sometimes it's what we don't say that means the most." Hairpin nodded sagely.

"It's not that, it's that he found something. Something important."

"Important?" quizzed Hairpin. At Sharptooth's knowing expression, her muzzle fell open. "Oh, that sort of important. Shouldn't you stop him?"

"And ruin a return to high spirits?" Sharptooth raised an eyeridge at Hairpin, whose expression had turned serious. The dragon seemed to deflate as he sat down on his haunches. "I still haven't informed Celestia about this whole thrice-damned mess."

"Why would you want to tell that old meddler anything? She wouldn't hesitate to bury this entire mountain if she thought it necessary. Why give her reason to? I know what you told Chip, that you would see him dead before sacrificing the Pax Equestrus, but it's not that simple, is it? He's no rogue, he's just a child. Your harsh words did neither you nor him any favours, even less for all they were true."

"I haven't informed Celestia, because I have been calling in every favour I have about that blasted book from the library, the one Celestia bade Ruff translate, and have come up empty. I have no idea where it came from, or when it arrived. It certainly wasn't in the original cache I donated a few centuries ago."

"And you think that book could be dangerous? As dangerous as you thought your map was?"

"It could be," Sharptooth said, scowling. "He was a pup! I thought he would get bored! But he hasn't, he's been translating it for months, and changelings of all creatures followed them here from Stalliongrad! Not to mention other dragons."

Hairpin nodded slowly. "Dragons are trouble when they scheme. And dragons always scheme."

Sharptooth chuckled darkly. "You should know this well."

"Pig Iron schemes better than most, hence his position of power in Stalliongrad. He always appreciated an opponent, said it kept him sharp."

"Distance is never the issue, dear Hairpin, it is power. Akhekhu is powerful, and she is discreet. For all I know, she is working with the changelings." Sharptooth was pacing, Hairpin noted. Something that actively worried a dragon of Sharptooth's stature was trouble indeed. Hairpin decided to look on the bright side.

"Not the way that alpha took off after the one from the library. Thrinn's forces haven't found either of them. Maybe the changeling got away?" Hairpin chewed thoughtfully at her wings.

"I am not sure which is worse," said Sharptooth, stopping his pacing to stare at his claws. He clenched and unclenched them, agitated. Finally, he looked up. "I have decided. I have put the decision off for three days, more than long enough. I will inform Celestia and throw myself upon her mercy even as I beg her assistance and indulgence. The situation I had thought well and truly over, is not. It has been revealed to run greater and deeper than I first thought, and it is escalating far beyond what I alone can handle." Sharptooth spun to head resolutely deeper into the dwelling.

Hairpin leaped to her hooves. The sprightly, sudden gallop as she closed the gap between herself and the dragon was enough to give him pause. He turned to find her looking at him with a very distressed expression on her muzzle, ears back and eyes wide. "Do you... do you think she really would execute Chip?"

Sharptooth turned to her, placing a great claw on her neck, running his talons through her mane reassuringly. "A hatchling? For being manoeuvred into lashing out against a foe more powerful and more insidious than any faced by Equestria itself in millennia? No, no I do not." Sharptooth smiled softly, something akin to pride and sorrow showing in the straightening of his back. "If his actions had been driven by greed and lust for power, then it would have been a matter of honour and combat between him and I. But it wasn't, they were driven by need, fear and desperation, and that is a matter of acceptance and understanding. If I must, I shall stand in his stead, and I know full well the weight of the draconic hegemony stands behind me."

Hairpin blanched, biting her lip. "It really is that desperate?"

"Right now, things are merely desperate. Should this not change, I do not have a word for how serious they may become." Sharptooth turned to go. A hoof on his side stopped him.

"And so you speak to Celestia, and hope she understands?"

Sharptooth sighed, and fixed Hairpin with a piercing gaze. "My kind are brutal and direct, with death the outcome of any argument that cannot be resolved by words. Such brutality is not the way of Celestia, for all she plays the same long game. Her punishments are just, and her judgement tempered with restraint, though they are not lenient. More importantly, however, she will not plunge Equestria into war with Leviathania, nor Griffondom, nor the Troll Nation, over one like Chip."

"What will she do, then?"

"I can hazard a guess, but whatever grace period we may have will soon be up. Should she discover deception, her response will be all the more severe."

♠♣♥♦

Chip backwinged smoothly, rearing up as he shed speed to land neatly in the middle of Tacksworn. Rolling his shoulders and stretching, he felt his wings flip closed and the Bevelmiter tubes simmer down their frantic whirring. Taking stock of the taut air of distrust, he stalked past a number of lowered pikes towards one of his diamond dogs. "You," he called, waving a hoof, "tell me where Ruff is."

The troll flicked his ears, turning to face his owner. "Stonetalker Ruff? Master seeks the Stonetalker?"

Chip blinked twice. "Is that what you call the trick with the rocks?"

"Stonetalking no trick, Master! Stonetalking is... old magic."

Chip rocked back and forth at the words as they hit him like a sledgehammer. The book that had been stolen had talked about diamond dog magic, but Ruff had dismissed it as just a legend. Chip had, too. Everyone had, and in all the excitement he hadn't put two and two together. His mouth suddenly dry, Chip just nodded, "Take me to Ruff."

"Yes, Master."

Chip was led through town, passing by a plethora of newly built shops as well as the one inn which had been rebuilt since burning down the year before. Slowly the taller buildings gave way to shorter, mostly single-story dwellings. The Skychasers, the pegasi couple who had adopted Ruff, lived in an almost-typical earthpony home. There weren't really enough clouds over Tacksworn for the traditional pegasus cloud-palace, but they did have two floors, the upper of which sported a wide balcony without railings. A Tacksworn native diamond dog stood at parade rest outside of the house, with the butt of his spear resting in the dirt. Two little feet swung back and forth over the edge of the platform above.

"What's he doing here?" Chip wondered, aloud.

"He guarding the Stonetalker. Stonetalker need honour guard," Chip's troll answered earnestly.

"Ruff's parents threw him out," retorted Chip, snorting. "I didn't hear many complaints."

"Eternal shame easy to dig into," replied Chip's escort, "harder to dig out of." He stood at attention expectantly.

Chip thought for a moment before speaking again to his slave. "You have done well, and you honour your pack. A-and your master."

The hound almost exploded with happiness, bounding off back to town. Chip made a face where nobody could see. It still made him sick, even though he felt the joy of his pet ring through in his mind. Shaking his head, he turned to walk into the house. In a blur, a spear was lowered across his path, and the native troll stationed outside the door growled menacingly at him.

Chip blinked at the makeshift barrier. Was everything going to be a fight every time he dealt with diamond dogs? "I'm going to count to three," said Chip, "and you're going to lift that spear before I get there." He glared at the troll, who stood impassively by.

"One... two—"

"Let friend Chip in!" called Ruff, from up on the balcony. Immediately, the spear lifted.

"You know I could've just flown up there, right?" asked Chip, looking up flatly. The troll said nothing, looking off into the middle distance. "Right."

Chip pushed open the unlatched wooden door and trotted in. A pink pegasus mare and a chestnut stallion looked up from an early lunch in surprise.

"Oh! Hello, you're that Chip fellow Ruff's always talking about, right?" asked the mare.

"Boy's wearing armour and wings. Who else would he be?" the stallion grunted noncommittally.

The mare waggled her hoof at him. "Now, now, Bruin. It's rude to make assumptions." She turned her attention back to Chip. "Come in, I hope that nice young troll at the door didn't give you any trouble. He scared off the mailmare the other day. I'm Melody, and this is Bruin. It's lovely to finally meet you. Ruff's been talking about you ever since you took him on that trip to... Neighvada, was it?"

"Harrumph, leading the pup astray, more like."

"Come, come, he wasn't quite under our wings then, love. Things are different now."

Chip just stood there, mouth open for a few seconds. "I, er, sorry. Yes. Came to see Ruff."

"Will you be staying for tea?"

"I-I'm not sure," Chip replied hesitantly.

"Will Ruff be staying for tea?" Melody fixed her kind, if piercing, gaze on Chip.

"I'm not sure, Miss Melody," mumbled Chip.

"That's Misses Skychaser," said Melody, standing a little straighter. Then she trotted forwards, and wrapped a wing around Chip's shoulders, "but it's Melody to friends. Fetch Ruff, and we'll have a talk about it."

Chip was ushered to the stairs, which he trotted hesitantly up to the first floor. Emerging from a hallway onto the balcony, he found Ruff idly staring off into the distance. The pup turned and stood up at his approach.

"Hey Chip. You been okay?"

"No," replied Chip, sitting down on his haunches. "Not really. I found something, though. Something that changes everything."

"You think it bring back book?"

"Maybe."

Ruff growled thoughtfully under his breath. "Book one of kind."

"So's this, and only you can read it. Maybe." Chip's eyes were wide, pleading.

Ruff slowly nodded. "What it be, then?"

Chip opened his saddlebags and pulled out the piece of paper. He placed it on the balcony, securing it with a hoof. "Remember this? We found it at my home."

Ruff took it in his paws, turning it around and around. "Can't read it," he said finally, dismissively.

"That's because it's Draconic. But it's Troll."

"What?" Ruff raised both eyebrows, staring at the page intently, his gaze dancing between it and his friend.

"Dad says this bit says... Aroo hrurf grulf." Chip pointed his hoof and recited the sounds as he remembered them.

"Listen, mongrel, warning," said Ruff, perking one ear up.

Chip shivered. "This was written by dragons, Ruff, but for diamond dogs." Chip's hoof tapped Ruff on the shoulder, his eyes intent.

"Ruff no read draconic!" huffed Ruff, throwing his arms up in disgust.

"But I can!" shouted a new voice. Hairpin fluttered down from the sky to land lightly on the balcony. "That sounds interesting. It'll have to wait though, Sharptooth sent me to fetch you, Master. He's going to talk to Celestia."

Chip's heart skipped a beat and he stood up in a flash. "N-no," he said. "I won't. I order you to ignore his request. I order you to read this piece of paper. Aloud."

Hairpin bristled, "Master! It's important!"

"Not yet, then," relented Chip, "but this paper is more important! It could be the key to everything! Why I'm here, why you're here, why Ruff's here! Please, please read it!"

Hairpin sniffed, "I am your humble slave, Master Chip, all you have to do is ask." She chewed her words off acidically. She was a pet, not a slave. To her, the difference was night and day. Her words struck home hard, and Chip flinched. Instantly he was apologetic.

"If you're my friend too, then as a friend, please read this? I... could do with a friend, right now, more than a... a slave."

"This means that much to you?" the pegasus asked. Chip nodded. Hairpin ruffled her feathers, unsure, but nodded back. "Okay, I'll read it. But I don't understand it."

"That okay," said Ruff, "Ruff understand."

Hairpin cleared her throat, and began to enunciate the words on the page. Ruff asked her to stop and repeat several times as her pronunciation was terrible, and some words were more than a little unclear, but the meaning was obvious:

Read these words, mongrel trolls, and heed their warning.

Let this be an example to all who would defy the Pax Equestrus.

To all those who would raise arms against the Draconic Hegemony.

Break the truce, and your packs will be buried as this castle was buried.

Your people will be put to death by the flame, and suffer an eternity of darkness.

"Something happened at my parents' mine," muttered Chip, as Ruff's translated message ended. "No, something is under my parents' mine. Under my mine. That's why they went to the diamond dogs. That's why the diamond dogs are after this. That's probably why Akhekhu—"

"Who?" asked Ruff.

"—I'll explain later. It's why Akhekhu is so interested in me. We've got to get to Rein, we've got to find wherever this message comes from!"

"And then what?" Hairpin asked.

"Something is in that... that castle the warning spoke of, and we have to get there before Akhekhu does."

"But Master, Celestia..." Hairpin rustled her wings, agitated. She swished her tail and turned around, eyes on the sky.

"Celestia will have to wait, because we can't wait for her! She might have... no, but... why wouldn't she..." Chip began to pace.

"Master, calm down. Think what you're saying!"

Chip paced around the balcony. "I don't have all the pieces! Neither does she! What is she looking for?"

"Old Lord Sapphire, he wanted map," stated Ruff.

"No, he wanted the staff," said Chip, "which had the... the map written on it."

"Map is story, yes," agreed Ruff.

"So the book is a map too?" asked Hairpin, glancing from Chip to Ruff and back again.

"But the book spoke about a key!" added Chip, punctuating the memory with a triumphant jab of his hoof in the air.

Ruff chuckled, "Ruff noticed mistake in book. Book written by ponies, not trolls." His ears folded back at the sudden silence, as Chip and Hairpin both turned to stare in shock at the diminutive diamond dog.

"What?!" they both shouted.

"Key... is not key. Map is not map, and staff is not staff."

"What? That makes no sense—" began Chip.

"They all same thing."

"You mean..." Hairpin shared a glance with Chip, who both turned back to look incredulously at Ruff.

"Ruff think maybe diamond dogs search for key, map and staff because Akhekhu not know they same thing. Diamond dogs search for what she ask, not know they not exist."

"So the key to the castle and the map to the castle, is a staff?" Chip asked slowly, light dawning in his eyes.

"And Akhekhu doesn't know. She's looking for a key, and she doesn't know we already have it!" crowed Hairpin.

Chip choked in shock at the realization. "Wait, you're saying... that any staff can be the key?"

"Ruff not know," said Ruff, shrugging.

"Well we're going to find out. Hairpin... I don't want to order you. I wish things were different. It's not who or what I want to be. Please, fetch Penny, Carmine, Bella and Beth. And bring the school's chariot."

"But Master..."

"Please? I just... I want to ask you. I don't want to order you."

"Would you order me?" pressed Hairpin, pushing his muzzle up with a hoof to look into his eyes.

Chip shuffled his hooves, then looked down again, tearing his head out of her grasp. "No, no I wouldn't. Not like that. Not any more. Not you."

"Then I will do as you ask. Just promise me you will go to your father, at some point." Her hoof on his shoulder was weighed down with concern.

"When this is over, yes, I promise." Chip's voice was small.

"Then my obligation to Sharptooth is cleared." Hairpin nodded emphatically.

"Thank you, Hairpin." Chip looked up, and for the first time in days, his heart felt light.

♠♣♥♦

Celestia sat up straighter on her throne at the magical summons, and was careful to apply the small, friendly smile she always wore when dealing with the many ambassadors within her realm. She was calm, she was serene. She was the very picture of amiability. It helped that answering the call meant she could toss out the taxation amendments her ministers were trying to get her to agree to. Ever since she'd caught them sniping at each other, levying import duties to exert a stranglehold on their rivals – which was only hurting the national productivity score and impoverishing the workers – she'd taken a closer look at things. Taxation was important, but not without representation.

Anyhow, she reminded herself with a quick flick of her head, her attention was being sought most urgently. Idly, she wondered who it was before checking to see. Guessing was half the fun. With a moue of distaste, she realized she had been flat wrong. It wasn't the griffons about their uncommonly fierce winter storms, it was the dragons. Ambassador Sharptooth, in fact. This disturbed her for some reason, chills sweeping down her back. Activating the answering spell, a globe of light appeared before her, and the relatively young visage of her old acquaintance came into full relief.

"Sharpie, my dear friend! An urgent call, from you? How disquieting."

"Celestia, your Highness," said the image of Sharptooth.

Uh oh. "Yes, Ambassador?"

"Are we alone?"

With a nudge of her magic, she displaced herself to her private quarters, the globe following. "We are now."

"I... must present myself for arrest."

"Arrest?" Celestia blinked.

"My son—" Sharptooth looked both ashamed, fearful and resentful. Celestia wasn't sure which emotion belonged to whom. She made another moue of distaste.

"Oh what has the scamp done now?"

"The worst thing possible," the dragon replied coolly.

Celestia was immediately alert. "Go on." Her voice was measured, cool. Her mask was gone, replaced with seriousness of intent.

"Tacksworn came under attack, despite the local militia, and my son has responded in kind. He has taken full, personal control of his forces and is marshalling them to the defence of Tacksworn."

"Defence? Against whom? Your son raises forces and has them marshalled?"

"I bid your sufferance, for it is not against Equestria. It is against a dragon."

Celestia sighed deeply. Taxation would have been so much more preferable than an implicit act of war. "Tell me, that I may judge the crimes of your errant foundling."

"I claim the right of substitution." Sharptooth's voice was cold and direct, and he would brook no duplicity.

"Granted." Celestia's expression hardened. The stakes had been laid, and the game was in session.

"Then I shall continue. He has taken for his own about six gross of diamond dogs and enslaved them to his will. He seeks out now those of the pack which laid his family low, and caused you to bring him to me."

"He has broken the pact?" Celestia almost hissed the words, so shocked was she.

"He has, though he had no choice. This was no mere contract, and it was no single occurrence, but he raises no army—"

"Eight hundred diamond dogs is not a trifle, ambassador. You know this." Celestia glared, her anger riled. Sharptooth was dismissive, and did not rise to the bait.

"I also know a single battalion of your troops would raze them to the ground within hours, faster should you see fit to send a blademaster or two, or a platoon of battlemages."

Celestia scowled, raising a hoof which she levelled at the apparition before her. "The contract rights of dragons are uncontested in my lands, Ambassador Sharptooth. Even such contracts as would bind the will of another, but close to a thousand souls enslaved by magical geas, in my realm? This is not something I take lightly."

Sharptooth crossed his paws across his chest, unfazed. "And I remind you I have diplomatic immunity, and have requested the right of substitution."

"I could strip you of both of those rights, ambassador," grumbled Celestia, nettled.

Sharptooth nodded, unrepentant. "Do as you will, but you will not harm a hair on his head."

Celestia was silent for a moment, she closed her eyes in contemplation. "I had better come down there. I shall bring a complement of guards. Should I see it necessary, you will be either confined to quarters or arrested and taken to Canterlot."

"So long as my son is held blameless, and not left unprotected." The dragon leaned forwards. His steely gaze was unwavering.

"I shall make no promises, save that I am not about to plunge Equestria into war for what appears to be civil strife between dragons. My armies shall respond as necessary, have your son stand down and prepare for my arrival."

"Then I shall await you."

"Upon the morrow, then."

"Agreed."

The globe of light vanished, and Celestia brought an immaculate hoof to her temple. She rubbed it in slow circles, sighing. Getting up from her wide and luxurious bed, she crossed the room. With a wave of her horn, she opened her chamber's doors and stepped into the cavernous hallway that led along the Royal Gardens. It appeared to be empty. She sniffed, loudly and derisively. "Tell my sister I do not appreciate her thestrals spying from the rafters outside my bedroom. It is most unseemly."

There was no noise, but the corridor was suddenly somehow emptier. A single, solitary grey feather floated down. She smiled to herself. She hadn't been entirely sure, but the hunch had paid off. She found it hard to contain her mirth as she made her slow, sedate way along the now-empty corridor and into a marble flagstone courtyard. Luna's Intelligence Service thestrals were discreet and dedicated, but they were often predictable.

Heading through a wide stone arch and down some relatively spartan stone steps, she headed towards the barracks. She was unfazed at the organized chaos of the barracks, it was even less organized and more chaotic than normal, as what had to be a hearty training session was in progress. At least, that's what the official report would say.

After the majestically slow walk through the castle and entering the inner barracks, she encountered what could only be called a solid wall of noise. Every square inch of space was taken up with what appeared to be an earnest fight to the death between her Day Guards and Luna's Night Guard thestrals. Her own troops represented earth, pegasus and unicorn races. Luna's creatures, on the other hoof, embodied all three in a single being.

The initiation spells were a secret, even to her, but the silly things were forever changed by them. Since Luna's return, several lost bands of thestrals had reappeared at the gates of Canterlot. They had been breeding true for the last thousand years, doing their best to blend in or at least stay out of trouble. It was telling, perhaps, that more than a few of them had been battle hardened and scarred long before acceptance into Luna's personal forces. She had to admit though, for all that they sported fangs, tufted ears and dragon-like batwings, they were friendly and courteous. They just loved to get into mischief, however, not to mention fights. She wasn't sure if their boisterous, foalish natures were a good or bad influence on her own, sometimes dourly taciturn, guards, but she had to admit it had livened up the palace.

Celestia strode through the center of the bedlam, ducking and swaying as necessary to avoid errant kicks and whirling axes and ballistic claymores. She would have a word with Shining Armor later, training should mean somewhat less bloodshed, less biting, and a bit more finesse. As she closed the door to the dormitories, a flail embedded itself in the door's wooden panels, spikes smashing through to the other side. Celestia tapped them thoughtfully with one golden, gilded hoof. Yes, definitely a bit more finesse.

There were more thestrals sleeping in the dormitories. They had no beds, as such, and were just lying in a heap of legs, wings and tails on top of a mound of pillows, blankets and mattresses. Most of them were snoring. Their armour, however, was pristine. It hung from hooks or stood waiting on racks, perfection itself. Work hard, play hard, sleep hard. That seemed to be their motto, far more than Vivas Noctus.

"They are carefree, like foals, are they not, dear sister?" asked Luna, emerging from the shadows.

Celestia inwardly grinned. If her sister was here, plans were already in motion. There were, however, images to be maintained. She raised an eyebrow. "They are indeed like foals, Luna. Is it seemly that they serve you thus?"

"I would have ponies see my guards as foalish, and by extension myself also, than return to being hated and feared."

"Quite, though you should teach them better the arts of obscuring themselves. I caught at least one outside my chambers just now."

"At least I have the courtesy of ordering them be inconspicuous, unlike those two statues you place outside my quarters as 'honor guards' to protect my virtue."

"Touché, my dear sister. So, what is your council on the Tacksworn situation?"

"Tacksworn? I have never heard of the place." Luna picked at her hooves, innocently.

"Luna..." Celestia stared hopefully at her sister. She needed assistance now, far more than a sparring partner.

"And if I had, I doubt I would go there. It sounds so dreadfully far away and dull. Almost certainly not worth my time."

"I see." Celestia pondered that answer. It almost certainly meant she should just decide to do nothing.

"But go to this... Tickshaven—"

"Tacksworn." Celestia corrected, rolling her eyes as her sister laid it on 'a bit thick'.

"—If you must. Shall I take the Day Court?" Luna asked, impishly as much as innocently, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Will you place your thestrals around the grounds, to mark your temporary ascension to my throne?"

"Of course."

Celestia giggled despite herself, as did Luna. "Oh good. I do so wish I could see the faces of those pompous old windbags from the House. Make sure your lunar stallions brush their teeth and floss. You know how a nice smile brings out the best in ponies."

"Your command is my wish, oh dear sister."

Celestia briefly nuzzled Luna's ear before trotting onwards to her destination, the Day Guard Officer's Lounge. She would need no more than a squad, with a platoon following at a discrete distance should things not run quite as smoothly as planned. This, of course, was likely, since Luna had been so completely uninterested in the place.

She scowled. What was her sister not telling her?

♠♣♥♦

Author's Note

This time I'm going to thank everypony who ~~is to blame~~ helped edit this chapter properly. They came through, they hammered down such a wall of comments that I freaked out rather majorly trying to go through them all. I think I got everything, and because of them this is, really, so much better than it would have been.

I'm a terrible pony for not knowing who exactly is who, since gdocs doesn't always match up, and some folk have done a whole lot more than others, but I am grateful to every helpful comment. Basically, I can't thank them enough, so go stare creepily at these folk for me :heart:

maskedferret
Nyerguds
EricKilla
Lazygamer313
Caliaponia
Jake the Army Guy
Forevermore
AntiquatedAnnomaly
Fangwarden
BritBrony

And if I've not said thank you enough, yell at me so I can :pinkiecrazy:

EDIT: BritBrony was there too! :heart:

The Darkness Under the Hill

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═══════════════════════════════════

Chapter 18
The Darkness Under the Hill
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

♠♣♥♦

Chip hung his head as he sat on his haunches amid the silent circle of his friends. His eyes were closed, his back was straight. His wings were furled, though stray flecks of agitation stealing through his mind had his arcane muscles whirring madly. Hairpin had done as she had been asked, and had collected together the rest of his friends. They stood before him now, waiting for him to explain himself. Ruff, in a show of solidarity, stood next to him, one paw on his shoulder.

Missus Skychaser had an astute sense of when a pot of coffee was needed. The pink pegasus had briefly considered tea, but the camomile blend she preferred was better for calming down with at night before bed. Coffee was for planning and execution, and if ever there was a time for sharp minds to come together, this would be it. She walked out of the kitchen, through the confrontational group of youngsters, and placed the tray she was carrying on her back onto her sturdy oaken table.

"Now," she asked clearly, "would anybody like a biscuit?"

For a moment, the absurdly cheery question hung in the tense air before being dispersed by a brief chuckle from Hairpin. "I would! Do you have any hobnobs?"

"Oh, yes, dearie, with Indoneighsian chocolate no less!"

"Can... can Ruff have one too?"

"Of course, my love, but not the chocolate ones." Melody stared meaningfully at Ruff until he blushed. Then she tapped her hoof against her muzzle thoughtfully. "This calls for the emergency box, I believe. I won't be a moment." The pegasus trotted back through the group to the kitchen. "Do relax, make yourselves at home," she called as she passed through the doorway. "I think they're at the back of the pantry—" Mumbling to herself, Melody's voice faded away as she disappeared into the depths of her mystical lair of eateries.

Chip looked up, trying not to laugh, and met Carmine's gaze.

"Car—" Chip began.

"Chip—" said Carmine.

"You first," they both said.

"Oh good grief," said Bella. "Chip, you're a butt. Car, you've been a miserable sod. Both of you stop acting like freshly-shelled fledges, and kiss and make up."

"I, er, I'm sorry," said Chip, eyes searching Carmine's for forgiveness. "I was scared. I was angry. I didn't know what to do, so I did the only thing I could do."

"...And I understand that, Chip. I forgive you. It's been a crazy few days. Some of the diamond dogs – some from Tacksworn even – got... mind-wiped by that changeling-thing. They've been fighting, we've been... kept in at night. Today was the first day they've even let us out of the nest. Not hunting is driving me stir-crazy."

"Biff, Sparky, Dodger... they were all..." Beth spread her wings, gesticulating as she sought to find the words.

"They died," said Bella, slowly. "That changeling got inside their heads and... and... pulled their minds out. They weren't the same. When your trolls got back, Chip, they went for them."

There was silence again for a moment, before Mister Skychaser spoke up from his seat on the sofa. He patiently and neatly folded his copy of the Tacksworn Daily up before placing it down on an end-table. "It's been a rum year, lad, but what these fine fillies are trying to say is it's not your fault. It's a rot at the heart of things—"

"And I brought it here," said Chip, glaring.

"Not true, lad." Mister Skychaser stood up from his seat in front of the fire. "It followed you, but it's not your fault. I heard what you did, we all heard. Can't say as I understand it fully, and can't say I agree with it—"

"I don't either," said Chip, bitterly, his lip turning up in disgust at his own actions.

"Be that as it may, with that great lump of a hound outside our front door because of young Ruff here, I feel safe. If your trolls can be trusted—"

"Now at least," agreed Chip.

"Stop interrupting, lad! This is important." Bruin Skychaser poked a hoof at Chip, before stomping it on the floor for emphasis.

"Sorry." Chip dropped his gaze.

The elder stallion stared at the youngster until he was sure Chip wouldn't interrupt again, before continuing. "If your trolls can now be trusted, then we are better than we were. That changeling... I won't lie, it spooked me. I dare say, had I no other way to know the difference between friend and foe, I might just do as you did."

"I... agree," said Carmine, hesitantly. "That's what I've been wanting to say, that I understand. I hate it, I wish there were another way, but I understand."

"There is another way," said Chip, "but it's far harder to do. That's why I wanted to speak to you all, and why we don't have much time."

"Time?" Bella perked her ears up, sharing a puzzled look with Penny, who shrugged.

"Hairpin says Dad wants to see me. She says he told Celestia, that means she's coming here, and she's coming here to get me. I can't let her do that." Chip held up a hoof as Hairpin darted forwards, mouth opening to speak. "Let me finish, 'Pin, please? Celestia doesn't know about what's been going on here, not as much as we do, and she won't be able to act in time to fix it. If I'm right, the answer to everything is under a mine I own in Rein, Neighvada. We have to get there before a dragoness called Akhekhu can."

"Akhekhu?" asked Bella, rolling the unfamiliar word around in her mouth.

"Bless you," sniggered Penny.

"Knock it off," snapped Bethany, glaring at the younger pegasus. "Go on, Chip."

"She's some sort of... she kind of is the Sapphire Reaches somehow. When I... when I killed Swiftwing," Chip hesitated a moment, and Hairpin nuzzled him softly, expression soft and comforting, "...I became able to take the clan as my own, but I'm just... me." Chip shrugged his shouldeulders helplessly. "She's an ancient, powerful dragoness. If she wants this clan, she can take it, and I don't think I can stop her. Worse," Chip's gaze hardened, and his voice lowered, "she killed my parents. And she killed them because of what's under that mine."

"What, are you sure?" exclaimed Carmine, darting forwards.

Chip nodded, "I'm sure. It's all starting to make a twisted sort of sense. I've come to a few conclusions. Diamond dog society is very old, and it survived without books for centuries. They don't have maps or books from long ago. They have songs," he said, looking each of his friends in the eye, noting how Ruff nodded, "and tales."

Hairpin put two and two together. "Oh, Master... that staff and the book... it's the same thing, isn't it?"

Chip nodded again. "Written down by ponies, it talks about a key, a map and a staff... but they're the same thing, though the parts on the staff must be... simplified. We have the staff from Miskha, and I think it can open some sort of fortress which is buried under my mine. And I think it's got the diamond dog king's jewels in it. We have to get to them before Akhekhu does." Chip turned to his pegasus pet beseechingly. "That's all I'm asking, Hairpin. I could order you, but I already said I don't want to. No more orders, not unless I have to. I-if you say no, I'll... I'll go to Dad like you want."

Hairpin nodded, slowly. "I know dragons, master. They are trouble. If you need me—"

"I do."

"—Then I will help you." Hairpin bowed her head reverently, eyes closed.

"Are you all with me, then?" Chip looked around at his friends, feeling hope rising in his chest. "Together, we can end this. We get to Rein, find the castle, and we either make sure it can never be opened again, or we open it to get the king's jewels, and we give them to Celestia, or to anybody, anybody other than Akhekhu, because if she gets them, it will be war."

"And... after that?" asked Hairpin, meekly, eyes wide and searching.

"I... don't know. The only thing I do know is that I don't want to be like Akhekhu. I've done something wrong, something terrible, and I have to make up for it, no matter the cost. I will give myself up to Celestia. Dad says she'll be merciful. I have to hope he's right. If I can... if I can just get the jewels, I can show her why I did all this!" Chip stomped a hoof, flicking his armoured tail against his ever-present haunch-guard, causing a riotous clash of sound.

Carmine breathed out heavily. "I'm with you, Chip, and... I trust you to do the right thing in the end."

Chip whipped his head up, his heart beating double time. "You mean it?"

"What?" asked Carmine, blushing, her neck feathers ruffling up.

"You trust me?" Chip's voice was small as he moved to stand in front of her, eyes wide and searching.

"I do. You're a great, big... dumb... dufus. And..." Carmine's head-crest and neck-feathers fluffed up in a griffon-blush as her words slowed.

"Car," spluttered Beth, "spit it out. We all know you're practically married."

"Ugh!" Carmine's neck-feathers ruffled further. "My parents and their dumb ideas; it's just a promise that if things keep on... going okay..."

"And I hope they do," said Chip, grinning.

"—that one day, you and I might... you know. Start dating for real. But I'm not gonna do it because of my parents, whatever they think. I don't care if it's traditional!"

"Wait, aren't... you know, stallions supposed to ask?" muttered Chip.

Bethany rolled her eyes. "Boy, have you got a lot to learn about griffons."

"Before that, though, you've got to sort out who you are." Carmine fixed Chip with an unwavering gaze, and she pressed a talon into his chest. "You did what you felt you had to do, and it was wrong, and I hate it. For a while, I even hated you, but it's not that easy, is it? None of this is your fault, you've been forced into a corner."

"All of this, everything... you, me, dad... Hairpin," Chip looked at the pegasus, who smiled suddenly, hoofing Chip in the side.

"So much joy from sadness, so much that is right from what is wrong," she said. "It gives me hope that this will be resolved."

"I hope so," replied Carmine. "This whole mess... it's bad enough for us down here in Tacksworn. If this were to spread across Equestria... if somebody were to have control of all the diamond dogs..." Carmine shivered.

Melody chose that moment to trot back into the living room. "Here are the biscuits. Ruff, love, these are for you." She hoofed over a special bowl for Ruff. staring in appraisal at Chip, the mare addressed Carmine brightly. "If you ask me, Miss Wildfeather, with a few years on him, this boy will turn out fine. He just needs friends to show him the way, he shouldn't have to go it alone. You'll want to keep a wing over him, he's got a good heart."

"Does everyone have an opinion on me and Carmine?" exploded Chip. He facehoofed when just about everyone nodded, even Ruff who was muzzle-deep in a pile of diamond dog-safe snacks.

"Well," grouched Chip, nonplussed, "anyway. This is the plan: we get to Rein, get in, get out. And we do it together, and we do it now. So, once more, who's with me?"

Chip raised a hoof, extending it. Everybody joined a hoof, paw or a claw to the circle. Chip shared a grin with the rest of the gang. "Right then! Saddle up!"

"Right after you've finished your refreshments," cautioned Melody Skychaser. "Can't go rushing off half-cocked, can we?"

She fixed the group of friends with a stern expression until they answered with a solid "No, Missus Skychaser."

♠♣♥♦

The early morning sky was filled with wing-beats as a platoon of armoured pegasi followed unswervingly after their princess. Four of the strongest pegasi pulled her chariot, and an honor guard flew ahead. They were fast, they were precise, and their expressions were stoic.

None, however, were quite so stoic as Celestia herself. A brief – very brief – altercation outside of the little town of Tacksworn had resulted in a squadron of griffons escorting them in through an otherwise strongly-enforced no-fly zone. She briefly considered making it a none-flying-other-than-her-own-ponies zone, and flash-frying the buzzards that surrounded her – very briefly. Very, very briefly. She could probably get away with it, too, with some excuses about surprise attacks and grave mistakes. She entertained the idea only because it helped alleviate the stress of being defied in her own lands, then threw it summarily out. It wouldn't do to start being vengeful now. Besides, the dragon had promised his charge would be there to answer to his crimes.

The problem was that even with Celestia's phenomenally keen, magically enhanced eyesight, she could only spot one dragon in the remote town, and that one dragon seemed intent on scaring the innards out of what appeared to be a diamond dog, wearing a collar.

"Down." The order was given softly, barely audible above the rushing of wings, but it was effected immediately. The parade banked and dipped groundwards, with Celestia pulling up sharply yet smoothly a few feet behind a bristling Sharptooth.

"Ambassador, how wonderful to meet you again." Celestia's voice was prim and proper, and her gaze hard, either holding but a little mirth.

"I wish I could say the same, but I am having a small issue with the local, recently-drafted militia in the land." Sharptooth didn't look up from where he was looming over his prey.

"Oh?" Celestia circled around slowly, waving off her guards, who adopted strategic vantage points barely out of wing-range.

"Whilst my errant and notably absent son may own this worthless hunk of flesh, I own Tacksworn, and by extension command both him, and his pets." Sharptooth snarled, smoke rising from his nostrils as he held the troll out at claw's reach by his chest-fur, glaring intently as the creature's legs kicked in the air. Celestia watched as the hound in question wet himself. Sharptooth reacted with disgust and threw the creature into the puddle of his own wastes.

"I gather you are having obedience issues with your offspring, as well as these... pets of his?" chided Celestia, some of her humour returning despite her distaste of the situation. She was being defied, but it would do no good to appear more distraught than the ambassador, and in all truth it was Sharptooth who was currently bearing the brunt of the insult. Now she was here, the more dire aspects seemed almost comedic.

"I at least am at your command, Princess. That will have to suffice." Sharptooth raised himself up to his full height.

"So, that's a yes. What is the issue, exactly?" Celestia's eyes danced with a modicum of repressed amusement. It wasn't often that a... a hatchling – she rolled the word around in her mind to see how it fit – managed to vex either her or her acquaintances, yet the youngster Chip appeared to have become excessively resourceful.

"They have been ordered not to tell me exactly where my son is," replied Sharptooth, witheringly.

"Then mayhap they may tell where he was?" Celestia smiled sweetly. The diamond dog pointed up the road, whimpered, and ran. Celestia nodded to herself. "Come, Ambassador. We have much to discuss."

"Am I under arrest?"

Celestia paused thoughtfully then shook her head. "No. Do you wish to be?"

"If I am to properly chastise my son for his bad behaviour, no. So maybe I should be."

"Hmm..." Celestia walked onwards, slowly. Her guards followed at a respectful distance, glaring daggers at any troll, griffon or pony who wasn't scared completely incontinent at their supreme show of force. Unfortunately, having dealt with dragons and rogue diamond dogs, most townsfolk just turned out to gawk at the sight. One enterprising stallion even started selling snacks and balloons, much to the sergeants' dismay.

Sharptooth furled his wings, and swallowed his flame as he ambled slowly along next to the alicorn princess. "My son went out yesterday, and did not come back. I waited for him until sun-up, and then I decided to come find him."

"So long?"

"Truth be told," Sharptooth said sheepishly, "I was waiting mostly for you."

Celestia hid her laughter behind a demure cough, covering her muzzle with a single gold-clad hoof as her retinue came to a halt at an intersection. "Ask another troll where young Chiphoof was last seen, would you, Sharpie?"

"My pleasure, your highness," said Sharptooth acidly, smoke curling out of his nostrils as he rounded on another troll.

"Not too much pleasure, I hope, washing my armour off is such a chore."

The slow yet mostly dignified procession – minus the parts which included screaming diamond dogs and uncontrolled expulsion of bodily fluids – made its way through Tacksworn until the Princess and Sharptooth found themselves outside the groundfloor door of a nondescript pony dwelling complete with balcony on the first floor. There was a diamond dog guard standing outside it. For a fraction of a second, the troll began to lower the spear across the door.

Celestia was quicker than Sharptooth, lightly touching it and lifting it upwards. "I wouldn't," she said in a whisper, twitching an ear at the fuming dragon, "he's liable to make you eat it. Stand at attention and salute as we enter, and my own guards won't have to have a word with you about assaulting the royal personage, okay?"

There was an imperceptible nod, and the diamond dog – rattling like a tin of spoons in an earthquake – ushered the princess and the dragon inside. Sharptooth growled low as he passed, causing another bout of impromptu territory marking.

The door was small, too tight for his frame if truth be told, but he squeezed as much of himself in as he could anyhow. Once inside, most of the furniture proved both too near and too small to be used even if he could make it comfortable. Besides, the majority of his hips stayed out in the street, along with his tail.

Melody Skychaser fair exploded with pride as the princess sat down in her chaise longue and complimented her on the decor. The pink pegasus had disappeared into the kitchen almost immediately to make a pot of tea, which she eventually served in her finest china. Angry dragons and unamused princesses definitely called for tea.

Bruin Skychaser would have made his excuses and left for work, except that the front door was decidedly blocked. The first floor balcony wasn't much use either, filled as it was with armoured pegasi. Instead he settled for 'temporary house arrest', as he mentally put the situation, and decided to make the best of it. Assuming he wasn't gelded for crimes against the crown, it would be one heck of a story to tell the grandkids. Or grandpups, assuming the princess didn't turn Ruff into a rug when she inevitably caught him.

"I hear you've a new addition to your family, Mister and Missus Skychaser?" asked Celestia sweetly, taking a sip of the aromatic tea. She made soft exclamations of satisfaction and swallowed demurely.

"Hmm?" called the housewife from the kitchen as she hunted for cake. "You mean young Ruff? Yes, a lovely pup. Spot of bother with his original parents, but we don't let that sort of thing bother us."

"Has he been settling in well to his new home?"

"Oh yes, plenty of new friends; especially that nice young dragon, Chip."

"I hear they came for a visit yesterday," said Celestia smoothly. Melody almost dropped the cake tin.

Bruin turned dark eyes on the princess. "Now don't you go upsetting the wife, Your Highness. Young Chip and his friends have done us no wrong."

Celestia nodded, reaching her magic out to steady the tin and bring it into the living room, where she neatly deposited it on the table. She patted the sofa and gestured for Melody to join her on it. As Melody did so, Celestia lifted the teapot with her magic, raising one eyebrow in question. Melody nodded, shaking.

"Forgive me if this sudden, unexpected visit is stressful for you. It is a mere house-call, is all," said Celestia, gently, her musical voice soothing and friendly. She poured the worried pegasus mare a fresh cup and floated it over. Taking another small sip from her own cup, she exhaled with a happy sigh. "This is wonderful tea. Do you mix it yourself?"

"Oh, n-no," replied Melody, "I purchase it from Mwafu, a wandering zebra who comes through here every so often. It's her secret recipe. I find it calms me."

"Then I do urge you to have some. I am aware the situation in this town—"

"Then you should be aware," interrupted Bruin, bruskly, "that young Chip is not the cause, but may be the solution to it."

Celestia blinked. "I see. I would have... words with Chip of the Diamond Expanse. Pray tell me, where is he?"

"Right as I can tell, the young lad went East, though he spoke of needing something from some place called 'Ponyville'. I can say one thing more, your highness; the lad thinks the world of his dad, and is right scared of you. He does what he does for the good of Equestria, of that you can be sure. And your taking him to some dark fate in Canterlot rides contrary to that."

Sharptooth grumbled under his breath. "I feared this might be the situation. He has flown the coop, Celestia, and whilst I know where he has gone, I know not where it will lead him."

"I suggest we find him then, before whatever other forces he runs from catch him." Celestia sighed gently, and turned to face her old friend. "I assure you, Sharptooth, that I am the most conscientious of captors. You need not fear for his welfare or safety whilst under my control."

"Good, good. I was... rather sure it would be thus," replied the dragon, clasping his foreclaws together in agitation and worry. "Forgive me, he is a true child of my egg, however strange his manner of birth. I would have him safe, hale and hearty above all else, including my own life."

"Then, my dear friend, we should find him."

"Alas, I think that may be diff—" Sharptooth broke off his answer at a sudden scrabbling of hooves from the upstairs balcony. There was a series of loud exclamations and urgent hoofsteps, followed by a set of rhythmical thumps as something heavy bounced down the stairs. Moments later, a pegasus tumbled out of the hallway to land heavily on his back up against the far wall.

"Your highness!" cried the breathless messenger, wriggling ineffectually to right himself. The dragon blocking the door had kept him out of the main entrace, but it would not prevent him from fulfilling his duty. "Your highness! There is trouble in Neighvada!"

"Trouble?" Celestia stood tall above the prone pony, looking him straight in the eye.

With one wing, the stallion fished out a short missive, which he hoofed over to Celestia. "I think... I think you have to read this."

♠♣♥♦

The little chariot swept low over the outskirts of Neighvada City. Thunder rolled in the distance, pulled in by a cold, whistling wind. The bright lights of the big city called to them, illuminating the underside of the distant stormclouds, but that wasn't their destination. Penny and Hairpin, the latter huffing and puffing far more than she had a few months ago, banked south east at a shout of recognition from one of the figures in the chariot, and slowed. It was a short trip by air, and the late afternoon sun behind them was low in the West.

Greater Neighvada's countryside was much like Tacksworn: there wasn't much of anything other than scrubland and brush for miles, just a flat expanse of weather-beaten tundra. It wasn't until nearer Neighvada City that the monotony was broken by the outlying subsumed farms.

As the chariot descended, something else became visible. Marked by a shimmering heat-haze that radiated from its smooth surface, a monotonous streak of blacktop asphalt appeared, along which trawled a good many large wagons full of metals, precious gems, and roughly-hewn rock blocks. The disheveled yet hearty groups of teamsters looked up at the little chariot swooping overhead, though most just shrugged and moved on. There were deliveries to make and their loads weren't getting any lighter. Though the sun was going down, their shift wouldn't be over for many long hours. They didn't get paid to gawk at the scenery.

"I think I see it," Chip said, squinting and pointing with a hoof. "I've been here a few times; once or twice in the past few years for the company Hearth's Warming and Summer Sun celebrations. There's an abandoned stripmine out a bit further that way," Chip pointed in another direction, rotating his hoof in a generally Southerly direction. "Dad paid some pegasi to fill it with water. It's a brill place to cool off in summer, you can see all the way to the bottom. Dad says... said... it's the salt." Chip lowered his hoof, and huddled into the blanket that covered the three figures in the back of the flying chariot.

"Can't... drink it?" huffed Hairpin

"Not from there, no," Chip said, "but there's plenty to drink at the mine. Lugging those carts about and breaking the rocks is thirsty work, even when unicorns help. We've dug deep enough to find plenty of water."

"Good," groused Hairpin. "This is the last time in a while I'm dragging you lot and my one plus."

"Sorry Pin," apologized Chip. "Sorry, Pen. Last time, I promise."

"You said that," huffed Penny, "before."

Chip's eyes gleamed. "This time I mean it."

Penny and Hairpin came in for a long, slow landing outside the beaten-up mass of corrugated iron which stood for the foreman's hut. He was a pastel green earth pony with a brown mane, which stuck out wildly from beneath the brim of a bright yellow hard hat he wore which matched his cutie mark. At the commotion and shouts of surprise from the workers, he bustled out, still chewing on a cigar.

"Hey, hey, yo, what's up wid—" the stallion stopped as he spied two lovely pegasus fillies, two dangerous-looking (yet, he had to admit, also lovely) young griffon chicks, a fine unicorn filly, a diamond dog and a strange pony wearing the strangest set of saddle- and haunch-protection gear he'd ever seen... and there was something oddly familiar about the last one.

"Yo, you can't leave dat here, scram! What you think you'se doin'?"

"Hey, tough guy, who're you?" Hairpin puffed her chest out as she slipped free of the chariot.

"Me, I'm the forepony, Hardhat. Who the heck's you? Walkin' round like you own the place..."

Hairpin's grin widened, ever so slightly. Hardhat's tail swished. It was going to be one of those afternoons.

Clearing his throat and fully intending to get the interloping lollygaggers a piece of his mind, Hardhat stepped forwards. Only... something wasn't quite right. "'Ere, don't I know you, kid?"

"Kind of," Chip said as he stretched. "I haven't been around for a while. I never really did see much of the place, Dad didn't let me run around on my own, said it was too dangerous."

"Dad..?" Hardhat's muzzle fell open, the well-chewed cigar falling to the dirt. Empty muzzle chewing wordlessly on nothing for a few seconds, the forepony shook himself and galloped inside his little shack. He slammed the door and then, a few seconds later, pulled on the haynetian blinds with a hoof to stare at the group before moving to fetch something out of view.

Chip shared a glance with his friends, then headed for the door. It wasn't locked. Pulling it open, he called out, "Come on guys, we need to talk with him."

"Beth and I'll stay outside," said Carmine. "We'll keep watch."

"Not gonna be much room in there, Chip, I'll stay out here too," added Hairpin. Penny gestured with a hoof for Chip to just go, so he went in ahead, with only Bella and Ruff joining him.

Inside the cramped and busy shack, Chip found Hardhat looking incredulously at a picture of his father Rusty, mother Rose, and Hardhat himself. His mother held, in a baby-carrying pannier, a small beige foal with a blond mane.

"So, you know who I am, now?"

Hardhat nodded. "You've got your father's eyes and your mother's mane, lad." He put the picture down carefully then drew out a small crystal shot-glass. Pulling a drawer open with a hoof, he lifted out a decanter and poured a measure of something smelling faintly of apples and quite strongly of liquor. Seeing Chip's expression, he pointed a hoof. "Want some? No, I guess... bit too young, eh?"

"If you've got any gems?"

Hardhat snorted. "So, you're here to pillage the family legacy, huh?" He threw a small bag of gems disdainfully onto the rickety table, dislodging a few pieces of paper. Chip put a hoof on the bag and lipped the drawstring open. Taking a single gem in his teeth, he rolled it around in his mouth, chewed and swallowed, sighing happily.

The earth pony gaped, his mouth flapping uselessly like a fish out of water. Finally, he began to use words. "Did you just..? What did you..." His eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What are you?"

Chip's ears splayed out, "Ah, I guess I... umm..."

"It's a long story, Mister Hardhat," interjected Bella, "just believe me, this is Chip."

Hardhat swallowed. "They s-said you were dead... I mean the official line is you went with Celestia, but we all just figured... did you really just..?"

"Eat a gemstone. Yeah, I did. It's a dragon thing. Like she said, long story."

"A dragon thing?" Hardhat whistled. "You'd better spill the beans, kid."

"We don't have time, we've got to get moving. I'll tell you on the way, if I can."

"Time? Where are you going? What are you doing here?"

Chip levelled his gaze at the older stallion for a few moments, then looked over at Bella before looking back at Hardhat. "Bella, I'm going to need your help. Can you... lower your horn?"

"Sure, what're you—"

Chip stuck out his hoof and jabbed it against Bella's horn, not breaking eye-contact with the forepony. Wincing and drawing it back, he showed the bead of red blood to the stallion. "I'll need you to do the same, Hardhat."

Hardhat blinked, then emptied his shot-glass with a single tilt of his head. slamming the shot glass down, he asked, "What's this abo—"

"Now," Chip added, forcefully, his voice level. He glared, and Hardhat shrunk back as the kid's magi-mechanical wings rustled dangerously. There was a heat there, Hardhat noted, a steel, a resolve which spoke to him inside as few other voices could.

Nodding slowly, he got up out of his seat and pricked his hoof on the unicorn's horn. Showing it to the pair he looked from one to the other. "You two happy?"

Chip and Bella relaxed as they spied the tell-tale bead of red form. "Yeah, you're good."

Hardhat looked at his hoof, licking at the wound until the bleeding stopped. "What's this all about?"

Chip shared a look with Bella, then pulled out a piece of paper from his saddlebags. "We want to go here, and we had to know you weren't a changeling. Their blood is green."

Hardhat opened his mouth, then shut it again. "Changelings?" he finally spluttered, gazing from muzzle to muzzle at the two kids, and finally down at the piece of paper. He visibly whitened and poured himself another shot of whiskey, gulping it down in one. Hardhat winced for a moment, hoofing himself in the chest.

"Please?" asked Bella.

"I don't know what're you talkin' about, kiddo." Hardhat glared at his shot glass for a moment, before issuing yet another refill.

"Mister," said Bella, "we've flown all the way over here from Tacksworn to see where these stone markings come from, and if you don't take us to them, you're gonna regret it."

Chip pushed the piece of paper across the desk, turning it around. "I know it's here. If you don't take us there, and right now, I'll find somebody else who will, you got me?"

Hardhat harrumphed again, flicking his tail. He was silent for a few long moments before continuing. "Fine, fine. Don't hafta get shirty about it. Your sire told me ta keep it quiet—"

"And I'm glad you have, but that doesn't mean you keep it from me." Chip's wings spread, almost by themselves. "I own this mine, and I intend to continue owning this mine, and right now, I intend on making sure that not only do I keep owning it, but everything in it keeps on running smoothly." Chip stepped around the desk, lashing his tail and sending papers flying. "I need to see the stone that came from, and you will take us there."

Hardhat looked at the arcane-winged, probably mad non-pony and started to grin. "You wanna see if you can get in, don't ya?"

♠♣♥♦

The mine was shored up with great, grey, pre-stressed concrete beams. The ugly creations only got thicker and stronger as the shaft led down. There hadn't been much else to see on the interminable walk through cramped, musty tunnels. The mine proper was lit at regular intervals by shrouded gas lamps, but Hardhat had taken them off the main tunnels a good half hour ago. Water dripped from lichen-covered ceilings, and the dank, foul-smelling depths depressed everybody's mood. There wasn't much talking, Hardhat held a single covered lantern in his muzzle and could only grunt to indicate changes in direction. It swung to and fro, casting obscene, wild caricatures of shadows on the walls, floor and ceiling.

The route they'd taken had started off simply enough – down a lift, along a shaft, but quickly became more circuitous. Several turns later, and Chip realized they were effectively lost. Soon after that, they were beyond all hope of an unaided return.

"Hardhat," demanded Chip finally, "where are we going?"

Hardhat patiently put the lantern down. "Your mom and dad ordered this mess built, kid. If you want to see the dig site, you're going to have to trust us. We're almost there, the lower levels are up in a bit."

"'Us'?" asked Hairpin. She rustled her feathers, looking about fearfully. She'd protested about coming, but nobody else had been reliably able to translate draconic. Ruff had come, as had Bella, but Penny and Beth had stayed topside. Carmine was fast regretting her decision to follow; her wings were fouled, her fur stank and it was going to take a week of preening and grooming to sort her fur and feathers out.

"You think your folks were dumb enough to let any one pony know the full route to this place? Come on, it's not too far now, then the next guy takes over. There's a few of them what lives down here, won't leave it unguarded. They know the way."

"How do we trust him?" hissed Carmine, at Chip.

"We haven't got much choice," replied Chip in a similar whisper. Raising his voice, he laughed bitterly, "maybe Mom and Dad had the only map to this place."

"They did," replied Hardhat, tapping his temple, "in their heads. You're the first ones to come down here without being blindfolded. First ones I know about at any rate. Anyone else dumb enough to try it never came back. If it was anyone else..." The pony shook his head, picked up the lantern again and carried on through the maze.

Eventually he stopped, circled something on the floor, and then nodded decisively to himself. Setting the lamp down, he tapped a hoof three times, paused, then tapped it another three times on what appeared to be a wooden panel in the floor. Chip stared at it; they would have walked right over it in the dark, and would never have seen it. The corridor they were in was the same as any other in this maze of twisting, turning passages; all alike.

Hardhat saw his expression, and answered as the distant sound of bolts being removed played out. "It goes on for miles, kid. Sure, a good diamond dog could dig down or up, or out, but there's something strange with the geography here. You'd never find what you're looking for."

"How did you find it?" Chip whispered.

"Luck, and some diamond dogs with a nose for rock. Said there was something down here. One day they found it. Let me tell you though, some things are best left buried. I wish you'd let it be."

"We can't," replied Bella. "There're powers that want what's down here, and they'll get it whether we want them to or not."

"Only thing we can do," said Ruff, speaking up suddenly, "is get it first."

"Then I hope you find what you're looking for," said Hardhat, settling down to wait. The hatch was lifted to reveal a diamond dog with a dim lantern, waiting at the bottom of some rickety wooden steps. The whole team filed down them carefully, one at a time. Finally, only Chip was left in the tunnels above. "Thank you, Hardhat. You have no idea how important this was."

The green stallion flopped onto his belly, stretching to get comfortable on a ratty blanket he pulled from his pannier bags, and placed the lantern down. "Just don't let me regret it. Come back safe, kid."

"I'll do my best," Chip replied, before he trotted down the steps.

Then the hatch was shut.

Chip found himself staring at a fully-grown diamond dog. This one looked different to the Tacksworn pack; bulkier, more feral, more like a bear than a dog.

"Who you?" the troll asked.

"Chip, Chip Irontail. I own this place."

The bear-hound snorted derisively. "You not own this place. You own the above. Down here... down here is diamond dog territory."

"You'll take us to the stone?" Ruff asked.

"Treasure hunters? How you get—"

"I told you," replied Chip, "I own the 'up there'. Hardhat said you'd take us."

The troll growled softly, unsure. Finally, Ruff spoke up. "If you not take them, take me. They just follow."

"Who you, pup?"

"I'm Ruff," replied Ruff, and he dug a paw into the ground, pulling up a small spire of rock. "I talk to stones."

The troll almost dropped his lantern. "That... that diff'rent! Come, Stonetalker! Come! Follow!" The troll took off like a shot, in his haste all but forgetting he had charges.

"Wait!" cried Chip, his calls echoing down the tunnels ineffectually as he and his friends scrambled to catch up. Only the light from Bella's horn prevented them from becoming irrevocably lost.

It was some time later when the troll actually paused, sniffing in investigation at scent-markings for the correct offshoot. The tunnels below the mine proper were rough, hewn straight from rock, though no less sturdy. Their maze-like twists and turns were even more confusing to contemplate, and far more deadly. Sudden, unmarked drops abounded, and treacherously sharp stalactites and stalagmites threatened death by impalement for the unwary and wary alike. Dim light came from lichen that glowed softly in the close darkness, and what floor there was, was uneven and strewn with detritus. Diamond dogs, even the bear-like trolls that guarded these secret passageways, didn't care much about which way was up or down. They just scaled the walls and hung onto the ceilings where needed.

Strange echoes whispered through the deeps; dripping water, scrabbling claws, far-off susurrations like some great beast breathing. Loudest was the confused pattering of claws, hooves and paws against rock as the group were led ever onwards, deeper and deeper under the ground. The weight of Equestria above them was palpable, producing an almost physical strain which sapped strength and further dampened their spirits.

It was a very solemn group which was finally called to halt at an ancient, partly-buried, broken stone tablet, guarded by two more diamond dogs. Breathing heavily in the musty, thick air, Chip walked up to the carvings. Reaching with his muzzle, he took out the piece of paper from his parents, and placed it almost reverently against the menhir, holding it there with a hoof and gesturing with his head for Bella to come closer.

"This is it," he whispered in awe, as the markings matched up. Ruff pushed him out the way, and shouldered forwards to see the marker properly. The pup ran his claws gently against the solid rock. Despite the weight of millennia that the rock had withstood, the carved, cursive runes were as clear as the day they were made.

"Show us the rest of it," demanded Chip, glaring and lashing his tail as the diamond dogs hesitated. "My friends and I can read this, we know who made it. We know what it means, and we're here to set right an ancient wrong."

"Chip speaks true," piped up Ruff. "We need to see castle. Please?" He gazed from troll to troll, yet still they hesitated.

"Wait, wait," said Chip, "I think I know what will convince them. Has anyone got some paper? And... some charcoal?" In short order, Chip was furnished with a still-glowing piece of charcoal, which he applied to a small piece of paper. He wrote a brief note, breathed in and out softly for a few moments, and then ejected a controlled flash of green fire. The note was consumed.

"Now what?" asked Bella.

"Now we wait," replied Hairpin, pulling at her feathers irritably. "You sure you sent it right?"

"Pretty sure," said Chip. He sat down on his haunches. "I... have no idea how late it is in Ponyville, but Twilight tends to pull all-nighters a lot, so Spike is probably—"

There was a sudden flash of green light under Chip's tail, followed by the clang of metal on armour. He stopped talking, muzzle frozen in what had originally been speech but was now a rictus of ill-understood pain.

"Was that..?"

"I think," squeaked Chip, "that he missed." The youngster stood up gingerly, tottered a few steps forwards and winced, bending his back legs out and lifting his tail up as he silently mouthed, "Oww!"

"Chip—?" began Hairpin, questioningly.

Chip waved a hoof. "No, no... just... never, ever speak of this again..."

Trying not to laugh, Carmine hid her beak with a wing as she glanced down at where the draconic stallion had been sitting. There on the ground was the staff they had been given, the very same one they had secreted away in Ponyville.

"Ruff, Squirt," whispered Bella, "you're up."

Ruff's ears pricked up, and almost reverently he put his paws around the staff. Heaving it upright, it towered above him. Then he turned to the other diamond dogs, and a new light was in his eyes, a new surety in his stance. "Stonetalker Ruff will ask one more time. Take us to castle."

♠♣♥♦

Author's Note

This list may be copy-pasted, but my feelings aren't They've helped make this chapter so much better and to be honest, they could help make it even more so, but you guys have been patient enough and Chapter 19 is forming.

I want to personally thank each and every one of them. So I will be standing outside their bedrooms and staring at them, watching them sleep, until I am satisfied they understand the depths of my feelings.

Also, I somewhat apologize for the potty humour. Dragons scaring diamond dogs and problems with the Equestrian mail are far too much fun to take advantage of.

BritBrony
maskedferret
Nyerguds
EricKilla
Lazygamer313
Caliaponia
Jake the Army Guy
Forevermore
AntiquatedAnnomaly
Fangwarden

Songs of the Dead

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═══════════════════════════════════

Chapter 19
Songs of the Dead
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

♠♣♥♦

Diamond dogs are simple. Their civilisation is complex, but that's because individual trolls are... uncomplicated. Ponies are the other way around, with individuals being opaque but their society straightforward and clear. That wasn't to say diamond dogs are stupid, because they aren't, Chip saw that in an instant, but their minds were direct and to the point. In a pack, there is only ever the one alpha, and his mate. Below him are his lieutenants and Pack Elders, and below them comes the rest. Inter-pack issues arise mostly when the pecking order between members of differing packs needs to be established.

Ruff had been a conundrum for the three hulking great hounds in the labyrinth since they'd smelled him coming. He was small, weak and immature... yet obviously the pup commanded the ponies and griffons that came with him. So where was he on the heap? It had been relatively simple at first: as a pup, he was to be humoured and taught the proper ways of the pack. He obviously had a decent sire, as he was alpha of his own little group, but his standing in the real world wasn't so clear... or it hadn't been, until he'd first proven to be a Stonetalker and then had wielded an Alpha's staff. Now, he commanded not only his own strange little pack, but also the three adult diamond dogs too.

The two groups moved swiftly through the semi-darkness, the bear-like Neighvada trolls calling "Come! Not much further!" Their stumpy tails were tucked neatly between their hind legs and their ears folded back as they turned to urge the Tacksworn pup and his friends onwards, the spitting torches they held alternately blinding and then bewildering as the weird shadows they cast danced with every motion. The two groups moved through the murkiness with only the echoes of their hoof and paw-steps and their own laboured breathing for company. Suddenly, the walls of the cramped tunnel fell away as it opened into a huge cavern. It stretched upwards into darkness, flanked by jagged cliffs made of some sort of glass-like material. Around him sounded muted gasps of amazement, and Chip realized his own throat was tight with awe, as his hooves trod carefully against the slick, glossy floor. The same glass-like material that rose into the darkness also stretched from beneath him into the shadows on either side. It rang like a bell with every precisely-placed hoofstep.

"This... this is castle," the first troll whispered, tail wagging as he pointed hopefully.

"How old is it?" asked Chip reverently, voice soft and whispering.

"Not know. Old enough." The second troll shrugged, his own voice little more than a breathy mumble as he hefted his torch. Numbers for the years meant little; the castle was here, that was all that mattered.

The two groups fanned out as they approached the dark structure buried within what Chip realized was solid obsidian. Spitting oil torches framed an implacable portal, a sealed gateway which mutely barred entry to the brooding, mysterious ruin. "Can Khan Ruff open door?"

Ruff gulped as he stepped hesitantly forwards, the butt of the staff sending echoes dancing up and down the length of the cavern with every step. Bella followed him, the light from her horn illuminating the solid, ominous doorway. Ruff looked long and hard at the exposed sections of the immense structure; it was an ancient castle, made of some odd stone that set his paws tingling, encased by several feet of glassy rock. A rude gash of a tunnel had been carved haphazardly through to the portcullis. The diamond-hard obsidian barrier had been laboriously hacked at and broken through by muscle alone, the shards carted off piece by piece and leaving the sides generously littered with jagged protrusions. "Ruff can try," he said, voice small against the vastness.

"Long time before, marker was up above," whispered the nearest of the bear-like trolls in a husky voice. "Then came rains, and the earth shook. It sank down below, to join castle."

Chip trotted forwards and examined the entrance; it was a rich, dark green, and clearly different to the obsidian that surrounded it. He tapped it with his hoof. It rang hollow. "You can't get in?"

The third troll shook his head. "Only Khan can open door. Khan speaks to stone, stone answers. All else must ask Khan."

Bella pushed Ruff forwards gently, with her hoof. "If we're to get anywhere, pup, you're the one to do it."

"But..." Ruff hesitated, holding his breath for a moment as he contemplated the full enormity of the task before him, "Ruff not know how."

"Ask it nicely?" suggested Hairpin, nervously fluttering her wings as she caught up, unwilling to be left alone.

Ruff chewed his lip as he waddled up to the massive door. He tapped the staff against it. "Open?" he asked tentatively, tilting his head. Nothing happened, so after a few moments, he leaned the staff against the door and then put his ear against it. He tapped methodically with his knuckles, and listened. "There something inside."

"Well we know that, dufus," snarked Carmine.

"No, Ruff mean... inside door."

"A lock?" asked Bella, wrinkling her muzzle in confusion.

"Locks need a key, makes sense." Hairpin tapped her hoof on the jade door too. "I don't see a keyhole though."

"I guess there isn't one. Maybe the key only works when the right troll turns it," said Chip thoughtfully. "Ruff, don't lose that staff. Maybe it's something like what you do with the rocks, or maybe it's not enough on its own..."

Ruff picked up the staff and turned it over and over in his paws. Gently, almost too gently to notice, the base impacted with the door. To his surprise, Ruff had to pull to get it to come free. Dropping the body of the staff, he picked it up by the base and peered at it thoughtfully for a few seconds. "Thunderbolt iron!" he exclaimed suddenly. Pointing excitedly, he danced from hind paw to hind paw. "It made of thunderbolt iron!"

"Is that important?" asked Chip, swishing his tail thoughtfully.

"Ruff think... maybe so." The pup picked up the body of the staff again and brandished the base at the door. Closing his eyes, he moved it back and forth across the structure. "Yes, yes!" he crowed. "Ruff feel it... down here, across here... more thunderbolt iron!" Ruff followed the traces of metal only he could feel, the base of the staff sliding down the door and along the floor until he found himself standing a few feet from the doorway. Hefting the staff, he grimaced. Beads of sweat appeared on his brow; the staff didn't want to move upright.

"Need help?" asked Chip eagerly.

"Yes!" Ruff grunted, red in the muzzle as he strained against the buried, uncooperative mechanism. "Ruff can feel it, down there." Ruff pointed at the ground beneath his feet. "Staff talk to rock, Ruff talk to staff... but is old. Damaged."

Chip rolled his shoulders and puffed his chest out. Turning his head left and right then right, he sought to get a good grip on the staff. Once satisfied, he bunched up his muscles and grunted, straining against the blockage. After a few aborted attempts, he spat it out. "Car, can you help? I don't have claws," he said sheepishly.

"Need a paw, huh?" asked Carmine with a smirk. Waggling her claw-tips at Chip, Carmine strutted over to Ruff and took a hold of the staff with both forepaws. "Ready when you are, Ruff," she said, batting her lashes as Chip rolled his eyes.

"When Ruff say pull, you pull."

"Pull how?" squawked Carmine, eyeing the staff suspiciously.

"You'll know," the diminutive dog replied.

The griffon took a hold of the staff and gave it an experimental yank. It refused to budge. Catching Chip's eye, she stuck her tongue out at his swaggering 'see-I-told-you-so' tail-swish.

Ruff placed both paws around the metal shaft and closed his eyes, and Carmine collected herself in readiness. As the pair exerted themselves, Chip fancied he saw a faint glow form around Ruff's paws. The flickering blue lights were undeniable as they spread all over the pup's body and engulfed the staff. In a single smooth motion, Ruff flexed his muscles and jammed the staff into the rock floor. The obsidian shattered from the impact, and the staff sank several inches into a jagged hole. Gritting his teeth, Ruff's arms bulged as he exerted his not-inconsiderable strength into tilting the staff. Seeing this as her cue, Carmine redoubled her efforts.

For a few moments, nothing seemed to be happening, but then Chip realized he could hear a distant rumbling that was slowly gaining in volume. The ominous sound grew, like the roar of some hidden beast, as dust and rocks fell from the ceiling far above. An almighty crack sounded sharp and hard in the cavern, the defeaning noise rebounding from distant walls, and whatever ancient mechanism lay buried beneath them gave way. The staff, with Carmine attached, was sent hurtling into the darkness. The rumbling turned to a distinct grinding, and the portcullis-like gate slid haltingly upwards.

Like the dying breath of some dark god, a huge cloud of dust and fetid air belched forth, enveloping everything.

In the silence that followed, the three diamond dogs fell to their bellies and grovelled in front of Ruff.

"Great Khan returns!" cried one.

"New High King!" wailed another.

"Stonetalker!" was the strangled cry of the third, the one who had guided them through the maze.

"Ruff not... Ruff not special," the pup protested, gazing around helplessly for backup. Bella was trembling at the knees, Chip's muzzle was open with shock and Hairpin was reconsidering the train of happenstance that had led here.

For her part, Carmine merely snorted as she returned, the staff in her beak. She dropped it in front of him and shook herself out, feathers fluffing up. "Can't say I agree there, pup. You opened it. Nobody's been able to open this place in... well, in forever. So you needed a little help, so what? That doesn't make you not-special. In fact, I can think of at least one special somebody who always needs help, right Chip?"

Chip shook his mane out derisively and stomped onwards towards the yawning chasm. "Come on. It might close again, and then where would we be?"

"Outside, safe, not trapped inside forever? You know, like sensible people?" retorted Bella hotly, prancing nervously from hoof to hoof as curiosity fought against her better judgement.

"Bit late for that," countered Hairpin, rustling her feathers and trotting past. "I don't know about you, but I can't find my way out of here alone."

"Ruff can," replied Ruff, shrugging. "Ruff smell way to fresh air. Come on, Ruff open door once, can open door again."

Carmine and Bella shared a glance, the former rolling her eyes, before also truding in. The three diamond dogs hastily followed, grabbing fresh torches from holders set on the walls as they went.

♠♣♥♦

Inside the fortress-like castle, it was deathly silent. Silent as the grave, thought Chip, or a tomb. The young dragon slowly picking his way through the shadows cast by the distant light of Bella's horn and the dancing flames of the spitting animal-fat torches. Ears twitching constantly, Chip realized his hackles were up, his breathing loud and wheezing, almost deafening in the silence.

The first corridor was some sort of barbican. There were thin slits in the walls and murder holes in the ceiling through which invaders would have been mercilessly speared, shot at, or worse. It opened into an enclosed courtyard with battlements and palisades lining the walls all the way to the impressively high domed ceiling.

Everything was neat, tidy... and empty. There was no sign of any disturbances, other than fallen buttresses and other masonry, presumably from sheer age.

"Where is everyone?" asked Bella nervously. "I know this place has been sealed shut for centuries, but that sign said it wasn't empty when it was."

"I'll take a look," replied Carmine softly, eyes flicking to and fro from buttress to buttress. Trotting to a diamond dog, she held her foreclaw out for a torch. Hefting it carefully, she took off in one mighty leap, swooping up to the battlements before trotting into a gatehouse. Moments later she backed out, wings half spread. She flew to a second and a third, her torch a shooting star in the darkness, before flying back down again, visibly shaken, her wings refusing to settle close to her body.

"What..?" asked Chip earnestly, his tone begging for details as he watched the distraught griffon wordlessly give the torch back to the troll. "What did you see?"

"I... they're there." Carmine swallowed, trembling, her wings rustling nervously.

"What do you mean?" asked Bella, pushing forwards, her eyes searching Carmine's.

"I m-mean," said Carmine, swallowing again, "that the guards are all there. At their posts."

"What? But—"

"Dead, of course." Carmine shuddered, took a deep breath and grew still before staring off into space. "Long dead. They just... never left their posts."

Chip ducked his head, chills playing up his spine. "Come on," he said in a whisper, "we've got to keep moving."

"To the keep," said Ruff, nodding.

"Just... brace yourselves," said Carmine. "I don't think we're gonna like what we find."

The sight, when it came, was macabre. In a great hall, ringed with the remnants of pennants and what could once have been flags, were hundreds if not thousands of skeletons, all laid out neatly. Some were alone, others were huddled together, bones entwined as if they had died embracing each other... which some obviously had. The three trolls who had travelled with them muttered under their breath, touching and arranging the odd scattered bone here or there, their voices uncommonly soft for the normally-brash creatures.

"Oh sweet Celestia," whispered Bella as she stepped into the room, her voice strained and her eyes closed tight. She turned her head back the way they'd come for a moment, breathing hard as she fought against tears. "There's pups here too. Whole families. Everyone..." Her eyes glistened wetly as she turned her head to and fro. "They just... died."

Chip shivered as he walked. "It wouldn't be this... neat. Not without help." At one large, metallic object in particular, he stopped, sniffing it experimentally. "Bella, what what can you tell us about this?" The faint clear ringing of his hoof on a large metal cauldron echoed through the great hall, bringing everyone to silence. Bella's hooves clip-clopped reverently across the stone floor, and then her horn-light went out. Moments later, it flickered back on, lightning dancing from it and playing across and in the recepticle as she examined the long-dried mixture in the bottom.

She hissed, drawing back. "Don't touch it. I don't know if it's still deadly, but it won't be good for you. It's some special herbs and plants, mixed in specific quantities. They... they made it taste better, probably for the youngsters." Bella retched, turning away.

Hairpin's voice was strained, tearful. "They gathered here, in the dark, said farewell to everyone and everything they knew... and died." The distraught pegasus nudged a bundle of rags which might have once been a dolly, or a stuffed, cuddly animal. Mingled with some too-small bones was a hint of silvery metal. A locket, big enough only for the smallest of pups to fit around an ankle or a wrist. Hairpin sobbed, quietly.

"What happened here?" asked Bella.

"Dragons happened," said Chip, recalling the dread message on the stone marker and the feet-thick mass of glass surrounding the structure. He briefly locked eyes with the Neighvada trolls. Their jaws tightened in remembrance of ancient sins.

"Your father—" whispered Hairpin, sniffing once to clear her nose.

"No!" shouted Chip, his yelp bouncing from wall to wall. He ducked instinctively, ashamed of his outburst. "He would never—" he began, voice lowered.

"Shh, be calm, Master. Let me explain. Your father was the only one of his clutch to survive poachers. He told me about the diamond dogs that killed his siblings—"

"I know, I saw their eggshells," confirmed Chip.

"And in return, his kind, whilst Sharptooth was still small, took retribution on the pack that committed the crime." Hairpin's words were level and soft.

"And buried them alive. They had nowhere to go, not enough food, not enough water..." Chip trailed off as he wandered towards what appeared to be a throne with only a single skeleton reclining in it. "Didn't you see the glass outside? That was the result of balefire. The only thing that prevented them from burning was this castle itself, but it didn't save them, it condemned them. They took the only way out they had left; death, but on their own terms."

"I guess," said Hairpin in a soft voice, "they thought a quiet, dignified death was... less painful than hunger and starvation, trapped between a rock and Tartarus itself." The pegasus fluttered her wings, gently and carefully running her hoof along a tiny skull. "No tears, only sleep... and silence."

Chip looked up at the grinning visage of whatever ancient tribal leader had presided over this grisly last supper, the pieces of a broken staff laying haphazardly amidst the bones, and swore softly to himself. There was no crown, no jewels, no finery. This had been a leader, maybe a great one, but it wasn't who they were looking for. He sat down on his haunches, shaking his head slowly. "They're not here," he said, half to himself.

"What?" asked Carmine.

"The king's jewels. They're not here. Your king," said Chip as he turned to look at Ruff with a level, calm gaze, "is in another castle."

♠♣♥♦

For a while, not much was said. There wasn't much to be said; the only sounds were the solemn chanting of the three trolls, echoing through the quiet halls as they moved amongst the dead. Their restrained crooning howls offered benedictions and pleaded with the heavens above for safe deliverance of any lost souls, asking that they be released from their prison and led to the Ancestral Pack.

Chip picked his way around the tomb, ears flicking to and fro, as he pondered the meaning of things. The cavernous room smelled of dry hopelessness; an ancient melange of tears and sadness melding with the musty, unpleasant odour of the long dead. This, he realized, was what dragons did.

No, no... Chip caught himself carefully. This is what dragons could do. Just as the diamond dogs that had killed his aunts and uncles — not to mention his birth-parents — didn't represent all diamond dogs, the dragons that had caused this weren't representative of all dragons. This whole tragedy had been dead and buried a thousand years before he was born, but like ripples in an impossibly large pond, the reflections of those actions reverberated down through the centuries. And this castle, this colossal fortress, was at the heart of it.

This fortress, then, was the site of the draconic hegemony's retribution for the killing of his adoptive father's siblings, so very long ago. Sealed away in its depths was no great king, just old, old stories, the retelling of which had grown grander with every passing year, ultimately leading to the misunderstanding which had brought him to Tacksworn.

Sharptooth, bereaved, had found new parents and a new way of life. The diamond dog nation, crushed, had been broken and scattered on the winds. Knowledge and truth had been lost amid the strife.

A thousand years later, those ancient quarrels would lead to the death of two innocent, ignorant ponies and the journey of their progeny back to the source of it all: the halls of a long-dead troll king. Fate, it seemed, had a sense of humour, or propriety.

"It's not that simple though, is it?" whispered Chip to himself.

"What?" asked Carmine.

"I said—" Chip cleared his throat. "I said it's not that simple." The young dragon looked up at Carmine from where he had been contemplating the long-dead troll king's deeds, before turning and squinting up into the darkness that surrounded them. "Bella, can you give us more light? A lot more light? I want to see something."

"Umm..." Bella looked around nervously, ears flicking to her skull as she realized what it would mean. "For a bit? When it goes out, it will take a while—"

"That's okay. We'll all be together. We can wait. We're safe; there's nothing in here but us, not even rats." Hairpin put a wing over the fearful unicorn, nuzzling her softly.

"Okay... I'm not sure how well this will work..." There was darkness for a few tense seconds, and then Bella's horn lit up in a brilliant flash. For a brief moment, it seemed to glow as bright as the sun before spewing forth a bolt of magelight, which was sent hurtling upwards. It impacted the ceiling, where it stuck fast and glowed with a cold, harsh light, illuminating the entire room.

Chip gazed at the walls and began to laugh. As his friends cried out in concern and surprise, he pointed a hoof. "It's there! It's all there! All of it!" Chip gestured to giant murals that, in the harsh blue mage-light, could clearly be seen inscribed on the domed ceiling and walls. "Look! Dragons, griffons, ponies! Each one receiving a piece of the king's staff... and there... on the last picture... the High King."

The entire group gathered on the steps of the dais, gazing around in awe at the ancient fresco. They were mostly pictographical, though there were words to go with it. They told a simple eight-part story. The first was when the trolls emerged from what looked like a tunnel, into a cave, where they met a dragon. From there the dragon sent them to the griffons, who escorted them to two alicorns, Celestia and Luna. Neither Bella nor Chip could look away from that section as its import became clear.

"This is old, guys," said Bella, reverently. "A thousand years ago, Luna was imprisoned in the moon... this is older!"

"You're telling me," said Carmine, "that those pictures are over a thousand years old?"

"Well, the story in them is, at least," replied Bella, thoughtfully.

"You think it's real?" Carmine raised an eyebrow, her crest lifting in surprise.

"Well it matches with the book, right?" Bella looked down at Ruff for confirmation, who nodded.

"Ruff can read words, looks the same."

"Copy them down, Ruff, everyone! They're important. Whatever happened here, it wasn't supposed to happen! But packs stick together, and they all suffered. I think it may have been before... before diamond dogs were a proper part of the Pax Equestrus."

"More than that, Chip," Carmine added, "this is what happened when they first arrived." Her eyes glittered as she cast her gaze around the now brightly lit room.

"I was afraid of that," Chip responded, heaving a heavy sigh.

Hairpin locked gazes with Chip, who shook his head softly at her unspoken question. Return to Tacksworn was out of the question. She scowled, but bowed her head slightly to Chip before turning to the diminutive troll, still holding his staff. "Ruff, tell your boys to secure the area. I think we've got another trip on our hooves."

"Another one?" moaned Bella.

"Relax, this is going to be a real short trip. At least... this part of it is, right, Chip?"

"Short? Where are we going?" Bella looked anxiously from pony to pony-shaped dragon to troll.

Chip just grinned. "Soon as we can, as soon as Ruff's got the text on those murals down, we're heading to Neighvada City. I'll explain when we get there." He turned to the three diamond dogs, "We're going to need your assistance. We need to get our friends from up above, and then we need to get into Neighvada unnoticed, think you can help?"

The three trolls looked down at Ruff, who nodded emphatically. Three tails wagged and the biggest crossed his gargantuan paws across his chest.

"Where you want go?"

"Let's get out of here, and I'll show you."

♠♣♥♦

Grash and Pug stood opposite each other as the flood of trolls became a trickle, then stopped entirely. They took one last look at the old alpha, standing stoically with the last few of his tribe who had decided to stay; his eyes betrayed his real feelings: go.

Turning together, the two stepped hesitantly into the glowing tunnel of light.

"Quickly, young alphas," hissed Akash, strain visible in his clenched teeth and rapid breathing. "You must... you must pass through! Your pack needs you!"

"Come with us?" pleaded Pug.

"I... cannot," Akash panted, his ears splayed out and his tail hung limp. "If I move, all that holds this passage open will fall," Akash growled, glaring directly at the pup. "As you witter away at me, that end approaches all the quicker! Now flee, damn your hides! Flee!"

It was Grash who took hold of Pug – not unkindly – and forced the smaller troll to move. "Come! Our duty is to the pack, as is Akash's, but our duty is not here."

Pug swallowed heavily, looking back and forth between the Elder and his new brother. Finally, he nodded. The pair pushed onwards through the spectral tunnel. The air was thick, and it was slow going as if they were moving through mud. That feeling of thickness, of pressure, only grew, until they were fighting to move against a torrent of force. Against these odds, Grash took hold of Pug and forged onwards. Together, the two suddenly found themselves flailing in free air as they emerged into a dimly lit, ordinary looking cave.

Rolling to his hind paws, Pug stood and turned, reaching out to what looked like a strange, multi-coloured crack in the wall. It was already too small to pass through, but he could not bring himself to let the old hound go. "Akash!" he cried. "Please, Akash! Come!" The small troll threw himself against the wall, grabbing the sides of the crack, but his paws slipped off, finding no purchase, almost as if the crack wasn't there at all. Tears streaming down his muzzle as he strained against the impossible, Pug begged and pleaded Akash to follow them to safety.

Finally – it had been only moments, but it had felt like an age – Pug gave up, leaning heavily against the rock wall. As his breathing calmed, he realized he could hear singing. It was Akash, the old hound's howls filling whatever nether-space he now inhabited with cries to the lost dead, to come gather round the firelight and to let the flames of mourning send them to the Place Above, abode of the Ancients, whose eyes looked down during the night to keep their children safe. The ancient words resonated within Pug's being, setting a fire alight in his mind. As the strains of the ancient funeral dirge flowed through him, it was as if a great veil lifted from his eyes; the world stood out clearer than before, sharper. It was as if, Pug realized with thoughts suddenly nimble as jackrabbits, that up until this moment, he had always been sleeping. Before he could finish contemplating this, the song finished and the crack sealed itself up, both the song and singer disappearing forever.

Pug beat his fists impotently against the wall, silently cursing Farak. Then he drew a great breath and let it out. Akash's magic had been potent. The old hound was safe, far from the blind soul-eating demon. He was probably already beside Ik'Mara in the Forever Forest, leading his pack of ancestors in the Great Hunt.

Pug was safe too, along with Grash and the rest of the pack. The vengeful blind demon was far away, beyond the wall through a tunnel which none could open, not even old One Eye himself. He had his health, his pack-mates, and his pack. He turned to them and cleared his throat. Pointing randomly, he chose several trolls and applied his new-found inner clarity. "You two, go find water. You, you, you, go find wood and bring back here for fire. No hunting, first must see where we are, what is about us. We are few. We are vulnerable. For our pack to be strong, we must first be wise."

"And why should we listen to you?" bristled the first troll.

"Because," snarled Grash, stomping over and throwing him to the floor, "I'll rip your backside out and feed it to you if you don't. Do as he says!" Grash looked at Pug, and they shared a common understanding. Whatever the last gift of Elder Akash had been, it had also touched Grash. Pug nodded.

The unlucky troll whined, grovelling before Grash, kissing his paws. "Crusher good, Crusher behave."

"See you do. And no hunting!" Grash called as the troll vanished. "Now—" Grash rolled his head, cracking his neck, and stretched, "—where we are?" He strode through the cave, pushing through the torrent of trolls, heading along the flow. After a good amount of a time strolling through the cave-system, following the sweet scent of clean air, he emerged from the dark into the glaring sunlight. Blinking back tears, the grandeur of the new world gradually came into focus.

It was a large, green and fertile valley. Mountains rose before him, and the world disappeared far behind to the sound of surf. This was a plateau, then, protected from the elements and flush with life. A glorious bright sun shone high in the heavens, free of the taint that had dogged their own.

"This... good home," said Pug from behind him.

"Hope so, not much choice if not." Grash laughed, tail wagging as his muzzle fell open in a canine grin.

"We stay here awhile, gather strength, then move." Pug bent and plucked a flower. Placing it in his mouth, he chewed it carefully before spitting it out.

"Move?" Grash perked an ear.

"This place... smells wrong. Some will stay, it is the way of things, but I will go. Will you follow?"

Grash pondered awhile, looking up and around as he dug a claw in his ear thoughtfully. "If you say move, pack move. Where to?"

Pug laughed, easily and lightly. "Does it matter? I will know." The diminutive troll dropped to all fours and dug his claws into the loam, enjoying the feel of the earth between his digits. Without standing up, he padded over to a nearby tree, playfully tearing great rents in the mud. Stretching upright and flexing his muscles, he pulled down a branch, working at it until it snapped free. Using his claws, he began to strip the bark and shape it, muttering softly. Where his paws passed, the wood took on a grey sheen, the green fading as it dried.

"You learn magic? When?" Grash's eyes were wide with shock.

Pug shrugged. "Ever since tunnel, ever since hearing song of Akash... things smell different. Branch spoke to me," said Pug, not looking up from his work. "It remember when fire ravage valley one summer. It scorched tree, burned grasses. It thank us for tending to land. There will be no more fires, not long as pack tread here. In return, I make a staff."

Grash nodded, "Old One speaks through you now. Song of Akash still with us, as long as one who heard it lives."

The sun wheeled in the sky, and the lost tribe of diamond dogs made themselves comfortable in their new home.

♠♣♥♦

Honeydew hummed to herself as she trotted through the valley. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and summer was well underway. She'd been busy all morning gathering wild mushrooms and had even found some apples and onions. She'd dug them up with her horn and had patiently lifted them one by one into the pannier bags Weaver had made for her. Honeydew sighed happily in the warm spring sun, the cold of winter having finally been banished for another year. It had taken her herd-sister a long time to dry and properly treat the rushes, longer than it had taken Honeydew to find them all. Now, the bags were full and lunch would be filling and fancy.

Sadly for her herd-mates, it would also be very, very late.

She never saw or heard the creatures that had been following her. She never felt the jaws that fastened around her throat, and she never felt pain from the pressure that snapped her neck. She died in seconds, a confused expression on her muzzle as the weight of the troll on her back bowled her over, gutting her with his hind-claws, tearing out her throat and leaping off to roll to his paws.

Wiping his claws, Crusher licked the blood from them before sinking his muzzle into the steaming entrails, even before his packmate had finished telling him to stop.

"Crusher! Alpha said no hunting!" protested the second troll, ears flat and tail tucked. His nose, however, twitched. He was as hungry as the rest of the pack; the poor hunting during the flight had taken its toll on everyone.

"Quiet, Howler! Crusher hungry! When Crusher bring food, then pack see, Crusher be alpha! Not snivelling pup, not brainless lackey! Crusher feed, Crusher rest. You fetch wood!"

"But..."

"If Howler bring wood for two, Crusher share leg. There are four, all juicy. This creature fat, fed well. There more, good hunting, but Crusher feed pack well."

Howler's stomach growled, making his mind up for him. He fled.

♠♣♥♦

Pug and Grash had set up camp in a meadow under a large, shady tree. The sun was high and beat down powerfully, but the warmth rejuvenated the pack, young and old alike. Several scouts were already returning with good news.

"Found water, not far from here. Big lake, fresh water, many fish. Urge caution, animals close. Big animals." The large troll abased himself before Grash and Pug, grovelling. His tail wagged.

"Well scouted, Sniffer," said Grash, chewing his lip thoughtfully. Finally, he said, "Take larger group, some pups, some elders. Water them and return. More will follow. Look for good hunting grounds."

"But no hunting!" said Pug, snarling.

"Pug," cautioned Grash, "tribe hungry."

Pug lifted a paw. "Remember disaster at Haroon? Must be cautious. Big animals may be dangerous."

"Hrmm." Grash nodded reluctantly. "Big animals... how big?"

"Sniffer not know, but—" The troll stopped at a sudden commotion as two more trolls pushed their way to the center. His nostrils flared at the scent of blood and meat.

With a loud thump, a hefty, gutted carcass was dumped into the center of the rapidly-dispersing group of trolls. Crusher thrust himself forward and grinned wide, his lips stained red with blood.

"Crusher!" hissed Pug, looking down aghast at the carcass before him. "What have you done?"

"I have hunted. Good game here. Fat, juicy, tasty! Whilst Pug grovel and scratch in dirt, like chicken, I hunt, like troll should!"

"You disobeyed me!" snarled Pug.

"Can only disobey alpha, pup," said Crusher, growling, his hackles rising.

"Grash told you no hunting too!" roared Grash, standing next to Pug.

"Who is Grash to tell Crusher? Snivelling pet, muzzle-licker, begging for scraps!"

"Grash is—"

"Quiet!" shouted Pug, ears perking up.

"Pug—" began Grash, turning in surprise.

"Listen!" Pug stared earnestly at Grash, urging silence with every pore.

Grash perked his ears up, as long low notes from some giant horn sounded from far away. "What that..?"

Pug stepped closer to the limp pile of meat, crouching down to examine it. He sniffed. "What it was carrying?" he asked, softly

"Carrying?" asked Crusher.

Pug pointed at places between where the head and neck had been, and around the stomach near the hind legs. "Ropes or... straps. What it was carrying?"

"Carrying. Humph! What Crusher cares?"

Pug screwed up his muzzle in exasperation before slamming the butt of his staff against the ground, eliciting an answering rumble from the mountain peaks. "This carried things. This wore clothes, used tools. This was not animal! We only eat animal, you... you..." Pug broke off in frustration, slamming his foreclaws against the dirt, sending up a huge spray of mud and rocks.

Crusher spat dismissively. "That no diamond dog. It animal."

Pug didn't even raise his gaze from the ground. "This not our world, fool. That was... diamond dog from... from this world." Pug struggled to articulate the new thoughts rattling around in his head. He understood, the difficulty was to make others understand. "It not look like us, but it... it think like us. It breathe like us, live like us." He turned to the carcass and put out a paw, almost touching the bloodied hide. "Our prey, our meat, not mourn dead. This does."

"How you know?" Crusher was laughing, but his hackles were up as chills ran down the back of his neck.

"Because her guardian comes."

"Guardian?" Crusher backed away, his voice faltering as his brash facade crumbled.

Pug straightened and pointed to where a dark shape in the sky was rapidly growing larger. Moments later, a gigantic winged beast landed heavily on the outskirts of the makeshift troll camp. It strolled easily in through the scattering trolls, batting at those too slow to move out of its way and sending them flying. Finally, it came to a stop, where it looked down at the remains of the dead pony. A series of noises came from its throat, and Pug realized it was speaking.

"I... not understand. Not speak same tongue," said Pug, striding to stand before the great creature.

It watched him impassively for a few moments before snatching him in its claws. Pug fought hard against a whimper as it brought him before its huge, sharp-tooth-laden maw for a closer look. As hot, fetid breath washed over him, Pug realized this creature was called a dragon, and she was female. The slain animal was called a pony, had been a unicorn to be precise, and she had lived in a village down by the lake that his scouts had located, in a country called Equestria. Information flooded into his brain like water flowing through a burst dam, filling the corners of his mind with tidbits of facts, figures and formulae. It was a dizzying, almost physical force that left him weak and nauseous.

"Tell me now, creature, what happened?" The great blunt head of the copper-coloured dragon made the same noises as before, but now Pug found he could understand them as if he had been speaking with these sorts of creatures all his life.

Pug blinked, mind filled with a new understanding. This was a dragon, a great wyrm like and yet so-unlike the creatures his kind had herded back in their home realm. She was enormous, with beautiful golden eyes that seemed to pierce through to his very soul. Gleaming white horns spiraled out from the back of her head and two leathery wings adorned her flanks. "I understand you now!"

The dragon rolled her eyes. "Have you never seen magic before?"

"Not like yours. I have never seen your like before, nor... nor hers." Pug rolled the new words around in his mouth with surprise. He sounded like Akash, and that both worried and enthralled him.

"I see." The dragon put Pug down, staring around with some amusement at the range of emotions and stances to be found amongst the remnants of the Shattered Hills pack. "I suggest you tell your pack to cease their aggressive behaviour. I do not wish to play, and I assure you I can make light of whatever attacks they could bring against me."

Pug nodded. "Stand down!" he barked.

"You understand that?" asked Grash.

"Yes. She... taught me to speak."

"What she want?"

Pug eyed the dead pony. "I think she wants to know who did that and why." Turning to the dragon, he said, "Forgive us, our pack is lost and hungry, and we did not know—"

"Who slew the pony?" asked the dragon, interrupting Pug with one raised foreclaw.

"I—"

"No! No, do not attempt to take the blame for your minions. I see the thought playing across your mind, little one. Ordinarily I would be appeased by such substitution, but right now I feel you are perhaps the only one amongst your group who has the wherewithal to converse at all legibly with me. I would have the culprit."

Pug reluctantly pointed at a quivering Crusher.

"Inform him that he has a choice. He will submit to my will, and thereby make amends, or he will die."

"Crusher," whispered Pug, swallowing heavily, "you have broken the laws of this land, but you have also broken the laws of the pack, and so I must weigh your protection against the good of our clan."

Crusher snarled. "Save your words, coward."

"I am no coward," said Pug, "but I am no fool. Submit to the dragon, and you will live. Otherwise, you will die. If we oppose this creature, more will die, and I will not have that."

Crusher just snarled and launched himself at the dragon. In the blink of an eye, he was speared through the torso by a single, razor-sharp talon. He twitched, silently gasping as his life-blood flowed down the talons and spilled onto the green grasses, and then was still.

"Pity," said the dragon, as she pulled her claws from the dead troll. "Now, tell me what has befallen your people. I may be able to help, for a fee."

Pug eyed the creature thoughtfully for a second before sitting down in front of her, pointedly ignoring the dead troll that lay silently bleeding into the grass. "What will your help cost? We seek to find ourselves a home here. Many of us wish to stay in this place, but... we cannot afford mistakes like Crusher made."

The dragon laughed softly. "I smell two trolls on the dead pony. One, the guilty, has been dealt with. The other may offer himself to me, and for that price I shall guide your pack to safety and speak on your behalf to the princess of this land, and the other powers that owe fealty."

"That is not my decision to make," replied Pug. "I am alpha of my pack, but not master of the trolls within it."

"Then I shall ask him myself." The dragon searched through the crowd and located Howler. Pointing, she bid him approach, beckoning with a talon.

"She will not harm you," Pug said as the shivering troll came closer. The dragon lifted him up and wove the same spell on Howler as she had on Pug.

"Now we may deal," said the dragon, settling herself down comfortably. As the rest of the pack cowered back uncertainly, Pug and Howler listened to her speak. "I am the Lady Manasa, and you will address me as 'my lady', 'Lady Manasa' or 'Mistress'. For the price of your obedience to me, I will bestow upon you the ability to talk to the ponies. In return for your pack offering protection, you will be fed and traded with, and you may stay here."

"Kept like chickens? Or hogflesh?" blurted Howler indignantly. Choking at her sudden glare, he followed that up with a squeaked-out, "Lady?"

The dragon shrugged, mollified. "If it suits you to think of it like that. Surely you would rather see it as becoming alpha of a pack of your own, of becoming alpha of the ponies, too. They will grow to depend upon you, as you will depend upon me."

Howler thought to himself for a moment before he looked up at the dragon. "Howler would be alpha? What must Howler do, Mistress?"

"You are to make sure your pack does as I wish: you are to protect the ponies from all threats, both foreign and domestic, and your pups will do the same, as will their pups. That is all. In return—" the dragon turned to Pug— "those who burden your exodus are free to stay here, in safety and prosperity."

Now it was Pug's turn to think. "You... would command him, my lady? And his pups?"

"And their pups, and on, unless I have no use for them. And I give you my word, those will be set free with no negative consequences."

"You would command them too, like an alpha?"

"If that is how your kind wish to put it." The dragon waved a claw nonchalantly.

"You could command him now though, surely, my lady?"

"But not willingly. It is..." The dragon waved a claw, unsure how to state things.

Pug waved a paw placatingly, "I understand enough. Magic. You are powerful, I sense that."

"I could teach you the ways of the mage. You are a strange creature, but I feel the powers stir within you. I would see them blossom."

"Part of the same deal?"

The dragoness laughed. "As you wish it, so mote it be."

"My Lady Manasa," blurted Pug, "could you... take us home?"

The dragon locked eyes with him for a second then turned her head to the distant cave. She sniffed, seemingly nonchalantly, but Pug felt a certain... draw from her as she exercised her powers. "I could," she stated finally.

"And what would that cost?" Pug all but held his breath, almost speechless.

"To send your people home?" The dragon weighed the options for a moment, casting her gaze across the clearing before answering smoothly and without a hint of hubris. "A third of your adults, equal male and female, all of your young and a representative number of your elderly, all pledged to me. In return, you could be home this very night, under your own stars, with knowledge beyond your wildest dreams, enough to cement your status amongst your own tribes."

Pug fell back in shock and Howler's ears flattened against his head. Pug's head swam as he contemplated the enormity of what he was about to do. "I... cannot agree to that," Pug said eventually, his voice hoarse and muscles tense. As the dragon nodded, his shoulders slumped. He had made his decision. His mind reeled as he contemplated how the story of this moment would be told and retold for generations yet to come. It was enough to turn his legs to jelly and to set his water flowing. He swallowed, knowing that he had just sealed his people's fate, that forever more they would be a tribe apart from the realm they had once called home.

The dragon stared long and hard at Pug, but the troll's gaze slowly hardened and his back straightened. Finally, she smiled and inclined her head. "So be it."

♠♣♥♦

The installation was dark, patrolled only by a few loose pairs of carefree pegasus guards in the air and by some surly and bored earth ponies on the ground. The moved as quickly as possible, stamping their feet against the chill desert air, aching to be downtown amongst the bright lights and action, or at least back in the guardhouse where the coffee was terrible but plentiful. This was Neighvada, the gambling, drinking and entertainment centre of Equestria. Nopony wanted to be stuck patrolling when they could be out carousing.

If the guards had been attentive, they might have heard some odd noises that were a little bit too repetitive to put down to an overactive imagination, or to animals out in the tundra; noises like the distant scrabbling of claws, or of hushed voices arguing about how far exactly the tunnel system had been extended, or even how deep underground, or whether they were, in fact, anywhere at all near some supposed mystery destination.

"Chip," grumbled Carmine, shaking her feathers out for the umpteenth time that night as she plodded inexorably down the interminable tunnel to nowhere, "are you absolutely sure you know where you're going?" The griffon pointed a wing at the three tireless trolls.

The group had returned to the surface, picked up Bethany and Penny, and had promptly been shown back underground, out of the night air.

"Not a clue," said Chip with a grin, the smirk almost wider than his muzzle, "but they do."

Chip had spoken in hushed tones with the three trolls, who had turned out to be called Cecil, Cheshire and Rollo. Chip had pointed with a hoof, waggling it in a roughly Easterly direction until the hounds had nodded. They could get the group to where he wanted to go; diamond dog tunnels stretched for miles under the savannah, it would be pups' play to extend them the rest of the way. Shortly after that, despite protests, the entire group – minus Hardhat – had shuffled into the trolls' tunnels. They'd been tromping through the semi-darkness ever since.

"Relax, catbird," grunted one of the trolls. He was panting hard form digging through several miles of solid rock, and all four of his paws were slick with sweat.

"Cecil," asked Hairpin, nudging the troll, "it is Cecil, right? How do you... know where you are?"

The troll stopped digging and straightened as much as his back and the cramped tunnel would allow. Joints popped and cracked in the darkness, glow-gems on their hardhats providing almost enough light to trip over obstacles by. Then he gave Hairpin a withering glance, which he shared with his pack-mates. "Birdpony, you not get lost up in sky, right?"

"Right, but that's obvious. I can, you know, see around up there."

The troll snorted derisively. "Birdpony not see all across Equestria, but know where to go, if want to get there, right?"

"...Right, but that's diff—"

The troll shook his head. "Uh-uh. Not different. birdpony not get lost up there, diamond dogs not get lost down here."

"He's got a point, you know," said Chip, still grinning, as Cecil started to dig again.

Carmine gave an annoyed squawk. "You're insufferable. Must be a dragon thing."

Chip just grinned more. Despite the dark, despite it being hard to breathe, despite the last air shaft being quite a ways back and the slow going, he was having the time of his life. Probably because he was going to be killed, roasted, chopped up and served on a bed of Arugala at the end of it all. Might as well live it up whilst you have the chance, right?

In a darkened field, between two large and mostly shapeless buildings, a section of the hard-packed earth broke apart, forming a small bulge which rapidly expanded to a hillock of rock and dirt before collapsing. Carefully, very carefully, a seemingly-dark head festooned with a risen crest and beady eyes peeked above the rim.

"Looks clear, guys," hissed Carmine. Moments later, she hopped out of the tunnel and vanished into the shadows. She was joined by Chip, Ruff, Hairpin, Bella and one of the three guardian trolls.

"Right where you said we'd be, Cecil. Where's our target?"

"Cecil already say, know where going underground." the diamond dog puffed up, proud of himself. "Cecil know tunnels as well as birdcats know air or ponies forests. What you want is in there!" Cecil pointed to one of the dark, humongous buildings, tail wagging furiously.

"Cecil, you're a genius. Couldn't have done it without you," agreed Chip, hoofing the troll in the ribs. "Now, you three get clear. From here on out, it's all down to us."

"Khan Ruff okay with that?" Cecil asked, tail wagging and ears perked.

Ruff nodded. "Ruff okay. Cecil do good. Real good."

Cecil yipped happily before diving back through the hole, which he rapidly filled up behind him until it was nothing but lumpy, brown patch of earth.

Bella poked it with a hoof experimentally before looking up at Chip. "You sure this is a good idea? Where are we, anyway?"

"Just follow me, and stay in the shadows. We're... not exactly supposed to be here."

"And where is here? What are we doing here?"

Chip grinned in the darkness. "Breaking and entering."

The door opened reluctantly, the gang wincing collectively as the hinges squealed in protest. Chip had made short work of the padlock, he was still chewing it and smacking his lips as they stole into what, it quickly became clear, was a hangar.

Carefully, Bella caused her horn to glow just enough to make sense of what they were seeing. A large, glittering and brightly coloured shape hung suspended in the air before them, oozing a sense of purpose and strength from every elegant square inch. It was an airship, gigantic, sleek and majestic. It hung poised before them, tied down by taut wires, almost begging to be released. As they approached, Chip had the feeling it was caged within the hangar like a beast, raging to be set free, its dormant might and majesty almost palpable. Strange designs and writing flowed across the enormous gondola beneath the envelope. Chip thought they looked somehow familiar, but he couldn't quite make them out.

"That's the Great Harmony," said Hairpin breathlessly.

"What?" asked Carmine, her crest raising in surprise.

Hairpin's eyes shone with awe. "She's the flagship of the Equestrian Fleet."

"And," said Chip with barely-restrained glee, "we're going to steal her."

♠♣♥♦

Author's Note

You waited patiently for it, and I hope it's delivered. I may be (once again) publishing too early, but I think I'm as happy with it as I'm going to get. I could not (simply could not) have done this without the help of the following:

BritBrony
maskedferret
Nyerguds
EricKilla
Lazygamer313
Caliaponia
Jake the Army Guy
Forevermore
AntiquatedAnnomaly
Fangwarden
q97randomguy

and I owe them so much for their help with grammar, spelling and punctuation. Not to mention character interaction and talking heads. It's still not perfect, they didn't get their own way (meaning I was pig-headed often enough to ignore them) and yet I strongly feel this chapter is much improved because of them.

cookies this time for those smart enough to get the reference at the end... and I hope y'all remember what happened at the very end of chapter 4!

Ad Astra Per Aspera

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
════════════════════════════

Chapter 20
Ad Astra Per Aspera
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

♠♣♥♦

"Are you—!" Carmine began, her squawk echoing from the rafters. She was swiftly silenced by a black griffon's claw being placed around her beak. "Beth?" Carmine whispered through the talons, as her eyes widened.

Beth nodded sharply, ruffling her feathers and lashing her tail as she placed her claw back on the ground. "I want to see this up close, Car," the griffon said, her golden eyes fixing Carmine with a piercing gaze.

Carmine kneaded her claws on the dusty concrete anxiously, her pink-hued head-feathers rising and falling as she contemplated this new turn of events. She worked her beak silently for a few moments before hissing, "Are you both crazy!?" She turned from the black-and-brown speckled griffon to the armoured, pony-shaped dragon and back, her beak hanging open incredulously. "You can't even fly this thing! I bet you've never been within a thousand paces of something like this!"

Chip just grinned, looking past Carmine, somewhere over her shoulder.

"What?" Carmine turned to watch where Chip's gaze had fallen. She saw nothing, just Bella, Ruff... and Hairpin. Carmine turned back to Chip. "Her?"

"Hairpin's been onboard airships before, haven't you, my pet?" Chip's grin was smug enough that Carmine just rolled her eyes at his choice of words, her indignant snort, the lashing tail and raised neck-feathers the only other outward signs of displeasure.

Hairpin stepped forwards, wary of the tone and content in Chip's words. Her expression was cloudy, difficult to read. "Ye-es, kind of... they were commercial craft, not military—"

"But they were airships?" clarified Chip, ears perked.

"Of course, but..." Chip's widening grin cut her off. She sighed. "You're really going to do this, aren't you?"

"If you say 'no way', if it looks like we're just going to crash it, then I'll turn right around and we'll go home, okay?" Chip said, rustling his wings as he placed a hoof against Hairpin's chest.

"You mean it?" Hairpin asked hopefully.

Chip's grin, if anything, grew. "Not a chance." He trotted cheekily past Carmine's open beak, tail held high.

"First day," muttered Carmine, staring after the prancing partly-pony, "I could tell he was trouble, but did I leave well enough alone? No, no I didn't."

Chip flicked his mane out of his eyes and rolled his shoulders as he turned to look up at the ship, causing his almost ever-present armoured wings to flutter. The Bevelmiter tubes flickered briefly into life, lightning playing across the device, reflecting their owner's thoughts. He'd taken them off on the initial trip underground, but had replaced them for the subsequent trip to his mystery destination. He had been keeping them 'quiet', but the excitement was making that impossible. "Come on, let's get aboard! Carmine, Beth, see if you can find an entrance!"

"Sure thing, boss," said Beth, rolling her eyes and clicking her beak sarcastically. Carmine punched her friend playfully on the shoulders, and the two took off. They came back a few minutes later, landed, and grinned at Bella.

"What?" asked the unicorn filly, arching an eyebrow and backing away warily.

Beth and Carmine shared a glance, and the latter swished her supple leonine tail as she replied, "We found a way in, but it's for unicorns only, seeing as this is a pony ship."

"Ordinarily I think there'd be a gangplank or some sort of platform to get up there," added Bethany, "but just this once, we're going to have to give you a lift." Before the startled lavender unicorn could utter a single cry, she was whisked up into the air by two sets of careful claws and griffon-handled to a cramped indented ledge on the side of the gondola. Penny half-spread her wings to go take a look, but a touch from Hairpin's hoof said give them room. Ruff stood up on Penny's withers, holding tightly onto her mane as he strained to see what was going on, stubby tail wagging expectantly.

Bella opened her eyes as the jostling eased and her hooves touched wood. She had screwed them tightly shut at being hoisted into the air, and she almost shut them again at the view that was just behind her. Getting a hold of herself, Bella locked her eyes on the ship and ignored the drop. Almost immediately, she spotted something which looked strongly like an entrance. "I... think I see something."

"Think you can do it?" called Chip, trotting underneath the two griffons as they hovered protectively near their ill-at-ease cargo, squinting up in the gloom as he tried to peer at what they'd found.

"Do I have a choice?" grumbled Bella, kicking her legs futilely. "Let me see..." The unicorn peered at the vertical side of the ship. It was a definite archway, rimmed in gleaming metal. She could see a clear, door-like shape made out in filigree and carved patterns, but no obvious way to open it, except for a smooth, circular hole inset in the middle... a magical lock. Shadows danced as her horn turned towards it, and she played faint light across her goal. "Okay, I'm taking a closer look, this is a basic horn-lock. If it's actually locked we might have to do something drastic—"

"I'll bite the lock off if you want!" Chip called up, eager to help.

"No more snacking, you'll get fat," retorted Carmine idly, turning her head slightly as she called over her shoulder. "I heard you sneaking gems from the walls all the way here."

Chip stomped a hoof and pouted. "I was hungry!" he called up.

"Yeah but—"

"Hold still!" hissed Bella, "I need to concentrate!" She swept her head about in frustration to flick her mane out of her eyes, before delicately slipping her horn into the circular lock in the side of the ship.

For a few seconds nothing happened. There were no sounds but Bella's soft and steady breathing as, with eyes closed, she mentally examined the device. Suddenly her eyes snapped open and her muzzle split in a wide grin. Magic flowed along the doorframe, lighting up a delicate filigree pattern which spidered and swept across the panels like frost on a windowpane. Warm amber light bathed Bella and the two astonished griffons as the mechanisms engaged. There was a quiet hum and a split appeared in the center of the door, the hair-thin crack widening steadily as the two halves began to roll back on silent, well-oiled hinges. With an almost imperceptible hiss, the doors' panels suddenly broke into a grid of rectangular pieces, each rimmed in golden light. With a faint hum and a whoosh of air, the panels broke free of the retreating door-frame, swarming like a flock of birds around the speechless intruders. They floated gracefully around the three before settling into a vaguely stair-like pattern that easily reached the ground.

The arcane steps were ornately decorated, dark-stained wooden blocks, covered in richly detailed carvings. Chip tested one with a hoof suspiciously, but it held fast as he put his weight on it. Grinning to himself, he pranced up the first few steps. His grin faded as he realised Penny and Hairpin had already entered, the former carrying Ruff on her back, before Chip had made it up the first step.

"Come on slowpoke!" called Penny, over her shoulder.

"I'd fly up there too if I had a little more room!" complained Chip as loudly as he dared, scowling.

Carmine poked her head out the door at that and rolled her eyes, crest lifting playfully. "You mean you'd flutter around like an injured fledgeling and we'd have to come pull you in!" The griffoness punctuated every syllable of the last three hissed words with a claw-jab, before pointing one clawed thumb over her shoulders impatiently. "Get up here! It was your idea after all!"

Grumbling, Chip maneuvered his bulk up the steps. Heights were something he no longer had a problem with, but perversely enough, now that he could see the floor it worried him a lot more. Eventually, he gratefully stepped off the last floating platform and through the wide doorway.

The archway led to a short tunnel, which swiftly opened up into some sort of hold. As the awestruck trespassers spread out, enchanted gem-lights filled the room with a soft, blue-white glow to reveal the full grandeur of the ship. The meticulous attention to detail the shipmakers had paid during construction was visible over every square inch. There was a definite military feel to everything, but still the Equestrian flair for artistry shone through. There were sturdy yet beautiful brass fittings for tie-downs and handles, offset by elaborate joinery in all the wooden surfaces, all of which had been waxed and polished until they shone. Supplies were dotted about, stored carefully under hefty cargo netting, giving the whole ship an air of poised readiness... and yet it was totally silent, as if something was missing.

"Anything looking familiar?" Penny asked Hairpin. The younger pegasus trotted nervously around the open space, tail flicking and wings half-spread.

"I recognize most of the arcane tech," replied Hairpin slowly, turning around on the spot as she gazed at the eclectic collection of machinery. "This is a loading bay, just a bit more spartan than the ones I'm used to. Vormardra's ships were all cruiseliners, but they still handled freight. He employed unicorns extensively, but grunt work demanded earth ponies. They have a lot more stamina, but—" Hairpin trotted over to a large boom built of metal struts and pointed to it with a wing. "—earth ponies or not, you still need cranes like this thing here."

Chip trotted over to a mechanical claw which hung from some heavy-duty steel cables threaded through the crane. He peered at it for a few incredulous seconds before warily poking at it with an iron-shod hoof. Unicorns could lift most objects with their magic, and pegasi could fly the rest, but this ship was designed to be operated by any race of pony. Conversation sprung up as curiosity began to overcome the natural cautiousness of the ponies in the group and the instinctive stealth of the predatory troll and griffons. Turning and clearing his throat, he stomped a hoof for silence before addressing the group. "Power's out. This is all running on basic charms and cantrips."

"What?" asked Bella. "What do you mean 'power's out'?"

Ruff cocked his head to one side, and impulsively reached out to push an alluringly big, red button that read 'Danger' in warning tape around it. His paw was soundly smacked by Penny's wing. He yelped and drew it back, pouting.

Hairpin opened her mouth, but Chip trotted in front of her. "Allow me," he said. For an answer, Chip spread his wings, the Bevelmiter tubes on his back flaring into life. "This is what I mean." He flapped his wings a few times to illustrate the point, surges of arcane energies flowing through the device, before flipping them closed and continuing. "A unicorn, even an average unicorn, wouldn't need this... thing, most of the time." Chip said, tapping the grappling claw machine with an armoured hoof. "This is made so anypony can operate it, just like, I imagine, almost everything else on this ship. And it works the same way my wings do."

"How in Equestria did you get such a hare-brained idea as that?" asked Carmin.

Grinning smugly, Chip dug into his saddlebags expertly with his muzzle and pulled out a crumpled flyer for the Neighvada Airshow. He unfolded it and placed it on the ground, pointing with a hoof as his friends crowded around to take a look. "See these pictures? I don't know if the photographer knew what he was taking a picture of, but I do."

Beth snatched the picture from Chip, and gasped. Staring at what slowly became clear was some sort of arcane-powered engines, the griffoness exclaimed, "Those are motive runes! Almost exactly the same as the ones on your wings!"

Chip just nodded. "With a bit of help, I can get this ship running in no time."

"But I thought you said it wasn't working?" asked Bella shrewdly, tapping Chip in his armoured chest.

Chip swelled with pride. "I'll deal with that," he said haughtily. Then he deflated slightly. "...I'm going to need a pencil, and some paper to write a letter on. I hope Spike's still up."

"Well before you write your Hearthswarming gift list," said Carmine, rolling her eyes, "we need to go find the bridge. Wherever these engines of yours are, we'll have to get to the bridge first."

♠♣♥♦

The ship, as it turned out, was separated into three main decks, and each deck was split into two or three compartments. Hatches and staircases led between levels, and bulkhead doors could seal off sections incase of trouble. There were lifts for larger goods, but these were non-responsive. The hold was on the middle gundeck near the back, and the main bridge was on the forward upper deck. It had a breathtaking view of the hangar through extremely thick window-panes that appeared to be made out of solid diamond, and a straight run through to the aft observation deck, which was lined with a second set of bridge systems and fire controls.

What wasn't in the secondary bridge, were four large, ornate glass-and-brass tubes. Their design was tantalizingly familiar to the two Bevelmiter tubes on Chip's back, though far more utilitarian, and a lot bigger. They were also dark and lifeless.

Ruff scampered in, tail wagging furiously. He leaped onto various control panels and started flicking switches, turning knobs and pushing buttons. Leaping down again, he scampered right up to the window, planting his muzzle as hard against it as he could, fogging the pane with his breath. His tail wagged even more furiously as he turned to the group. "Wow, this place look just like episode ninety two of Daring Do, where the evil Count Chaos tried to steal the Golden Falcon of Arkronos! Evil Count has airship, and threatens to drop Daring into volcano, and—" Ruff bounded from panel to panel and back, before scampering into the middle of the room, muzzle still going. Chip chuckled, but tuned him out as he continued to examine the setup.

The Bridge was a large, semicircular space set on two levels. The lower level held the four pillars, which contained the ship's Bevelmiter tubes, and several other consoles for controlling the ship's systems. One major station held microphones, headphones and a large selection of dials – presumably this was communications. Another had what looked like an orrery and a neatly-rolled selection of maps, and the tools to make sense of them – obviously navigation and attitude control. The curious thing was a raised, rune-covered block featuring a neat hole, and four hoof-marks on the deck near the console, but set slightly apart from it.

"How's it feel, Pin?" asked Chip, ears pricking up, tail high in anticipation.

"I think... I think I can make it go where you want, if you can make it go at all," replied Hairpin thoughtfully, ears likewise pricking up as she poked and prodded at the semi-familiar controls. The pegasus pointed, "Those are engines, that's communications, somewhere around here will be the inter-ship systems, internal power regulators... and that," Hairpin pointed to the orrery-and-map station, "is celestial navigation."

Bella looked at Hairpin wordlessly for a second, then approached the arcane device, cautiously. She lipped at it experimentally, shy of engaging her horn with the magical artifact, noting how it moved and clicked as the gears moved smoothly on their tracks, before walking past it. She dropped her nose to the floor and sniffed gingerly at the hoof-shaped indentations before lifting her muzzle to pear at the horn-lock on the console. Gently inserting her horn into the aperture and placing her hooves into the indented metal-lined markings in the otherwise polished wooden floor, she gasped. "Guys, this is... this is unicorn-centric arcane technology!"

"I thought so," said Chip, almost to himself. "Most of the work can be done by any pony, but it figures there'd be things only unicorns can do. Be careful, but you're our mage, Bella."

"I th-think I can work this. How hard can it be?" Bella gulped, and her horn lit up as she explored the station for anything resembling a manual. Locating it in a cupboard and pulling it out onto the floor, she flipped it open. With a heavy sigh full of worry, she slumped to the floor in a comfortable heap and started to read.

Carmine and Hairpin shared an amused look with each other as they stared at the ecstatic Ruff as he energetically pushed buttons and twisted nobs. Carmine rolled her eyes and puffed her neck-feathers out in mirth. The elder pegasus winked, then gestured to the upper deck. Nodding in reply, Carmine headed up one of the large spiral ramps. Hairpin trotted eagerly up the other.

"I think I found defence and weaponry, if I'm reading the signs for cannons and shields right," said Carmine. She whistled appreciatively as she flicked a few switches. "This is one wicked bird, Chip. You know we're in so much trouble for being here, right?"

"In for a penny, in for the whole bit, right?" Chip answered, grinning hopefully up at Carmine as she leaned over the rails.

"I'd say what could possibly go wrong," chirped Carmine wryly, thumping the wooden banister twice with a foreclaw for luck, "but I really don't want to jinx it."

"I've definitely got the engines, and... some sort of auxilliary power systems," called Hairpin from the back of the bridge's upper deck. "I think I know what this all does."

"Good," replied Chip, his voice echoing, "you're in charge of teaching the rest of us then." He nodded his head thoughtfully as he paced around the cabin, "This is just perfect. I'll have to modify the runic structure to account for the four tubes, and we'll need a large amount of paint or ink for all the scrying, some fine brushes for the more delicate sigils..."

Bella shivered slightly as the pony-shaped dragon muttered to himself. She was no grand mage, but she was a magic-user. The tubes were quiescent, but they still exuded a latent force which tiptoed up and down her spine and whispered in her ears. Chip had to ask twice to snap her out of it.

"—what?" she asked, shaking her head as the dragon's voice bounced again through her head.

"I said 'which way's North'?"

"That way," said Hairpin from on high, pointing to the starboard side of the bridge. "They'll want to launch this thing at dawn, when the sun's behind it, so—"

"Thanks." Chip turned curtly away and dug into his saddle bags for a notebook as he summarily ignored the pegasus. She scowled, but he didn't see it. He pulled it out and flipped the pages, nodding to himself. Scribbling furiously, he tore off a leaf and incinerated it. Looking up, his eyes gleamed with mischief. "Now we wait."

Bethany peered darkly at the strange, pony-shaped dragon, and clacked her beak together thoughtfully.

It wasn't long before the first spurts of green fire began shooting from Chip's muzzle and lighting the cabin; Spike's Delivery Service was going into overdrive. Chip swiftly wrapped his wings around his head to mask the light, only parting them between breaths to bark out orders. Between deep flaming breaths, Chip had the rest of the team divvying up the supplies and placing them at strategic points throughout the cabin. First came pots and pots of ink; they soon dotted the room like metallic mushrooms. Then came paintbrushes. In next to no time, a wide selection of brushes were all neatly stacked according to size and specification.

When the delivery was finally over, Chip was panting with the strain. He knew he had no time to rest, though. "Guys," he said, chest still heaving, "we could be discovered at any moment. Let's get to work. Anybody with good brush-control, put your wings, hooves or paws up. I've got diagrams in my notebook, we'll take it steady." Seven pairs of eyes turned suspiciously towards him, and he couldn't help grinning excitedly.

Surprisingly, Bella proved to be a deft hoof – or rather horn – at the required inkwork, along with the fascinated Bethany. Soon, two huge, rune-covered magic circles took up most of the floorspace. The ink they were painted in was black, or appeared so in the grey half-light of the emergency illumination crystals, but as more arcane sigils and runes began to populate the floorspace, they began to glow with a silvery sheen. The sigil collection soon grew to cover most of the floor, stretching out past the four darkened pillars. Each device was circumscribed by a triangle, filled with yet more runes, though care was taken not to interfere with the existing arcane circuitry.

Chip shooed the rest of the team out as floorspace became critical, and the spectators began to get in the way. The room was swiftly cleared of everyone but himself, Bella, and Beth. Ruff bounded away happily on all fours, all too happy to go exploring. Penny went with Hairpin and Carmine to the secondary bridge. There, the older pegasus mare gave an impromptu lesson on the basic, still-dormant systems of the airship.

As in Sharptooth's cave, the main focus of Chip's work were two circles, one inside the other, surrounding a central design containing the grounding runes where Chip was to stand. Between the two circles were a plethora of simple geometric shapes and other more esoteric, yet fiendishly detailed, designs which were almost too complex to follow. They seemed to move, to squirm as if alive, as if wrought in living flesh. As the last few brush-strokes neared completion, the air became thick with the taste of copper, and more than once the three found themselves shaking their heads to clear sudden bouts of vertigo.

Bella sighed with relief as she finished. Backing carefully away, she was almost fearful to break eye contact with the spidery scrawls. "What is all this, Chip?" she asked, voice quivering.

"It's a summoning and channelling circle," said Bethany, quickly, before Chip could utter a word. Stalking around the edges, the griffon pointed with a wing to the middle. "Chip's going to stand there when he starts the ritual."

Chip's muzzle dropped open, then closed again. "How did you—?"

"I told you when I first saw those new wings of yours, Chip. This isn't all pony magic. It isn't all dragon magic, either. Not entirely. This is griffon magic." Beth stalked through the cabin, picking her way between the outskirts of the sigils and runes, and poked Chip in the chest. "You're calling upon Gamigin, the ancient lord of horses, to oversee the transfer. You might have an easier time with Forneus, since you're more of a dragon these days. So tell me, where did you learn it?"

"My dad, Sharptooth I mean—"

"A dragon came up with this?" Bethany's dark, mottled head-feathers rose in surprise.

Chip shook his head, "Nuh-uh, this is from a unicorn pony called Bevelmiter. These are Bevelmiter tubes," Chip added, pointing to the four devices, each on a pillar. "I thought his work was lost, or at least a well-kept secret, but Hairpin—"

Beth shook her head and interrupted. "You don't understand. My dad, my hatch-dad, was a Magus.... well, a thaumatologist. My mom's a Sentinel, that's why we're only Clan affiliated, unlike Carmine who was born into it. Dad though, he took the Mystic Arts seriously. Mom wants me to be a Sentinel like her, or even a Kingdom Knight, but Dad kept hoping I'd be a Magus like he was."

"And?" Chip swallowed. Now, if ever before, he was walking on eggshells.

Beth turned away, surreptitiously wiping at her eye with a claw so Chip wouldn't notice. She sniffed to clear her nostrils, then turned back, gaze searching Chip's muzzle. "Before he died, he used to teach me about scrying and rune-crafting. And if my dad saw what you'd made here, he'd tell you to run. Chip, this is dangerous. Are you sure—?"

Chip spread his wings and stomped a hoof impatiently, but his expression was pleading, almost hurt. "Beth. I know what I'm doing."

Beth's visage darkened. "You can't, Chip. You just can't." Beth's eyes were wide as she backed away to gesture with a wing at the plethora of designs. "These aren't just pictures, Chip. You're touching another world!"

"I've done it before, Beth!" shouted Chip. Wincing as his voice echoed through the ship, he added more quietly, "I can't stop now."

Beth set her beak. "I wish you would reconsider. We can take a look at this spell, and—"

"And what? This work is hundreds of years old, and you... you want to fix it? It's beyond you!" Chip stomped a hoof in frustration, spreading his wings, curling them around in a predatory display of anger.

Bethany's claws rent the wooden panelling on the floor as she subconsciously answered his challenge. "If it's beyond me, it's certainly beyond you, Chip!" she cried, voice echoing through the ship. Startled, she was suddenly reminded that they were supposedly depending on stealth. She crouched back, but still glared fiercely.

"I can't let Akhekhu get away with killing my parents!" Chip hissed. "You don't know—!" Immediately, he broke off.

Bethany screeched back angrily, claws and tail lashing, and Chip turned away. Swallowing heavily, he turned back to look at her. "I'm sorry. I forgot..."

"You don't forget something like that." Bethany turned away, almost hiding her head with a wing. Her voice was flat, emotionless.

"No, you don't, do you? Not really." Chip looked away too, but when he turned back, his gaze met hers, and found understanding.

Bethany sheathed her wings again. "It's okay. I... I know why you're doing this. We went out and... and the Protectorate Knights, they... they killed the hydra that took Dad. And I watched."

"My hydra is still out there, Beth," growled Chip, spreading his own wings reflexively. "That's why I've got to do this."

"I... understand you, you... you doofus." Bethany grinned suddenly, the corners of her beak turning up. "I just want you safe. Car'd never forgive me otherwise."

"The only way I can be safe, ever, is if I do this."

For a long moment, the two friends locked gazes. Finally, Beth nodded. "We each have our hydra, huh?"

"Chip, are you really sure you want to do this?" Bella blurted, startling Beth and Carmine. She shied back as the other two turned to face her. "I mean... the king's jewels, the staff... who says we'll find them? We didn't even know for sure they existed until last night! How are we going to find them? How is anyone going to find them?"

Chip looked down at his hooves for a long moment, then looked up. He took a deep breath, and then levelled his gaze at the unicorn. "I know they exist, Bella. That means she knows they exist. All of this, everything, has been leading us here. At every turn, Akhekhu has been one step ahead. Until now. If we do this, we have one chance to not only take the lead on this wild goose chase, but to end it. To beat her. And we can't trust anyone else with it."

"But—" Bella said, ears back, one hoof raised.

Chip stomped a hoof, causing Bella to flinch. "More than that, Bella, we have to do it, because whether or not we carry on, Akhekhu will, and whether she finds the jewels or not, you can bet she'll use even the promise of them to raise Tartarus itself for everyone else in Equestria. The only way anyone, anywhere, is safe, is if we find those jewels first. This is all a game to her, and until now, she held all the pieces."

Slowly, reluctantly, Bella put her hoof down. "I... hate it, but you're right. I hate it because... you're my friend, but since you came, there's been nothing but trouble. And you're right, it'll just get worse. If Celestia can't keep us safe, who can? If this is a game—"

"Then it is one we can't not play." Beth raised one claw in a fist, holding it out in front of her. "I'm with you, Chip, until the end."

"Me too," said Bella, placing her hoof on the pile.

Chip added his own. "Thank you," he said, shaking the proffered limbs.

"Then what are we waiting for?" asked Beth, looking from one friend to another. "Let's get a move on!" She nudged the unicorn with her beak, then gestured out of the room with a wing.

Bella gave Chip a look that said stay safe, then she turned and trotted out.

Beth followed her, but at the doorway she turned and held one fist-clenched claw aloft in what Chip recognized as a hunter's salute. "Good luck!"

A few minutes later, Chip stood in the archway that led to the secondary bridge. He shivered and tried to ignore how the glowing runes on the floor made his eyes itch. Breathing deeply, he stepped forwards. Almost immediately, he felt pressure pushing him back. He grit his teeth and strode onwards, ignoring the whispers and chittering voices. Picking his way carefully through the sigils, he placed his hooves on the four grounding runes, closed his eyes, and opened his mind. The power, when it found him, was white-hot and burning. It was familiar, but it was no less painful. As it flowed through him, it felt like his veins were on fire. He stretched his wings out, all muscles tense, as his heart spasmed. It felt like he'd been punched in the gut. For a brief eternity, the weight on his shoulders threatened to crush him out of existence, and then the dam broke. Ethereal flames roared down every brushstroke, boiling in the grooves of every carved rune on both Chip's flight-saddle, as well as the four pillars. With a painful thump-thump, his heart started beating again. With every palpitation, the four new Bevelmiter tubes answered, the star-metal buried within their structures twitching, glowing... and finally rising into the air, spinning about their central axis.

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump went his heart, and the devices glowed and hummed in concert as they burst into life. With a great in-rushing of air, Chip began to breathe again, muzzle open in a soundless scream as the four new thaumic engines bonded with him. The ink on the floor burned brighter than ever, but rather than easing up, Chip felt another surge of agony slam into him. He fell to his knees as the very superstructure of the ship itself buckled and groaned. In horror, he looked down at his hooves, eyes unseeing. Two decks below, two more Bevemiter tubes began to buck and twitch, sending a torrent of power exploding through his body.

Thump-thump, thump-THUMP, THUMP-THUMP!

The blood hammered in his ears, stars splaying chaotically through his peripheral vision as his body fought against his spirit to remain as one. Chip gasped for breath, keeling over and twitching, as he struggled to attune the two unexpected and humongous engines. Rolling onto his belly, sweat falling off his body in sheets, he grit his teeth and stood slowly up. Tasting blood, he spat. He'd bit his tongue. He closed his eyes and growled, and forced his will down and into the devices... and suddenly the pain was gone. The airship lurched as Chip spread his wings anew, and the ship answered. Opening new eyes, the young pony-shaped dragon felt something entirely unique: the embrace of an aerial battleship that answered to his every whim. It felt like he was fifty foot tall, and over a hundred foot long...

Revelling in his new power, Chip let loose. Drive chambers came online, crystal arrays began to spark and glow, arcane energy flowed through the ship in a tsunami of mystical might. Somewhere, deep inside the ship, great engines came on line, roaring into life like unchained beasts, and the airship began to rise.

There are few experiences more overwhelming than that of a fully operational machine the mass and dimensions of a medium-sized, four-story country house bursting into life, especially when your brain is telling you that you are that medium-sized, four-story country house. The floor, walls and ceiling thrummed and shook, doors and hatches slammed as the deck tilted, and all the instrumentation and lighting flickered into life.

Whum-whum-whum-whum... the main drive shifted into gear and motive crystals ignited as the Great Harmony rose on gossamer wings skywards. There came the deafening screech of metal sheeting being torn asunder as the fuselage of the airship forced its way defiantly through the roof of the hangar, the puny structure tearing like paper before the onslaught of the mighty war machine.

At the sudden motion and distressingly violent sounds from outside, all of Chip's friends bundled onto the bridge, eager to help, or at least to discover just what in the nine realms was going on.

"CHIP!" yelled Carmine, shouldering her way past her friends and galloping down the corridor to the upper deck of the primary bridge. "What in Tartarus' name was that racket!?"

Chip stood as resplendent as he could in the centre of the room, lit by four ethereal furnaces. Sweat steamed off his flanks and blood dripped freely from his lips. Privately, Carmine fought against the urge to swoon. Wings spread, his eyes seemed to glow as flames splayed around his muzzle. "We're moving!" he yelled triumphantly, as with a distant rumbling crash, the last of the hangar was destroyed.

"You're going to have the entire Equestrian air force and military all over us! Couldn't you move quietly!?"

"I don't think airships like this do 'quiet'!" shouted Chip, raising his voice over the sounds of destruction from outside, grinning like a maniac.

"Well you won't be doing much else but counting the bars on your cell window at this rate! Do you even know where we're going?"

"I know where, I'm not sure how. That's where you lot come in." Chip closed his eyes, muzzle lifted skywards as the morning sun suddenly streamed in through the windows. "Bella, Beth! You two are navigation and flight control."

Beth twitched at the sound of her name. She furrowed her brow and flattened her ears against her head. "I'm not sure I know how to fly this thing, Chip."

"Don't worry, I'll be doing most of the flying. You just keep her steady until I'm ready for the next phase."

"You're flying the ship, Master? All by yourself?" Hairpin blinked, gaze roving around the control room, unable to believe either her ears or her eyes even as she watched and felt how he was manipulating the massive craft.

"It's hard to explain," replied Chip, "but I kind of am the ship. Ruff, take a look at the intercom, we're going to need it, especially if the Wonderbolts come gunning for us. Hairpin, you work out the rest of the ship's thaumic systems. That leaves Penny and Carmine on engines and defense."

"On it," replied Carmine. Leaping up to the second deck again, she disappeared from view as she inspected the weapons console. Peering back over the railings, she shook her head. "No can do, it's like it's not turned on or something."

"I'll take a look at the power systems, see if I can do something about it," shouted Hairpin, leaping into the air and joining Carmine. Pointing to the upper deck's consoles, she added, "Both those systems are primarily controlled from the engine room on the lower deck. Get down there, get on the intercom, and see what you can do so we can get this thing in high gear."

Carmine opened her beak to complain, looked out the window, and shut it again. "Aye, aye, Cap'n," she squawked, saluting with a wing, unable to hide the grin. Hairpin grinned back, flicking her tail.

"Hey, no fair! I'm the captain!" yelled Chip, stomping a hoof.

Hairpin stuck her head over the railings, and stuck her tongue out at Chip. "You're the ship's pilot, I'm the captain!"

Appearing next to the pegasus, the griffoness squawked loudly and spread her wings as she took a full stance held up by the railings. "Avast ye scurvy landlubbers! Look lively! T'is a pirates life we lead!" Carmine leaped over the railing and swooped down the corridor, heading for the lower decks.

Giggling helplessly, Penny scrambled for the hatch to the engine room as she followed her. "Arrr!" she said in a mock-growl, covering one eye with a wing.

♠♣♥♦

Whistler shifted in his nest. Out of habit, he pulled at the collar, but by now it was more to settle it comfortably than to remove it. She had rewarded him for playing with it, since arranging it neatly was more or less all he could do. She rewarded him for defiance, since she said it made him look impressive. She rewarded him for obedience, since that pleased her directly. She rewarded him for escape attempts, and called it 'exercise'. And with every wave of love, he tasted the energy she could give him... it was more than he could ever hope to consume. And he wanted more. And more. And more. And the only way to get more... was to please her. It had been subtle, at first; more reward for distinctly pleasurable actions, less reward for the less desirable actions. Gratuitous rewards for merely 'not behaving badly'. Then it had become more... direct. He hated it. He hated her. He loved her.

To a changeling, love was heady stuff. He could still remember 'before', and it was like... fresh zap apple cider, or... or mother's fresh-baked carrot-bread. Mother... he shook his head, but he could not deny it. Akhekhu had become his queen, supplanting Emerald, and it was all down to his changeling nature. Love was so much more than merely food, and the love of a dragon... that had been the most incredible part. She loved him. It didn't matter to him that she saw him as a pet or a plaything – at once both more and less than a slave – because the raw adoration that her owning him, body and soul, sent his way was... incomparable. He was as much a slave to his own nature as he was to the fearsome blue dragon.

He hated it, he despised it, but when she was proud of him – albeit pride in her own might and majesty at being able to subdue such a creature as he – the delirium-inducing nectar of her feelings buoyed him far beyond the meagre morsels portioned out by Emerald. He couldn't even properly hate himself, because he was what he was, the dragon's whore.

"Attend me, my pet. I have need of you."

The dragon's inner voice was smooth in his mind. She did not order him, she requested. An involuntary shiver of delight ran up and down his spine. It was good to be needed.

He struggled fully awake and stood up, stretching and preening himself. He chewed at his hide-like carapace, snipping off minute pieces and polishing rough spots. His wing demanded a lot of careful attention so it would properly shine, and his tongue and lips buffed his legs and hooves to a mirror-like sheen as he rubbed them against his muzzle. He would look good for his mistress; it was, after all, time for breakfast. "I come, my lady," he said to thin air. She would hear him. She could always hear him, just like Emerald once had. He loped through the cave system, the short journey just enough time to freshen himself up. On the first day, back when he had still foolishly been attempting to escape, she had presented him with his own sleeping cave. It was low, close, and dark. The diamond dogs had carved it out for him. It had been at once far enough away that he could skulk around and be rebellious, but close enough to be at hoof when Akhekhu called. The pride she had felt at presenting him with such a gift had been one of the first tastes of her brand of 'love'. It had been an easy pill to take that night, as he had wallowed in her approval.

Entering her chambers, he bowed low, spreading his wings and falling to one knee.

"Rise, my pet." Her true voice echoed and rumbled through the cavern. "I have another gift for you, should you be willing to take it."

He raised his gaze and looked at the blue dragoness intently, confusion writhing in his bones. "What is it?"

"Your freedom, of a sort." The dragoness smiled widely as he started in shock. In answer to his silent gasp of surprise, she waved a claw, idly, as if swatting a fly. Before her, hanging just above his eye level, appeared a sphere of green light. It pulsated and spun chaotically, before calming and becoming opaque. Then an image appeared in the centre of it.

Gasping again, his wings buzzing frantically, Whistler gazed at a sight both foreign and utterly familiar. Walls of dark chitin, softly green glowing lanterns, and sleek shapes crawling, leaping and flittering from place to place. And in the centre of it, a changeling. Not just any changeling though, this was one he knew very well.

"Queen Emerald of the Firelands hive, I, Lady Akhekhu, greet you." The dragoness was smug and self-satisfied, yet regal and refined. Emerald, however, hissed and spat.

"What is the meaning of this!? Remove yourself from my presence, lizard!"

"Come, come, such animosity does not befit your station. I mean you nothing but well. I intend to make you an offer you would do well to consider."

"Speak then, carrion-eater." Emerald glowered from her throne, her agitation sending drones buzzing angrily around her, futilely attempting to protect their queen from the intangible threat.

Gesturing again, Whistler felt the eye of the orb fall upon him, and the immediate touch of the hive queen. Rather than filling him with instant adoration and longing, the touch was... beguiling, but without the sense of urgency and propriety it had once had. Emerald was, he realized, not like him in the same way she was not like her drones. The realization was staggering; Akhekhu owned him in more than just mind and spirit, she had manipulated his body too.

"Whistler?" croaked Emerald, eyes going wide. The queen sat up straighter in her throne. "What have you... where is my book? Where are the rest of my minions?"

"All your minions are dead, my dear, or—" Akhekhu placed a paw on Whistler's neck, running her claws possessively along it, smoothing down his frill-like mane with her talons, "—mine. As is the book. I offer you, though, something you lack." She almost purred with satisfaction as the changeling shivered ecstatically at her touch.

"And what would that be?" The hive queen narrowed her eyes, baring her fangs. Her wild, flame-like mane whipped to and fro, mirroring her inner anger, though externally she remained cool and aloof.

"I offer you... direction. I offer you knowledge. And I offer you a mate."

♠♣♥♦

With a loud whoop, Chip poured on the power. In response, the ship surged upwards and broke through the clouds like a dolphin leaping above the waves. The deck lurched, throwing Bella into Beth. The griffon squawked in irritation, and hissed at Chip. "Get a hold of yourself, dragon-boy!"

"Sorry," he said, wincing apologetically. "She's a bit bigger than I'm used to. It doesn't help I can't really see where I'm going, I just kind of... feel it."

The deck lurched again, this time throwing both Bella and Beth into Hairpin and Ruff. Grumbling under her breath, the griffon extracted herself from the pile of hooves and fur. She lashed her tail in irritation as she shook herself off. "You have flown before, right? Or did Sharptooth just drop you on your head?"

Chip's muzzle formed a thin, hard line. "That wasn't me, that was them." He pointed out the huge bay window, where three multi-coloured streaks had strafed past and were coming around for another run. "Taking us down again, the low cloud cover today might give us some cover."

One of the pegasi pulled up short, slamming her wings together. The airship bucked the other way, dropping like a stone through the clouds. Moments later, the grey expanse of nothing parted to reveal the same airforce base they'd only recently escaped from.

"Pull up you dodo!" screamed Beth, holding onto her station with both hind hind paws, her wings and foreclaws.

"Careful Chip, you can't fly these things like they're just big pegasi!" cried Hairpin in warning, face appearing once more over the balcony.

"I'm trying!" replied Chip, eyes wide and frantic.

For his part, Ruff had a powerful grip on a railing that let him stay with his muzzle planted up against the windows. "They coming back!" the pup shouted, pointing excitedly.

"How are those defenses coming?" yelled Chip, voice echoing oddly. After a moment's searching, Beth realized it was also coming from the speakers arranged around the room..

There was an answering crackle, and then Penny's voice emanated from one of the same speakers. "Still looking! There's a lot to look at!"

"We've got no time for sight-seeing!" argued Chip, stomping a hoof, his amplified strike against the deck reverberating like a gunshot.

"Then by all means," snarked Carmine, "you can bring your hide-bound backside down here and fix it yourself!"

"Can't! Too busy flying the ship!" shouted Chip, leaning to one side. The airship dipped with him. "Just start pushing buttons!"

"Push buttons, he says, do something, he says. Like I've been in an airship before..!" Carmine's voice dwindled away as she moved away from the intercom.

"Ruff has something!" squeaked the diamond dog excitedly. He had abandoned his window-seat and was clambering bodily over the controls. Pointing and wagging his tail, he looked up at Chip and flipped a switch. The clanking of hatches and other reinforced portals slamming shut was audible. Almost immediately, the intercom crackled into life again.

"What in the nine realms did you morons just do!?" hissed Carmine. Her voice was loud and scratchy. Chip winced, he could almost see her pecking at the delicate machinery in anger.

"Ruff bought us some time, that's what, by keeping them out if they were stupid enough to try to get in." Chip spread his wings, and the ship's rapid descent ceased. There was a momentary feeling of weight and vertigo as it stabilized. "How's the search coming on?"

"It'd go smoother if you kept her steady," grumbled Carmine over the radio. "Penny fell down a flight of stairs during that dive of yours a minute ago, when you apparently forgot the rest of us are still bound by gravity. She's behind a door. It's... a big door. It's very thick, and it's very locked. Thanks for that by the way, Ruff." Carmine's sarcastic reply made the pup whine, his ears going flat.

"Ruff sorry!" he said, tail between his legs.

"Don't worry, I'm okay," echoed Penny's voice on the same intercom. "Just bruised is all. I... I don't know where I am though."

"Can you describe it?" Chip said, stepping forwards. "Hairpin might know what it's for, and how to get out."

"It's a largish, spherical room with some sort of... big funnel all along one wall, the door's off to one side. I'm standing on some sort of raised platform... Can you get me out?"

"Working on it!" said Chip, calling out to thin air. "Hairpin? You got any ideas?"

"...I think I might have something, actually." Carmine's voice crackled hesitantly over the airwaves. "There's a button with the same picture on it as is on the door that Penny fell through. What do you think I should do?"

"Push it?" asked Chip.

"Don't push it!" yelled Penny. "Wait, do push it! if it doesn't open the door, it might open a hatch or something. I think I can get out of here by... yeah, I think there's a light or—"

"—Okay, pushing the—" began Carmine.

"—No! I changed my mind! Don't push the—!"

Chip felt the system power up, like an extra heart beating faster and faster. "Pen?" he called. "Penny, what's going on?"

"I d-don't know... I f-feel funny, like—"

"Pen get out of there!"

"How!?" yelled the distraught pegasus.

Hairpin leaped for the nearest microphone. "Flap your wings! Can you get up and out of there?!"

"O-okay, I-I'm gonna take a look-see..." Penny lifted her wings once, looked towards the ceiling and brought them down in one mighty swoop.

Almost apologetically, a siren and an alarm bell both began to wail, and a red strobing light filled the bridge.

♠♣♥♦

Flame Spire tilted his wings, went into an inverse immelman and spun on his hooves. It was a move he'd practiced time and time again. He could do it on a haypenny bit. Below him, the Great Harmony rocked and bucked like a bronco with one of them diamond dog mutts on it as the commandeered airship was buffeted with storm-blasts and lightning bolts. Putting his hoof to an ear, he addressed the rest of his wing. "What's the haps, ladies?"

"Lucky Dice here. Thaumic detector's useless, Flammy. Said it would be, those new engines... whoop! They make a lotta noise."

"Lightning?" Flame asked.

"Nada. Boys on the ground says they smell griffon, dog, pony and dragon. There's been too many spectators, no way to tell who or what it really was."

"Luna's dusty crotch!" Flame swore to himself. Aloud, he shouted, "We've got to get in there!" voice blaring over the comm device in his helmet.

"If we can't force her down, we'll—"

There was a crackle over the radio as every door, window and hatch slammed shut.

"—Well I'll be horn-bucked, they hit the lock down. This just got serious, ladies and gentlecolts." Pushing a hoof against his chest, he said aloud, "Get me Shining Armour and Celestia."

"What about Luna?" called Lucky, circling quickly and flapping his wings. "This is surely a National Security issue here."

"The Day Guard's been good with overt threats for the last thousand years. I don't need her batwinged—"

"Can it, Flame, before I rip your wings out," snarled Lightning Dust, swooping past. Pulling up and hovering, the indignant pegasus poked a hoof at Flame. "The Night Guard's solid, and you know it."

"Sorry Lightning, those guys just give me the heebie-jeebies."

"Well I go drinking with a few of 'em. No pegasus that can hold that much drink and still fight that well can be all that bad, batwings or no."

"You thinking of switching sides, huh?"

"Know what they say, once you go bat, you don't go ba—"

"Clear the net! Now, jokers!" Shining Armour's voice suddenly exploded onto the radio. "This is a military operation, not a damn night-club act. Get in gear or you're all on permanent latrine duty. Give me a sitrep, stat!" roared Shining Armour.

"We have a number of unknowns onboard the Great Harmony, sir. They've got her on lockdown," answered Flame Spire, tersely.

There was an astonished silence for several palpable heartbeats, before Shining barked out, "Intentions?"

"Also unknown, but... I don't know. They don't seem particularly hostile."

"Kids out for a joy-ride do not just sneak onto an Equestria Air Force base and steal a high-profile airship like the Great Harmony! Especially not an airship which hasn't been commissioned!"

Lightning Dust almost fell out of the air. "You saying that bird's supposed to be grounded?"

"Aye, Lieutenant. There's no way it can fly." Lightning could feel how hard Shining Armour was staring at the ship as he said that. It rendered her speechless.

"Well then, we can all go home," muttered Flame Spire darkly, "because we've been chasing swamp-gas, I suppose?"

"Uh, guys?" said Lucky Dice, breaking into the conversation. From his hesitation, it was clear he was manipulating his thaumic detector gear. Instinctively, the two other pegasi dove away from the ship. "This may not be what you want to hear," Dice continued, "but I think you need to be getting everyone the heck away from that thing and down to safety, pronto."

"Repeat that, soldier?" asked Shining Armour incredulously.

"I said wing it! They've powered up the—"

♠♣♥♦

Inside the ship, Penny's wings almost connected in a single down-motion.

Flap went her wings.

There was a sound not unlike foompf.

Great machinery sprung into life, and a series of powerful detonations could be heard reverberating around the inside of the armoured chamber, each one getting louder and louder.

Foompf. Ka-thoom. Whomp. Whoooorrrrrnnnnn—

After a few seconds, the ululation began to grow louder, to an almost painful degree. Then two things happened. First, all the lights went out and the ship began to list helplessly. Moments later, there was a huge explosion which rocked the ship from stem to stern.

—BOOM!

Outside of the ship, a titanic blast-wave of air exploded from a curious vent in the front of the vessel. Crackling and singing with energy, the pressure wave spun in every direction, throwing off lightning bolts and thunderclouds. It scattered the meagre cloud-cover, that had until mere moments ago floated serenely over Neighvada, like pins in a bowling alley. It was even less kind to the pegasi, sending them careening and spinning off into space.

As for Groom Lake, the Neighvada Air Force Base, it was substantially unkind there too. The buildings therein all but exploded as the momentous pressure-wave levelled every single structure for several square miles, uprooted trees and, five miles away, toppled a freshly baked apple pie from Old Crusty Crabapple the baker's windowsill.

Silence reigned inside the ship, it was almost ghostly when compared to the raucous, wailing sirens of a few moments ago. The lights were out, the engines were dead, and – most worrying of all – there was no response from either Carmine or Penny.

"Chip?" asked Bella, voice soft and fearful. "What did you just do?"

"Me?" the young dragon protested.

"I think he just made a lot of people really upset," said Bethany, indicating the massive cloud of dust and debris which was still in motion ahead of the bow of the ship.

"But I didn't—" Chip began.

"He only just now made them upset?!" squeaked Hairpin, incredulously.

"When they arrest me," the griffoness stated calmly, "I'm claiming you chick-napped me and held me under duress. I'm turning Princess' Evidence against you."

"Gee, thanks," muttered Chip. Moments later, the lights flickered into life and the ship began to right itself. Chip shrugged his wings experimentally, breathing a sigh of relief as he felt the ship answer his motions once more. "Any idea what just happened?"

A speaker crackled into life. "H-hello?" It was Penny.

"Pen! Speak to me!" Both unwilling and unable to leave his station, Chip leaned frantically towards the sound of the young pegasus' voice.

"Chip!" yelped Penny, exhaling heavily in relief. "I just... I flapped my wings, I was trying to..." Penny sniffled, even through the intercom it was obvious she'd been crying and was wiping her muzzle with a hoof.

With another crackle, Carmine broke into the conversation. "I think we found the big gun," she quipped. "One problem," the griffoness added wryly, "it knocks out the engines when we use it."

"Remember when I said defense?" stated Chip drily.

"Yeah, I also remember when you said 'push buttons'."

"Yeah, well don't ever listen to me again."

"First and last time, dragon-boy," replied Carmine, chuckling. "I think she's coming back online though... how's she feel?"

Chip wriggled himself. "Sluggish," he called out. "Wait... Engine power's back. That's steering and attitude control! Here comes... I think that's communications, my ears just twitched. And that... oh, yes... that is the station we want. Hairpin, Beth, I need you to help Bella."

"Help Bella do what, Master?" asked Hairpin.

"I think I've figured the ship out enough to find what I was looking for."

"Meaning what?" asked Bella skeptically.

"Remember when I said this whole ship is built so that any pony can do anything? Well, certain things are a lot easier for a pony with a natural ability... in fact, certain things require certain abilities."

"Spit it out, scale-butt," demanded Beth.

"There's something hooked up to that orrery, Bella," said Chip. "It kind of feels like an engine, but what it definitely is, is a massive thaumic energy dump. I think I know what it does."

"Not making sense yet," hissed Beth, growling. "Stop trying to sound smart and give it to us straight!"

"Bella," said Chip, grinning hopefully, "how good are you at teleporting?"

♠♣♥♦

Myristica and Cerasus swooped through the early morning air, whooping for joy as they chased each others' tails. The early morning fog was slowly being burnt off by the dawning sun, and the chill of the night was being replaced with the crisp, dry warmth of the day.

"Tell me brother, why does our princess have us out here?" asked Myristica, swooping around his herd-mate, nipping playfully at the other's ears.

"She said we would know when we saw it. We are to watch, but not to interfere. We're also not supposed to be seen," Cerasus chided, swatting with a wing.

Myristica snorted, alighted on a cloud and folded his legs under himself. "We are naught but simple pegasi, Cherry dearest, and—" Myristica gestured with a hoof, "—it is very dusty out today."

Cerasus, née Cherry, snorted wryly as a wave of dust and detritus blew in from the desert, boiling out of thin air to fall upon the countryside like a silent blanket. "Parlour tricks. We should remain vigilant, not engage in... frivolity, my dear Nutmeg."

Myristica leaned over and chewed on Cerasus' wings playfully. "We should. We really, really—"

Suddenly, there was an awful tearing, wrenching sound. Instantly, both thestrals were alert and in the air.

"'Meg?"

"The air force base! Follow!"

Two dark shapes took to the wing and sped through the air, swift and silent as arrows. Powering through the air, the two thestrals watched in amazement as one of the enormous hangars split like an egg, unfolding like the petals of some great, metallic flower. Emerging from the wreckage in a cloud of dust and debris, rose an airship. Iron girders slid across the envelope to crash against the ground in a tumbling heap. In seconds, the ship was free of the devastation, spreading stubby wings and powering skywards like some humongous bird of prey.

"That, I take it, is our target, Cherry dearest?"

"Nutmeg, I am not sure what else it could be. Stay alert, here comes company. The Blunderdolts are in town for the airshow."

"Oh please tell me I can take them out? Please?" Myristica begged, fluttering his eyelashes, watching as a trio of outliers engaged the airship.

"Negative, 'Meg, just observe... but if you do happen to let loose an accidental whirlwind, I think I'll look the other w—" Cerasus broke off as he felt the power buildup in the air around him. Turning, eyes wide with shock, he was just in time to see the airship explode with light as an earth-shattering blast burst from the nose of the craft, obliterating most of the base.

Nutmeg coughed nervously. "Uh, that wasn't me!"

Cherry just watched as debris rained around the ruined installation, muzzle open in shock. "I think I'm glad nopony knows we're here, 'Meg."

"Shouldn't we... do something?"

"Do what? They just blew up the base! Are you sure we're just supposed to watch? I mean they blew it up! They blew it all up! It's terrible!"

"R-relax, Nutmeg, I can't see how things could get any worse."

There came a meaty thunk as Cherry firmly planted his hoof on his muzzle. "You just had to say it, didn't you? You just had to—" Cherry's fur frizzed up as there was an enormous burst of energy. "I'm not going to look. I'm just... not going to look."

♠♣♥♦

"You want me to what!?" Bella shouted, staring in horror at first Chip and then the faintly glowing hole in the side of the console. "That's impossible! I can't! Sure, I know the spell fundamentals, every filly learns it, every filly wants to be able to do it, but—"

"Bella, please! Hairpin'll help, she'll be able to guide you—" Chip pointed to the pegasus, who flattened her ears again her skull and bared her teeth. Ruff clung tightly to her legs, looking like he'd swallowed a bone.

"—But I can't teleport!"

"Listen to the filly, Master!" begged Hairpin.

"You can! You'll be fine! The ship knows how to do it, you just have to tell it where you want to be, and tell it to go!" Chip pleaded, staring frantically out of the windows. Ducking and weaving with his body, he sent the airship rolling and diving as he sought to evade the attacks.

"Please no, please don't! I can't—" Bella was sweating, backing away from both Chip as well as the Navigation station.

The ship bucked as it was buffeted again by renewed and far more angry attacks from the Wonderbolts. "You have to!" shouted Chip, stomping a hoof.

"But..." Bella stared in horror at the arcane device. "If I do it wrong, we'll... end up spread into a very thin paste across whichever part of Equestria I point us at! Or stuffed inside a mountain! Or worse! And I don't even know where you want to go!"

"Ruff not liking this idea," whined the pup, "maybe should—"

"No! We're past maybe!" growled Chip.

Puffing up her feathers until she looked almost three times her normal size, Beth leaped between Bella and Chip, talons bared. "Chip, that's enough! This is insane! You're scaring her!" Beth turned and pointed a talon at Bella, then looked back at Chip, breathing heavily. "...Tell the truth, you're scaring me."

Chip bared his teeth, for a brief moment, then deflated. "She can do it though, I know she can," he said. "This ship... you have to understand, with this ship, you're more powerful than an archmage! Telekinesis, telepathy... teleportation... it's foal's play! Just... please, try. This ship knows how, it'll work. It has to work."

"If you think—" snarled Beth, balling her claws into a fist and pointing one long, wickedly sharp talon at Chip.

"—I'll try," whispered Bella.

"What..?" asked Beth, blinking as she turned to the unicorn.

"I said I'll try, but only if Chip gives his word, that if I still don't want to do it, then he won't make me."

Beth clicked her beak angrily. "Your word as a dragon?" she asked, coolly.

Chip bowed his head. "I give you my word."

"But," whined Ruff, "what about the making into jam? The squeezing flat and spreading thin?" He stared worried at his paws, held horizontally together in front of his face, then back up at Bella.

"Don't worry about that now," said Chip, waving a hoof at the pup to be silent, "Just give it a go!"

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Bella squared her hooves, placed them on the designs on the floor and, shaking, gingerly slid her horn into the hole. Instantly her face lit up with amazement. "Oh my... by Celestia's teeth! I can... I can see everything!"

"That's right, you just have to—"

"I think I get it! I can do it! I just have to... yes, I get it! Tell me, where are we headed?"

"There's only one place we can go right now – Leviathania!"

"The dragons'—!" Bethany whistled. "Last chance to bail out, kiddies," croaked the griffon, staring around the group before turning back to Bella. "Sure you know what you're doing?" she asked the unicorn.

"...No," said Bella, thoughtfully, "but when has that ever stopped us? Hold on to whatever you can find. Here... we... go..!"

Bella closed her eyes again and grit her teeth. Her horn flared into life, as did the console. Flames burst forth from the orrery, and it started to spin. Glowing brighter and brighter, it started to hum as the circular motion continued. Suddenly, it stopped with a loud click. There was a groaning note of protest from somewhere deep in the bowels of the ship, and Ruff felt his fur standing on end. Whining and scrabbling at his ears, the pup curled up in a ball. Bethany scooped him up, curling up with him and muttering litanies to whichever invisible being happened to be nearest. "Bella! Concentrate!" she yelled, eyes wide and her little tufted ear-feathers sticking flat out in fear.

"I'm trying! Hold on! I've almost got it! I've almost—"

For an instant, the ship glowed brighter than the sun, then suddenly vanished, leaving only a clap of thunder rolling across the desert to mark its passage.

♠♣♥♦

Author's Note

Once more unto the breach, dear friends!

Yes, after a long, long wait, and with a good deal of help, I've managed to get the latest king of diamonds chapter out. Once again, I am profoundly grateful for those who helped polish, buff and in some places outright rewrite parts of this to make it just that much more readable. Go stalk them.

Caliaponia
Jake the Army Guy
maskedferret
Nyerguds
EricKilla
Lazygamer313
q97randomguy
AntiquatedAnnomaly
Fangwarden

Tooth & Claw - Part I

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
════════════════════════════

Chapter 21
Tooth and Claw
Part I
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

♠♣♥♦

Princess Celestia's eyes scanned the missive. They widened slightly. Then she read it again, just to make sure. Finally, her horn lit up as she delicately folded the paper and tucked it away in her mane. "Ah," she said, softly. Turning to Misses Skychaser, she nodded politely as she put her teacup down. "I must apologize, my dear, our meeting will have to be cut short." Instantly, the soldiers in the room stood a little straighter. The messenger struggled to his hooves, quaking at the sudden change in the princess' bearing. Celestia nonetheless smiled at him, and waved him off with a wing, before turning her attention back to the Skychasers.

"Oh, that is a pity," replied Melody, in a tone which said she rather thought it wasn't, but in as polite a way as possible. Celestia was the princess of Equestria, after all.

Pulling herself regally to her hooves and bowing to her hosts, Celestia turned to Sharptooth. "Come inside, ambassador, and shut the door."

Sharptooth wriggled awkwardly. "I must regretfully decline, this dwelling is a touch too—"

Celestia sighed, and gestured with her horn as the dragon continued to struggle with his hips wedged in the doorway. He glowed briefly for a moment as the diarch worked a touch of size-magic until, with an almost audible pop, he found himself catapulted into the pony-sized house and across the room, upending several pieces of furniture as he passed. The door slammed shut behind him, and he impacted the wall with a china-rattling thump that had all ponies present wincing in sympathy.

Celestia hid a laugh behind her wing and trotted daintily past the groaning creature, and headed towards the exit. Celestia waved her gently glowing horn back and forth once, and then opened the door with her magic. Melody gasped. Moments before, there had been the rather comfortably rundown – despite the recent damage – neighbourhood of Lower Tacksworn outside her front door, replete with builders, townsfolk and construction work. Now, there was the bustling and crowded metropolis of Neighvada City. She could tell it was Neighvada from the bright, flashing lights on the humongous billboards, not to mention the signs for the Neighvada Daily on the building opposite. She blanched at the sight and turned around, swallowing heavily. Then her eyes caught on the scene outside her living room window. Outside, through the thin panes of glass, could be seen Tacksworn, as it slowly woke from slumber. Seeing her gaze, a couple of diamond dogs touched their paws to their heads in greeting before shambling on, oblivious. Melody sat down heavily on the sofa and fanned herself with a wing.

"I'd have another cup of tea, my dear," said Celestia softly, smiling. "We will be out of your mane momentarily."

Sharptooth, by now, had righted himself. Snaking through the overly crowded room, he ducked his head apologetically at the two hosts and headed for Celestia, and the door. Several more pieces of furniture were upended by the passage of the too-large dragon, who winced in sympathy – Celestia had got him in with enough hopefully-temporary shrinkage, but that hadn't changed the fact that he just wasn't the right scale for a genuine pony dwelling. Attempts to right the wrongs just led to more disaster. Eventually, Bruin just sighed mightily and got to his hooves. Shooing the creature away whilst there was still furniture to rescue, he cast his eyes about in despair at the mess. Tapping a few royal guards on their helmets when simply calling out didn't work, he gestured to the aftermath and scowled.

The guards looked at Bruin. Bruin scowled at the guards. The guards and Bruin both looked at Celestia. Bruin scowled at Celestia and pointed at the disarray. Celestia scowled at the guards, who moved extremely quickly to start tidying up. Celestia then smiled discretely at Bruin, who cleared his throat in a strange-sounding cough.

Throughout all this, Sharptooth had been sizing up the portal. He paused, sighing. "Celestia," he called, "if you wouldn't mind, I need some assistance this time, too. Though do try to allow me a tad more dignity, if at all possible."

Celestia rolled her eyes. "A diet is out of the question, I suppose?" she chided, trying not to smile as Sharptooth snorted, smoke puffing from his nostrils in quick bursts. She gestured with her horn as the dragon strode past her and advanced on the doorframe, stalking on all fours. Somehow he fit through it, almost as if he'd managed to inhale and thin himself by several tens of inches around his waistline. Once his entire body plus long, sinuous tail had slithered out, he stood upright. He waited patiently outside, nodding to passersby as if it were any other morning and he were just out for a stroll.

"I will take my leave of you now, my little ponies, I do hope you have a pleasant day," said Celestia. She bowed, spreading her wings carefully so as not to cause further décor-related issues. Misses Skychaser blushed, fanning herself with her wings. Bruin touched a hoof to his head briefly, then continued directing the soldiers-turned-cleanup-crew.

"Honour guard, to me," called Celestia primly, waiting until the clatter of armour-shod hooves ceased before heading for the door. The four-pony elite squad filed out after the dragon, glaring daggers at anypony curious enough to approach. Turning to the Skychasers and the remaining guard, Celestia inclined her head. "Thank you for your hospitality. May my guards use your abode as a temporary staging post?"

"As long as they don't expect us to feed them," grumbled Bruin, "and they pay for any damages."

"A-and clear up after themselves," stammered Melody. "I've spent too much time cleaning around one stallion to have a whole herd of them stomping their muddy hooves all across my gardens and through my kitchen," she added, unapologetically gesticulating with a wing.

Celestia hid her laughter through another polite cough behind one wing. She nodded, eyes twinkling. "A mare's home is her castle, after all."

"And, your highness, have faith in the children," urged Bruin. "They've done nothing but act in the best interest of Tacksworn, and of Equestria."

"Would you be prepared—" began Celestia

"Princess, I would stake my life on it," affirmed the stallion, squaring his jaw and looking the diarch directly in her eyes.

"Then I will endeavour to keep that in mind," replied the alicorn, bowing again. She turned to the highest ranking remaining guard and looked him squarely in the eye. "Captain Flare, Tacksworn is under your protection, but you will liason with the Tacksworn Protectorate. Have Clan-Chief Thrinn contact me if you have any issues. This is not martial law, but I do expect you to maintain order, am I clear?"

"Yes, your highness!" barked the pegasus, lifting his wing to his armoured head.

"Good. Then I shall leave things in your capable hooves. Carry on." Celestia then turned smartly around and pulled the door shut.

The latch clicked, leaving the room in silence. For a brief moment, nopony moved. Then Melody slowly got to her hooves, trotted across the living room, and opened the front door. Outside, the diamond dog guard put one paw to the brim of his metal-rimmed skullcap in salute, trying to ignore the fully armoured and bristling pegasus guards that were brooding at the far end of the garden path.

Melody swallowed, once. "C-carry on there, Mister... er..."

"Bouncer," whispered the hound in a gravelly voice. "Is princess... gone?" he cast his gaze to the soldiers inside, and then back to the rest that were outside.

"Ye-es, I... I think so," said Missus Skychaser. Raising an eyebrow at the overabundance of military-type personnel in the immediate area, she opened the door wider and beckoned the troll inside. "Would you... would you like to come in? You can guard us better when you can see us, perhaps?"

The much put-upon diamond dog wilted in thanks. "Can maybe guard better if... if there are biscuits?"

Melody smiled, on much firmer ground with these sorts of issues. She gestured to the sofa as the attendant guards placed it upright, fluffing the cushions. The hound rushed inside and immediately made himself comfortable, attempting to look like he was at attention whilst lounging on the plush padding.

Taking a deep breath in through her nostrils and letting the tension flow out through her muzzle, Melody Skychaser went in search of more biscuits. Bruin watched her go, nodding contentedly, before barking orders at the guards as he headed upstairs to continue restoring order in the rest of his home.

♠♣♥♦

The decking of the Great Harmony was vibrating, with a deep thrum-thrum-thrum coursing through the thick panelling as powerful actuators pulsed in time to some distant beat. Breathing quickly and sharply, Bella screwed her eyes shut and then yanked her horn out of the machine. She stood motionless there for a few moments, hardly daring to breathe, before opening her eyes one at a time.

"Are we... still here?" she squeaked, finally opening her eyes and staring around the bridge. There was a distinct lack of screaming, flames and explosions. Things were looking up. There was also a distinct lack of painted runes and diagrams, which was intriguing. Chip was still very much there, standing between the four pillars. He had his eyes closed and his wings half-spread. They twitched rhythmically as Chip moved sinuously side to side, almost as if he were dancing in slow motion, and the ship moved with him. The four Bevelmiter engines embedded in the pillars glowed brightly, as did the pair on Chip's wings. Their silvery-blue light was mesmerising, and not a little bit eery.

"Ruff think we still here," commented the diamond dog pup, pinching himself to make sure. "Where... where is here?" he asked, bounding to the window. He squashed his muzzle up against the panes in an attempt to see outside. The strangely hypnotic expanse beyond almost begged to be looked at, but at the same time it made one feel ill.

"I'm not really sure," said Hairpin, "but Vormardra called this the Fields of Nowhere, others just call it Between, or Beyond. It's... a place between places. It's nowhere, and it's everywhere. It goes on forever, but you can't actually go anywhere in it, only by passing through it."

"Sooo... out there is..?" Bella pointed with a hoof.

"Absolutely nothing," replied Hairpin. She gazed at the grey expanse thoughtfully for a few seconds, then shivered. "...I'd try not to think about it."

"What happen if we get lost?" whined Ruff.

"I did say to try not to think about it," replied Hairpin. "Besides, the ship knows where it's going. I hope."

"You don't know!?" hissed Beth, spreading her wings.

Hairpin shrugged, and then picked at a primary with her muzzle nonchalantly. "Ask Bella, she's the Celestial Navigator."

Bella smiled weakly, looking rather green – and more than a little like she might be sick – as Ruff and Beth both turned to stare at her. She opened her muzzle to reply, but was startled into silence by the slamming open of a door. Carmine strode in through it, followed by Penny. The pink-hued griffon steamed with annoyance, but the copper-coloured pegasus just seemed glad to have been returned to relative safety.

"We got out. Thanks for the help. Was nice to know you cared," grumbled the griffoness.

"Penny!" cried Bella, and she fair galloped over to her friend, throwing her hooves around the pegasus and squeezing tight. "You're safe!"

"Yeah, the doors opened once you, uh, once you did whatever you were doing up here..." Penny glanced wide-eyed around the brightly lit bridge, gesturing weakly with a hoof at the rows of blinking lights and scrying terminals.

"I teleported us!" crowed Bella, dancing on all four hooves. Then she stopped and tapped a single hoof thoughtfully against her muzzle, and added, "Well, the ship teleported..."

"Tele—!? But... isn't a teleport really hard?" asked Penny, her tail and ears all perking in surprise. She glanced outside, and swallowed hard. "A-and instantaneous?" she added, in a small voice.

"I, uh, yes... and I guess not—" replied Bella, worriedly, ears flattening against the back of her head.

"We're safe," Chip suddenly blurted out, eyes still closed. "Don't worry. I can feel us travelling, and I can guide us. It's like floating in a powerful current, like a deep river, or in the sea near the shore, when the waves are high. There are currents and eddies, but... it's fine, I just have to... navigate them, to ease the ship through the gaps." He hadn't opened his eyes, and didn't seem to be about to.

"If you're lying," huffed Carmine, stalking to the center of the bridge to poke the youngster in the ribs with a foreclaw, "and we die out here, I'm never going to speak to you again." She fought to smooth her head-feathers down. One of these days, they were going to stick like that. She glared at Chip, who barely seemed to register her presence, lit as he was by the ghostly after-images from the magic circles he'd been standing in.

"I told you," whispered Chip, raising his muzzle and casting his head about as if he were looking for something, "we're safe."

"Well," said Bethany, swishing her tail impatiently, "now we're safe, mind telling us again exactly what we're doing and why?"

Chip opened his eyes, though his gaze was faraway, and he seemed distracted. "We're getting the High King's Staff," he replied, eyes lit by the silvery sheen of forever that streamed in through the windows, "before Akhekhu does."

"Soo... the staff that Ruff has," asked Penny, brow furrowing, "isn't the staff we're looking for?" She glanced at the pup, who eyed his prize as it lay propped up in one corner against the wall.

"Correct," said Chip bluntly. "It's a king's staff, but not the king's staff."

"And this other staff... is also a map, or a list of directions, at least..." said Penny, slowly and thoughtfully. Then she looked up at each of her friends in turn. "This map, was it the same one as was written about in that book the changelings stole from us?"

Ruff jumped to his hind feet, and retrieved his own staff. He brought the base smartly down three times, the impacts echoing through the ship. "Ruff explain," he said, as the others fell silent. He lifted the object and hefted it horizontally, turning it along its long axle. Ancient runes were displayed, arranged in neat little rows, and he pointed a paw to them, a few at a time. "Staff tells story. Here died king's wife, bearing two sons. Youngest took up throne in his time. Here is big battle... staff tells many things, but when tale of staff is done, no more is written. New staff then made."

"And this staff right here is about a different king than the one we're after," chirped Carmine, nodding her head sharply. "We heard that already, but..." Carmine ruffled her feathers, looking from the staff, to Chip, and back to Ruff, "but I don't get it. What's so special about him, or his stuff?"

Ruff raised the staff as he drew himself upright. The base impacted against the decking, the sound echoing throughout the ship. "High King, he... Ruff thought he just story. Ruff know better, now. High King rule all Diamond Dogs; all packs listen to father-pack, and High King father to all packs. But High King... all thought High King lost."

"But he wasn't lost, not completely," said Chip. "Legends remained, clues. Enough clues, scrambled though they were, that people have been chasing him for centuries."

"Like Akhekhu," whispered Carmine. She nuzzled Chip softly, nipping at his mane with her beak. "People have fought and died for that legend, haven't they?" Like your parents, she silently added.

"They have," said Chip, flatly, staring at the wall.

"Old castle under mine," said Ruff, pointing to Penny, "had same story as book. Ruff not know, not realize, that book so special."

Bella fluffed his head-fur with a hoof. "Ruff, you're a special kid. I don't think anypony realized quite how special, until now."

Ruff's tail wagged, and he beamed. "Ruff read. Ruff read comics, Ruff read books... Ruff read about High King—"

"And the story in that book, and on those tablets, told us about the High King's Staff," stated Chip, triumphantly. "It tells of how he built his staff, because building his staff kind of... built his nation."

"And how he make staff," said Ruff, pointing to his own staff, "tell us how find pieces. And pieces tell where High King jewels are."

"So we have to hope that Akhekhu doesn't have any diamond dogs as smart as Ruff, here," said Penny, nuzzling the pup.

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't," said Chip, "but I doubt that'll slow her down for long. So it's all down to us to get to the pieces first." Chips eyes unfocused for a second, and then he grinned widely, fixing his gaze on his friends. "And the good news is, we're there." Straightening up, he stretched his wings and then spread them, a determined look on his muzzle. Outside the ship, the ceaselessly shifting grey of whatever nether-plane of existence they were sailing through suddenly ripped asunder, and the enormous bulk of the Great Harmony slipped through into normal space, with a blinding flash of light and a rumble of thunder.

A yellow sun shone brightly in a brilliantly blue expanse of sky that hung over a scintillating immensity of green ocean. The airship thundered through the air, swiftly leaving first the enticing waters and then the pristine sand-swept shore behind them as they rounded on a massive, spire-laden citadel. Almost immediately, Ruff ran to a control panel and flipped a switch. There was the reverberating sound of locks being disengaged all throughout the ship, and then a sudden blast of scorching-hot air wafted through the cabin. Ruff had opened a window. He leaned out, opened his muzzle in a huge grin and let his tongue loll in the breeze. Breathing heavily, taking in all the scents and odours he could, the troll-pup pulled his head back in, eyes gleaming. "We made it!" he shouted, jumping into the air excitedly. "This... this fantastic!"

"You might want to cover your ears for this bit," said Chip, grinning wickedly as he eyed the city rolling beneath them. "I've got to tell them we're here."

"What?" asked Carmine, her neck-feathers fluffing out. "Why? What are you going to—"

Chip took a deep breath, inflating his chest as much as he could, before letting all the air out in one massive bellow, sweeping his wings back. The ship lurched as the ornithopter mechanisms mimicked his own. The roar of greeting and triumph echoed through every corridor in the ship, amplified to monumental levels by the public address system, and it left the entire makeshift crew reeling.

"DID YOU HAVE TO ROAR SO LOUD?!" shouted Carmine, swiping at Chip, who ducked playfully.

"WHAT?" shouted Beth, tapping Carmine on the shoulder.

"I SAID—" began Carmine, still shouting, as she turned around to face Beth.

"I SAID I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" yelled Beth.

"WHAT?" roared Carmine.

Chip just sniggered and spread his wings again as he began to spiral down for a landing. It was a slow and gentle descent accompanied by multiple one-sided arguments and exclamations, as hearing gradually returned to the makeshift crew. A few minutes passed, filled with leisurely cruising. Chip's ears twitched as he picked up the answering roars and bellows of greeting from a thousand other dragons in the skies and streets below them, and great shadows flit across the sun, buffeting the airship with their passage.

Suddenly, he cocked his head to one side at an unseen disturbance only he seemed to have sensed. Moments later, a ghostly will o' the wisp flickered into being just in front of his head. It danced momentarily before him, before zipping off to circle the bridge. It circumnavigated the enclosed space, leaping from crew member to crew member before taking up station near the bay windows. Once there, it brightened and solidified until, with a final flash, it resolved into the form of a large, winged stag. He bowed once before Chip and then straightened.

"My mistress sends you greetings, travellers. Your arrival, however unexpected, is no less welcomed for its spontaneity."

"What in Equestria is that?" exclaimed Penny, blinking in shock. She stared open-mouthed at the incredible being. He was russet brown in colour, even-hued all over his cervine body. His coat shone with a bright coppery sheen, and where his wings met his flanks, that coppery glow turned to exquisite turquoise, emerald greens and a deep blue. His wings were enormous, far bigger than the appreciably big yet relatively diminutive spans of pegasi, and were sized more in relation to normal birds. His rack was impressive, extending several feet above his head, a weight which he seemed to bear without difficulty. His muscles gleamed beneath his coat, and he held himself proudly, studying them with deep, brown eyes.

"He's a peryton," said Hairpin out of the side of her mouth, warily circling. "Messenger of the dragons." She drew herself up, fluffing her wings and raising her tail as she walked haughtily towards him. "I am Hairpin Turn, First Chosen of Chiphoof Irontail Leatherback, scion of the Diamond Expanse and Lord pro-tem of the Sapphire Reaches." She inclined her head first to Chip and then to the strange creature before her, bowing with one leg bent.

The peryton did the same, horned antlers almost reaching the deck. "I am Julius Agricola," he replied, "messenger of my mistress, Galeru, Queen Dowager of the Barchan Halls. Her demesnes is trade and travel. State your business, crew roster and intent."

Hairpin bowed again, before turning to each person in turn, pointing them out for Julius. "Carmine Wildfeather and Bethany Lionstuft of the Tacksworn Protectorate, honour guard. Bright Pinion, my Adjutant. Isabella Liriope, mage in training, and Ruff—" Hairpin hesitated.

"Ruff Skychaser," said Ruff, "Advisor to clan."

"Advisor," echoed Hairpin. "We are here to, uh..." Hairpin faltered.

"Be at peace, my pet," said Chip smoothly. Mentally taking a deep breath, he sheathed his wings and addressed Julius directly, as if his next request were the most banal thing in the world. "This meeting is... clandestine, but benign. We are here to see the emperor."

♠♣♥♦

General Stormhoof was having a bad day. It had started so promisingly, too, with perfect weather on order for the airshow, the Wonderbolts being put under his command – even if only technically – and the pride of the Equestrian Air-Navy on display for all the little tykes to gawk at.

And then somebody had had the unmitigated gall to steal his new airship, swat the Wonderbolts into traction with its Wing Motion Gun and demolish the entire base at Groom Lake, leaving the third infantry licking its wounds in disarray.

What was worse, Equestria was technically – finally! – at war and he was going to miss it, because now that the princess and a dragon of all creatures had shown up, the only place he was headed was a little retirement shack. On the moon.

And so he stood at attention. He stood, it has to be said, at the most attentionest anypony had ever stood at. "Your Highness," he said gruffly, eyes fixed on the horizon. He stood where the front gate had been the day before – where it had still stood up until a few hours ago.

"At ease, Stormy, we're all friends here," said the princess nonchalantly.

"B-but—" he blustered, eyeing the dragon.

"Him? Oh, don't mind the ambassador."

Stormhoof squeaked, he very much did mind embarrassing himself in front of a visiting dignitary.

Sharptooth raised one eye-ridge at the princess, before inclining his head ever so slightly at the general. "Good morning, Sir. I would that we could have met under more auspicious and less pressing circumstances."

The general's countenance clouded imperceptibly.

"I have heard," Sharptooth added, "good things about your record, and your exemplary behaviour under such an... event, as this."

The general straightened slightly.

"Leading by example," stated Sharptooth, waving a claw, "keeping a cool head whilst around you others are losing theirs and all that. I trust casualties were minimal, with such swift and decisive command?"

The general puffed out his chest. There was still 'retirement' written in his future, he was quite clear of that, but now it had less 'moon' and more 'sunbathing'. Or at least fishing with the griffons and golf with the boys. "All in all, we were... lucky," he chanced, glancing surreptitiously at the princess. When she showed no outward sign of taking umbrage at his choice of words, he continued. "Other than the Wonderbolt Reserves, who were hospitalized with sprains, bruises and a few cracked ribs, we got off more or less unscathed."

The princess eyed the devastation, eyes flicking from the general to the ruined base and back.

"...Other than material damage, of course. Our unicorns were able to shield most of the less hardy personnel – technicians and so forth – whilst our earth pony troops employed their training and endurance. Our pegasi were swift enough to evacuate, and though they were scattered, they regrouped swiftly. No fatalities, though damage is—" he paused, turning. A single solitary tumbleweed blew across the smashed airfield. He gulped, before continuing, "—extensive."

"Estimations?

"Well..." he licked his lips and pulled a checklist from his star-studded saddlebags. "We have three barracks, two mess-halls, the officer's mess, administration hall and rec building and four hangars. And one pie."

"A pie?" Celestia froze.

"Y-yes. Knocked from a windowsill—"

"Classification?" she asked, jaws working wordlessly.

"Classifi..? It, uh, was an apple pie?"

"Full crust?" This was asked in almost a whisper.

"Yes, your highness. Deep dish, with cinnamon."

"A full crust, deep dish cinnamon and apple pie..!" Celestia put a hoof to her muzzle, biting at a fetlock. "Sugar topping?"

"Ahh..." Stormhoof checked. "Brown?" he hazarded.

"Brown sugar!" Celestia looked away, her voice almost a squeak, wiping at her muzzle with a wing. "Brave, brave soul! To be met with such an ignominious fate!"

"B-but we h-had no—"

"I suppose nothing could be done?" asked Celestia. Her ears pricked up, full of hope, but her eyes were wide and mournful.

"We-ell, construction crews are already clearing the debris and have begun reconstruction of the hangars – they're the best place to store whatever replacement materiel we require—"

"Yes, yes, buildings can be replaced," said the princess, waving a wing. She turned away, eyes shining wetly, "but a pie lost... is a treasure gone forever."

Sharptooth rolled his eyes, and bent down to place a single claw on the general's forehead. Speaking softly but clearly, he said, "The princess is pleased with your performance, and though distraught, the nobility of spirit in you and your troops is exemplary. Carry on. And forget about the pie."

The general reeled slightly, eyes unfocused for a moment. Then he shook his head, ears perking up in happiness. "Thank you, your highness! We'll get to work at once."

Nodding in satisfaction, Sharptooth placed a conciliatory wing over the distraught alicorn, and led her smartly away from the airfield base and back towards her waiting honour guard.

"Mister Sharptooth, Sir," hissed one of the guards, once they were safely on the move and more or less out of earshot, "what's the situation?"

The dragon looked around at the mourning princess before turning back to the soldier. "Deep dish, apple and cinnamon."

To his credit, the guard only hesitated for a moment. Then his ears flattened against his skull in shock. "Full crust?"

Sharptooth nodded, "And brown sugar topping."

The soldier whistled appreciatively. "That's bad."

"What are you thinking we should do, my good pony?" Sharptooth asked. "Soufflé?" he hazarded.

The guard sucked his breath in through his teeth and shook his head once. In reverent tones, he replied, "I think we may have to go straight to Death By Chocolate."

Sharptooth nodded sadly in agreement. He brooded for a moment before perking up. He turned to the guard, "I know just the place!"

♠♣♥♦

"You wish to see..." Julius' eyes bulged slightly, "Quetzacoatl? Th-the emperor?"

Chip simply nodded, and Julius went silent for a moment, eyes unfocused as he talked with a distant listener. Finally fixing his gaze back upon Chip, the peryton bowed. "It has been arranged." At the group's astonished expressions, he shifted his stance and straightened proudly. "My mistress is capable and powerful," he said, holding his head high.

"I trust that payment will not be a problem?" asked Hairpin nonchalantly.

Julius sniffed as if insulted. "Money is not an issue," he said, turning around and stalking towards the large bay windows. "Your master has been granted access to facilities as befits his station. My mistress is aware of his... holdings. She trusts that he will be wise enough to see the advantages of future trade opportunities that may be granted him."

Chip's mouth fell open, but Hairpin smoothly interjected. "Of course, my master will be pleased to discuss future arrangements once his schedule with the emperor has been cleared."

Julius inclined his head stiffly, and moments later burst into a thousand motes of light. Dancing and shifting chaotically, the horde of pin-pricks swarmed through the windows, to reform into the winged stag shape. Julius spread his wings, almost as an afterthought, and turned his head. "Follow me," he called, his voice easily audible, "I will lead you to your berth. There you will meet a local guide, who will be waiting to convey you to an audience before the emperor himself. Refreshments will be waiting at the palace."

As the ship changed course, Carmine blinked in rapid succession and then rounded on Hairpin. "What just happened?" she demanded, clawing at the floor in frustration.

"The dragons of Leviathania – at least the wealthy and titled ones – see dealing with real money as rather gauche," the pegasus replied. "It's not unheard of in other realms where dragons dwell, either. Material wealth is relatively simple to come by for such long-lived creatures, and usury is frowned upon between dragons, so they indulge in keeping tabs on each other, making bargains and deals. Chip, as far as this Queen Galeru is concerned, is a young mining magnate. For the mere trifling consideration of future trade, he, and us his retinue, have been accorded first class treatment. His elevated station is now due to her, and so further gains in his own estate will reflect upon hers in the future."

"You mean... she gets richer, because she helped Chip... become richer?" said Bella, closing each eye in turn and cocking her head side to side as she thought through the complicated setup.

Hairpin nodded, slowly. "Pretty much." She trotted cautiously around the large windows, tapping her hooves against the decking thoughtfully before speaking again. "Listen, this is very important. We all... belong to Chip. Nominally, at least," she added, as Beth and Carmine raised their neck-feathers in irritation, "we are under his protection, but you are not safe. Except for me."

"Because you're owned by Chip," said Penny slowly.

Hairpin nodded. "Dragons don't..." she turned to Beth and Carmine. "Dragons don't think like you do. Or like ponies," she added, nodding at Penny again. "They think as little of you and I, as we do of... dogs or cats, or rats. If a dragon thinks he or she can... dominate Chip, score a coup against him, they may try. It's not wrong for dragons to exert their power over others. And whilst a dragon owning another dragon is taboo, manipulating and controlling one is not. Neither is a forced redistribution of wealth and property."

"You mean dragon try to steal us?" barked Ruff, ears planted firmly against his skull as his tail dipped between his legs.

"Ye-es... and no," replied Hairpin. "Not steal. Buy. It would be better if you'd let Chip own you, like—"

"NO." said Chip, quietly but forcefully, stomping a hoof suddenly. "I did that for my cousin Sunshine and her father Silver Chalice, and... not again," he finished, lamely. "Only Hairpin. The rest of you, just stay near me. Just do not agree to any deals with other dragons."

Hairpin stomped her hooves for attention as murmurs started echoing around the room, then made sure to catch the eye of each of the group. "Dragons do as dragons will, it is their greatest strength and their greatest weakness, as pride is both a boon and a bane. There may be contracts offered to Chip, and there may be contracts offered to you all directly. If you accept the wrong one, nobody will be able to save you from it."

There were more murmurs, but finally Carmine stepped forwards. "I think I speak for all of us when I say 'understood'," she replied, once again fighting with her head-crest. She ruffled her neck and wing-feathers out before stalking to the bay windows, ostensibly to gawk at the view, though she glanced thoughtfully at Hairpin and Chip from time to time.

"I don't think I have to tell you that even an oral agreement with a dragon lord is just about as binding as any contract you may have signed in Tacksworn, and that some dragons nurture grudges like us pony folk hoard fine salt blocks. So again, no deals with dragons, clear?" Heads were shook as silence reigned. "Good, dismissed," said Hairpin, and she stalked over to the window to join Carmine, biting her lip and doing her best to hide her own growing anxiety and excitement.

A short while later, the great craft was gently easing itself between two other, gaudily coloured and extravagantly decorated airships as it came to a stop at a great, wide, circular balcony set around a high tower. Small dragons, wyverns and other winged creatures swarmed over the ship, quickly and efficiently tying it down and securing it. Moments later, Chip visibly relaxed, and the ship seemed to somehow relax with him, falling quiescent as he stepped out from the centre of the floor. "What say we get to the palace and take a look at these refreshments?" he asked cheerfully. "Don't know about you, but I'm famished!"

♠♣♥♦

Queen Emerald reclined on her glistening, ebony throne, attempting to look laid-back and relaxed as the dragon's communication orb hung motionless before her. It wasn't really working, her sleek legs were twitching uncontrollably, rubbing rhythmically against the chitin. She shifted uneasily, idly rubbing a forehoof against the spikes, tracing the delicately chewed filigree. Her agitation was giving off powerful waves of emotion, which were sweeping through the colony in an unseen flood, sending her brood fluttering about as their feelings echoed hers.

A mate, the dragon had said.

Direction, had been the stipulation.

That could mean only one thing: the dragon would exert control over her pet, and through him, she would influence the Hive. The audacity was galling! ...And yet, it was an enticing offer. Changelings were no stranger to castes, and the life-long roles they provided. Even she, Emerald, Queen of the Firelands, had been raised from ordinary, humble beginnings as just another hatchling. She understood the need for structure, and welcomed it. Changelings of all stripes served the colony; the drones met its physical and practical needs, the praetorian warriors served to defend it, and the queen's place was to be the ruler – to serve the needs of the Hive with her very life itself, if necessary.

She buzzed her wings, thoughtfully. To be linked with a dragon, to be enjoined to a source of energy of such magnitude, and of such steady supply... to trade self-determination for symbiotic existence. The previous deal – captives for the small price of having her gatherers go a-gathering in specific places – had proved fruitful, if vexing at times. Her favourite concubine had been captured, several of her mature and otherwise-capable drones had been liquidated... but the result? An influx of new food and new blood, and a resurgence in the might and majesty of her hive, even in the light of the deliberate campaign of extermination waged by Canterlot, since the machinations of Queen Chrysalis had come to light.

Yes, she thought to herself, under the circumstances, I can agree to these terms... and if they should change, I am very good at persuasion.

"I will agree to a pact with you, Lady Akhekhu," said Emerald, gazing unflinchingly into the glowing orb of light before her. "Have my consort returned to me post-haste, and send suitable messengers with – or rather as – the dowry, along with your terms and stipulations."

Akhekhu's smile was wide and sparkling, but her eyes were as hard as sapphires. "Excellent, Queen Emerald. May this be the start of a bountiful association, for both of us."

♠♣♥♦

Fork descended, glowing gently, into the rich, dark, suffocating layers of chocolate, cream and sponge. The almost ebony, edible surface cracked, oozing filling as if from some mortal wound, laid deep into the heart of a carefully prepared beast. The fork rose, freed of it's culinary confinement, having retrieved a suitably majestic portion of esculent indulgence.

Fork, and pudding-based payload, met muzzle.

Teeth and lips fastened upon the morsel, tongue tasted, mouth chewed.

She swallowed.

The four honour guards swallowed heavily in sympathy, strangely unwilling to move from their carefully positioned stations. The display of wanton gourmandizing was... almost lewd. Each guard took an extreme fascination for the patina surrounding them instead: stucco-covered walls the colour of burnt sienna surrounded the cafe, low-hanging chandeliers replete with elaborate sconces and ornate metalwork for chains provided a warm glow that saturated the neat and homely dining area. Muted pictures of everyday scenes across Equestria and the Greater Wilds hung on display.

"Oh, by the stars," murmured Celestia, "that is what I call 'death by chocolate'."

Scratch that, thought Wind Hammer, gaze inexorably drawn back to the princess as she all but inhaled the delicacy before her. It was possibly the most lewd display he had ever seen. Or was ever likely to. That mare loved cake. And if he ever breathed a word of it, he'd find himself in a nice little retirement village very, very far away from everything. For a long time. He swallowed again, and then cleared his throat. "Your highness, we're not entirely sure what happened. Reports are still coming in—"

"It's simple, Captain Hammer," replied Celestia, clearing her mouth with a dainty swallow. "This morning there was a minor, if sizeable and colourful, training exercise that did not quite go as planned. There were no casualties—" Celestia broke off, mournful for just a moment, "—and rebuilding will proceed immediately. In fact, it will revitalize and invigorate the local economy, especially as all materiel will be sourced locally."

"I think," rumbled Sharptooth, "that the Irontail Estate will be pleased to provide support for the rebuilding effort, in terms of both raw horse-power and machinery, as well as raw materials. For an agreeable—"

Celestia glared. Ever so slightly.

"—If discounted, bulk price." finished the dragon. He leaned across the table, garnering additional glares from the honour guard, which he summarily ignored. "Young Chip may be at the center of this," he whispered, smiling through his teeth, "but I will not have you denude his parents' legacy nor see him otherwise ruined through intentional malice."

"You think—!?" hissed Celestia in response, before she was headed off by Sharptooth.

"Need I remind you of the Oxbridge affair..?" murmured the dragon, raising one eye-ridge and tapping his claws on the table.

Celestia's eyes narrowed. "Fine, but I will not see him overly profit from this... this... travesty."

Captain Hammer swallowed, glancing from one fuming diarch to the other incensed wyrm. "So, uh, what really happened, your highness?"

"A group of highly talented, exceptionally resourceful young ragamuffins successfully hijacked the Great Harmony, powered up her inactive thaumic generators and then, with them running successfully, smashed their way out of the hangar, fired the Wing Motion Gun – destroying Groom Lake Base – and teleported away to goodness' knows where."

"Luna's teeth!" swore Hammer. His ears flattened, and he flinched away from Celestia. "Sorry."

"You are forgiven," replied Celestia, in a level tone.

"How did they manage to do that!?"

Sharptooth wrung his foreclaws together apologetically. "I, er, think I may be able to shed some light on that," he said. "My son knows how to enchant Bevelmiter tubes. For his wings. We—"

"What?! But he's not a unicorn!" exclaimed Celestia.

Sharptooth pinched bridge of his snout, exasperation beating out bashful chagrin. "No, he isn't. He's a dragon. I do keep trying to tell you," he added, sighing.

"Then, uh, they didn't blow up?" queried Hammer.

"No," said Sharptooth drily. "They didn't."

"Then where are they?" mused Celestia.

The bell tinkled as the door to the otherwise-deserted patisserie opened. "Verily, my dear sister, I believe I can shed some light on that," said Luna as she strode boldly forwards, pushing her sun-hat up with one hoof, a self-indulgent smile playing across her lips. "But first, I believe there was discussion of my orthodental attributes?"

Captain Hammer wilted under the deep blue alicorn's blazingly white grin.

♠♣♥♦

Author's Note

Once again, I thank my extremely gracious editors - Caliaponia, Jake the Army Guy, maskedferret, Nyerguds, EricKilla, Lazygamer313, q97randomguy, AntiquatedAnnomaly, Fangwarden - for helping to turn this into something worth your time. This chapter is the first half of a double-bill, which I've decided to cut in half because 7.5k per half (at least! sheesh!) is enough for anypony to slog through. No matter how explosive and awesome (*buffs hoof*).

So, I hope you enjoy tooth and claw, part I, as I'm on holiday and haven't finished dealing with part II yet.

Tooth & Claw - Part II

♠♣♥♦ King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
════════════════════

Chapter 22
Tooth and Claw
Part II
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

♠♣♥♦

An archway in the side of the Great Harmony glowed brilliantly for a moment before the façade split in two, swivelling inwards. The panelling shifted and reformed once more into the floating platforms. This time they led to a sturdy, yet perilously high and exposed, gantry. The walkway itself led to another wide gantry that ringed the tower, suspended high up near the summit of the beacon-tower where the airship itself was moored. Trying to look as cool and collected as possible whilst gritting her teeth as hard as she could so her knees didn't knock together, Bella followed the rest of the gang out. As the only team-member without wings – other than Ruff, who seemed blissfully ignorant of this fact – the sheer drop on either side was less than palatable to her. She was used to climbing up rocky scree to get to griffon eyries, but this! This was something else entirely.

The view was incredible; mind blowing, sanity crushing, but incredible. Below the tower stretched a forest of wind-hewn rock palaces, a sea of stone-built cathedrals and an eclectic, lively mix of narrow streets and colourful bunting. Merchants' tents dotted the wide-open squares, and awnings leaned haphazardly against each other all across the gargantuan city, a veritable smorgasbord of life. Through and above it all swarmed a multitude of creatures; a plethora of ponies, griffons, minotaurs, fawn-like satyrs, giant scorpions, eagles, wolves, and far, far more, slithered, walked, flapped or crawled their way amongst the scenery, but outnumbering all of these were the dragons. From the smallest and meekest of drakes to the most massive and proud of the gargantuan great wyrms – the latter picking their lumbering way through the throng without heed for others, as nobody was ignorant or stupid enough to get in their way – Leviathania swarmed with them. There were even quick-winged scavenging wyverns and other lizard-like pests, pecking at scraps and fighting for leftovers from the myriad food stalls.

Bella had been to Neighvada. She'd even been to Canterlot, once. But this... this was busier still than both of those put together. The sheer amount of life present was shaking her to the core. She'd never experienced what she dimly remembered was called sociophobia before. Now she would be able to wax lyrical about it, should anypony ask. The acidic burnt-spice melange of dragons was everywhere, it permeated everything, subsuming all other odours within it. She half-expected everything she touched to be... somehow greasy, or dirty – after all, stories of dragons and their propensity for flame, gas or poison was almost legendary – but it wasn't so. The city almost sparkled, baked as it was in an overpowering, dry heat that sucked every wick of moisture away, leaving nothing but its memory floating on the parched wind.

Leaning over the edge of the railings, minding the giddying urge to jump, she scanned the scenery before her. The white-hot sunlight reflected off of limpid pools of water, sending scintillating flashes of light scurrying in every conceivable direction. Dragons lounged in these pools. They sunbathed on the adjacent rocks. They congregated in small groups, hazy clouds of blue-green smoke hanging over them as they passed around hookahs and chatted. It took her several minutes to realize that the dragons she could see with such detail weren't somehow nearer, nor was it a trick of the light. They were just large.

Shaking herself to clear her head, she nickered in answer to the insistent calls of her friends, who had tired of sight-seeing slightly quicker. Bella trotted towards the central spire of the tower, the safe route down.

Ruff, for his part, didn't seem overly worried by his lack of wings. He scampered back and forth between the railings and the ship, speeding around the tower multiple times, ogling the sights. His enthusiasm didn't rub off on either the wyverns, the six-limbed lizards, or the other sky-dwellers that dotted the spire. They scattered like petals in the wind as he came bounding up to them. They called out raucously and fluttered to safety, scuttling or just plain skittering away from the bundle of energy.

Hairpin, catching the troll by the scruff of his neck, giggled like a filly as she finally led the way around to an elevator. "Everybody follow me," she said, mumbling around the struggling pup. Carmine and Beth eyed the structure suspiciously as they approached.

"I'm not entirely sure I want to," replied Carmine, fluffing her feathers up. "If the First hadn't wanted us to fly, she wouldn't have given us wings."

"You do know that there are dragons around here big enough you'd barely be an in-flight snack on the way to the ground?" asked Hairpin, smiling sweetly. Ruff, still dangling from her muzzle, blanched as he glanced at the distant ground. Carmine's feathers elevated noticeably. "Thought so," said Hairpin with a smirk, noting how Beth – who had obviously been contemplating the same – slinked back to the center of the gantry. She finally placed the pup down, then gestured with her head towards the elevator. "Get in."

The elevator was large, very large – one could almost say colossal. The doors were made of huge criss-crossed metal bars as thick as a pony's hind legs, with a latch in the center almost as big as a pony's head. If they hadn't been expertly counterbalanced, they would have been impossible to shift. Thus it was with some incredulity that the group beheld the slight-looking creature that had opened the doors and now hovered before them: he looked, for all intents and purposes, like a large, flying beetle. Mostly because that's what he was. He studied them with oversized compound eyes that protruded from a head that was almost submerged by its carapace, but which was nevertheless all but hidden beneath an overly wide, brown fedora. The leopard-skin pattern that rimmed his head-piece sported corks around the brim that swung in the breeze, agitated by the two antennae that rose out from beneath it. He was covered in bright green and red chitin, with six legs that hung loosely by his side as twin pairs of wings blurred behind him, keeping him aloft. Wings buzzing frantically, he exited the car and flew from group member to group member, inspecting them. "Hmm," he said, "yes, yes..."

"Hey, would you buzz off?" complained Carmine, waving a wing.

The creature stopped his meandering from youngster to youngster and turned around to look at the griffoness. "Haywood?" said the insect, in surprise. "Naah, he's my cousin. I'm Ivan."

"Ivan?" asked Bella, flicking her tail inquisitively. Immediately, the buzzing beetle flew to the unicorn and offered a limb.

"Ivancha D'Jaboozarf," he said, lifting his hat with another limb as he offered yet another to Ruff, who had clambered up onto Bella's back to stand on her withers. "Best guide in Leviathania."

The pup leaned forwards from his perch and wobbled as he held on to Bella's mane for balance. He tentatively shook the leg. When he withdrew his paw, he stared at it in a mixture of horror and burning curiosity.

"You are our guide?" exclaimed Carmine, moments later, cocking her head left and right as she examined the strange creature. Chip perked his ears up and snuffled at the newcomer, stepping closer, but Bella and Penny shied back. Beth clicked her beak thoughtfully, unsure whether to greet or eat him.

Ivan either hadn't noticed the hungry look on the griffoness or had decided to ignore it. Chip idly wondered if it was a professional hazard. "The one and only," the beetle continued, zooming out to meet them and striking a magnificent pose – all two foot three inches of him gleaming in the sun. "Came up ta see what was stallin' ya. Come on, ya don't want ta keep the big boss waiting." The beetle buzzed back into the elevator car and beckoned with his antennae. "Trust me on that. Come on." He turned around neatly in the air and headed for the elevator's control panel.

"Lead on, my good, er, bug," stated Hairpin cheerfully. As one, the entire group turned to the pegasus. She shrugged her wings at their questioning stares. "If you want a guide, you want somebody who knows everybody. And... insects—"

Ivan bobbed agreeably in the air, lifting his hat again.

"—know everybody."

"One of these days," muttered Carmine as she followed the pair into the elevator, "I'm going to run out of surprise."

Hairpin swatted the griffon with her tail. "Hanging around dragons? Trust me, you don't."

Carmine side-glanced at Chip, who had the decency to blush. He found a sudden fascination in the décor of the car's ceiling, a fascination so binding even Ruff chuckled at it.

Once everybody was in the car, the doors closed, and it descended. As it moved, a tinny, annoying excuse for what might charitably be called – by creatures with no appreciation for aural expression – music started up. A short while later, the toneless showtunes ceased, and the doors re-opened. The group was presented with an opulently decorated hallway, which they beheld in silent awe. The ceiling was high, lit by natural sunlight. It streamed in through gleaming, diamond-paned skylights. The doors that led off on either side were wide and tall, made of a rich, dark, oak-like wood. The spacious corridors leading to them weren't so much corridors as halls in their own right, and the group's assorted steps echoed plainly.

Penny and Bella hung back, feeling uncommonly jumpy, each nervously putting one hoof after the other as they sought to keep every corner of every archway in sight at once. Hairpin chuckled as she spied them and whispered, "Try to relax."

Penny's wings twitched at the elder pegasus' words. "What!? I mean, uh, what?"

"Dragons do that to ponies," Hairpin continued. "You'll get used to it. You guys don't hang around Sharptooth much, and Chip's just one dragon, so you've probably not noticed it with him these last few days either, but they have this... presence. It doesn't affect trolls and griffons so much, but to ponies... it can raise your hackles. And with all these dragons out there, you're just catching their scent."

"I thought it was just nerves, from the whole airship thing back in Neighvada, but it's been getting worse as we've been going along," hissed Penny. "I just feel so... jumpy!"

"It's because we're almost there," comforted Hairpin, spreading a wing over the younger pegasus.

"Almost where?" asked Bella, a little too loudly.

"Here!" exclaimed Ivan. The group had come to the end of the last hallways, and two huge double doors stood proudly in front of them. With a flourish, the beetle threw them open. Instantly, the previously quiet hallway was subsumed in a tidal-wave of commotion. Hawkers selling wares, passersby gabbling, wings fluttering, creatures calling and a thousand other sounds – and the myriad of smells that went with all the diverse members of Leviathanian society – all poured in in an unstoppable deluge. Bella and Penny's ears flattened against their necks, but they fought against it and trotted out, slowly, into harsh sunlight.

"Welcome, to Leviathania. Home of the dragons, shining jewel in the crown of the draconic hegemony and gateway to a thousand sins of the flesh. Out there, you can find your heart's desire, win your fortune, and lose it all in the blink of an eye. And that's just before breakfast. Follow me, and don't dawdle."

Ivan flew out into the scorching daylight and floated down the steps. He stopped at the bottom and turned, staring at the group that seemed almost entirely frozen into stone. "Are you coming or what?"

Ah, Leviathania, Leviathania! The city at the heart of the Draconic Realm! The city so nice, they named it twice. It lay spread out before them in all its glory. Sandstone, granite, and marble, shaped by claws over aeons; ancient, petrified wood covered in geological ages of varnish and paint; gaudy, colourful streamers suspended from simple twine; glass, steel, and crystal worked on by masters; all of these things, and more, surrounded the astonished travellers, but that was nothing compared to the olfactory and auditory onslaught of the denizens of this sprawling megalopolis. It was mere window-dressing compared to the close-up and personal impact of ten thousand alien cultures, each one uniquely blending with the rest in a cornucopia of the strange. There were bird-like creatures standing on boxes, screeching at the top of their lungs in melodic yet raucous cries as they held tomes aloft. There were many-limbed, feathered acrobats and bat-like magicians performing tricks for oddly-shaped coins or, in some cases, small furry creatures in cages. Here was a row of hooded, solemn pilgrims marching in single file to destinations unknown, murmuring benedictions to unseen masters, and there called out those offering spiritual salvation, fleshly temptations and bodily absolution. And sometimes all three at once.

"First time in the big city, huh?" asked Ivan, bobbing up and down in a silent display of laughter at the shell-shocked faces of his charges. "Yeah, hits 'em all like that the first time," he said, half to himself. "Buck up. You'll get over it." He gestured again, then shrugged and fluttered back up the steps and took up station on Chip's neck, entwining his legs in Chip's mane. "Come on, my son, onward to glory!"

"A-are you sure it's safe?" twittered Penny, hiding behind the griffons.

"Safe?" buzzed Ivan, fluttering his wings impatiently. "Of course not! Safe... pfft. But that's why I'm here!" He puffed out his chest.

"You can stay in the airship, if you want," said Chip suddenly, with a resolute swish of his tail as he narrowed his eyes, "but I came here to see the emperor – if anybody knows where the staff is, it'll be him. And I'm not turning back now." However much I may want to, he added, silently.

"And I'm coming with you," said Carmine emphatically.

"And I'm coming too," proclaimed Bethany, with resignation, "if only to make sure she doesn't get in trouble because of you."

Carmine rolled her eyes. Bethany fluffed her neck-feathers out and lifted her beak with a "humph!" as Chip's ears perked up with glee.

"Where you go, Master," said Hairpin, "I go, until you tell me otherwise."

"Ruff want see big city! Not afraid!" said Ruff. He stood up on Bella's shoulders, keeping tight hold of her mane. He dug in twice with his heels. "Giddy up!"

"Hey! One more like that, mister, and you're walking!" huffed the unicorn. Then she trotted down the steps, swishing her tail impatiently at Penny. "Come on, then! All of you!"

"That's the spirit, luv!" exclaimed Ivan, pumping the air with two limbs as he leaped upwards, dragging Chip's mane skywards. "If you can make it in this nuthouse," he said, pointing with a third limb to the group and the fourth out into the throng, "you can make it anywhere in the nine realms." Then he took three of his limbs and breathed on them before buffing them against his gleaming shell. "With a little help from yours truly, the expert, o'course. Take a right at the bottom of these steps an' head down Drum Street, towards the bridge. We'll be at the palace of D'Long Kerk in no time!"

Ivan led the way, calling out to various shady-looking acquaintances and somehow clicking his feelers at them. Odd exclamations poured back and forth, like "Yo Vinny!" – "Hey dawg, I got you that tree fiddy!" and "Silas, my man, lookin' sharp!" – "Stay frosty, Ivan!"

Penny eyed the strange creature, then leaned closer to Hairpin. "Do those words mean talk?" she asked breathily.

"Search me," whispered the elder pegasus, "but he seems to know where he's going."

Ivan continued with his occasional greetings and monologue, pointing out the sights to the gang as they trudged through the hot, dusty, maze-like streets. They wandered into a flea market for a while, but the fleas really pushed the hard sell and didn't appreciate their lack of currency, so Ivan endeavoured to leave before the bargaining for belongings started and the parasites took the shirts off their backs... which seeing as they weren't wearing shirts, could have proved to be troublesome.

It wasn't long before the commercial districts gave way to more palatial, opulent environs. First the wares became less incidental, like food stalls, and more fundamental, like building materials and slaves. Then the shops thinned out altogether, replaced with bath-houses, saunas and other relaxed meeting places. Dragons, griffons and creatures of all sorts met around pungent hookahs, smoky firepits or steaming hot springs. Continual soft murmurs sussurrated from all quarters as deals were made and fortunes won or lost. Through it all moved Ivan, Chip, and all his friends.

Reaching the palace was no relief from the glittering strangeness; it just compounded their distance from home. The palace itself was visible through humongous iron-wrought gates that were spread wide open. There was no impenetrable barricade, as such, just a foot-high stone wall and the gates – but it was crystal clear that the land beyond lay under the claw of a being that saw mere physical fortifications as superfluous. There were still hot rocks, and griffons, ponies and other creatures, but now all the non-dragons were obviously servants, tending to the dragons. And the dragons...

"Female!" blurted Chip, suddenly.

Carmine's neck feathers fluffed up at the word. "What?" she asked stonily, as Chip stopped walking.

"I mean, uh... all the dragons, they're females," he said, slowly, not quite meeting her eyes.

"And you noticed this why?" Carmine turned her head and fixed chip with a smouldering gaze.

"I, er, I just—"

"We will speak of this later," grumped Carmine, head-crest rising indignantly.

Ivan looked at the griffin and then down at his erstwhile mount. "You and the lass, you an item? Cos that's how it starts, you know," offered the beetle.

"Believe me," muttered Chip darkly, as he started walking again, "I know."

Ivan whistled appreciatively. "Classy bird, that," he whispered. Then he cleared his throat and spoke aloud as the trek continued. "This is the court of the sun-king," Ivan stated, "and those are his wives."

"Wives? Plural?" gasped Bethany, all of her feathers fluffing up until she was several times her usual girth.

Hairpin cleared her throat and extended a wing, gently touching the shocked Griffon. "Dragons are exceptionally long-lived creatures," she said softly, pausing sadly for a moment. Then she continued, with a stronger voice, "with exceedingly long memories. They hold on to their agreements as fiercely as they hold on to their grudges. Grudges mean... trouble. Agreements bring peace, with disparate clans coming together as one. Deals are often sealed with..." Hairpin stopped suddenly and waved a hoof, standing awkwardly on three legs as she sought for the right words.

"I think I see," said Carmine with distaste.

"Quite," continued Hairpin, as they began moving again, trotting past a gaggle of giggling dragonesses. "It usually turns out for the best though; remember what I said about grudges? It kind of works both ways, so it pays to keep them happy." Carmine and Beth both raised eyeridges, so Hairpin continued. "The emperor will marry off some brides in exchange for new deals, or place others in charge of certain state functions—"

"Like Galeru?" interrupted Bella suddenly, ears flicking forwards. "Queen Dowager..." the pony rolled the word around in her mouth, thinking. "That's who Julius said his employer was, so she's..."

"Yup," said Ivan, butting in. "Her old man kicked the bucket. He was nephew of some sort to the emperor. Of course the emperor married her; it's his duty."

"But that's monstrous! Doesn't the emperor marry for love? Don't his wives?!" hissed Bethany.

Ivan chuckled. "Monogamous, are ya?"

Bethany's feathers fluffed up more than ever before. "Very."

"Ah, kid, yer a lass after me own heart. Happily married meself, with the bug o' my dreams and sixty nippers, cutest little swarm you ever saw. Dragons, though, don't see things the same way. I can't say it's a perfect arrangement," explained Ivan, "but when love steps in, the emperor steps out. And the emperor himself... well, let's say that with the station comes certain responsibilities. Love is hard to come by, and bein' the emperor don't stop for it. Is your emperor—"

"King," correct Bethany, sniffing haughtily.

"—your king hitched?"

"He is, very happily so," huffed Carmine.

"Celestia isn't," said Penny, in a small voice. "Sometimes I wonder if she's sad. She lives so much longer than the rest of us."

Silenced reigned after that, and they marched through the palace grounds, deep in thought. The silence only deepened as the palace itself loomed before them. It was as gargantuan as all the other examples of Leviathanian architecture. It was made of meticulously worked blocks of onyx, marble, sandstone and granite, each slab placed with such precision that the edifice was almost seamless, the myriad hues accentuating each other in a breath-taking dance of geometric designs. Alabaster spires reached towards the heavens, topped with golden cupolas that gleamed brighter than the sun. Extravagantly stoneworked buttresses and battlements stamped their master's mark upon the very world itself, and thousands of brightly coloured pennants and flags fluttered in the blistering breeze.

A wide expanse of gleaming marble steps led up to an imposing archway guarded by two motionless, ferocious-looking wolf-like draconic creatures bedecked in gleaming golden armour. They sat on their haunches at attention before two gold-wrought doors that were more than big enough for the entire group to walk through abreast, with their wings extended no less.

"You, er, sure this is the right place?" squeaked Bella. "Because we could, you know, go see if there's a different emperor or something."

"Yeah," said Penny, "he might not be in, or maybe he's busy..."

"Don't let it get to you," said Chip. He looked up at the guards and the doors, swallowing heavily. Hesitatingly, he placed on hoof on the first step. It was very hard not to notice how small his hoof was, when compared to that step. Their guide seemed entirely unfazed though. Opening his carapace and extending his wings, Ivan disentangled himself from Chip's mane and took off to approach the guards.

"Yo, party of seven to see the boss. He's expecting us." The only answer at first was a growl. Ivan snorted indignantly. "Yes, now. I ain't got all day, and neither does he."

The two creatures shared a glance, then turned back to Ivan. "Then enter, if you dare," rumbled the other of the two. The pair nodded at each other, turned smartly, and walked to the center of the huge portal. They pushed steadily on the two great doors, which swung ponderously and silently inwards on well-oiled hinges until, with an echoing crash, the doors hit the inside wall. The impact sent shockwaves through the surrounding area; the griffins merely squawked, ruffling their feathers, and the pegasi took flight. Chip and Bella stumbled, Ruff tightening his grip until the unicorn whinnied in pain. As the echoes faded, row upon row of torches burst into flames, illuminating the dark and forbidding interior with flickering, yellow light.

"He does it for effect, you know," said Ivan, tapping one of his hind-digits in mid-air as he waited for the show to be over.

"Bloody well works," said Bethany, feathers slowly settling.

Inside, the air was cool and refreshing. The doors swung closed of their own accord once the last of the party had crossed the threshold. Barely waiting for his companions, Chip strode on ahead in a display of bravado. It was far too late to turn back, not that he wanted to. It had been too late for that the moment he'd stepped inside the emperor's palace grounds, but that didn't stop him from thinking about it.

The carpet was luscious and thick. so thick that not even the griffon's claws were truly touching the gleaming marble floor beneath. It was a rich, rich red, the colour of wine. Or blood, thought Carmine, darkly. The torches burned brightly, with warm orange flames, but produced no smoke. There didn't even seem to be any fuel. The arches disappeared skywards, to where the ceiling was hidden in shadow.

"Where do we go?" asked Bella, as their trip continued to lengthen. The front doors were somewhere behind them, now, lost in a maze of twisting and turning passages.

"I think we just keep moving onwards," replied Penny in a whisper.

"And upwards," added Ivan, much louder, pointing to a set of small steps.

The group trooped silently through the palace, huddling closer together with every twist and turn. Many long minutes passed before the silence was broken.

"We're almost there," said Chip suddenly, forcing a bravery he hardly felt, his voice echoing weakly. "Just follow me."

"Oh, I can tell," replied Carmine sarcastically, "by how all the arches look exactly the same!" She spread her wings and shook a foreclaw at the nearest sconce. Its flames wavered apologetically. "We've been following this corridor for ages! How do you know we're not just plain lost?"

"We're getting nearer," said Chip, his voice a little hoarse. "I can... I can feel it. It's like... it's like a weight, on my withers. Like I can smell smoke, and it's getting stronger. Dragons have this kind of... presence. One dragon can always tell another is near. And the emperor is near."

"Oh, great," said Carmine, rolling her eyes and slapping Chip with a wing. "Either we're getting nearer to our doom at the claws of some gigantic wyrm, or the castle's on fire. Either way, if I die, I'm never speaking to you again."

Chip grinned through his teeth. Outwardly, he was calm. Internally, his stomach was doing backflips. Chip's eyes fixed on the end of the corridor, shrouded in gloom. One hoof after the other, he told himself, and show no fear. He didn't want to let the others know how scared he was, for fear they'd suggest to turn back, and he'd agree.

"Think he's through there?" asked Bella, pointing her horn as another pair of double doors emerged from the gloom at the end of the corridor.

"No, I don't think so," said Chip, flicking his ears about in confusion. "There's something odd about this place. I can't put my hoof on it, but there's—"

"I wouldn't worry about it none," said Ivan. "When you're as big a boss as Quincy, little things like space and time don't worry you so much."

"What?" squawked Carmine.

"I mean, the emperor is exactly where he wants to be, and—"

"He's called Quincy?!" blurted Bethany, sharing an astonished glance with Carmine.

"Only by his friends," replied Ivan, buffing a leg.

"You know emperor?" squeaked Ruff, tail tucking between his legs.

"...No," sulked Ivan, deflating a little. "Can ya put in a good word for me?"

"I'll... try. I guess," said Chip. He swallowed heavily again. "That's assuming he even agrees to see me," he added in a small voice. He pulled up sharply at the doors and raised a hoof. It hung there as he hesitated. Sheepishly, he put it down again. "Ready?" he asked, hoping they wouldn't be.

"As ever, Master," said Hairpin. She gestured at Chip with a hoof of her own, urging him to open them.

He snorted at the title but turned to the double doors. He raised his forehoof again, and was about to knock, when the doors swung open of their own accord.

Inside... was not the emperor. Instead, there was a banquet, spread out on a multitude of tables that all but filled the room. The dining hall was brightly lit and welcoming, though devoid of other occupants.

Chip's stomach rumbled, loudly, breaking the silence.

"Food!" cried Ruff as he bounded in.

"I, er, guess that's for us," said Chip, grinning weakly.

"Who else is it gonna be for, dragon-boy," smirked Carmine, and she and Bethany strode straight in. The two practically dived into a platter of something which looked like it hadn't been dead for long and immediately started devouring it.

The food on offer was plentiful and varied: apples, bananas, coconuts... just the fruits ran almost the entire alphabet, right down to zap apples. In other piles further down, there were steaming plates of cooked – and raw – meat, and bushels of select nuts, grains and vegetables. There were even piles of silver and gold, in both coins and bars.

Chip trotted in after them, letting his gaze run up and down the loaded tables, his mouth watering, before hoofing a selection of precious metals and gems onto a platter. The silver tasted oddly minty to Chip's palate, and the golden bars tasted like – Chip smacked his lips thoughtfully – chocolate, mixed with coffee. He pondered again whether it was due to the smithing or simply geography. Idle thoughts of draconic cuisine fluttered through his mind as he chewed. Ruff had been sniffing at a few rock-cakes, which he had nibbled at, but he finally settled on some skewers of what appeared to be cooked chicken. The ponies descended on the fruits, nuts and grains – Bella's horn flickered as she levitated everything from quiche slices to cookies into her muzzle, whereas Penny and Hairpin just dunked their heads into piles of haycakes and started chewing, barely coming up for air. Ivan just sat back and waited for his share of the bounty. He'd be able to roll out with his own rewards soon enough.

"Boy, I gotta tell you," said Carmine, between swallowing whole beakfuls of meat, "that I had my doubts about coming all this way, but this, this is—" Carmine was suddenly silent, probably from swallowing, thought Chip.

When she didn't continue, he gulped down his own mouthful and then prompted her with a "Well, what is it?" Laughing, he swallowed his own mouthful of food before looking up. He'd chosen a mixture of pony food and dragon food, the latter for flavouring, but he couldn't resist the gold bars. The laugh died in his throat as he realized Carmine wasn't moving. Panic set in when he realized none of his friends were moving. Heart beating rapidly, he moved cautiously up to the nearest of his companions, Carmine, and lifted a hoof. He tapped her; she didn't move. She didn't give, either; even her most insubstantial of feathers was as tough and unyielding as bedrock. Now that he thought about it, everything in the room had stopped. Even the torch flames.

"H-hello?" called Chip, in quavering tones.

"So," called a voice. It was an impressive voice. It was a deep, melodious, self-assured and above all, loud voice. "It appears I have a visitor. It must be an incredibly important visitor, to request an audience with the emperor of the realm, no?"

"N-n-no," replied Chip, ears flat against his head as he cast his gaze about for the unseen addresser. "I, you—" he backed up, fearful.

"Then—" the voice paused for a moment, "—am I to assume that my time is being encroached upon for entirely trivial reasons?"

"I, uh, didn't mean... I just..." Chip's throat was suddenly very, very dry. He cast his gaze about but spied nothing out of the ordinary... other than the total cessation of time, at least.

Suddenly, pins and needles ran up and down his spine, and then the world... changed. There was no sensation of movement and there was no flash of teleportation. Nothing quite so vulgar as mere normal translocation occurred. It was simply that in one moment, Chip stood peering fearfully around the silent dining room, and in the next, the fabric of reality itself was folded and shredded around him. The walls fell way, the ceiling boiled, the floor melted, and the already-spacious room unfolded into a curving infinity of space, populated by just two creatures – himself, and a being so large that 'big' was impossibly outclassed.

Chip had gulped as he'd looked up and up, eyes slowly refocusing on the gleaming, white mountain he found himself standing next to. There had almost been an unfortunate incident when Chip had finally realized that the ivory mountain was a claw.

From somewhere up above, where moments ago had been a ceiling and now resided the full expanse of the heavens, came the same voice, only louder. "Why, little creature, do you seek audience with me, Quetzalcoatl, bringer of the sky?"

Chip rocked back and forth from the impact of that voice. He had been prepared for ancient wyrms, baleful glares and sharp claws, but he had not been prepared for a creature so large and powerful that it could bend time and space to its will.

Quetzalcoatl's gently mocking tones echoing through the room with such force that Chip wasn't sure all his fur was still attached, let alone his wings – which were half-spread in fear as they prepared to loft him skywards. The rainbow serpent waited patiently for a few moments, mildly amused, as Chip's jowls moved up and down soundlessly, the power of speech having deserted the youngster. Eventually the titanic being continued, "Pray tell, what are you, creature?"

Chip's muzzle continued to work uselessly for a few moments more, before he finally found his voice. "Sir," he began, voice hoarse as he looked up, and up, and – the 'up' word is key here – up, "I... we... I have come—"

"I said, little one, what are you?" The immense, serpentine, feathered dragon leaned closer, much closer. It took quite a time, with the air-pressure popping around Chip as an eye bigger than he was tall, set into a head which was bigger still, snaked down to peer at him. Words like 'immense', 'humongous' and 'titanic' utterly failed to do the Emperor of Leviathania justice. His claws were the size of cities, his paws were continental. His gloriously feathered wings stretched from horizon to horizon, bathing the world in their shadow. His sinuous body twisted and turned upon itself from one end of eternity to the other, wrapping around all of creation, which the great serpent held fast in his coils. Constellations flowed through his ethereal head-crest of feathers, the light of distant suns blazed in his eyes. The weight of ages rested upon his massive shoulders, and whole worlds gleamed in his scales. All that was existed within his domain and by his will alone.

"I-I a-am Ch-Chiphoof Irontail L-Leatherback..." Chip began weakly but quickly trailed off. Small to medium-sized dragons were kin, now, and he felt utterly at home in their presence. Large dragons like the two behemoths helping to guard Tacksworn were merely frightening, and brought out the most visceral of his new instincts in defence. The emperor, though... the emperor was something else. Standing near him made Chip realise just how small he was. It made it very hard to ignore the absurdity of who he was, where he was and what he was trying to do. "My... father," wheezed Chip, suddenly finding it hard to breathe as he fell over his words in a pathetic attempt at the required draconic obeisances. "He-he-he..."

"Then, little one, if you are unsure of your own heritage, mayhaps you can tell me what your father is, if it is his business you seek to discharge."

"Dra-dragon—" Chip squeaked.

"Your father must be an odd sort of dragon, to produce one such as yourself." The voice dripped with amusement from every pore, and Chip wilted under the onslaught, wings drooping. "And who is your father?"

"Sh-Sharptooth, Lord Diamond, Clan-Chief of the D-Diamond Ex-Expanse..." Chip squeaked.

"I know of him well, little one," Quetzalcoatl stated softly, eyes fixed on Chip. He carefully sandwiched the cowering creature between one thumb and foreclaw and gently lifted Chip up by the wings until the feebly kicking youngster was at eye level. "I have also heard tell he has a son. Tell me, what do you know of this 'son'?"

The gaze that was fixed upon Chip could have melted lead, and he felt his heart sink. All of the self-assurance he had had, all of the bravado, all of the self-evident circumstances of his second becoming – it crumbled before the true essence of all that is, was, and ever would be dragon.

There are times, he would later state, when despite all one has accomplished, despite all that one is capable of, doubt enters the heart. Doubt is a powerful enemy, insidious and pervasive. It quenches the fire, it saps the strength and it quashes the will. Where there is to be truth of purpose, there can be no such thing as doubt, and there, dangling precariously before the lord of all dragons, Chip's purpose seemed naught but a distant fantasy.

"Well?" asked the god, as he waited patiently for an answer.

Chip took a deep breath. He was here; he had succeeded in attracting the attention of somebody who could, perhaps, be moved to intervene. Maybe it would be enough. He looked up, quaking fearfully, and began to tell his tale. As his words began, the godlike serpent lowered him, ever so gently, down to one enormous palm. There, legs shaking, Chip spoke of a dreadful night, so long ago, when his birth-parents had been stolen from him. He spoke of Celestia who had spirited him away and of Sharptooth who had taken him in. He spoke of diamond dogs and Akhekhu, and of the Old High King... and of his fear of war at the claws of an enemy he was not sure he was prepared to face, and of the awful mistake that had lead to this trip. And the emperor listened, silently, blinking from time to time, as the words washed over him.

Finally, when Chip was done, the youngster sighed. "A-and that's it, sir. So I've come here."

Quetzalcoatl leaned back, the inrush of air causing Chip to stagger as the creature's enormous head was lofted skywards. "You haven't," came the ominously deep voice, "answered my questions." The dragon poked a claw at Chip, almost knocking him from his perch and sending him hurtling down through uncounted fathoms towards a ground he wasn't sure existed. Continents swam, far below, and Chip gulped again, his throat a parched desert of rocks.

"I-I-I'm a..." he paused, brow wrinkling. "I'm a dragon?" he said, almost silently.

"Are you?" asked Quetzalcoatl.

Chip's brow furrowed again. "I am... aren't I? I eat rocks, and I-I breathe fire, and—"

"And dragons do such things?" The god seemed to be amused.

"They... do?" replied Chip. He furrowed his brow, thoughtfully.

"Tell me, little one; are these... displays, are they things that make you a dragon?"

"No, I..." Chip paused. "I guess not." Chip hung his head.

"Then what makes you a dragon?"

"I—"

"You could stop, you know," whispered Quetzalcoatl, leaning in and turning his head sideways so a single violet eye could focus, balefully, on the youngster. "All this... could go away."

"I... I don't..." Chip's head swam.

"You understand perfectly, little one. Give up. Hand your baubles to this Princess Celestia, or even to me. I will rein in my errant subject, and all of this will just... go away. You can go back to your life."

Chip looked down at the gargantuan paw that held him, weak in the knees. His journey, his trials, could end here? Could it be that easy? His breathing was quick and shallow, and stars spat and flared in his vision. The weight, the terrible, terrible weight, could just be lifted from his withers...!

For a moment, a long, agonizing moment, he was so very, very tempted. Then he looked up. "What's the catch?" he asked, flatly, eyes shining wetly. It had hurt to make that refusal.

"No catch, little one. Dragon business is not for the lesser races."

"That's it, isn't it?" said Chip defiantly, angrily even, stomping a hoof. "You'd have me g-go home, to... to wherever. You wouldn't care. You'd send me home, stripped of my father's gift, safe and warm like... like a pet. You'd probably give me to Sharptooth, tell him to look after me. Charge him with my well-being. You'd take Hairpin, too."

"But you would be safe," said Quetzalcoatl, gently, gaze softening kindly.

Chip breathed heavily and deeply. "I would, wouldn't I? For a while. For my entire life, perhaps. But what about... my children, if I have any. My relatives, though Celestia knows I don't know or care for most of them. In a hundred years, or a thousand... there would be no guarantees from you, would there? You don't care about things you don't own or have influence over."

Quetzalcoatl nodded solemnly. A deep sigh sent a hurricane of warm, sulfur-laden breath streaming past, redolent with regret and sadness. "I am emperor of dragons, little one. The affairs of other races are not of my concern, not without a contract to bind it. It is the way it must be."

Chip hung his head, deep in thought. "That's what dragons do, isn't it? That's how they think."

"Indeed," replied the emperor, the faintest hint of a smile gracing his fanged muzzle.

"You offer me... short-term security, at the expense of long-term gain..." Chip began pacing, fighting to settle his wings as they reacted to his agitated state, half-tripping over them in his hurried circuit. "If I am a dragon, I should not take such an offer."

"Oh?"

"I am... not a pet. I do not wish to be a pet. I will not trade... I won't stop being a dragon, just because it's easier! I don't... I don't look down on those who do, but given the choice..." Chip looked up. Quetzalcoatl blinked, solemnly, and nodded. "Given the choice, I will see this task through to the end."

"So I ask you again, little one," said Quetzalcoatl, smiling, "what are you?"

Chip stood proudly, if still a little unsure. "I am a dragon. A-and I don't need to prove that to you or to anyone else!"

Quetzalcoatl shook his great head and laughed a deep and great rumbling belly-laugh that shook the foundations of the realm. "There is one person you must convince, little lordling." The dragon placed the enormous tip of one claw ever so gently against Chip's breastplate. "And that is yourself. Doubt, little one, is a powerful enemy. Other dragons smell dragon on you, but it could be merely that you live with your father. Other creatures do your bidding when you utter strange words at them, or they at you, but perhaps they are just mistaken, no? Even I, great Quetzalcoatl, may just be playing with you, as dragons are wont to do, hmm? No, you must prove it to yourself that you have what it truly takes to be a dragon."

Slowly, Chip nodded.

"Therefore, in accordance with the noble draconic code, you will undertake a sacred quest for me, the emperor of dragons – your emperor. It is fiendishly difficult, and only a true dragon could hope to be victorious. Should you fail, you will be stripped of your draconic titles and revealed for all the realms to see as naught but a charlatan and pretender. But, should you prevail, you will have affirmed your faith in your true birthright, such that none may doubt you—"

"B-but," interrupted Chip, "w-we have to... we don't have time, we—"

"—You will find for me," Quetzalcoatl continued, ignoring Chip's protests, "the crown jewels of the Ancient High King of the Diamond Dog Nation."

Chip's muzzle almost hit the ground, albeit that the ground in whatever nether-realm he currently inhabited was seemingly tens of thousands of furlongs straight down.

"I do not need them, you understand," Quetzalcoatl idly waved a paw to show his disdain. Chip ducked, though stars in the night sky would have had far more to worry about than he. "I am not interested in possessing them. Once you have found them, you may keep them, for all I care. You are a dragon. What you can claim and hold is yours by right. All I demand of you, would-be subject of my realm, is that you find them."

"I... I will, sir, your emperor-ship," replied Chip, heart thudding in his chest. It was hard to believe, but it made perfect sense. It was all a game, the same game Akhekhu was playing with him, only he had become another player's piece.

"To help you on your way, young dragon-in-training, I give you a gift. A gift that I believe you have been searching for. Thousands of your years ago, the first and last High King of the diamond dogs, Pug the Beneficent, forged a staff. Upon this staff was written the history of his people, detailing a mighty journey from his own world, a realm lost in the mists of time, to one that I believe you are familiar with – Equestria."

"I... know," whispered Chip, lamely, as the blood sang in his ears.

"The staff was constructed of three pieces, and the tale of their journey and eventual triumphs was woven into the staff itself. Inscribed by magics long since lost to its people, it also speaks of the final resting place of this great king, and mayhaps it will also lead you to your prize."

Chip gasped, a strangled cry of barely-believed hope escaping his muzzle as a ball of light took shape before him. He all but galloped towards it, disbelieving, yet yearning for what he hoped to be true.

"I give you now the first piece. It will lead you and your companions to the second, and that in turn to the third. Take it, young one, and begin your quest – or refuse it, and leave in disgrace."

There was a bright flash of light, and the ball solidified into a grisly trophy. It was made of two skulls, one mounted on top of the other, as if the upper were devouring the lower. One was a pony, the other... was a diamond dog. He reached for it, hesitantly, then stopped. A frown marred Chip's features for a moment, then he gazed upwards into the great dragon's face. "If Akhekhu had come first, would you have given her this?"

"I would," Quetzalcoatl replied nonchalantly.

"And... what would it have cost her?"

"The price, youngling, would have been equally high. For all things have their price. For you, it would mean the end of your journey into the world of dragons. For her, it may have been enough to stop her machinations. Are you willing to take that chance? Because believe me, little one, the thought that you – the last surviving son of the Irontail family, dead by her long claw, the scion of one draconic clan and the lord by right of conquest of another – could pick up her prize and, as is her way, seek vengeance upon her with it... such a thought would chill her to her very bones."

Chip shivered, but the words sent his thoughts reeling. To think that he could possibly strike fear into the heart of one such as Akhekhu... it lit a fire in his gut. He would make good on that threat, he decided. She would pay, because he was a dragon. It was how it must be.

"I see you realize, young one, where your hoofsteps lead," stated Quetzalcoatl in deep, solemn tones.

"M-my lord," said Chip, "I-I am honoured—" he shivered, despite himself.

"Save your words, little one," said Quetzalcoatl gently, "I see into your heart as easily as I see into the heart of all things. Ritual is for those without foresight. I have all of time at my command, but you – you are as mortal as the rest of my children." The dragon was silent for a moment, then, watching as the youngster trotted around the macabre device. Quetzalcoatl rumbled contemplatively, then gestured with a claw the size of a world, sending the head-piece floating towards Chip. It hung before him, spinning gently in the air. "It will lead you true, if you ask it. Ruff will know what to do; tell him it is of the stone, and that the stone remembers."

Chip looked from the artifact, to the emperor, and back again. His brow furrowed. "It remembers what?"

"Stone," rumbled the emperor, "has a memory almost as long as my own. It remembers when it was young and full of fire. The staff is imbued with the memory of stone. It remembers when it was forged and when it was wielded. It yearns to be whole again, as all things do in their heart of hearts."

"Ruff w-will know what to do," stammered Chip, nodding. "I see."

"I'm not sure you do, yet, but you will." The dragon leaned closer again, and for a moment the great beast simply regarded Chip silently. Finally, he spoke. "Would you like to see?" he asked, simply.

"W-would I l-like to s-see what?" mumbled Chip, ears flicking up curiously.

"Would you like to see... what I see?" The emperors voice was husky and conspiratorial.

Chip gulped. "O-oka—"

A claw the size of Canterlot descended upon him and, ever so gently, touched his forehead.

♠♣♥♦

Author's Note

You know how I'm always berating myself for not letting my editors actually, you know, edit? Well, this time... I did. And it's fabulous. And you can thank Caliaponia, Nyerguds, q97randomguy, maskedferret and Jake the Army Guy for slogging through this half, and in some places not only schooling me about commas (looking at you, q97randomguy) , but finding that better way of describing things (maskedferret gets an extra dook there too).

Additionally, I also want to thank the rest of the editors: EricKilla, Lazygamer313, AntiquatedAnnomaly - for helping too. It's hard to keep track because I close comments when they get too numerous (boy do they get numerous!), but I don't want to miss anyone out.

...I really wish I knew how to thank you guys and gals properly.

Skidoo

♠♣♥♦ King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
════════════════════

Chapter 23
Skidoo
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

♠♣♥♦

The stars. That's what he would always remember the most. The details of the sights he saw might someday fade, their power and majesty diminish, but not the simple glory of the stars.

An endless brilliance of shining pin-pricks shone across the dark velvet perfection of the great deeps. A myriad of twinkling lights, hanging upon the firmament, spread their warmth across the cold expanse. With claws that could reach from one end of infinity to the other, the motes of light and life were gathered and spread upon the barren rock of the ground like seeds. They took root and sprouted, reaching forever upwards until, with a fiery explosion of cosmic dust, they disgorged the fruits of their labours and shrivelled up, floating away on the wind. With an unshakeable certainty of purpose, Quetzalcoatl called forth cosmic beings and bid them make shape of the void. Light was separated from dark, water from ground, air from fire, and then recombined in a tempestuous maelstrom of creation. From chaos, a grand pattern swept forth, transmuting the elements of creation and forging life from lifelessness.

After aeons of contemplation, the awareness of the emperor of all dragons settled across the land, imbuing it with his own pride and majesty. He breathed quintessence into the very fabric of reality, setting it aflame. From bare rock sprouted mosses and ferns, bushes and trees, grasses and flowers. Spun from naught but dust and the light of stars, he fashioned the creatures that swam in the oceans, flew in the skies, burrowed through the grounds, or walked upon the face of his realm. And where he breathed flowed the wind. Where the sun and moon spun, there he watched – and the lord of all cosmos saw each and every sparrow's fall.

Chip reeled as the enormity of it flowed through him. He could barely comprehend the merest fraction of the realm as it unfolded around his extended senses, and the fact that the emperor could do it in his sleep was mind-blowing. It was like looking at a field of grass and knowing how the wind would bend each blade, how each one would split and fall, and how yet another shoot would sprout up to replace it.

Lives, each of them as vast as the oceans, paraded across the world, shaping it with their touch. And the emperor, seeing some vast plan, would reach out a paw here, touch with a claw there, gently nudge... or sometimes, as was his whim, merely observe whilst chance and machinations took their course.

"Do you see?" asked the emperor. His disembodied voice was kind, yet insistent. Chip's vision continued, and he beheld a strange, four-hoofed creature reluctantly take up the mantle of dragon-kind. "Do you see now?" asked the emperor again as a mountain fell upon two ponies, and as from those deaths spread a roaring flame that consumed yet more lives; as a diarchy fell before a neverending tide of teeth and claws, as wings and flame triumphant raised a new banner over a crushed populace, and made a once green land its own.

"I... I see," whimpered Chip, shuddering at the enormity. He reached out a hoof and gingerly touched a piece which had long since been in play. He was seeing the board as it could have been, not as it was – history was just a matter of perspective. Celestia had moved it last time. Now, it would be his responsibility. It would continue to change the game; tides would turn, fate would smile differently, and new destinies would unfold.

"If you lack the courage, young one," said the dragon's voice again, softly this time, "I can move for you."

"I... I do not," replied Chip, even as he jerked his metaphorical hoof back, guiltily. He cast a long glance over a game as vast as the world. To one side, he saw Equestria had not fallen, but it was far from safe. Turning to the nearest quadrant, he recognized the spires, streets and sheer glowing intensity of Leviathania. Above it, he noticed Akhekhu's reaching claws of blue which even now spread their shadow across that great metropolis. Wrenching his gaze from that impossible vista, he sought to return to the real world – time was of the essence if he was to escape her grasp. Light and life flooded back as the dragon's claw retreated from his forehead. He blinked, swaying and nauseous, as Quetzalcoatl's form swam back into focus.

The dragon's head snaked down, his maw billowing sulphurous fumes and his infinite gaze exuding something akin to... pride. The words were gentle and simple, but their import was not. Their force was as unstoppable and as insistent as a hurricane, and they swept him away. "Then go."

♠♣♥♦

"—The best spread I've seen in... in... Chip?" Carmine looked up and swallowed. "Guys, where's Chip?"

"I 'unno," mumbled Bella. She raised her head and swallowed too before looking around the room. Then she burped and hoofed herself in the chest. "Sorry, been—" She hiccuped "—a while since I last ate properly."

"Chip's not here?" squeaked Hairpin.

"Relax, I'm sure he's just—" Carmine began.

"You don't get it. Chip's not here, and we're in the middle of the biggest, most powerful dragon's den in all of Leviathania!" Hairpin started panting heavily, her eyes rolling.

"Uh, big dragons, dominating? This bad, right?" whined Ruff.

Carmine's beak opened and closed wordlessly.

"We haven't got time for that," huffed Bethany, "this could be real troub—"

Beth broke off as the room bent and twisted itself into knots before snapping back into place, revealing an unmoving Chip.

"Chip!?" exclaimed Carmine as she and the entire group crowded around him, pushing and shoving to get closer. The griffoness waded through then shooed the others back to make space. She waved a claw in front of Chip's face to try and rouse him. "You okay?"

There were two loud thumps, the second accompanied by a clang as Chip turned his head to look at the griffoness. He stumbled forwards and fell into her embrace, shaking and holding her tightly with his magi-mechanical wings. Chip sobbed quietly into Carmine's feathers. "It was so much," he mumbled, voice muffled. Impulsively, he lifted both hooves around Carmine's neck and pulled tightly, leaning heavily and needily into her. "H-he's been there since before time began, and... and he sees everything. Everything! He saw us, he saw this, he sees where it may lead..." Chip shuddered and suddenly pulled back, staring into Carmine's face "...and he's so lonely, whilst he waits..." Chip looked away, into infinity.

"Waits for what?" asked Carmine, awkwardly brushing tears from Chip's muzzle.

"Whilst he waits to go home," replied Chip, voice pained. "Th-that's all I want, when this is all over, Car. I want to go home. W-with you," he added, gingerly. Behind him, Ivan trundled across the floor, muttering, "Wait, gold? How can it... split egg-sacks! He's a dragon! I didn't know dragons could cr-"

Carmine blushed, her beak almost glowing with the heat from her cheeks. Her crest was so elevated it had almost curled upon itself to droop down across her eyes. "We will, Chip, I promise," she said, unable to stop herself from nuzzling her odd coltfriend. She scowled when Penny uttered a tiny little congratulatory "whoohoo!", but was unable to keep it up. Instead, she hugged Chip fiercely and long. Finally, Chip broke the embrace. He wiped his muzzle with a hoof and stepped over a grumbling Ivan who was still circling his solid gold consolation prize.

"What am I supposed to do with gold of all things? Sheesh, I bet he didn't even talk to the emperor about me..." the beetle complained to nobody in particular.

"We should go," said Chip, grinning to hide his embarrassment. Then his face fell. "We have to move, because Akhekhu is coming to the city, or her forces are. I have a feeling we'll have just enough time to to get some supplies in, but we need to move now, ready or not."

"What, just like that? I thought you were going to—" began Carmine, amidst a chorus of confused agreement from the rest of the group.

"I did. I saw the emperor. And I have it. I have the first piece of the staff." Chip gestured with a wing, and the object made of two skulls appeared before him. He gestured at Ruff, and it floated over towards the pup. "The emperor said it remembers, that it has the memory of stone... do you know what that means? He also said it will lead us to the other pieces. Do you... do you know what he's talking about?"

Ruff idly stroked his chin then slowly nodded. He peered at his claw; clenching it, his fist burst into orange fire for a moment as he called forth his lithomancy. "Ruff understand," he said. Slowly, as if it might have crumbled to dust at the merest touch, he reached out for their prize.

♠♣♥♦

Pug squatted as he finished polishing the two skulls. It had taken many weeks of work, but it had felt right. In death, there was life. Two skulls would adorn his first staff; the first was of the unfortunate pony that had fallen prey to the misguided owner of the second, himself having been dispatched in retribution by one of the terrible, magnificent guardians of this foreign land.

Running his paws over their pristine, smooth whiteness, he had spoken to them, and they had become one with the spirit of rock that flowed through Pug and his tribe. He spoke to them of the journey they were making and what it would mean.

The pack had rested that first night, tired and hungry and more than a little scared. The dragon had been the only one to feast: she had gutted and skinned Crusher's corpse then roasted his meat with her flames. The tribe had done their best to ignore the smacking of lips, slurping of juices and cracking of bones. The next morning, Pug had collected Crusher's skull as a patrol headed out to catch sanctioned game. The pony had been returned to her tribe and buried, but the dragon had understood when Pug asked for the mare's skull too. The headpiece – he couldn't help but chuckle over the irony – of his staff now neared completion. The shaft was still raw, still convinced it was wood instead of the thaumic stone it was to become, petrified through sheer application of Pug's will. It would be ready soon, soon enough for him to tell it of the next part of their journey through their new home.

Straightening up in the waning sunlight, Pug reflected on their fortunes. Overall, it had been good. Few had been lost to the journey itself, though the absence of most of their young, old and a good deal of the adults was keenly felt; a sizeable portion of the pack had split off under Howler to stay behind and serve the ponies as they made their own amends. Pug had become First Alpha almost before he had been Alpha. It made him uncomfortable, but Grash had berated him for it. "If Pug is not First Alpha, then Pug is not Alpha. If Pug is not Alpha, then how can he have done all this? How can Grash stand here beside him?" the brawnier troll had said in a surprisingly thoughtful statement. He had followed it up with a ringing slap to the head which Pug still remembered, before he had been told in no uncertain terms, that if he did not wish to be Alpha, then he was to roll over like the omega runt many had thought he was. Pug had growled at that, and then Grash had slapped him again. "See? Pug knows what he truly is. Be that! Or be gone!" Chagrin was a new emotion for Pug, but he welcomed its sting. It meant he was still learning.

A huge shadow passed overhead, momentarily blotting out the sun, before something heavy and substantial landed further around the rim of the lake.

"Lady Manasa," said Pug, inclining his head towards the burnished copper-coloured behemoth. "How was your hunting?"

"Wretched," replied the dragon with a deep and throaty laugh. "But no matter. There is a dearth of game here in the mountains, but we shall be beyond them soon." She brought her long, sinuous neck lower, eyes curious as she stared at Pug's trophy. "I see we must add artisan to your lists of accomplishments, hmm? Pug the Artisan King..." The dragon rolled the phrase around in her muzzle as she strode around Pug. "It suits you, little one."

"King?" snorted Pug, "I am... just an Alpha."

"You are First Alpha, if I am not mistaken," replied Manasa. Grinning somewhat playfully and more than a little pridefully, she added, "And I am never mistaken. You are the alpha of all alpha's that ever will walk upon this realm. You will be their king, and—" she looked up, her gaze distant, "—you will be revered beyond all others. I see great things in your future. This mighty trek is merely the opening salvo in your war against history."

"War?" choked Pug. "I wage no war!"

"Be at peace," said Manasa with a soft laugh, "I speak merely of the war against the greatest of enemies – time itself. You, young troll, will be remembered, where the fate of so many more is to be forgotten, except by those that loved them."

"If I can lead my people to bountiful hunting grounds, where we may live our lives in freedom, then that will be enough."

"And that, young one, is why you will be remembered. Come, night is falling. You must gather the stragglers and make camp. I fear there will be snow before the night is out, and the tents must be made fast against the cold and wet." The dragoness heaved her great bulk easily onto her paws and stretched, wriggling, her tail flicking to and fro as she worked the kinks out of it and her wings.

"Snow?" asked Pug, ducking as clawed extremities passed overhead. He puffed out his cheeks as he stood and gazed down the valley. "If there is snow, then why must we cross these mountains? What is it that lies beyond them, which is so important it cannot wait a season or two?"

"What lies beyond these mountains, oh impudent pup, is a kingdom locked in ice. It is as beautiful as it is deadly."

"Then why must we venture there?!" growled Pug. "My Lady," he growled again, shaking a fist, "we are few, we are vulnerable, we are homeless. The ice and snow is not for us!"

"Aye, young king, it is not for the ice and snow that we must venture forth. It is for the people that live there. You see, the first thing you must understand about a kingdom is that the land and the king are one. You must grow into this land for it to offer itself to you. You must accept it, and it must accept you. For this to be so, you must make peace with all the peoples of this realm. I may have allowed you to stay, but so must the ponies."

"But the ponies aren't this far North!" complained Pug.

Manasa smiled, gaze hard and unyielding. "For the rulers of this realm to accept you, you will require a quorum amongst the three signatories to an ancient pact that you have unwittingly crossed. For a quorum, you would do well to gather the two most contrary nations first, especially considering your initial blunderings."

"You mean," said Pug, brow furrowing, "that I should convince you and... whoever we're going to see, before I bring our case to these two alicorn princesses that you have spoken of?"

"Indeed." Manasa's eyes glittered as she observed her pupil.

"Hmm." Pug considered, silently, as he watched the enormous female dragon noble turn and begin the long trek back towards his pack. Secreting away the headpiece in a fold of his sash and picking up his staff, he hurried after her. "Then tell me, who are we going to meet? Who is it that would live in such bleak, yet beautiful, surroundings?"

♠♣♥♦

"Griffons?!" squawked Carmine and Beth, crests rising in tandem. They paused in their striding, one on either side of Chip. For a single, short moment, he pondered the wisdom of standing between the two.

With some chagrin, he replied, "I... thought you'd have worked it out."

"Buh..." Bethany flicked her tufted lion's tail. "Where are we going? Back home to Tacksworn?"

Chip shook his head as he resumed his urgent motion down the corridor. "No, much further abroad. I don't know exactly where – Ruff can say more – but I have an inkling. Don't worry, the headpiece will show us the way. It has a..." Chip hesitated, rotating a forehoof in circles as he fought to find the right words. "It's something like a unicorn's 'find-it-need-it' spell, but... I don't know, it kind of tastes different. All the pieces know they belong together, and they call to each other. Just touch it. You'll know what I mean. It's ancient diamond dog magic." Chip shook himself. "Anyway, we just have one stop-off to make before we're ready to get underway."

"Where's that, Master?" asked Hairpin.

Chip smiled, sadly. "You'll see."

The group stood before the double doors that led outside. They were held fast, clearly impenetrable without leave of the emperor.

"So, are we ready?" asked Bethany, sharing a glance with each of her friends. Chip stared at his hooves, twisting and digging them into the carpet. Slowly, he moved to stand in front of the group, tail-end towards the doors.

"Before we leave the safety of the palace, I... I want you all to be sure..." he began.

"Yeah, yeah, we've heard it all before, dragon-boy. Gotta be careful, get out of the kitchen if you can't stand the heat. It's nothing new. Let's go!"

"No, I mean..." Chip took a deep breath. "It's far too late for turning back now, we all know that. What I mean is, we've angered a dragon-lord. There is no way Lady Akhekhu will stop, now that we have what she wants. From now on, we're on our own. My father couldn't stop her, not any more. This is big, real big—"

Carmine snorted derisively. "We're with you, hay-breath, all the way," she interrupted. "We always have been!" There was a chorus of agreement, which made Chip smile, his eyes glistening.

"I... know. I just wanted you to know, too, how serious this is. Which is why..." Chip closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath, as if in pain. "Which is why this is so hard, but I have to do it. Hairpin," said Chip, turning to the silvern pegasus, who took a startled step back.

"Master?" she asked, brow furrowed. She stepped back again, ears laying flat as her tail and wings flicked and fluttered about. "W-what—"

"'Pin, you're not coming with us."

"No!" she cried, flaring her wings, "I... I w-won't..."

"You must."

"Y-you said you'd never order me again. I won't listen."

"'Pin," said Chip, screwing his eyes shut, "please don't make this any more difficult than it has to be. I need your counsel, we need your strength and abilities, but there is one amongst us who needs you more. I would not be a fit master if I did not take your first-born into consideration." Chip suddenly let out a barking laugh as tears streamed down his muzzle. "E-even if he hasn't been born yet."

Hairpin's face screwed up as her features darkened. "I'm not an invalid! I barely show! I can do everything I've ever done!"

"Then tell me how you would feel if you did the one thing you've never done before, which is to lose your foal?" Chip's voice was soft, but it cut like a knife. Hairpin whimpered, and Chip immediately trotted forwards to embrace her. "I... I know I'm just a kid, but I wouldn't know what to do if something bad happened to him because of this," he said, voice muffled from beneath her mane and wings. "I don't want you to fall prey to Akhekhu, or to... be hurt by her, by this crazy crusade. I-if I d-die, or I'm captured, then I want you to remain safe, beyond her machinations." The pegasus was silent for quite a few moments. Chip was about to open his muzzle and bid her speak when she broke the silence herself.

"I'll... do it. I just don't know where you expect me to go."

"There is one dragon, with whom you will be safe no matter what." Chip grinned suddenly, wiping at his tears with a hoof. He looked up, gaze casting around the rafters, and said, "Won't she?"

For a moment, there was silence, and then the voice of the emperor filled the corridor. "Tell me, young lordling, with what do you barter?" The disembodied voice was filled with amusement, but it was kind. Hairpin's eyes went wide with shock as Chip nodded to her, grinning.

"Hairpin Turn is the fastest, most agile pegasus I have ever met," replied Chip, still fruitlessly searching for the source of the voice. "She has won more awards than I can count, and I offer her to you on a loan. In return for the privilege of having full access to her abilities, all I ask in return is that you keep her in the luxury she deserves. Having such a prize even temporarily in your collection will bring great honour to your clan."

It was some time before the emperor's enthusiastic laughter died away and he could speak. "So be it then, Chiphoof Irontail Leatherback of the Diamond Expanse. I will honour your clan by accepting – on loan – your prize racing pegasus. Behold, the royal stables!"

Daylight flooded in as the doors opened inwards of their own accord, bringing with it the delicate, sweet fragrance of honeysuckle and peaches. Where previously had been little but the muted yellows, reds and browns of sandstone and desert, set against the backdrop of parched rock and the distant tang of salt from the ocean, now flourished the verdant green of meticulously cultured lawns. A mighty, winged stag strode purposefully towards them, chest held proudly out before him as he regarded them with an intense, yet kind, gaze. He towered above even Hairpin, the tallest of the group, and outmassed both griffons put together. His wise eyes were a warm light brown, and his pelt was a soft azure blue.

"I am Lucretius, head curator, groundskeeper and stablemaster to the emperor," he intoned solemnly in a deep and serious voice. "My master bids you welcome, young ones. If you would follow me, I will escort—" the peryton paused for the briefest of moments before continuing "—Hairpin Turn to her suite."

Chip stepped forwards and cleared his throat, inclining his head in a nod as the stag turned to regard him stoically. "If you have supplies which we may barter for," Chip stated hesitantly, "we have a long journey ahead of us, but I'm not sure what we can pay with..." At that, Ivan, who had been dragging somewhat behind, carrying his heavy load, fluttered forwards and held out a segmented limb. When the peryton merely glanced haughtily at the offered digits for a moment, the bug shrugged whatever served for his shoulders and soldiered on regardless.

"Ivancha D'Jaboozarf, tradesbug extraordinaire, is at your service, me old muckers. I've recently come into some gold, which I don't have much of a muchness for, but I believe some of you'se guys might want. Besides—" Ivan fluttered in front of Chip "—as my employer here was saying, since I'm on retainer as groom for Mistress Turn, my place is here by her side. I'm sure you've got room for her personal attendant, or you can make a little room, and we all go home happy. What say you?"

Lucretius snorted derisively as he listened to silent instructions. "The whims of my master are capricious at the best of times. Your bargain is acceptable. Walk this way."

"I would if I had the hips for it," muttered Bethany.

"Just takes a little practice," whispered Hairpin, swishing her tail as she trotted out into sunshine. Carmine caught Chip swallowing heavily and punched him in the withers before stalking after the pegasus. Chip followed soon after, wearing a 'what did I do?' expression.

The grounds were spectacular, an ocean of green and an oasis of fulgent extravagance spread out before them. It made Chip weak at the knees to realize that this section of the emperor's domain simply wasn't accessible unless the emperor allowed it, that no matter how one crept through the twisty, turning passageways of the city, you would never so much as catch a glimpse of this private retreat. There were two large, oval racetracks on either side of the wing of the palace they had emerged from, with a variety of creatures speeding around it; there were ponies, stags and hounds, not to mention a few camels, along with pegasi, perytons, lithe drakes and even dumb but curious wyverns. Some were practicing their starts, with the occasional ringing bell sounding out across the commons. Others were loping with long, easy strides as their trainers variably urged them on or cursed their laziness – whatever worked the best for inspiring their charges. In the middle of the ovals were prepared fields for battle, or gymnastic expression. Powerful grunts and the harsh clang of metal on metal could be heard as pig-like creatures and minotaur faced off against each other in decidedly serious 'friendly' bouts.

"My master is a patron of the physical arts as much as an adept of the arcane. You see before you centuries of cultivation, of fostering the very best this and any other realm has to offer. To step upon this hallowed ground is to pay homage to a vision that few have the faculties to fully comprehend."

At a brief commotion, Lucretius stopped. Carmine, who had been stalking relatively close, turned at his gaze, where a rough semi-circle of spectators were watching two bovines upending kegs over their wide-open muzzles and attempting to down the contents, to the chant of "CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"

Lucretius sighed, heavily, wings drooping as he shrugged with his withers. "As I was saying, few have the faculties to fully comprehend the honour of their position, AND LIKELY NEVER WILL." He stomped a hoof, which set the ground rumbling. There was a loud cheer as one of the two fell over.

"That went better," the bovine hiccuped as he mumbled, "in rehearsal."

"Boss," chirped Ivan, "don't you worry, I'm used to that sort of bullsh—"

Chip galloped forwards and shoved the bug out of the way. "What he means is, that we are duly impressed with your fantastic facilities here, and Hairpin Turn will do her level best to make both myself and your master proud."

Lucretius sniffed haughtily, pulling himself upright and fluffing his pale blue wings as he stuck his nose in the air. "I am glad that somebody appreciates the honour and glory of this estate."

The stag continued to lead the way through the grounds, pointing out such notables as the lushly-appointed spa and health centre, therapeutic hot springs, saunas and wading pools – the group cooing appreciatively and enviously at the luxury being offered to Hairpin. Chip in particular caught a definite 'you had better get me tickets' glare from Carmine.

Finally, he pulled up between two rows of villas, each with a quaint carved bas-relief nametag hanging from a streetlamp and a number on a free-standing postbox.

"Here we are. This will be your street. Choose any unoccupied dwelling – those without fireflies in the lamps are available. Post is collected and delivered twice daily by messenger-wyverns, though you may call for a drake if you have a larger package. Every house has on-suite facilities for daily ablutions, but there is a communal bath-house just over the way. The same is true for food storage and preparation." Lucretius paused for a moment, listening to his master's internal voice, before continuing, his ear flicking reflexively. "I am informed you are to have a stipend, which you can collect at the post-office. Just follow the signs. Any expenditures beyond this are available on credit, which will be further handled by your owner."

Chip stumbled, and quickly turned wide, pleading eyes to Hairpin, who chuckled mercilessly.

"Don't worry, Master, I won't fritter away your hoard," she said, giggling, as she turned and thoughtfully looked at an available apartment, her hooves clip-clopping on the marble flagstones as she shuffled them in mild agitation. Sighing, she turned back to Chip. "If you're sure you don't want me with you?"

"I want you with me so very much, 'Pin," replied Chip soberly, ears out flat. "We all do," he added, to a chorus of agreement as they all crowded around Hairpin, "but none of us want to risk your foal, right?"

Penny nickered. "I'd never forgive Chip if he let you get hurt," she said, glaring daggers at the boy for what had already occurred. "I've been worried ever since we left Tacksworn."

"That's kinda why we needed the airship," agreed Chip. "I said I'd not have you dragging us all over Equestria. Now you don't need to," he affirmed, poking one forehoof in Hairpin's direction.

"I can work the teleport now," said Bella, spontaneously hugging the older pegasus before drawing back and looking into her eyes, reassuringly, "and I know Penny can handle navigation."

"And after last time," squawked Carmine, swatting Chip, "I think I can handle engineering."

"Ruff and Beth, we handle communications good!" said Ruff proudly. Beth raised an eye-ridge then grinned, fist-bumping the pup-troll with a foreclaw.

"And I've got the engines," finished Chip.

"So, you don't need me at all," stated Hairpin with a grin, tears staining her muzzle. Chip shook his head, fiercely, then leaped forwards to hug her, one foreleg raised awkwardly across her withers, behind her mane, his hoof drooping down to her shoulders. Seizing the moment, he spread his wings and wrapped them around the pegasus, Bevelmiter tubes whirring and sparking, as he screwed his eyes shut against tears and lifted his other hoof to hug even harder. Unbalanced, he fell back awkwardly, landing on his haunches, wincing at the sudden pain in his tail.

"Don't ever say that. Ever," he said, looking up into her eyes. "I need you, 'Pin. You keep me honest. I never realized what you meant to me, until I realized what I might lose if you... if you lost... if you got hurt, like... my parents. I know I own you," he added, in a hurry, blurting out the words to carry the conversation on from where he had finally let it go, "and I don't really understand what that means – I know I don't – but you own me, just as much. You're my friend, and I would do anything for you. So I'm doing this for you."

"And I will do this for you too," said Hairpin, and she kissed Chip on the forehead. Then she turned to Lucretius. "They need supplies: food, water, maybe some weapons, and a wagon to carry it in until they're at the airship. What can you give them?"

"Food and water are no issue," said Lucretius slowly. His eyes narrowed, thoughtfully. "But weapons? That shouldn't be too difficult, though you may have to make do with training equipment, and they may need spot repairs. I suppose you require armour as well?"

Chip nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you've got will help. I've got some of my training spikes, and the girls have their wing blades and hunting talons, but that's about it."

"Most of our guards are bigger than you or your advisor," Lucrectius cocked his head at Ruff thoughtfully, "but... we have trainees that are your size. Your har— I mean entourage are more appropriately sized—" Lucretius carried on obliviously as Chip choked at several sets of eyes glaring at him balefully "—but we should be able to find something for everybody." The peryton stamped one cloven forehoof officiously and straightened. Moments later, a young drake swooped down and presented himself, scroll and quill in claw. Lucretius trotted towards the creature. "Ah, Scorch. Take a letter for me please, and see it is delivered at once..."

♠♣♥♦

In short order, a loaner wagon was located and Penny was hitched up to it. It was made of wood so ancient that it had turned grey where it wasn't covered with the faded, flaky, peeling remains of what had once been paint. It stood on two unsprung solid round wheels made of the same dry, grey kindling-fodder material, rimmed with what had once been iron, but was now little more than a rust-coloured highlight. It had been pronounced just about roadworthy, but no bets were being taken. Nevertheless, it stood stocked full of supplies in the middle of the quaint little square down the road from Hairpin's new villa, near the communal well. It was little more than four sides, two wheels, some cargo netting and the harness, but it would have to suffice.

The two griffons flanked her, one on each side, bedecked in an array of leather and steel armour that left their claws free to rend and tear, yet protected their flanks and vulnerable underbellies. Chip took point, weighed down by barding on his withers and flanks, a replacement horned helmet upon his head. Ruff was straddling his neck, perched just fore of Chip's wings, holding onto his mane. The troll brandished a mace in one paw, with his staff held awkwardly in the other, situated almost horizontally in front of him across Chip's back as he fought to keep his grip on both it and upon his mount.

Carmine and Bethany shared a look, before the former spread her wings. "You wanna tell us what the deal with all this armour and weaponry is? I mean, I know we're facing trouble, but what makes you think we'll find it?" asked Carmine, scowling. There were mutters of agreement. Even Bella and Hairpin looked up from where they were stowing the last of the gear at the back of the wagon, nodding.

Chip put on a serious expression. "When I was... with the emperor—"

"You were only gone a few moments!" snorted Bethany, poking Chip in the croup.

"Believe me, it was longer for me," retorted Chip, which immediately caused confusion and questions. Stomping a hoof and swishing his tail, the bolas fastened to it clashed against his armour. The din rose above their cries of astonishment, silencing them. When he had their full attention, he continued. "I'll explain more later, but for now know this: when I was with the emperor, he showed me things. Akhekhu knows we're here, and she's sending what forces she can against us. If we cannot defend ourselves, we are not worthy, in draconic terms, of succour." Chip's gaze went from each member of his group to another, making sure they understood the import of his words. "I don't know what she'll send against us, but I can guess," he continued.

"Diamond dogs, maybe," suggested Bella as she wriggled inside her chainmail. A simple gleaming circlet of metal was fastened to the base of her horn. It swept back up and around her head, keeping her mane out of her eyes.

Chip tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. "Maybe. Anyway, they may not be in time to stop us, but once we leave the sanctuary of the emperor's palace grounds, we're on our own either way. Our enemies will be discreet where there are others nearby, because damage to draconic property will be expensive, but that doesn't mean they'll be kind, and outside of the city limits – or in the air – they will be remorseless. They will not hesitate to hurt you, even kill you, so pay them back in kind. Surrender if they offer it and you have no other choice, but keep your guard up. The airship is safe, but only so long as it is docked. When we're in the air, we need to leave as soon as possible. I'm pretty sure they won't be able to follow us when we teleport, but if the worst comes to the worst..." Chip stopped, ears flicking completely back against his skull as he ducked his head in worry. As he caught Carmine's grim, determined expression, he raised his head hopefully, ears flicking forwards The griffoness slammed one foreclaw into the other as she reared back on her hind paws for a moment, wings spread.

"If the worst happens, then Penny fires that Wing Motion Cannon again, and me and Beth tear up what's left," stated Carmine, flexing her claws menacingly as she slammed them and her body down against the flagstones. Beth nodded in affirmation, clicking her beak savagely.

Slowly, Chip nodded, as the group formed a rough circle around Penny. He exchanged glances from each of them, noting Bella's thoughtful expression, the bloodlust flitting across Carmine and Beth's faces, the fear in Penny's eyes and the comforting wing of Hairpin. Ruff was taking practice swings with his mace, but it wasn't mere play-acting; the pup was serious. They all were. "You understand," Chip stated, taking a deep breath and letting it out. This was likely to be the last moment of peace they would have until, hopefully, Bella could teleport The Great Harmony to wherever the next part of the staff was. The thought was sobering.

"Then if we're all ready," began Chip, his tone serious, "it's time to get moving. Lucretius said that leaving this place is pretty simple; it'll be just like falling off the Way back over into Ponyville."

"Yeah," Bethany raised her head, ear-tufts twitching as her neck-feathers fluffed up, "I can find the ship."

"Then you and Car, you go with Penny and Bella. Ruff and I will run. The headpiece will be safe in my saddlebags."

"I hope so," muttered Penny darkly. "I don't want that disgusting thing near me if I can help it." The pegasus shivered.

"You sure about this? I mean, I can run too..." pleaded Bella, eyeing the carriage suspiciously.

Chip shook his head. "No, Bella, you need to go with Penny. Ruff and I will be fine on the ground. If you give us a bit of a boost, we'll be the fastest thing on four legs. Besides," Chip rolled his shoulders as his wings unfurled behind Ruff, "if I need them, I have these, and you don't. They're more than a bit unusual though, even for this place, so as long as I'm making good time, I'll stick to the streets. First sign of trouble and I'll take to the skies. That'll be your cue to come rescue me, okay Car?"

The griffoness flexed her armoured claws. "Just point me at what needs skewering, and let me do the rest."

Bethany scraped one wingblade against another, sending a shower of sparks leaping before her. "I've been aching to use these. Just give me a reason."

Chip chuckled. "It sure makes my saddlebags lighter now that you're wearing them, but just... try to stay out of trouble."

"Then, for maximum speed... Bella, if you'd do the honours and make us all weightless?" Chip took a few tentative steps back to give the unicorn room. Bella pursed her lips and her lavender horn lit up in an equally soft lavender glow as she cast a weight-reduction spell on the entire party. As the nimbus of light burst, she was panting, green mane flopping over her eyes.

"There," she huffed, "that will last for a while." She then staggered over to the wagon and collapsed into the back. Raising her head, she called out plaintively, "Somepony tie me down. I'm too pooped to hold on, and I really don't like heights when there's no seatbelts. If I've got to ride in this death-trap, I don't want to fall out."

Ruff sighed. Being the only one of the band with both paws and a stint in the Foal Scouts, he was the best at knots. Leaping off Chip's back, he remembered too late that Bella had only just cast her spell. He flailed both arms and legs about as he tumbled head over tails through the air. Beth's raucous laughter echoed down the villa-lined avenue as, with a practiced hop, she leaped into the air and snagged the pup, turning a neat summersault.

"As much as I'd like to play my new favourite game, piñata-dog," said Bethany with a cawing laugh as she dangled Ruff from his ankle, swaying him gently side to side like a flag, "Bella's spell won't last forever. I suggest we make our move." The black and brown griffon turned to Hairpin. "I don't get what Chip's got on you, but you gotta follow your heart. And I gotta follow mine. He's right to tell you to stay here. Stay safe, hunting is for predators, like us griffons. This'll all be over soon, and we'll come get you when Akhekhu's been dealt with."

Wriggling free of Beth's claws, Ruff took tentative, careful bounds over to the elder pegasus and embraced Hairpin before leaping once more to land on the heap of goods held under the netting in the back of the wagon.

"Ruff miss you too. Ruff want you to stay safe!" he called out, as he searched for some means to hold Bella fast without smothering her. In the end, he settled for a tarpaulin-like piece of cloth and set that up as a part-sling, part huge belt. Satisfied, he shared a nod with the unicorn before leaping once more to Chip's back, the impact sending the youngster bouncing several feet. Penny, who was strapped into the wagon's harness at the front, contented herself with turning her head and nodding, solemnly, to the other pegasus.

"Fair winds and sunny skies, sister," she said.

"Fair winds," replied Hairpin, eyes glistening wetly as she fought back tears.

"Enough with the mushy-mush, let's book!" shouted Carmine, and in a flash of pink, white and brown, she took to the skies, circling tightly. A second flash of gold, brown and black later, and with a great swooping down-beat of wings that lifted the remaining spectators into the air a few feet, Bethany joined her.

"See you back at the airship, Chip!" yelled Penny as she broke directly from standing into a gallop, spreading her wings wide and soaring effortlessly into the heavens. The trio of flyers, with their rickety wagon and semi-unwilling unicorn passenger in tow, circled the small square a few times before getting their bearings and heading off and out, towards the distant city.

"Not if I see you first!" bellowed Chip after her. He turned, once, to Hairpin, who waved him off with a hoof, before he looked back at Ruff. "You good?"

"Ruff good," the pup answered, steely determination written all over his narrowed eyes and teeth bared in a manic grin.

There was a short sigh from the sidelines. "I have a feeling I'm going to regret this, chum, but if you wanna get back to the ship in the least amount of time, with the least amount of trouble, and judging you just said you know there'll be some... you'll need a guide. And there really ain't no guide better than me."

Chewing his lip for a moment, Chip nodded hesitantly. "I can't guarantee your safety, and I don't think you wanna come with us where we're going."

"Na, mate, just to the ship," replied the bug, flapping over to Chip and Ruff, where he grabbed resolutely on to Chip's tail, like the ballast of a kite.

"All set too?" asked Chip, one last time.

"You betcha," replied Ivan.

"Then it's go time. Hold on tight." Flapping his wings experimentally, Chip fought to remain at ground level as he took a few tentative steps. Grinning wildly, he reared back and sucked in a huge gutful of air. Reaching mentally inside, he sought the glowing ember within and stoked it until it flared up into a raging inferno. As his forehooves kicked emphatically before him, he let forth a huge torrent of fire and roared his challenge at whomever may dare oppose him, the eardrum-shattering echoes reverberating across the complex until long after the dragon himself had left.

♠♣♥♦

Queen Emerald pushed backwards, fanged teeth bared and eyes half-lidded. Prince Whistler pushed decidedly forwards, his own fanged maw hanging open in undisguised lust, his forked tongue lolling to one side. Feeling the fire within him building, he leaned forwards and fastened his teeth resolutely onto Emerald's ear, growling throatily as he bit. His forelegs, draped over her barrel, kicked spasmodically, rubbing sensuously and needily against the holes in her legs. The flarings of their passion were flooding through the hive with wanton abandon – today it would not be merely hunger that was satiated. Even the air-pumps were sounding out a rhythm which could be called 'intimate'.

It was with only the barest flickering of annoyance that Emerald allowed Akhekhu's communication spell to connect. As the two-way scrying became clear to both parties, the large blue dragon hissed, and her eyes widened appreciatively. Almost reflexively, Emerald sent a tendril of raw emotion out towards the creature. Akhekhu purred helplessly, the feedback from the unexpected shared link enjoyable to both of them.

"I am sorry to... disturb you," said Akhekhu. She wasn't, particularly, though the fire in her loins was uncomfortable, if pleasurable.

"No you're not, not now at least." Emerald smirked as her lover, spent, dismounted. She flicked her tail thoughtfully as she stretched languidly. Lovemaking, she recalled, was a private affair for many species, something to be enjoyed with only a few very close friends. At least, that's what she had gathered from contact with converts for her hive. For changelings, privacy was something almost entirely foreign. As she stalked out from her personal quarters, Emerald idly wondered whether Akhekhu had properly understood the honour of being included in the Hive during a mating. Either way, the result had been enjoyable. The tang of the dragon's physiological reaction had been... Emerald licked her lips. Tasty was the only word for it.

"To what do I owe the honour of your company, Lady Akhekhu?" Emerald could guess – linked as she was to the dragon's state of being, thoughts and emotions flowed continuously. The dragoness could hide specifics, but not intent.

"I have a job for your people, Emerald," said Akhekhu. Emerald pursed her lips in a moue of displeasure. Now that she worked with the dragon – not for, never for – the great blue beast never used her proper title.

"Our mutual distraction has been located, I take it?" Emerald paused for a moment, one foreleg lifted. She ran it through her flamelike mane and tossed her head; the after-tremors of her time with Whistler were still fresh in her mind, but she couldn't deny a certain fascination with the target of Akhekhu's ire. The brief mental taste of the strange dragon-like pony, gathered through her minions, had been intriguing. She briefly entertained the idea of dominating the draconic stallion and having him for herself. In time, perhaps, this would come to pass. Sniffing, she strode onwards. "My hive has grown strong under your patronage, Lady Akhekhu. With your supply of new blood, the ranks of my drones have swelled most appreciatively, and with the excess from your diamond dog pets, I am having great success at moulding a new under-caste to serve my empire."

"Moulding them?" Akhekhu's interest was piqued. She leaned forwards until only one great eye was visible in the ball of eldritch mage-fire. "Do tell. I am intrigued."

Striding confidently into a small birthing chamber that lay just a short ways from her quarters, Queen Emerald allowed an indulgent smile to flow across her lips at the sight of her newest brood. "My hive is one of order, my lady. Drones for each purpose are hatched and trained according to need. Your diamond dogs, though... they do not breed with my former ponies – even after being taken in by the hive itself – and have a differing temperament. So I have decided to breed them for a new purpose – guards, troops perhaps. We shall see... they are fast, strong, and very, very loyal." Emerald cood at an egg, gently stroking it with a hoof. The faint thump-thump, thump-thump of multiple heartbeats could be felt as much as heard. They had grown, under her tender ministrations. They had been shaped and forged anew.

"I had to neuter the first batch," said Emerald with a sigh. "A pity, but they were no longer breeding stock material, and their urges were altogether uncontrollable. They still retain their ferocious nature to all intruders, but are now much more amenable to their new station under my command."

"Instead of on top?" suggested Akhekhu with a quiet snigger.

Emerald snorted. "Precisely. It is, however, but a small matter of hormones and some biological restructuring. This new batch," said Emerald, smiling indulgently as she stroked her hoof tenderly across the knotty, twisted surface of the nearest giant, egg-shaped sack, "and all their future siblings, will be quite, quite loyal when they are ready, and entirely uninterested outside of their own caste."

"And..." Akhekhu leaned back until the entirety of her head, especially her teeth, was visible. "When will this new batch be ready?"

A massive, hulking claw wreathed in glowing green ichor slammed through the mottled, purple-hued eggshell, scattering plate-sized pieces across the dimly-lit room. The claw opened and retracted, then took a firm hold of the rim of the hole and pulled.

"I believe you already have your answer, Lady Akhekhu."

The dragoness smiled wide, well pleased. "Then, as I said before, I believe I have a job for you..."

♠♣♥♦

Author's Note

I was almost naughty again this time by releasing before ready, but maskedferret persuaded me not to. Or was it Caliaponia? Anyway, these two have hammered this chapter into shape, along with Jake the Army Guy, Nyerguds and AntiquatedAnnomaly. And once again, q97randomguy deserves an oscar (or whatever the "I had to deal with a grouchy author who doesn't know how to use punctuation properly" award is) for fixing the technical aspects. I had to buy a whole new set of hats to take them off to you. I may include pictures... so I hope you enjoy!

Also, I don't think anybody noticed, but last chapter was possibly the first chapter in the entire book where I did not switch viewpoints away from our heroes throughout the entire thing. But don't quote me on that. It's at least the first chapter in a long time!

A Roc and a Hard Place - Part 1

♠♣♥♦ King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
════════════════════

Chapter 24
A Roc and a Hard Place
Part 1
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

♠♣♥♦

When last we met our intrepid heroes, not only had they absconded with the pride of the Equestrian sky-navy fleet to the draconic capital city of Leviathania for an audience with the emperor, but they had learned from him that their enemy, Akhekhu of the Sapphire Reaches, was far from ignorant of their travails, and was at that very moment endeavouring to end their flight.

With the pregnant Hairpin Turn safe from harm in the Emperor's stables, the rest of the gang – Chip, Carmine, Bella, Bethany, Penny and Ruff, along with the native guide Ivan – are making their way as swiftly as possible to the Great Harmony – their stolen warship – and to safety.

♠♣♥♦

Chip's legs pumped like well-oiled pistons, propelling his armoured frame across the emerald veldt of Quetzalcoatl's training grounds. His wings were half-spread, their arcane engines whirring brightly from atop his shoulders, sparks flying from them like cinders fleeing a bonfire. The motion was effortless, his gallop devouring furlong after furlong.

Enormous as the emperor's palace grounds were, the transition from compound to city streets was swift and seamless. Seemingly within moments, the open training arenas had given way to administrative and recreational buildings, and the pony-shaped dragon and his reluctant passengers found themselves travelling at speed through the athletes' village. Passing through, there had been no whirling, nausea-inducing jump, nor any gut-wrenching twist as they had exited the grounds proper; there had been just the slow, stately advance of the diminutive boundary wall, a leap across the almost non-existent barrier, and then the mad dash into swiftly thickening crowds and narrowing streets.

Moments later, Ruff raised his head cautiously from its precarious position half-buried in the thick of Chip's mane. He sniffed, head held steady as Chip's body moved fluidly beneath him. "Trouble," he said, simply.

"You what, mate?" cried Ivan from somewhere behind, two segmented limbs holding onto Chip's tail for dear life whilst a third held onto his hat. The remaining three, like his antennae, fluttered in the considerable breeze.

Chip's ears flicked to and fro, and his nostrils flared. He could hear and smell the source of the trouble, and with growing agitation realised they were travelling towards it as much as away. He widened his wings a little, causing his hooves to slam into the ground with the extra downforce. His legs pumped faster as his body swept low along the dusty streets. He hunched down, lungs puffing like bellows until jets of flame were playing around his muzzle with every breath.

Ruff was surprised there were few screams and even fewer occurrences of upturned produce stalls; he guessed it was because, well, dragons. The big ones don't tend to look where they're going, they kind of expect the world to bend itself around their wishes. They're mostly right, and even the smaller ones tend to get their own way. As a result, most sellers tended to build towards the sides of the wide roads, and made sure that anything fragile was tucked securely away – and a good number of sellers' carts were, maybe unsurprisingly, on wheels.

Chip leaped into the air, heading straight for the buildings at the end of the street. Rolling sideways, he tilted his wings to bring his backside around, and his hooves struck the front face of a hotel of some kind. Not breaking stride, the four-hooved draconic powerhouse went from canter to gallop as he sped off along the sheer vertical wall down the side street. A tunnel provided opportunity to return to running on the ground, via the ceiling and opposite wall.

"Still with me?" huffed Chip, not turning his head. The flames should have singed his mane, but then he shouldn't have been breathing fire in any case, not if he were the pony he appeared to be.

"Ruff need new shorts," said Ruff, ears pinned back against his skull, "but Ruff still here."

"Ey, kid, didja really hafta? Nearly lost me hat!" complained Ivan.

"Eeyup," answered Chip as he careened off a handy spire, the impact sending a flock of wyverns flying skywards, filling with air their cries of raucous annoyance. "Turning."

"Say before! Say before!" howled Ruff, digging his claws in to Chip's armour so hard he was threatening to shred it.

"Sorry. Duck."

Ruff ducked just in time, and Ivan pulled as many extremities in as he could, as Chip re-angled his wings, took all four hooves off the ground and sailed under a low bridge built across some sort of aqueduct. Oily flame lit the sudden twilight as Chip weaved to and fro, and then suddenly, they were out into scorching daylight again.

"So, me ol' china," called Ivan above the whistling wind. "You were sayin' summat about trouble?"

"We're being followed," replied Chip noncommittally, nodding.

Ruff nodded, though the action was all but lost on both Ivan and Chip. "They have us surrounded. Don't know how many, but they close. Been coming for a while. Ruff caught their scent a ways back."

"You sure?" asked Ivan.

"Ruff sure," replied Ruff. "Same scent as Tacksworn, but... different."

"Tacks-a-where?" wondered Ivan, aloud. Then the bug fluttered his wings. "Don't matter none. Listen, turn left up ahead."

"But that's the wrong way," hissed Chip, turning his head slightly and fixing the insect with a beady glare. "We're heading for the docking spire, remember?"

Ivan ducked out the way of the flames then fluttered his wings again to bring his body back into position. "Listen, bub, who's the guide here? Ivancha D'Jaboozarf? Or some schmo from Ticklesbarn or what-have-ya?"

"Tacksworn," grumbled Chip, flaring a wing and turning sharply. "But point taken."

"Good. Now, you'se wanna get out of this? You listen to old Ivan. I ain't never lost a client yet and I ain't about to now. Make another left, then a right, and then..."

♠♣♥♦

Smothered in the late afternoon sunset, soaking up the ambience of the dusty citadel, a very tall and thin earth pony lay on his stomach on a lounger on the roof of a nondescript hotel, suffering the worn-thin opulence of an establishment that had seen better days, in bad grace. The brochure had promised four stars, whilst the reality was two stars with pretentions, and there weren't nearly enough complimentary chocolates to fill the gap. His normally brilliant white coat was currently a dull beige from the dust, and his usually expertly coiffed blonde mane was limp from the sweltering heat.

"Oh, Bentgrass, you really did mess up this time," he mumbled to himself. Scowling, he took a sip from a cool, tall glass of something multicoloured that he held resolutely hooked in one hoof. It came complete with sparkler and little paper umbrella. In the other hoof was a telescope; said wood and brass contraption was firmly planted to one steel-grey eye, the hock-band cinched tight. The other eye, bright yellow with a vertical slit, was half-lidded from the sun's glare.

"I should be in Trottingham, dealing with a shipment of Griffonian arms and a very nasty Zebrican ambassador, but no," he muttered, sneering, "instead I'm in Leviathania, perched on a rooftop, baking my hide. And all because I call one noblepony a stuck-up foppish bore with a penchant for filly's underwear." He paused to take another absent-minded sip from his cocktail, disapproval exuding from every pore as he studied the frosted glass. "Apparently having proof made it worse." He shuddered at the taste, regarding the overly fruity insult to cultured alcoholic beverages everywhere with contempt. "Ugh, I'd consider equicide for a Colthelia Port," he moaned, taking yet another sip. "Or at least something with enough breeding to avoid these little umbrellas." He picked out the offending pink monstrosity with furious lips and spat it over the edge of the building. To his surprise, the wind whipped it back up over the parapet again. At the same time, the building shook as if from multiple impacts. He counted four of them.

"Sweet Luna's teats!" he exclaimed, flinging the drink to one side as he leaped out of the lounger-pad. The liquid inside swung in an arc out across the low ridge that surrounded the hotel's sun-deck, and the glass itself impacted with said deck, shattering into a million glittering shards that would have seriously injured anypony foalish enough to be standing near them.

Bentgrass, however, was already on the move, racing in the direction of whatever in the name of Luna's bountiful blue buttocks had nearly knocked down his hotel. Collapsing his spy-glass with one hoof and neatly flipping it into his waistcoat jacket in a single, smooth, well-practiced motion, he came to a short, sharp stop at the parapets of the hotel. Peering over the edge of the building, he saw nothing but the tail-end of something fast disappearing into the darkness, sparks billowing behind it from an inconveniently-placed tunnel. "Celestia's scorched cr—" he paused, ducking his head and scanning the skies. He never knew when they might be listening, and had more than likely used up whatever freebies his position granted.

A lesser pony would have taken the stairs. A more well-prepared one might have rappelled down to street level. Bentgrass, hopped up on what was strictly speaking more than the regulation amount of intoxicating liquor, took a different route. He hoofed it to the edge of the building, took a single, slow look across the city, backed up a few steps, and then leaped into space.

Twang!

The sound of his metal-shod hooves as they came into contact with a washing line reverberated loud enough to rise above the frantic din in the streets below. Doing what could charitably be called the best, greatest, guitar-slide in history, his forward momentum carried him down the precarious shortcut far enough for him to blink exactly once, gather his body and leap for the adjacent roof. He tucked into a roll, impacted far more lightly than seemed equinely possible and then tumbled to his hooves. Racing to the edge of the adjacent building, he was just in time to catch a momentary glimpse of the whatever-it-was vanishing again under another low bridge.

Bentgrass ground his teeth. If he'd had a hat, he would've thrown it on the ground in disgust and jumped on it. Steeling himself at the edge for another run-and-jump, Bentgrass instead found himself stopping and stepping back.

A city has a certain voice all of its own. A million inhabitants, all working in tandem to breathe life into a megastructure built of wood, stone and slate. Bentgrass had learned to listen to the voice of the city; from the smallest hamlet to the largest metropolis, they all spoke to him. And right now, this one was grumbling with something approaching righteous indignation.

A sudden series of scuffles and loud complaints floated past him, along with the unmistakable thundering of paws. Shrieks and insults resounded from the stone-wrought walls of the buildings lining the market avenues below... There was indignation but not fear. This city held too many dragons for fear but never too many to banish threats of bodily retaliation for something else stomping willy-nilly through the neighbourhood.

Bentgrass ran to the other side of the building in time to see something – no, some things – rocket past, foam flecking from their maws as they steamed through the milling crowds. They were big, their eyes glowed blue, their fangs gleamed yellowish-white and their bodies exuded silent, deadly rage. And nothing even remotely resembling sentience.

"Diamond...!? No, no, those aren't diamond dogs. Not any more at least," Bentgrass murmured. He ducked down instinctively as a trio of black, chitinous creatures buzzed past, following the mutated monsters. There was a brief, colourful flash, and the black creatures were gone, replaced by what appeared to be wyverns.

After they had passed, the agent sighed, shaking his head. "Why oh why couldn't it have stayed at cheap drinks and disappointment?" Huffing angrily, he reached deep inside his jacket with a foreleg and flipped out a green gem. It was almost the size of his hoof and emblazoned with a plethora of runic symbols. Carefully, he set the gem on the ground and tapped it three times. The emerald flashed a brilliant green and shot a thin beam of light up to eye level. The beam widened to form a roughly head-sized, circular field of static. The gem hissed white noise for a few moments whilst the cantrips properly engaged.

Finally, the floating screen turned black, and a voice asked, “Authorization?”

“Charlie, Three, Four, Seven, India, November,” Bentgrass answered quietly.

There was a moment of silence before the voice spoke again. “Confirmed. What can we do for you, Agent Bentgrass?”

“I have a Priority One situation in progress, and I don't have time to argue about it. Get me the Director,” Bentgrass stated coolly.

“Priority One? That’s only in cases of imminent public danger!" the voice on the other end of the scrying spell scoffed.

Bentgrass blinked. “Is it?" Feigning surprise, the agent put a hoof to his cheek. "I know they put that in the manual, but I totally thought they were kidding about that. How about we forget the emergency, then; I'm interested in hearing about the weather back home and the latest hoofball scores. Could you get them for me instead?" There was an uncomfortable silence, finally broken by Bentgrass, sighing as he raised one hoof to his temples and massaged gently. "Get me somebody useful, and I'll sing like a canary. Or maybe you'd like to continue to delay this Priority One incident? I'm sure I can ask nicely for the troublemakers my end to stop and wait whilst the R.I.S spin on their Celestia-damned haunches!"

Bentgrass glared into the abyss of inky blackness and stomped his hoof back down against the roofing slabs. Through the link came the sudden sound of scuffling and hoofsteps as the pony he was conversing with got the message. Moments later, the black disk shimmered and shook before being replaced with the picture of a severe-looking older pinto stallion. His brown-and-white speckled hide was faded, yet still showed signs of gloss, and his hazel-peppered tail flicked about in equal measures of amusement and irritation.

"Director Top Notch, sir," said Bentgrass, standing just the teensiest bit straighter.

"Bentgrass?" The ghostly image of the stallion leaned closer, eyes narrowing. "I hope this isn't a courtesy call. You were informed that you were only to—"

Bentgrass nodded. "Your 'possible situation' has just turned hot, sir."

Top Notch's hard green eyes narrowed, and the levity fell out of his voice. "Sitrep?"

"I don't know where you're getting your info from, but it's not dragons. We're in Leviathania, but it's not dragons."

"No?" One eyebrow was raised as if challenging the statement.

"Worse. It's changelings—" Agent Bentgrass paused only briefly, continuing over Top Notch's sharp intake of breath "— and some sort of troll. They look like diamond dogs, but..." Bentgrass shook his head, blowing air out through his teeth. "Well, whatever they are, they also kind of feel like changelings."

"Changeling trolls? Are you sure?" Top Notch slammed a hoof down on his desk as he propelled himself forwards, moving close enough that the spell spat and fizzled as it compensated for the disruption. Bentgrass gulped as the director's visage was replaced with just his eyes, and they were anything but amused.

"I'm not sure of anything, sir, except that whatever they are, they're working together. They're chasing something, something fast. Orders, sir?"

Top Notch leaned back, his muzzle once more in view. He chewed his bottom lip for a few moments before continuing. "I'll see what I can do for backup, but until then, sit pretty. This is dragon territory; we've got to be discrete. We lose too many good agents when dragons are involved, if we're not careful."

"If our intel is correct, this doesn't even concern the dragons!" Bentgrass protested, stomping a hoof and flicking his tail angrily. "Most know better than to tangle with an agent, anyhow!"

"Benny, just remember: officially, we don't have any agents in Leviathania, and that's more than good enough to pronounce open season on your hide if they find out you're active." Top Notch leaned in as close as he could to the ethereal screen and affixed Bentgrass with a severe gaze. "If you want to avoid becoming a double agent, stay clear of whatever it is you're tangling with. Fall foul of the wrong dragon whilst you're out there, and you'll be flipped before you know it. They get inside your head, Benny, and there's no way to get them out. The Pax is quite clear on that." Top Notch shook a hoof at the recalcitrant agent.

"I promise I'll not get caught," replied Bentgrass, swiping a hoof back and forth across his chest in a rough 'X'.

"You'll stay out of trouble, you mean?" Top Notch glared.

"Isn't that what I said?" Bentgrass grinned and flicked off the scrying crystal before his superior could answer. The tall, thin stallion scooped up the gem and secreted it away then turned in the direction of most interest. His coat was dusty, his mane was dull, but his eyes were bright and his expression unbowed. "Time to get to work."

In a single smooth move, he dived over the edge, bounced off an awning and took off into the streets.

♠♣♥♦

The thestrals Cerasus and Myristica – otherwise known as Cherry and Nutmeg – wheeled through the sky on widespread bat-like wings. Their armour didn't glisten in the sunlight; it dripped. Their yellow, slitted eyes were focused on the city streets far below, augmented vision picking out even the smallest of details as they floated overhead. Like most of their kind, at least whilst on duty, they shared a common colour scheme; each was festooned in purples, blacks and dark blues, but Cherry had a maroon streak in his mane, whilst Nutmeg's showed a streak of brown.

"The chase is ahoof, dear Nutmeg!" sung Cherry, pirouetting in place excitedly, his wings fluttering madly as he held himself aloft.

"But who is chasing whom? It seems we are not without a new player in our merriment, oh Nutmeg-mine." Nutmeg shivered in the cooler air, his fur standing on end. Huddling in upon himself, he buried into a nearby cloud for warmth. "Do you feel it? Another?" The thestral peered suspiciously down at the city spread beneath them.

Cherry's eyes narrowed, and he circled the cloud carefully as he too scanned the city streets. "I do, but who...? Oh!" The astonished creature stopped stock still and pointed with a wing, oblivious to such minutiae as gravity. "I see him! There! One touched by the will of Luna!" Cherry's eyes lit up as he watched a tiny, off-white earth-pony figure far below for a few moments. It leaped about in a daring display of dangerous acrobatics, dancing from rooftop to rooftop. "What should we do?"

Nutmeg sniffed as he studied the pony. "I remember him, he was one of us. He has given up his wings, so is to be pitied, but he has taken The Oath. Faith I would include him in our fun with yonder lordling." Nutmeg waved a wing at another distant speeding target.

Cherry swooped up and hung upside down in front of Nutmeg, almost muzzle to muzzle, grinning evilly. "In truth, I would include him too, should he want it or not."

"Go greet our lost kin, then, dear Cherry," called Nutmeg, "and I shall make my swift way to the griffons we were sent to accompany. Accomplished they may be upon the wing, but should they fall prey to what follows them, they will flounder and fall. Our princess would not have that, and neither would I."

"Softy," snorted Cherry, as he wheeled and dropped like a stone.

Nutmeg just stuck out a tongue at the dwindling speck as soon as the other was out of view, then jumped to his hooves and likewise spun and dived.

♠♣♥♦

Despite telling himself it wasn't true, Chip was starting to tire. His already superheated breath now flamed with every exhalation, and his coat steamed. "Where are we going?" he growled, voice husky as his nostrils flared. Their assailants were gaining, and were mere minutes behind them, if that.

"Trust me, Bub, I've got ya. Unless you think I'm in cahoots with whatever-it-is Titchy there is sniffing. No offence," the bug added quickly, waving a placating set of appendages as Ruff bared his teeth.

"I don't," Chip huffed with a single derisory snort of flame, rolling his eyes. "I'd smell it on you."

"Well then. Where we're headed is just up ahead. Slow down as we go up the alley."

"Slow down!?" yelled Chip, incredulous.

"Slow down," repeated Ivan levelly. "If you don't, I'll not be able to let my guys know what's up, capiche? So unless you'se wants that scrap in the square I'm trying to avoid, slow down." Ivan locked his gaze with Chip's baleful glare and didn't flinch. Finally Chip nodded, once. Ivan waited until Chip turned his head to look back once more, then pointed down a dingy alley. Taking Ivan's lead, Chip careened off a building on the opposite side to hurtle into its shady interior. Moments later, it opened into a wide and colourful exchange. The Bevelmiter engines on his shoulders whined and spat lightning as he flared his wings to brake. Shedding speed, Chip slowed to a canter, his hooves striking the cobbled roadway with increasing regularity and haste. Ivan clicked his mandibles together loudly then proceeded to let loose a barrage of high-speed clacks and buzzes, a cacophony which was swiftly answered in kind as plans were drawn up with a goodly group of creatures similar in build and stature to Ivan. As Chip dropped to a trot, the bug yelled to his clients in Equestrian, "Don't stop! I said slower, not stop! Hoof it, you numbnuts!"

"Where to? I'm running out of destination, Ivan!" called back Chip, casting his gaze around at the eclectic selection of mats, meats, hookahs and other collections of tchotchke..

"Dive into that building over there before they roast our chestnuts!" exclaimed Ivan, pointing to an opened warehouse door. "It's a bolt-hole. Sometimes, for a bug in my position, you find yourself… possessing merchandise which the bigwigs around here aren't too fond of, you know what I mean? And sometimes you need a place to hide it. And yourself." As he spoke, Ivan bent and plucked out a few strands of Chip's tail, then flung them to a compatriot. The two chittered, and then the other bug zoomed off. "Distraction," Ivan explained, at Chip's questioning eye-raise. "Now get in there! Hide us!"

Chip dutifully sped up and leaped, sheathing his magitech wings at the last moment as they sailed through the large, darkened rectangle. The huge double doors were slammed shut behind them, and Chip skidded to a halt in a pile of legs, wings and broken merchandise. As he slid around on his hooves, he flung the unfortunate Ivan and Ruff off his tail and back into a pile of what used to be commemorative amphoras before joining them in a catastrophic clash of perishable pottery.

"Ow! Have I ever said how much I dislike crash landings?" grumbled Chip, standing back up and straightening his armour, pottery shards raining around him.

"Quiet!" growled Ruff, under his breath as he picked himself up. "Quiet and listen!"

Chip and Ruff both did their best to stifle their breathing, putting hooves and paws over their muzzles to dampen the noise. In the quiet darkness, the three withdrew deeper behind the assorted dross and unmarked boxes that filled the otherwise undecorated room from floor to ceiling. Outside, there came the unmistakable sound of merchandise being moved around at breakneck speed, followed by the swift restoration of the din that came from an entire street full of buyers and sellers arguing with each other and one another over who had the best prices and wares.

Moments later, the hullabaloo changed as growling, intense voices charged into the exchange outside. The yelling of commerce changed to the angered, righteous indignation of those whose livelihood has just been trampled by unwanted interlopers. Swiftly after came the sounds of merchandise being thrown, and yelping, not all of it by whatever had been following the trio. The angry voices finally moved away, and the hubbub of normal commerce returned. A few nervous minutes after that and the wares blocking the doors were pulled aside.

"What'd I tell you'se guys, huh?" asked Ivan as he was suddenly bathed in sunlight, wearing a smirk so wide it threatened to envelop his entire body. "Me and my boys, we take care of our clients. Is bad for business if anyone else rips you off, eh?"

"Thanks… I think." Chip shared a grin with Ruff then trotted carefully out into the open.

"Now… we are hunters and they are prey," the diminutive diamond dog said with a grin, thumping one fist-paw into the other. He swung his legs to and fro over the edge of a box of miniature figures he was clambering on, like a pup, but his expression was far more serious.

"The emperor was right then; those things are after us. We've gotta get clear before they bring in more reinforcements."

"So, is there a new plan, boss?" asked Ivan.

Chip shook his head in the negative. "Nothing's changed. Step one, we get back to the Great Harmony and meet up with the girls. Step two, we get the us all and the airship out of here before they can board it." Chip glanced skywards, but little could be seen from the enclosed cul-de-sac. "I hope the girls are okay."

Ruff barked out with laughter. "They okay. They prolly doing better than us!"

"I hope you're right."

Dusting himself off, Ivan stretched out his wings and then straightened his hat. "Never let it be said Ivancha D'Jaboozarf doesn't look out for his clients. I've got the whole D'Jaboozarf clan on the lookout for trouble; they'll be running interference where necessary." He bowed perfunctorily as another, brightly coloured, beetle ran up to him, its antennae quivering as it chittered nervously. Ivan answered briefly in kind, shaking his head, then turned back to Chip and Ruff. "They're telling me there're hotspots all over, some sort of weird trolls being portalled in, followed by changelings. Changelings are bad news. Changelings with trolls? That's worse. No offence." Ivan spat on the ground, antennae quivering, then shrugged apologetically at Ruff.

"No skin off my paws. They not diamond dogs, not no more," replied Ruff, growling.

Ivan nodded then looked back over at Chip. "So, what do we do now, boss?"

"Ivan," replied Chip, his eyes narrowing as he calculated the odds, "we need you with us until we're at the ship if that's possible. We need to know where our 'friends' are and how many we're talking about. We'll avoid most of them, but I think it's time we got a good look at what we're dealing with." Chip shook himself off as he trotted out back into the exchange, then half-spread his wings and circled the square; ducking and weaving through the cloud of excited, colourful insects flittering around, and stepping over crates and bags piled high with exotic treasures and foods, he hunted for signs of their quarry.

The chatter in the exchange was once again reaching deafening levels, though now most of it seemed to be due to bet taking on their chances of survival. The rest was apparently advice that would have to go mostly unheeded and wildly contradictory attempts at directions. None of them, save Ivan, spoke Buggish, but it was easy to get the gist of the chatter, based on the coins changing hands and the excited gesturing and chits being waved around by the numerous insectoid inhabitants . "And I think it's also time we let Akhekhu know we're not taking this lying down."

Chip paused as he was accosted by an especially intent beetle offering something dead and barbequed on a stick to him. A glance at Ivan showed their guide miming eating it, waving an appendage to accept the gift. Chip turned back and took it in his muzzle, bowing gratefully. He'd been running hard and a pickmeup would be well appreciated.

As he finished it, Ruff leaped up onto Chip's back and punched his friend in the withers, the pup's claws bouncing off Chip's armour with a resounding clang.

"Ruff ready to show."

Chip burped, incinerating the stick with a blast of dragonfire. "Me too, bud. You sorted, Ivan?" Chip wiped his muzzle with an armoured hoof, then looked over at their beetle friend.

"When you are, matey," replied Ivan, stepping away from the bugs he had been in discussion with and grabbing a firm hold of both his hat and Chip's tail with several appendages.

Chip took one last look around the square and then fully spread his wings. The twin Bevelmiter engines started to whir, and Chip leaped into the air, their exit followed by a multitude of waves and shouts from the insect crowd behind them.

Pronking from door frame to window ledge to balcony, the re-energized dragon gained altitude moment by moment. Hurling himself over the edge of the nearest building, he was up and galloping across the whitewashed stone roofs in the blink of an eye.

Nostrils spread wide and ears splayed, he zeroed in on his quarry. They weren't difficult to find and, even more advantageously, the initial group of three outliers had split up in search of Chip and the gang.

"Ruff want have talk with troll," said the pup ominously as he spied the nearest of the three. "Will catch up."

"Wait, Ruff don—" Chip began, but the troll had already leaped off his back and hurtled over the edge of one building, down into an alleyway, where he disappeared from view.

"I got him, boss. You take care on your lonesome, 'kay?" shouted Ivan as he let go of Chip's tail. Moments later the insect, too, was winging his way after the pup.

"Horseapples!" swore Chip under his breath. "There's no time to stop. I'll just swing back and pick them up… afterwards."

Chip grinned ferally to himself and made a right turn down another street. With one long bound, he slammed into the ground, roaring a challenge to the large, glowing-eyed brute ahead of him. As Chip galloped up the street, he saw the troll was busy casting around the square that lay ahead, searching for his scent. As Chip's hoof-beats grew nearer, the creature stopped and turned, a guttural snarl rending its way past the beast's lips.

"Yeah, that's right," growled Chip, setting his hooves squarely down one after another as he came to a halt some distance from the troll. "You know who I am, and I know who you are. And who you work for. Tell your cowardly mongrel of a mistress we're not going to quit. We're going to find the treasure, and then we're coming for her. Tell her to run. Tell her to hide, because Chiphoof Irontail Leatherback of the Diamond Expanse is angry." Chip lashed his tail, the bolas tied there clanging loudly.

The beast's only reply was an infuriated roar; it beat its chest and rent at the ground with its huge paws.

"And you can tell your mistress another thing," hissed Chip quietly. He leaned forwards, fixing the beast with an unwavering gaze until he was sure he had its undivided attention. The last time he'd faced down a diamond dog in single combat, he'd been afraid, inexperienced and vulnerable. This time was different.

"You can tell your mistress: never bring claws to a fire fight."

Chip took a single deep breath, spread his wings wide, and bellowed flame across the gap. The white-hot plasma enveloped the slathering creature before it could react, and before it could finish its last, lone howl of pain and humiliation, it had turned to ash.

Chip stepped carefully over to where the troll had so recently stood. The rock beneath had been scoured clean by his fiery breath and melted to a smooth, glossy finish. It glowed a faint yet angry shade of red and pinged and ticked as it cooled. Chip hung his head in silent vigil. He hadn't exactly had any choice – he'd known what would happen the moment he set eyes on the creature, but he was still torn.

"When I get hold of Akhekhu..." Chip growled to himself, then he stopped and snorted. He shook his head as he thought through the emotions flowing in his mind. Such anger, such determination… she had cost him his parents and had ripped his world out from under him, and yet he was the one on the offensive. He wasn't sure whether he'd have been quite so bloodthirsty if he'd remained the pony he still outwardly seemed to be, but then again, he wasn't sure whether it was his loss or his change that fueled his righteous anger most.

Chip took a deep, shuddering breath then turned to leave. Ruff would need his help, and they still needed to get to th—

Chip's world suddenly spun around and around, and pain flared up in his shoulder and barrel. He whinnied in surprise and shock as something heavy pinned down. As the creature went from chewing at his metal-plated withers to chomping on his neck, Chip realised it was another changeling-troll. Daggers of fire erupted along his spine as the beast's teeth penetrated his armour. Roaring in dismay and aggravation, he repeatedly flicked the bolas on his tail at the troll and kicked his hooves in an attempt to free himself, bucking as hard as he could. The blows struck home, but against the thick pelt and thicker layer of muscle surrounding the creature, they had little effect. When that failed, he took a deep breath, twisted his head and let forth a huge gout of flame at his assailant. The creature leaped away, yelping, then dodged and snarled, lunging again. Chip took another deep breath in preparation for another blast, but before he could loose off so much as a spark, the beast's fangs had sunk into his throat and it had pulled his head up and to the side. Molten spittle poured from the wounds in a gurgling rush of lava as the roar of flame turned to a roar of pain and agony. The fangs tightened their grip. Chip raised his forehooves to fend off the attacker, kicking ineffectually at the troll as he braced himself for the inevitable tearing out of his throat, and then—

—There was a loud clap of thunder and the fangs that had sunk into his neck jerked once, then loosened, as a torrent of warm, sticky ichor washed over his chest. Chip coughed and spluttered, leaking molten lava from the puncture wounds in his neck as he wheezed out the aborted flamespurt and reflexively kicked his forelegs at the now-still attacker. A whimpering, whinnying growl issued from Chip's muzzle with every breath, but as death failed to claim him and the fangs loosened more, with the jaws they were attached to slumping to the ground, Chip realized he was still alive. The warm rush of blood was mostly from his erstwhile enemy.

He burbled noisily as he struggled to rise. Where there was one, there would be another, when it recovered, it would pounce, when it pounced—

"Easy there, boss, we gotcha. Careful, you're hurt." Ivan's surprisingly calm patter broke through Chip's panicked fervor, and the youngster's eyes focused on four things – two of them were his friends Ivan and Ruff, the latter scooping up great pawfuls of stone and rubbing them together. Another was the lolling, empty-eyed head of the troll that had almost gutted him. And the final thing was the enormous slab of stone formed from two boulders which had been slammed together, trapping the rest of the troll in a space which was entirely too small to support such luxuries as 'breathing'.

He was safe – for a given value of safe. Gratefully, he collapsed to the hard-baked, sandy ground and focused on forcing air into and out of his lungs until the stars went away.

"Ruff… not sure what Ruff doing, but… lie down!" Ruff, with a surprisingly strong grip, pushed the pawfulls of granite against Chip's neck, swearing to himself in the guttural growling native language of the diamond dogs. Chip winced and cried out as he felt the lumps mold and flex like putty, and new daggers of pain lanced into his body. There was an odd stench in the air, almost like burning hair, and then suddenly Chip could breathe again.

He groaned and shook his friends off to stand. He almost fell, but refused to drop. "What…" Chip's voice was gravelly and rough. "What did you do?"

Ruff clapped his paws together then nodded at the slab of rock that stood where a troll used to be, still dripping blood from a crack up the middle. "Ruff is Stone Talker."

"And…" Chip coughed, knees buckling. "This?" He pointed a hoof at his neck.

"If I didn't know better, boss, I'd say he mortared the holes in your neck. Hell of a thing. I've seen dragons with old battle wounds do something similar; they sometimes use molten metal to stitch 'emselves back together. This… was a good idea. So don't knock it."

Chip spat and tasted fresh blood. His breathing rattled, but he was no longer going to bleed out. That had to be a plus even if his neck felt like a ton of bricks had fallen on it. He nodded, slowly, and chanced a grin. "Think you can do my back, too? And how're my wings looking?"

Ruff grinned back. For the moment, they had calm. The pup scooped up another pawful of rock, and once again tried to apply it to Chip's hide. This time it was a bit more difficult, but with some persuading, the pup managed to get it to meld and adhere. It would suffice as a field-dressing. First request dealt with, Ruff moved on to the second as Chip stretched first one wing and then the other.

"Wings look okay. A bit shredded, but will hold. They work?"

Chip nodded. "Seem to. I'll have to get 'em looked at as soon as we get outta this mess, but they'll hold. For now." Chip shook himself then almost collapsed against a water-butt, stars wheeling through his vision. Greedily, he dunked his head into the large water barrel and slaked his thirst. The water was tepid but clean. After drinking his fill, he spat mouthfuls onto his hooves, sluicing the worst of the blood off. Then he turned back to the pair waiting over where his quest had almost ended and appraised the damage: One troll dead by dragonfire, another troll dead by diamond dog lithomancy, and the latter wasn't just dead, it was puréed. Chip swallowed, wincing at the pain.

Ruff grinned, showing his teeth. "Ready to go? Ruff already taken care of the other one of these three."

There had been a third, thought Chip, eyes widening, and he didn't even break a sweat. "Good job, Ruff. Remind me never to piss you off," he said, blinking in surprise. Wincing as pain flared from his gnawed-on joints, Chip nodded and spat another wad of blood. "Up and at 'em," he husked. Akhekhu would learn who she was messing with, and it would be a lesson she wouldn't forget – if he could hold himself together. Looking up into the sky, the docking spire seemed mockingly close, their airship seemingly close enough to touch.

Gritting his teeth, Chip started to run.

♠♣♥♦

Carmine and Beth flapped their wings in concert with each other, lagging just behind Penny as they sailed through the bright blue sky. They made to look laboured but, thanks to Bella's weight-manipulation spell, were barely feeling even the slightest twinge of fatigue.

"How's it looking?" mumbled Penny around gritted teeth, gaze not faltering from her goal.

"All's quiet up ahead and this side, far as I can see," replied Carmine. "With luck it'll be a straight run to the Great Harmony, and then we're home free."

"Don't jinx it, Car. There's nothing to report on my side either, but I've a bad feeling in my gizzard – something's not right," grumbled Beth. "Last time was when that scorpion-bear went for the gazelle our flight was after. Damned near sent one of our scouts to Tartarus."

"Nothing's ever easy," huffed Carmine. "Take a peek behind us, Bella. Tell Beth she's all fluffed up about nothing, 'kay?"

There came a creaking of timbers as the firmly ensconced unicorn peered warily over the edge. A distressingly short while later, she spoke up. "Don't look now, but there's a whole lot of that nothing coming up behind us!" Bella's voice broke with a squeak, and she scrambled to double-check how securely tied down she was. "They're a ways below us, but heading this way. No idea what they are, but they look kinda angry."

"Bent beaks and broken talons," hissed Carmine, craning her neck to get a peek. She snapped her beak and flexed her foreclaws. "What do you suggest? Recon and retreat?" The griffon strengthened her wing-beats; playing dumb offered no further advantage. It was time to go on the offensive.

Beth nodded and widened her wing-beats too, glaring back over her shoulders into the distant, dark cloud. "Post haste."

Without another word, the two griffons peeled away left and right. They circled around each other and Penny then took up the other's place on the other side of the cart.

Bethany met Carmine's gaze and growled. "We're in trouble alright," she said.

"What is it?" asked Penny, jinking in the air as she sought to get a look behind.

"Must you! I'd like to keep my insides in!" moaned Bella, from the back of the cart.

Bethany ignored her. "There's a swarm of… well I'm not sure what, but they're heading our way," the griffoness continued flatly. "The cowards were hiding in our tail-feathers.

"I'd have guessed changelings," mused Carmine, "but these look different somehow."

"Think we can stay ahead of them?" the pegasus inquired.

"Nuh-uh," replied Carmine. "We're fast, but they're faster. They're gaining, whatever they are."

"Well then," huffed Penny, "I think it's time to give them a run for their money." The coppery pegasus whinnied as spread her wings wider and poured on the speed. "If it were just me," she added, gritting her teeth, "they'd never catch me."

"Sorry!" whimpered Bella.

"There's a 'but' in there," added Penny, grinning. "But they're gonna have to work for it because we've got something they don't have."

"What's that?" asked Bella, above the rising wind.

"They don't have a unicorn in the back who can cast fire spells."

Bella's shocked expression swiftly changed to one of chagrin and then mischievous malice. She shuffled around in the cart for a few seconds then hooked both forelegs over the rear fender. "You sure those whatever-they-ares are hostile?" she asked, breathing deeply as her body shook.

"B," snorted Carmine, "I'm a griffon. I've spent my life hunting small furry things that squeak when you squeeze 'em. I think I know when I spot another hunter."

"That's all I wanted to hear."

Moments later, the cart rocked, and a searing-hot ball of flames erupted from the unicorn's horn. The air sizzled as it hurtled downwards. Seconds later, there was an explosion which buffeted the cart again and caused the griffons to both squawk in surprise.

"That was one of your fire spells!?" exclaimed Penny, blinking in surprise.

"Sorry! It was supposed to be just a basic pyroblast. They're great for lighting campfires, but I guess I got a bit carried away."

Carmine and Beth shared a glance, and both broke out in raucous laughter.

"B, you get as carried away as you can!" Carmine encouraged.

"Well I don't want to fall out!" Bella protested.

"As if!" grumbled Penny, pouting. "I've gotten good with flying things around. You won't fall out, I promise."

"I-I believe you," stammered Bella. She screwed up her eyes again and concentrated. For a moment, her horn glowed brilliant purple, then another incandescent ball of flame grew from the tip. Seconds later it exploded into motion as if loosed from a cannon and sped downwards towards a dark, greyish-black mass of wings and claws. On impact, there was a detonation, and a clump of dark, greyish-black somethings fell groundwards.

"Good one!" cried Carmine.

"Not good enough," replied Bethany, "they're still coming."

"Keep at it, B! Take 'em out. Thin their ranks. When they get closer, then it's our turn. Penny," Carmine swooped in front of the copper-coloured pegasus and backwinged, propelling herself through the air in reverse. "Whatever you do, don't stop. Get to the Great Harmony. We may need the Wing Motion Gun."

Bella hissed through her teeth in between loosing off another pyroclastic volley. "Penny can't fire that thing with you two still in the air!"

"She can and will, if she has to," growled Carmine. "We've got one major advantage to that lot when it comes to dealing with the fallout from that cannon-thing: we know it's coming. Besides, with luck, it won't be an issue."

"Well don't look now, but we may be about to test that theory. Incoming!" Beth shouted. She screeched and spread her wings wide, catching the air. Her motion arrested, she dropped behind the pegasus-powered cart as it sped ahead. Once clear, Beth spun in the air, half folded her wings and dive-bombed the growing mass of approaching creatures. Screaming an incoherent battle cry, the enraged griffon then spread both her wings and talons and barrelled through the opposing force at full speed, her blade-enhanced appendages tearing through the brittle creatures like a hot knife through butter. Snapping her beak and tearing at what caught in it, she dashed still more out of the skies before clearing through them and looping up around behind them.

"For Tacksworn!" yelled Carmine as she too peeled off from the cart to join the battle. Hurtling through the hazy mass of indistinct forms, the griffoness got the distinct feeling that the creatures she was fighting weren't entirely all there. They were all wings and claws, but felt brittle like paper and hurt her eyes to look at. Individually they were insubstantial, but en masse they fouled her wings and caught in her beak. Slashing with knife-edged wings and bladed talons, she rent the skittering, flapping nuisances limb from limb, careening through the cloud in pass after pass, but slowly her incredible speed faltered. She flew through the mob again and again, but the black cloud of chittering monstrosities still advanced. When they caught at her head and eyes, she screamed in anger, but when they caught at her wings and dragged the griffon downwards, she wailed in despair.

Time seemed to slow as rabid, fanged entities snapped and snarled around her peripheral vision, blocking her beak. Her heart, already beating fast, increased its jack-hammering beat as she fought to remain conscious with the creatures blocking her airways.

The world was turning grey, the edges of her vision were turning black, the air was burning in her lungs…

...And suddenly bright, bilious flame roared around her and devoured the black plague. Gasping in the sulfurous fumes and acrid smoke, Carmine nevertheless got her breath back, just in time to twirl in anticipation of the oncoming attack from something else swooping past in the cloud.

Twin pools of yellow pierced the gloom, and Carmine instinctively swiped with her wings. The blades passed through nothing more substantial than vapour, and mocking laughter rattled through her skull.

"What do you want! Who are you! I'll kill you before I'll fall!" spat Carmine, lunging again with her talons at the obscured stranger.

"'Tis not I you should seek to vanquish, little hen. Take heed of my words, and duck."

The creature's voice was familiar, and deep in the recesses of her brain, her shocked mind put two and two together. She had heard the voice before, on the train from Stalliongrad.

"Wha'?" The griffoness managed, dipping in the air as her wing-beats faltered for a moment..

"I said duck," said the voice again, and the owner breathed in deeply. Carmine wasn't sure why – this was no dragon; surely he wasn't going to… and then her addled brain reminded her, sheepishly, about the huge torrent of flame that had literally just burned away her attackers. She squawked and drew her wings in close, dropping like a stone. Inches above her, so close she swore her crest was smouldering, another huge gout of burnosity incinerated a new wave of the whatever-they-weres that had been attacking.

And then, like the smoke that had wreathed it, the owner of the voice was gone.

Carmine hung in the air, breathing heavily to clear the fumes out of her lungs, with a perplexed expression wandering across her beak.

"What in the nine realms just happened?" yelled Bethany as she circled the other griffon.

"I… have no idea."

"And when did you learn to cast fire spells!?"

"I didn't! There was some… thing else there!"

"Are you sure? Are you sure it wasn't just a lucky shot from Bella, who totally needs our help by the way?" Bethany gestured with a wing, where a number of new somethings were swooping and diving at the pegasus and the cart she pulled, amidst a hale of incandescent magefire.

Carmine shook her head. The eyes, the voice… "I don't know, but one thing I do know is: you should never look a gift-pony in the mouth. Come on."

With dual, ear-splitting battle cries, the griffons once more entered the fray.

♠♣♥♦

Author's Note

So, six months - ish.

Man, that's a long time to wait. Hence the brief recap at the beginning of this chapter. Once I finish the story (or maybe once I publish the next chapter) I'll remove it... but for now, it's there to remind everyone where we were.

I hope it was worth the wait - and I remind you all, I've cut this chapter in two. Derp!

With great thanks to Cal and Jake for proofreading, q97randomguy for once again being patient enough to explain about how commas work and giving this a good solid read-through (man, I should just believe you more often when you talk about punctuation) and to the ferret for being generally awesome and telling me where my writing was wooden and unbelievable (I also stole a good number of scenes from him, thanks for that! :). I couldn't do this without you guys. Or I could, but I'd be crying into my hot chocolate after posting it.

Also, Agent Bentgrass (first name 'Agent') is kindly on loan from Jake, who has pilfered my dragon(s) enough times I thought it fair play to steal his pony. You really should go read under a luminous sky... if you're interested in the chronology of our stories, they're not necessarily in exactly the same world (namely we've not agreed on canon:), but if they were, this would be some time before UALS and it's sequels.

I bet there're still issues with it...

oh, and Fang was there too.

Shadows on the Ice

♠♣♥♦ King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
════════════════════

Chapter 26
Shadows On The Ice
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

♠♣♥♦

Arcane fire rent the sky as the dome of the heavens was torn asunder, accompanied by a roar of thunder that rolled through the mountain peaks, ominous and penetrating. A gleaming hulk of an airship emerged into the darkening sky above the Iceveldt; rotund like an overfed dragon, with stubby wings like a runty pegasus, it shed magic like the blood of a dead god. It listed heavily to one side, and flames billowed from several broken windows on a number of decks.

Nyyrik wrinkled his scarred beak, pulling his ratty cloak closer around him as he leaned on his faithful skymetal staff, clutched firmly in his foreclaws. There were lives clinging to that broken beast of a machine. He could feel them. They were weak, their spirits confused and lost, but they were alive. He was a hengenpuhuja; it was his calling to know that which was hidden and to help where he could, with his life if necessary, and where the windigo spread their vicious hatred, it was his place to bring succour.

Nyyrik's eyes narrowed as he thought of the windigo. He watched, grinding his beak angrily, as the stormclouds he'd been suffering under for the last three days twirled and spun, wreathing themselves around the slowly tumbling airship. The clouds seemed to be reaching at it, clawing and grabbing. The howling winds, as they once more built to a crescendo around him, almost seemed like the screams of some distant animals… which, in a way, they were.

It would take blood to arrest the machine's descent; nothing else would slow its fall enough in the short time left before the airship and the ground had a serious disagreement about right of way. Grunting, he pulled out a small hip-flask from the depths of his cloak and hastily unscrewed it. Swallowing a quick gulp of moonshine, he warbled throatily in appreciation of the burn before secreting the flask away whence it had come. Then, suitably fortified, he lifted a foreclaw and delicately sliced across his breast. He hissed in pain as the scarlet drops spilled across the pristine white snow, steaming as they fell. He took up his staff and pressed it to his breast, coating one end red before plunging it into the snow. He leaned on it again for a few seconds, wincing in pain, as the wound slowly healed. When it had, he straightened, then turned in a circle, dragging the tip around with him. One perfect circle complete, he drew another, larger circle just outside it, taking care not to step upon the first. Then he inscribed several sacred sigils between them, the passing of his staff sizzling through the snow. The sigils left behind glowed faintly. Where his magic circle begun, the wind had dropped to nothing. It flowed instead around the circle, leaving his work untouched. Nodding slightly, Nyyrik observed his work: the five point star of folding, the curved gate of summoning and the mark of binding. There then followed two very specific sigils, far more complex than their simpler geometric cousins. The snow continued steaming and melting long after they were completed, the designs more than just blood on ice. Satisfied, he moved to the center of his makeshift summoning circle.

"To me, demons of art and air!" he cried, fighting to raise his voice above the growing wind. "Your servant calls upon you now! Furtur, lord of storms! Chenor, granter of desires! Arrest this great craft's fall, that it may but softly kiss the bosom of Adatiel!" Nyyrik threw back his cloak, clasped his aged staff with both claws, and drove it into the ground. The sigils scrawled in the snow burned with blue fire, spectral flames leaping into the sky. Sparks and cinders rose high into the air, tumbling end over end, to surround the foundering airship like a cloak of stars.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the aircraft's tilt was corrected, and its rate of descent slowed.

Very slowly. Too slowly.

With a cacophony of sound that loosed snow from distant peaks, the craft struck the earth, burying itself into the deep snowdrifts, where it settled, burning still.

Winded, Nyyrik hobbled towards it, snatching more sips from his illicit flask. The Iceveldt was harsh on the old, but it was even harsher on the lost. He prayed to Veguaniel that he was not too late.

♠♣♥♦

"Fire the Wing Motion Gun!"

"But what about Chip and—?"

"Just fire it! Now!"

Bethany had watched, heart thumping so hard she could have sworn it would burst, as the dark, mighty shape of a bird so huge it blotted out the sun was torn from the sky when the fearsome main cannon of the Great Harmony bellowed once. Below, in the city, buildings were toppled, their bricks pulverized into dust. Innocent bystanders were sent fleeing from the devastation, screaming and hollering in fear. The massive airship had lurched and listed, dead in the air like a beached whale. Klaxons wailed mournfully as all the lights went out and the controls died. The noise was deafening, almost physical. Their song was a jumble of sound, perplexing and insistent. It seemed to ring inside her head, battering her body in its intensity. It was then that the changelings had attacked, the few that had managed to get in before the ship's defences had come back online had come screeching through the hallways, wings buzzing madly and fangs drawn. They had fallen upon her and her friends in a vicious frenzy, changing forms freely and often until it was impossible to know friend from foe. Bethany had watched as Bella had retaliated the only way she knew how: with fire. And the airship had burned. The flames had blinded the young griffin, the belching black smoke had burned her nostrils—

With a start, Bethany awoke. The return from slumber was not a pleasant one; her head ached, her beak was quite possibly bent and it felt like she'd been pummelled all over by a large bag of rocks or a medium sized mace... and flashing warning lights were indeed half blinding her, and her nostrils were indeed stinging. The rank, acrid stink that brought tears to her eyes was emanating from a small glass vial held in front of her face – it held smelling salts. It had been these that had jolted her from her slumber. Ruff still held them out hopefully, shaking her every so often.

She batted them and their bearer away and rolled to her claws, glancing around at the ship with shock as she did so. The bridge was in shambles and listing to one side. Some of the diamond windows had shattered, though many were cracked; this was somewhat fortunate, because it had let the smoke from the burning instruments out and they hadn't died from the almost certainly toxic fumes. It was also troubling, because it was letting some very frigid air in and the temperature was dropping rapidly. As if that wasn't enough, whilst there were a number of greenish-blue puddles filled with pieces of black chitin strewn about the area – the remnants of the changeling incursion – she had no idea if that was all of them. Then again, paranoia wouldn't be useful. Changelings so far had only used their shape-shifting for offence. She'd been knocked out, that much was clear. Since she'd woken up, she and her friends had obviously won. Just at what cost?

"Oww my head," Bethany groaned as she fought to sit up, lashing her leonine tail and fluttering her wings. "Split pinions… is everyone in one piece? What happened? You know, after..." She put one foreclaw to her head, shaking it gently.

"Ruff not sure," replied Ruff, helping her up. "Ship go into other space… ship come out of other space. But when ship come out, not flying straight. Ruff think we crash." The pup looked around ruefully, rubbing the back of his own head.

"Urgh. I thought Chip was… Chip is okay, right?" Bethany squawked, her neck feathers fluffing up with worry. "I don't think we'd have jumped without him, right?"

"Ruff… uh… Ruff not sure." Ruff's ears stuck out sideways and he whined. "Ruff go check! Ruff find!"

"Hey, no, wait—" cried Bethany at the retreating shape, but the pup was too fast. "Just… be careful out there," she mumbled. The little mutt was swinging from pawhold to pawhold like some sort of miniature monkey as he propelled himself through the battered ship. In moments, he was gone. He'd have better luck traversing the ship than she, Beth realised, if the corridors were at all in similar condition to the bridge. She picked up the jar of smelling salts that Ruff had left behind, and went in search of the others.

She found Bella near the orrery, snoring. She rolled the mare over and held out the bottle of smelling salts. For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then the mare convulsed, lifted her head, took a deep breath and almost threw up.

"Beth?" croaked Bella, eyes fluttering open. "What happened? Last I remember was… changelings attacking?"

"'M not sure," replied Beth, helping the groggy unicorn to her hooves. "Ruff says we crashed."

Bella gestured with her horn at the devastation around them, shifting some of the debris with her magic. "I'm inclined to agree."

"...And you'd be right. Hey girlfriend!" crowed Carmine. The pink hued griffon leaped in from the lower decks – now more the 'sider' decks, since the ship was listing so badly – and glided awkwardly to the floor, or at least to the curved wall which was currently enough floor-like to get away with walking it. Penny fluttered awkwardly down next to her.

"So what happened whilst we were out?" asked Bethany, pointing a wing at herself and Bella.

"After the changelings jumped you and Bella and tried to suck out your brains, you mean? We've been chasing stragglers, by the way. They're not a problem anymore." Carmine picked at one of her claws with her beak, then spat into one of the puddles that lay around the decking.

"Don't take this wrong," said Bella carefully, exchanging glances with both Carmine and Bethany, tensing her neck muscles and igniting her horn in readiness to defend herself, "but can I be sure you're you?" She lashed her tail as she stared coolly at her two friends.

"Well if I were a changeling," said Bethany slowly, eyes narrowing as she thought for a suitable answer, "I wouldn't know that Chip vanished before our eyes when we went to see the emperor, or that Chip had an embarrassing attack of coprolitus aureus when he came back? And if you can trust me, you can trust that I can tell the difference between changelings and the real thing. That's Carmine and Penny, and Ruff was authentic too. So're you, by the way."

"Gee, thanks," huffed Bella. The unicorn dug her hoof into the decking thoughtfully. "Okay then; for now, we're who we appear to be. So, what happened to you two?" She stared at Carmine and Penny.

"The changelings would've got me and Penny too, but I was in the WMG chamber when they sprung us. The little bastards got in when the big gun went off. It knocked out all our systems for a few seconds again, like last time. Then, I guess, Chip got onboard and we jumped. After that, Pen and I were busy repelling the boarders we'd taken on when the lights were out. Then we crashed."

"And what happened to Chip?" asked Bethany.

"He's not come to find you?" squawked Carmine, eyes going wide. Bethany shook her head. "He is onboard though, right? He must have been… I assumed he was busy with changelings too, but… I haven't found any for a while."

"He was," replied Penny. "Ship wouldn't have jumped without him. Last I heard he was outside, heading for the cargo bay. On wings." She flapped her own wings for emphasis.

"Then I think we have a problem," said Carmine warily, staring each of her friends in the eyes. "See, Penny and I killed the changelings… but I think something else may have come aboard after we crashed."

"Oh no," groaned Penny. "Then we'd better get down there and find Chip immediately. And Ruff!"

"And put out the rest of these fires," grumbled Bethany, glaring at Bella.

"When all you have is a hammer..." muttered the unicorn, but she did at least have the decency to blush.

♠♣♥♦

Distant whispers impinged on the darkness, indistinct sounds that grated in his ears. Chip groaned as he pried his eyes open. There was a sudden flare of bright light, and he squeezed them shut again until little stars burst in his vision. The glare hurt. The chittering whispers that had been echoing in his ears grew louder, and then suddenly stopped. The silence was deafening.

"Come..." whispered a voice, so silent Chip wasn't sure he'd heard it.

"Ugh, go 'way!" he mumbled, kicking out with his hooves and rolling about helplessly, heedless of the discomfort of his wings digging into his sides.

"Come with us..." the voice whispered again, seemingly nearer. Chip kicked out with a hoof again, but met nothing. He wanted to sleep, he wanted to rest. Why wouldn't the voices leave him be?

"Come…!"

"By the bells of Tartarus won't you leave me alone!" Chip shouted, striking out with all four hooves. He winced; pain wracked his body as his hoof impacted a netting spur. The jolt sparked him fully awake, and he rolled onto his belly, breathing heavily until the nausea passed. "My head," he groaned, holding his forehooves to his temples. "What happened?"

Chip realised he was alone, shivering in the dark. It was cold in the cargo bay where he'd passed out, as the airship had left Leviathania. Frost coated the walls of the hold and the room was slowly filling with snow. It was streaming in through the open hatch, as was an odd, bright light from somewhere outside. The dancing shadow of something moving around outside played across the walls.

"Hello?" Chip called, standing up slowly, his ears flicking about as he searched for the source of the sounds. "Who's there?" He held his breath as he listened, afraid to move lest the rattling of his armour drown out the noise.

"Come with us, brave warrior. We're waiting for you. We're all waiting for you..." The voice was soft and sibilant, but it hurt his ears.

"What? Who are you? What do you want?" Chip looked around the deserted bay, trying to get his bearings; the airship was dead - its silence in that new corner of his mind worrying, like a limb numb from removal that he frantically wanted to just move once please! - and his head was ringing like a bell. To top it off, some clowns were dancing around outside, flashing bright lights about. He stepped warily towards the cargo bay door, only to pause; the flickering lights and the shadows they had cast had retreated.

"Who is that? Carmine?" Chip bounded forwards, his hooves sinking up to his fetlocks in the snow as he stood in the middle of the hatch, his figure framed by the ship. The lights and their bearers only retreated further into the distance. He bounded forwards again a few steps, weighed down by his armour as it filled with snow. He shrugged off what he could, barely feeling the biting cold as it now drove at his pelt, before bounding on a few more feet with renewed vigour and lighter hoofsteps.

"We're waiting for you… come with us… you'll not fear the cold… you'll not fear hunger…" The voices were wheedling and indistinct, not so much speaking to him as pushing buttons somewhere deep inside, neither their volume nor their clarity affected by the wind. He shook his head, pulling back; there was nothing but darkness ahead, no sounds but the howling wind and the soft pitter-patter of the falling snow… what was he doing out here again? Just as he was about to retreat back inside, he caught sight of the flickering lights again, far off in the distance; dimly seen shapes, lit by those ghostly blue lights, trudging through the snow...

"Carmine!" he yelled, spurred into action. He'd seen her! It had to have been her! It had to have been Carmine... and Bethany? What were they doing? Where were they going? Even Penny, Bella and Ruff were out there… he shook his head as he leaped forwards towards the lights and the shadowy figures that bore them. The blurry shapes of his companions faded ever further into the distance, even as he sped up to catch them. He was far outside the airship now, hock deep in drifts and half blind from the blizzard-driven snow, but he didn't have time to worry about that. Why were his friends abandoning him? Was this just some game to them?

"No!" he cried, as he once again spied his friends. "Come back! Wait! All of you!"

"They left you. They came with us. You should come with us. Come…"

"Bloody well wait for me you rat bastards…!" Chip half galloped and half bounded, wings half-spread, through the snow as it piled up around his belly, in pursuit of the flickering lamp lights of his compatriots, urged on by the whispering, cajoling, half-heard voices in his head. The airship was soon lost far behind, and the storm swallowed him.

♠♣♥♦

Queen Emerald hissed in displeasure as the last of her minions hobbled back to the hive. The hunting had been weak in Leviathania - several of her prime new worghound specimens had been lost and her quarry had slipped from their grasp. All in all, she was tempted to call the entire operation an abject failure. Her lips curled up over her fangs in displeasure and she briefly considered what punishment to mete out. The silent clarion call in her mind from the dragon queen Akhekhu dismissed such broodings, she would have to postpone judgement. With a tendril of thought, she established a scrying link with her... employer, and was somewhat surprised to find amusement emanating from the wyrm instead of the wrath she had expected.

"You are not vexed, Lady Akhekhu?" asked Emerald. "I, for one, am perplexed. That which we sought has fled; we are left empty hoofed and my hive is diminished."

Akhekhu, deep in her distant lair, smiled languidly. "Do not fret, Emerald, my pet. The game is afoot, that is all."

Emerald bristled at the label 'pet', seething silently. "Then it is to plan that the little prince has… slipped our clutches?" replied the changeling queen, airily, needling the dragon.

"Details, details." The dragon waved a claw nonchalantly, then gestured at Emerald with a single, shining talon. "I have other work for your hive, and a new shipment for you to drain, convert and feed your hive with. I understand the loss of your infantry is taxing, but I assure you, they were as replaceable for you as they were for me."

"They were my children, Lady Akhekhu. I mourn every one that is lost." Emerald's eyes glowed for a moment, angry and bright, and she lashed her phantasmic fiery tail.

"Build them a monument, then, to attest to their… exemplary performance," Akhekhu grinned, showing her teeth. "My plans continue apace, and I require your services still. Or have you already grown weary of your consort?"

"My lady, we are still as one in purpose as we are in mind." replied Emerald, stiffly.

"Calm yourself, my pet," said Akhekhu, ignoring how the changeling queen bristled again at her choice of words. "When one fishes for sport, and the prey is hooked fast at the end of the line, one does not trouble oneself with fighting it as it flees. On the contrary, one lets it run. One lets it think it has escaped. One lets it tire. And then, when it has expended its energy in futile acts of flight, then is the time to strike. It is then that one reels it in, and then that one lands it. I shall be in touch, Emerald. Be ready." Akhekhu cast another globe of light before her as she cut contact with the changeling hive. The ball reformed into the likeness of an earth pony, though it bore an odd type of pack-saddle on its back, to which were affixed a pair of wings.

The dragoness stroked her muzzle thoughtfully, picking pieces of something small and furry from her teeth. The little troublemaker and his friends had bested Emerald's devilhounds, they had bested her own Haljaspawn Chittering Crows and they had even downed a roc. This prize was one worthy of her talents. She resolved that she would own the little prince from hock to hindquarters; she would have him bow down before her, and she would have him crush the life from his erstwhile companions by his own dainty little hooves, and thank her for it.

She was amused, that was all.

So very, very, amused.

"Swim, little fishy," she said quietly, as the flickering figure puffed into smoke at the snap of a claw and vanished. "Swim."

♠♣♥♦

The capital city of Leviathania – officially known as D'Long Kerk, unofficially known by a large number of epithets and a few choice gestures – was a diverse and complicated metropolis. In places it was opulent, extravagant and glistening with riches. In other parts it was run down, pokey and downright decrepit.

It wasn't usually, though, quite so decrepit.

"I do hope nobody was hurt, my dear Quincy," said Celestia sweetly, neatly stepping over a pile of rubble that had once been the wall of a rather spacious warehouse. "And I hope the damage isn't too extensive."

"Oh, nothing major. Just infrastructure. I appreciate the offer to help with the repairs, however," said a large, sinuous, multi-coloured, winged serpent as it padded through the streets next to her.

He stood a good metre or so higher than Celestia, and though he walked with an ungainly gait on two relatively small hind legs, he held himself with such presence that it was easy to forget that he waddled. It wasn't proving easy for Celestia, however, to forget that the vexing creature could appear as any size when he put his mind to it, and had chosen to be just tall enough that to address him properly, she was forced to lift her head each time to look him in the eyes. "I am… only too pleased to assist those nations which are less fortunate than Equestria," she replied, smiling magnanimously. She hadn't offered. And he knew it. "Do you require any assistance with medical services?"

"The dragons and other citizens that fall under my aegis are well in claw, my dearest princess, though you may be able to offer better care to your own people who have been inconvenienced by this occurrence."

"There are ponies here? I didn't know that any were involved. I shall arrange for their immediate extraction, so as not to be a burden on your already taxed rescue services."

"Oh they are no burden, your highness, but you may of course take your people as you see fit. I shall provide you with a full list of travellers to my realm. I do keep track of visitors." Quincy – otherwise known as Quetzalcoatl, the emperor of all dragons – smiled toothily.

Celestia paused, just for a moment, then resumed her carefully measured hoof-steps. "Would you happen to know what caused this… incident?"

"It is strange you should say that, but there was an unannounced arrival from, we presume, Equestria. By airship. An airship of most curious design, the likes of which I have not seen before."

"A curious design, you say?" wondered Celestia aloud, blinking innocently. "Do tell."

"It appears this airship was no merchant vessel, your highness. It was bedecked for battle. Replete with cannon. One of which, it appears, suffered some sort of malfunction. I can fathom no other reason for it to fire upon my city and place my people in danger." Celestia's half-drawn breath sounded loud in the sudden quiet. She put a wing to her muzzle in shock, eyes wide. A gesture with the other wing at the devastation from her was accompanied with a slow nod from the draconic emperor. She dropped her head, brow furrowed, deep in throught.

"Rest assured, your grace," said Celestia, softly, raising her head once more, her gaze and voice both full of steel, "that I am even now endeavouring to get to the bottom of this most tragic of accidents." Celestia smiled sweetly, but her jaw muscles locked as she showed her pristine, white teeth.

"Ah, be calm, my dearest Celestia. I am sure that this whole thing is indeed nothing but a rather unfortunate accident. I place no blame on, nor do I deliver insult to, you or your diarchy. It would be rather premature, not to mention hasty and short-sighted, to see today's most unfortunate happenstance as an act of aggression or, may the Egg forbid, of war."

"I would indeed be loath to call upon my own forces and exchange blows with the most esteemed nation of Leviathania, much less the draconic hegemony. Such action would be petty and fruitless. I would much rather we discuss our issues like two civilized creatures, exchanging what information we have for the betterment of both our causes. For instance, I am informed that there may be…" Here Celestia stopped for a good long moment. She waved a wing around as if it were searching for an air current. "I am informed there may be dragons involved."

"Dragons? Oh my. My hegemony is large—"

"And I assure you, I am firm in the belief that they are acting upon their own agency, should my information prove correct."

"Thank you for candidness, your highness. My own agents inform me that this battleship – not that I am suggesting you are responsible for such a ship of war appearing in my skies – was crewed by beings from Equestria."

"Equestrians? That is a shocking development. Would I could tell you more, but I have no agents of the crown within your demesnes, merely travellers, and you surely must understand that matters of defense of my own realm is a private affair, even amongst such good friends as you and I."

"I don't doubt your word for a moment, my dear Celestia. Having agents in another's domain would be quite the insult. I would have to summon your diplomats and chastise them most severely."

"As I yours."

"Indeed."

The two stopped in the middle of the ruined street, smiling at each other with genuine amusement and camaraderie, despite the hardness behind their eyes, before continuing their tour of the devastated city sections.

"You have a beautiful city, Quincy. It rivals even my own citadel of Canterlot," Celestia whispered, a few minutes later.

"Ah, but nothing could rival Canterlot, my dearest Tia. It is a beautiful city, overshadowed only by your own radiance." The dragon lifted Celestia's hoof and placed a gentle kiss upon it.

"Sweet talker," Celestia muttered under her breath, exactly loudly enough for only Quincy to hear.

Quincy laughed, spreading his arms and wings wide. "Come! A state visit should end with a state banquet!" He clapped his paws, and from seemingly nowhere, attendants arrived with two carriages. He gestured for Celestia to climb into one, and then retired to the other, and the colourful procession moved swiftly off towards the palace.

♠♣♥♦

Swinging paw over paw, Ruff eased himself into the battered hold.

"Chip? Chip? You here?" he called, his voice echoing in the silence. It seemed the hold was empty. In fact, the airship itself seemed to be… dead. Even the engines were quiescent, their all-pervading hum absent.

There was no answer. There was also no Chip. He shivered. The hold was half full of snow, and frost covered every available surface. The bay was dark, even the light-crystals had dimmed, but now that Ruff looked around, he spied odd, dancing shadows on the walls that grew more and more distinct. There was somebody outside, maybe rescuers carrying lamps?

"Hello?" Ruff called. "Who there?"

"Come…" said a whispering voice. It was joined by many more voices, all clamouring with similar sibilant exhalations for him to follow. He growled, low in his throat. There was something wrong here, something just didn't smell right.

"Who are you? What want?" Ruff bared his fangs, scrabbling at his ears as the voices became nothing more than an odd, discordant buzzing. Their noise hurt, it made him sick. "Shut up!" he roared. As the echoes died away, he found they had.

And then the ball of flame flittered in through the open hatch.

"Who you?" Ruff asked it, as it flickered around the room. It ignored him, but seemed no less self-propelled. It flickered to the dead light-crystals, then danced up to the cargo crane. Ruff padded forwards slowly, to the center of the cargo bay, watching as the odd sprite made a few more circuits, seemingly interested in the doors, windows and other tech. He racked his brain, thinking carefully, as he tried to figure this thing out. He'd heard of creatures such as these... Once, when visiting distant relatives, he'd been told stories about ghostly lights by an aged great aunt of some sort, the only member of the pack that had ever done more than threaten to kill him.

"Ruff knows of you!" the pup cried, half in fear and half in anger. "Wisp! Will'o the wisp! You leave! You bad!"

As Ruff cried out its name, the flickering flame stopped, then floated slowly towards him, growing larger and yet less distinct as it did so. Ruff took a step back as the flame billowed and coalesced into something closer to a form he recognized; it grew four spindly legs, the tips of which were shod with cloven hooves. It grew a tail – ghostly and wretched, but a tail nonetheless – and a head with a long muzzle and two mobile ears, atop a long neck with a ratty, unkempt mane. It had two eyes that burned blue with malice. It had what appeared to be teeth, though they were pointed, shattered and broken instead of flat and even. Each step it took rattled, and Ruff's eyes widened as he spied spiked, bloody chains wrapped around the twisted, wraithlike creature, chains that tore into its glowing, see-through flesh and dripped burning blood that vanished before it touched the snow.

"We are not wisps, little dog. We are so much more." The voice that emanated from the ghastly creature was no longer soft and sibilant. It was like claws scraping on a chalkboard, as hideous as its owner's features. Ruff whined, stepped back, then gestured. With a horrific tearing noise, a spire of rock speared through the hull of the ship and pierced the spectral monster. It didn't even flinch, it just grinned wider, showing more broken teeth. Its eyes glowed brighter still as it advanced, and Ruff felt fear wash over him. His blood sang in his ears and the room darkened. He folded up into a ball, whimpering, as the temperature in the room dropped even further. His breath steamed, his fur turned white as frost crept across his body like rot on a piece of fruit, and slowly – ever so slowly – his shivering body grew more and more still.

"That's right, little troll. Give in, give up… let your fear consume you as we consume your soul…" Its face, already decrepit, grew more hideous as it neared the whimpering troll. Phantasmal skin melted away to reveal leprous, broken bones. Its rotted, matted hair fell out in clumps. Its grin, already rictus, consumed Ruff's failing vision and its rank, fetid breath choked him. Ruff batted feebly at the monster, whining, his motions erratic and pathetic. He gasped as he felt his heart falter, mouthing like the fish he would catch in the streams at home, flopping helplessly on the bank as they drowned in the air… the world grew dim, there was a rushing in his ears...

"Adnachiel! Miczariel! Nestorats!"

There was a sudden bright flash of warm heat and light, and the malevolent wraith threw back its head and screamed. In a blink, it folded in upon itself and fled. Moments later, Ruff felt friendly claws reach around his forearm, lifting him upright.

"That's it, my young pup. Up you get. Easy now, take it easy, but you must get up."

Light and life returned to Ruff as he felt a warm cloak envelope him. A warm, fragrant cloak. It smelled of spoiled fruit and rotten meat.

"He-help… help Ruff! Help Chip!" Ruff moaned, staggering, as he looked up into the kind, wizened eyes of an old griffon. The cloak that was around his shoulders was the creature's wing, the feathers greasy and ill-preened.

"Vetis, breathe upon him," whispered the griffon, and he gestured with a claw, writing sigils in the air. Where the griffon's talon passed, fire burned momentarily in space. All of a sudden, Ruff felt himself… kind of inflate, as energy seemed to well up within his body.

"Who…?" Ruff gasped, as the world gained colour and warmth once more. Unfortunately, that included the full restoration of his sense of smell. He continued to gasp, though now his breaths were accompanied by whines and scrabblings at his nose with his claws.

"I am known as Nyyrik, my young friend," the old griffon cawed, grinning thinly. "I am here to help. And by the looks of it, I got here just in time!"

"You must help Ruff, must help us all!" begged Ruff.

"I will, young one, but first…" The griffon stiffened as more ghostly lights sent twisted, flickering shadows dancing upon the walls. "I fear I must help myself." He spun, raised himself up on his hind paws, spread his wings and threw open his foreclaws. "Pazuzu! Lord of the Plagues! Master of the four winds! Blow!"

Ruff yelped as the howling wind that had been playing freely outside the ship suddenly boomed throughout the cargo hold and a gale bludgeoned the walls.

"If you have help to get, young master Ruff, then I suggest you go get it!" the scruffy old bird cried, as the flickering lights began to gather yet again in the darkness outside.

"Ruff… Ruff get help!" the pup replied enthusiastically, and he bolted out the cargo bay door, weaving between the flickering flames. In dismay, the pup skirted his friend's armour, pausing only to get his quarry's scent, before bounding off into the snow, following the tracks Chip had left.

"That's the wrong… damn and blast it! Come back!"

"Ruff getting help! Ruff fetch Chip!" Ruff shouted back as he disappeared into the blizzard.

"You're going to freeze out in the open!" yelled Nyyrik, bellowing as loudly as he could. "And that's if those wretched—"

"Ruff diamond dog! Ruff not freeze, Ruff dig!" The pup's distant words were swallowed by the storm, even as more flickering lights poured in through the doorway, ignoring the troll in their eagerness to deal with the old griffon.

"Fresh from his first taste of the wisps, and he has already forgotten their sting," grunted Nyyrik to himself, uncorking his ever-present hipflask and taking another swig. "I am not sure if that is bravery or foolishness." Replacing it, he set his staff upright before him even and bowed his head, motionless. The wisps billowed out to take on the corpse-like demonic pony shapes that had attacked Ruff before, leering and cackling amongst themselves.

"Hear me now, Och, my master. Aid your disciple in his hour of need," mumbled Nyyrik.

"Feel our cold, daemon-speaker… feel your bones rot, feel your blood freeze in your veins. Feel your heart falter…" intoned the ghastly horde, as they poured into the hold. Nyyrik ignored them, and continued whispering to himself. They advanced inspite of this, cautious step after careful step, screeching and calling to each other.

"Fill my lungs with your breath, my master. Fill my body with your heat…"

"Your breath grows shallow, little worm. Your wings grow weak. Your words… fail."

"My… master…" Nyyrik croaked, huddling closer to his staff as more and more flickering lights drifted in through the open hatch. As the creatures grew closer still, taking on their twisted pony-like forms once again, Nyyrik felt the cold of the chamber intensifying. His breath caught in his throat and his grip on his staff faltered.

"We have you now, old one. We will strip your flesh from your bones, we will pluck out your feathers one by one, we will—"

"You'll do no such thing!" cried a new voice. "Girls? Get 'em!"

Nyyrik looked up, his beak falling open in shock, as four forms appeared in a doorway behind him and all but exploded into the cargo bay. There were two griffins, young hens with but a few years since their first flight. They set about the wretched wraiths with their wingblades, slashing and jabbing, whilst two ponies – a unicorn and a pegasus – leaped into the fray, flailing about with their hooves. The despair that had gripped his heart lifted in a moment, and he bellowed out an amazed laugh, standing up straighter. "My good young friends, such bravery! It quite warms my heart! Let me show you my appreciation! Master Och! Now! Let your breath fill my body, let your voice be mine!"

Nyyrik took a deep breath, opened his beak wide, and screeched a war-cry that filled the cargo bay, then overflowed out into the driving snow. The griffons and ponies before him cowered as the bellow burst through the enclosed space, but the effect it had on the ghastly apparitions was even more pronounced. It swept across them all, picking them up and slamming them around from wall to wall, battering them against what cargo remained before finally blasting them out the hatch.

The whirlwind from nowhere then subsided, leaving the four young adventurers reeling in shock, whilst the dirty old buzzard coughed and hacked, wheezing as he lifted a grubby metal hip-flask to his beak for another swig.

In the relative peace that followed, Nyyrik hobbled forwards, hunched over his staff and breathing heavily. "Young ones, I must congratulate you on such a display of what must be—" he huffed, half spent— "either selfless bravery or brazen foolishness. Whichever it was, was most well-timed. I thank the Lords above and below. Quite a sight for sore eyes. Quite a sight indeed." He grinned lecherously, flicking his moth-eaten hawk's tail out wide and puffing out his chest.

"Any time, old one," said Bethany guardedly, clicking her beak. Her gesture was mirrored by the others of their small group - quiet thanks behind guarded expressions.

"Just one question," chirped Carmine, holding up one foreclaw and levelling it at the newcomer, both to address him as well as to keep him at claw's length distance. "Well, two. Who are you… and what were they?"

"As I said to your impatient young friend Ruff, I am Nyyrik. And those wretched, vile creations are known as the pooka."

"Pooka?" asked Carmine, blinking furiously.

"Yes. They dwell on the souls of the lost, taking on the forms they once had in life. If young… Ruff? Yes, Ruff, was right about them taking your other friend – Chip, I believe the pup said his name was – then I fear there is little to be done but mourn his loss, and the loss of young Ruff too."

"Mister," huffed Bethany, clenching her claws into the snow beneath her body, "you had better be wrong about that. We've come far too far to give up on each other on the words of some…" her eyes roved up and down his decrepit appearance, and her ears flicked back flat against her head, "filthy old bird."

"Ixnay on the ilthy-fay," hissed Penny, hoofing Bella in the ribs. "He's a mobile WMG and I don't think you should piss him off!"

"I don't like the look of him, and I don't like how he's looking at me," hissed Bella back. The old griffin laughed, bowing mockingly, his eyes roving up and down the unicorn's flank. Bella turned pointedly towards him, subtly lowering her horn.

"Fear not, my dear mare. I am sworn to protect the good and virtuous, even those with foul mouths." He waggled a foreclaw admonishingly, then turned, gesturing with a wing as he headed for the cargo bay hatch. "Come on, there will be time for fuller introductions and better explanations later. For now, we should not tarry here. If only you had not seen fit to find your way to the Iceveldt in early spring, but that is air under the wings. In summer, you would merely have to deal with the worgs and tatzlwurms; in winter naught but cold which freezes the blood and the icetrolls that prey on the unwary; but spring… spring and autumn is when the pooka hunt. Come. Come!" Nyyrik staggered out into the driving snow and darkness, gesturing with his staff before taking another swig of his seemingly bottomless flask.

"What do you think?" asked Bella.

"He is a magus," muttered Bethany. "He speaks true, even if he is filthy and lecherous."

"And I have good ears, too!" Nyyrik squawked. "Follow, and quickly. If you desire proof of my words about your lost compatriots, then look no further than their tracks. Lumos!" The dirty old griffon raised his staff, and it burst into cold fire that illuminated the veldt, revealing a blustery tundra submerged in ice and surrounded by snow.

Carmine slunk out into the cold behind him, fluffing up her feathers against the biting wind. There, leading off into the distance, were three sets of tracks. One belonged to Nyyrik, the other two clearly did not. She swore something most unladylike, then turned to her friends. "Come on, the old buzzard is right. There's nothing we can do now."

"Then shouldn't we stay here?" asked Bethany, raising her voice against the howling wind as she joined Carmine outside.

Nyyrik shook his head, clicking his beak. "The pooka will hunt until sun up. If you stay here, you'll be naught but bleached bones by break of day."

"Then shouldn't we search for Chip and Ruff?" argued Penny, fluttering her wings and spreading them over her body for warmth.

"Only if you have grown tired of living," grumbled Nyyrik. "The storm will blow for a good few hours yet, and when it clears the temperature will drop. All who wander without shelter will freeze."

"All the more reason to find Ruff and Chip then!" yelled Bella angrily, stomping a hoof and sending up a puff of snow.

"No, the old one is right," huffed Bethany, her breath steaming in the cold night air. "Chip'll have to take care of himself, and if Ruff has any smarts on him at all, he'll dig in under the snow until morning. Take us to safety, magus, and quickly. I hate the snow."

♠♣♥♦

It truly was dark. The sun had gone down an unknown number of hours ago and there was nothing to guide him any more, not even Chip's scent. The wind had dropped to little more than a light - if bone-chilling - breeze, too slight to do much but agitate the almost solid wall of snowflakes as they fell around Ruff's ears and settled on his back.

It was pitch black, the kind of darkness you only heard about in old fairy tales told around warm campfires. He was surrounded by the sort of stygian darkness which usually only lurks outside the holt whilst you curl up safe and warm beside mama and papa under the furs.

Not that he had been safely under the furs next to mama and papa for a long time… until he'd become a Skychaser. Suddenly, Ruff felt very, very alone. And very, very determined. He had a pack now, and his position in it was so very, very far from the bottom. He had a duty. He would not let Chip or the others down. He would not let himself down.

And that meant, he realized, that Chip was on his own until daybreak.

Almost as if it had been waiting for his own ray of light to pierce the darkness, the snowfall stopped and the billowing clouds parted to reveal a carpet of diamond-bright jewels studding the inky velvet expanse of the night sky. Ruff could almost see the temperature drop; starlight was reflected in a myriad points of lights across the tundra that spread out before him, a billion silvern pinpricks painted on the snow, the rocks, the plants, their leaves and even the trees.

He shivered as trunks cracked, cannon-shots sounding out from distant battles against the chill. Chip was out there, somewhere, in all this ice… but Chip wasn't here. Whether they had both been led astray or had just wandered, they were both well and truly lost. With the return of Celestia's sun, and hopefully some semblance of warmth, he'd be able to hunt for food and his friends, or at least he'd be able to skirt back to the airship and then, maybe, retrace their steps. But right now, he wasn't going to be able to get anywhere better than right here.

Ruff lifted his nose, sniffing, then dug his nose into the snow. Pulling his muzzle back up and sneezing the ice crystals out, he had confirmed Nyyrik's advice: It was cold out here. Who'd have guessed.

Scrabbling with his forepaws, he excavated down under the snow, digging deeper and deeper until he hit cold, hard dirt. And then he dug some more. Some time later, and he had dug himself a cozy little nest in the dark, several feet under the almost petrified topsoil, with two entrances to ensure airflow and a minimal, slightly raised hollow to retain his body heat.

Curling up tight against the residual chill, Ruff closed his eyes… and thought of home.

♠♣♥♦

Moonrise over the mountains set the tundra aflame with blue fire as the brilliance of the heavens was reflected and refracted by a sea of snow and ice. The storm had blown over hours ago, but Chip hadn't stopped walking. The temperature had dropped rapidly once the cloudcover had vanished, but that had just numbed the pain from torn muscles and his barely healed wounds.

The voices had never stopped talking to him, had never stopped revealing to him how his friends had betrayed him, how they had left him, how they had abandoned him. The voices said his friends had vanished into the night; they hadn't needed him, they hadn't wanted him.

Well maybe he didn't need them.

He thought about sleep. Sleep sounded good. More than once, he stumbled and fell, plunging his body into a snowdrift. The last few times, the icy sting had woke him from his semi-slumber. This last time… it almost felt warm. He'd even stopped shivering. With ice in his heart, the pain had all but vanished.

But… no. Something wasn't right. Something wasn't right at all.

The voices cajoled him louder as they felt him falter. Shutupshutup… he shouted inside his head until he'd drowned out their cacophony. He shook his head as he finally found silence, and room to start to think again. He'd been the one to run out on his friends… there had been lights but… they couldn't have been his friends. His friends wouldn't do that to him.

They just wouldn't.

Then why, prodded a part of his mind that he had long though he'd lost, were you so busy cursing their names. Why were you so busy chasing after phantom lights?

Chip didn't know what pooka were. He might have been told stories about them, many years ago… but pooka weren't something grown foals bothered with. He did know, now he thought about it, that snow shouldn't feel warm. All in a rush, sensation returned. His legs burned, his wounds stung, his chest hurt. His nose and ears were numb, and a thick coating of ice coloured his mane and tail almost whiter than the snow. With pain, came clarity.

"Luna's Night!" he cried plaintively, lifting his head to the heavens, as agony coursed through his frame. "What have they done to me? I… I have to get to shelter! I have to get out of this cold!"

Breath steaming in the cold, freezing into ice on his muzzle almost before it passed his lips, Chip forced himself to move, forced himself to warm up. If he'd been a pony, he'd be dead. He'd have keeled over from hunger already if it hadn't been for the banked embers of his flame that even now flickered, deep inside. As it was, he was awfully thirsty and his belly ached for something to fill it. A quiet, worried part of his mind asked what happened to a dragon when his fire went out. Chip didn't want to know. Snatching mouthfuls of snow as he berated himself for being so stupid, Chip thought about what to do.

Chip glanced around, thoughtfully. Mountainous terrain surround him on three sides, and the fourth avenue led downwards, an unimpeded trek to the treeline. There was only two directions he could go then, in reality: up, or down. Flight wasn't something he felt capable of. If he could get into the air at all, he thought mirthlessly, there was no guarantee he wouldn't just pass out. He nosed at his frost-coated wings gently, as if apologizing to them - should he fall from the skies, it would be game over. No, he was ground-bound, at least until morning. If he saw morning. So! He could either travel up, into the mountains - and his draconic heritage ached to be amongst the icy peaks - or he could travel down, into the valley.

He chose down.

He knew, from his previous life in Stalliongrad, that the air in winter is colder than the snow. He also knew he had to get out of the snow as soon as possible - if possible. Right now he was some way above the treeline, but not so far he couldn't see it start. That might just save his life.

Charging down into the valley through the snow, finally getting warm enough to feel how cold he was, he started to see brush poking up out of the snowy expanse. A short time later, and he found that he was approaching a copse. The firs were little more than large, indistinct, white cones because the snow was so deep upon and around them, but they were firs. That was actually a good thing.

Wriggling and digging as carefully as possible, panting hard from the exertion, his pelt steaming in the cold, Chip forced his way through the packed snow into a relatively snug and sheltered crawlspace deep under the tree's branches. He wormed his way deeper and deeper until he found himself next to the trunk, swearing profusely at all the twigs and other detritus, twisting and turning about until he finally allowed himself to relax once he'd dug an almost snow-free burrow. Here it was still cold, but now he was in here, his body might just keep it warm enough to stop it from being completely deadly… now it would merely be almost deadly.

He would have to do something about that. The solution, when it came, was obvious. And more than a little nuts, considering.

"I have no idea if this is going to work, make things better, make it worse… or just set the forest on fire," murmured Chip to himself as he gathered a rough circle of stones towards the outer edge of his nest-like bower. "Then again, a cheerily blazing forest fire would definitely garner attention. So… win-win on that, I guess."

Snatching what branches as he dared to from the tree above him to both provide fuel and prevent his pyroclastic attempt from spreading too far - should it even succeed, he reminded himself, eying the sodden timber - Chip stacked the pieces of wood gathered together, took a careful breath, and spat a glob of liquid phlegm onto the pile. Blowing on it gently, he eventually got it to burst into flames. Jabbing a hoof up through the snow and coughing from the smoke until the air cleared, he formed a makeshift chimney. Gradually, the snap and crackle of burning twigs filled his ears and he started to actually feel warm. Hoping he really was as fireproof as he thought he was, Chip curled up and closed his eyes. Things would look better in the morning. And now… he might even see it.

Outside, in the dark and the cold under the stars, twinkling blue lights gathered around the dim, warm, flickering light of a campfire burning inexplicably under the snow. The pooka could wait. The pooka could always wait. Their prey rarely got far, not once they had been bewitched by the ghostlights. They hadn't finished feeding yet, and a meal was all the more delicious for their ripping of more than mere flesh from the bones.

♠♣♥♦

Author's Note

And once again, I thank my wonderful, wonderful editors. I may have skipped giving a couple of ponies their goes, but this chapter would definitely, definitely not be anywhere near as amazing as it would be without the one and only MaskedFerret (who has so many good ideas to improve scenes he should be co-writer), along with Caliaponia and Nyerguds. Go heap praise upon them!

Oh, and Fang was there too.

The Halls of the Ice King

♠♣♥♦ King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
════════════════════

Chapter 27
The Halls of the Ice King
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

♠♣♥♦

The wind howled like a pack of demons, driving the snow into their faces like a thousand tiny knives. It was as if the wintry assault was enchanted, somehow charmed to find every loose fold and flap. By the odd, reverberating whinnies that floated on the wind, it was more than likely.

"Stay close, children," huffed Nyyrik as he forged through the deepening snow, one wing holding his ratty cloak above his head whilst a claw held his staff aloft against the night. It glowed with a silvern intensity that pierced the shadows and reflected off a myriad flakes of snow. "I don't want to lose any more of you." He shuffled awkwardly on three limbs, casting his gaze all around, looking for trouble, as he broke the trail through the drifts.

"I'd be hard-pressed to lose you, old timer. I can smell you even through the frostbite," hissed Carmine, shuddering and fluffing her neck feathers out in disgust. She turned her head, snorting as if trying to clear a blockage.

"Humph. I risk life and wing to rescue them, and instead of gratitude and thanks, I get demands for unwanted ablutions!" Nyyrik stopped to turn and glare, then turned back and began stomping through the snow again, mumbling to himself and gesticulating wildly into the darkness with his staff, the light and shadows dancing around him. "Ceaseless entreaties to wash! And spoil my body's natural oils? Now I remember why I spend so little time in so-called 'civilized company' – so many demands! I think I prefer the tundra."

"You live out here?" hissed Penny, cocking her head as she half leaped and half stumbled awkwardly in his wake through the deep snow, wings half spread. The pegasus was covered in ice and snow, her usually copper coat drenched in white – though with only Bella's sputtering horn-light and Nyyrik's staff to illuminate their surroundings, she appeared more grey, almost as ghost-like as the pooka.

"In a way," replied Nyyrik, emitting a squawking chuckle as he paused for a moment to catch his breath, turning to grin at the pegasus. "The alternative is to live in the citadel. That sort of life's not for me, though I do go back when circumstances demand it." Nyyrik took a swig from his hip-flask, then swore. Turning it upside down, he growled. "And, of course, to get a refill." He tensed suddenly as the wind shifted, then sniffed. "Do you smell that?"

"No," hissed Carmine. "I don't think I'm going to smell anything else ever again, either."

Nyyrik swatted Carmine on the beak with one of his foreclaws, then plunged the butt of his staff into the snow. "Adnachiel fill my senses," the old buzzard mumbled, as he hunched over his staff. His tufted ear-buds flicked about for a few seconds, and then he let loose a loud, piercing cry before lifting his staff out of the snow to point it back the way it came. "Aciel! Burn them! Incendium!"

A bright flare of flame spat from the end of his staff and loosed itself back the way the small group had come, the youngsters diving out of its way with varying cries of surprise and dismay. Its brightness was swiftly swallowed by the storm, but the anguished roar of some unearthly creatures soon floated back. Penny, last in the quintet, shied away from the mournful tones in horror, whinnying in panic as she sought to get closer to the group. Bethany briefly put a reassuring claw on the scared pegasus' withers, then moved behind to guard the rear.

"Pooka?" asked Penny, her voice nervous and loud. She rustling her wings anxiously as she drew closer to Nyyrik, shedding snow and would-be icicles in a miniature drift around her withers.

Nyyrik shook his head slowly, and gestured for Carmine and Bella to move past him. The unicorn's hornlight wavered with fear, but brightened as he gave her a reassuring smile. He drew alongside Penny, then began walking with her as he addressed the panicked mare.

"Rockbears, my girl. Related through blood and ancient sorcery to the ursa major, though more… base than their celestial cousins. I do wonder why they're awake." the old buzzard sniffed again, though this time merely as he pondered. "I suspect foul play. There's good news and bad news," he added, shouldering his way back through the group slowly before stopping and turning to address them all.

"What's the bad news?" asked Carmine, her crest rising in nervousness as a distant chorus of roars rent the air.

"They know where we are," grumbled Nyyrik, motioning behind them into the dark. He planted his staff into the snow and leaned on it, the group watching unsurely and swapping glances with each other as he muttered under his breath.

"Then what's the good news?" called out Bethany, looking over her shoulders before leaping forwards to stand before the tired old mage.

"I know where we are too," said Nyyrik, a calm resolve settling over his features. "You must trust me, children. You must trust me, stay with me, and do as I say. If I lose you to the Iceveldt, then come summer when we find your remains, there will be little but bleached bones and feathers. Am I clear?"

"As crystal," replied Carmine.

"Then move. I shall catch up."

Hesitantly, Bella led the way, her horn spitting and flaring with magelight as she and the others started moving again, forcing tired limbs through the snow. The exertion was taxing on all of them, and their movements were slow and sluggish… but move they did, gaining new appreciation for their eccentric guide. The path, what there was of it, was becoming clearer now; the snow was growing shallower, with hints of tracks that were visible – if barely – in Bella's flickering horn-light. It weaved from landmark to landmark – rocks mostly, boulders large enough to remain visible, scoured clear of snow by the wind – as it wound its slow but steady way through the mountain range.

Bethany, on a whim, paused to listen, her other senses peeled. There was a minute surge of power from behind her, and Nyyrik seemed to slump. Bethany warbled in dismay as the light briefly faded from his eyes, but he swiftly gathered himself and straightened. He scowled at her when he noticed her gaze.

"I thought I told you to keep moving?" he grumbled, stalking huffily towards her.

"C-can I help, Master Nyyrik?" she asked fearfully. He chuckled and shook his head.

"My girl, I sense you have the gift, but not the training or the skill. Yet," he added, grinning. Then he pointed to the ground with a claw where he had just been standing, "I've left a little present for our friends out there. Have no fear for my well-being, lass, I am far from finished. There's life in these old bones yet, and I plan to keep it that way. Now hurry, move!"

The tatty griffon spread his wings and leaped ahead, catching up to the group, urging Bethany and her friends onwards. Exchanging worried, scared looks with each other, the four wearily forged ahead.

As the night wore on, the storm began to ease. Every so often the sounds of detonations would drift on the wind, followed by roars from the rockbears, as Nyyrik's 'presents' were discovered. It seemed to make the creatures angrier rather than act to deter them, and more than once the youngsters exchanged baffled looks with each other.

The creatures were leisurely stalking their prey. This was no fruitless mad dash, this was a prolonged harrying which would carry on for hours or even days, until one side or the other dropped from exhaustion. Nyyrik had the group pace themselves, and every so often would loose a fireball, far into the night, then urge the youngsters onwards. In the flickering magelight, his growing grin was mischievous, almost frightening.

"Are you sure you know," muttered Bella darkly, turning her head after one such exchange, "what you're doing?"

"Of course. We're almost there. This way!" Nyyrik urged them onwards, gesticulating roughly with his staff. He turned to face the darkness behind them once again as the roaring increased in volume somewhere back down their trail. Raising himself up on his hind legs as the four girls fled at the frightful sounds, he screeched a griffonic war-cry at their ferocious pursuers.

"No argument from me," said Carmine, stealing a look behind into the blackness. "Come on," she called to the others. "The dirty old bird has a plan, and it's probably better than dying out here in the cold."

"Your faith in me is touching," called Nyyrik over his shoulder from where he stood staring into the night. He smirked, then spat, coughing.

"And if anything of yours is touching anything of mine, you'll lose it," Carmine called back.

Nyyrik barked out laughing as he fell back down to all fours, wings still half-spread. "Spoken like a true warrior! Ah, if only I had the wings to woo one such as you," he said with a heavy sigh, turning and following.

"You try and you'll lose 'em," huffed Carmine, scowling as she felt his gaze roving over her body.

"Our courtship will have to wait, my dear," called Nyyrik, catching up. "My only wish is that by my prowess in battle I am able to prove my worthiness to be your consort." He bowed, spreading his wings wide, then turned yet again to lower his staff and launch another barrage of fireballs downrange.

"She's spoken for," hissed Bethany, ducking and flexing her wings as another set of pain-wracked howls reverberated across the tundra.

"Ah, now I see! Only young love could turn your gaze from mine!" Nyyrik loosed yet another set of fireballs as the rest of the gang, mere feet ahead of him, continued their hastened trudging. The bears were nearer now, their roars more frequent and louder.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer," huffed Carmine, glaring at the snow as if her disapproval could melt it. Sadly, she too had to content herself with bounding, wings half-spread, from drift to drift.

Nyyrik gave another half-hearted, tired-sounding war-cry, this time tinged with mournful sadness. "Then all is lost," he bemoaned, once he'd fallen back to all fours to continue moving. "Loyalty to your one true love. That's how it starts, you know."

Carmine glared over her shoulder at Penny as the pegasus choked back a giggle. "Quiet, you," the griffin hissed. "What are you going on about, Nyyrik? And why in the name of the first egg are you still leading those rockbears our way!?"

"She has made her choice. And once again, Nyyrik is left high and, unfortunately, very, very dry," Nyyrik mumbled. He was wheezing now, and his fireballs – that he'd been firing regularly – were flickering and erratic in their motions. Now more often than not, they were striking the trees that were rapidly forming a part of the scenery. The trail had snaked down below the tree-line, and was now skirting a forest.

"Yes, yes, that's all well and good," shouted Carmine, "but we're about to be eaten by rockbears, whatever they are! If you have a plan, now would be a good time to put it into motion!"

The rockbears roared again; the noise had grown much louder, and it had changed – the creatures were closing in, and they knew it. With the shelter of the trees, however, the snow was somewhat shallower. Luckily, the rambling trail had become an actual path, clear of debris, and the pace of the group – that had been flagging – improved as they turned into the forest proper. The starry sky above them, which had been infrequently visible through the steadily lessening clouds, disappeared beneath the canopy. Bella and Penny glanced about nervously – forests meant new dangers, like timberwolves and burrowing wyrms – but with a clear and present danger behind, there was little choice.

"The clearing just up ahead," shouted Nyyrik suddenly, gesturing. "Stand in the exact middle of it." Nyyrik was hunched over, waving a wing towards the area that was just visible at the very limit of his staff's wan magelight.

"A clearing? Your plan is for us to pretend to be an hors d'oeuvre?" Bethany stopped at the edge of the clearing for a moment, and glared at back Nyyrik before she stumbled onwards into bright moonlight and once-more deep snow. The storm had lifted, the clouds had parted, and the stars above shone with a fierce intensity. It was also cold, and her breath steamed, ice forming on her beak.

"Indeed. Try to look tasty," he called. Swearing under his breath, Nyyrik waited until the last of his charges had reluctantly moved to the centre of the clearing, then followed after them. Once past the perimeter, he headed around the group rather than inwards, digging the butt of his staff into the snow as he began to draw a largish circle. "And don't stand on my runes."

"Whatever you're doing, do it quicker!" hissed Bethany. She ruffled her feathers and hopped from foreclaw to foreclaw, clenching them in the snow as she readied for battle, eyes scanning the treeline.

"The finest mages of a century ago would take three days just to draw the primary locus. The greatest among us once spent his entire life planning but a single, solitary, great incantation. But me? I make do with what I have." Nyyrik straightened, nodded to himself a couple of times, then moved and struck his staff deep into the ground in the exact centre of his protective circle. He closed his eyes as he started murmuring. For their part, the battle-hardened youngsters huddled closer together as enormous pawsteps thumped louder and louder, closer and closer, shaking the ground.

"Now would be a good time," suggested Penny, shivering. She'd have liked to pretend it was because of the clearing skies and falling temperature, but it wasn't. "You know, if you're ready."

"Now is a good time," agreed Nyyrik, and in one smooth motion, he lifted the staff out of the snow and held it above his head. "Master Och! Suffuse me!" he cried, then reared back on his hind legs, spread his wings and uttered a reverberating battle-cry that rolled out into the blackness, stunning everybody into silence.

For a few brief moments nothing happened, but then, with gunshot-like cracks, the trees at the edge of the clearing were all but shattered as enormous, multi-fanged, grey, bear-like beasts shouldered their way into the far side. Their hide glowed dimly, as if the memory of stars moved in mottled dance beneath their fur. Their eyes were large and expressive, exuding a shrewd, violent intellect, and nothing even approaching mercy. At the beasts' approach, Nyyrik's crude yet effective magic circle burst into blue flames. The beasts howled and roared at being denied their prey, throwing themselves against the magical barrier again and again, but were violently repulsed each time in showers of sparks.

"This isn't a plan, Nyyrik!" shouted Carmine. She ruffled her feathers and reflexively clenched her claws. Breathing hard, every instinct told her to scream and leap, to sink her beak and claws into her enemies, and kill them or die trying. Behind the barrier, she did not feel safe, she felt trapped.

"At ease, young hen. We have this under control."

"'We'?"hissed Bethany. Her feathers, too, stood on end, and she trembled with suppressed action.

"We," stated Nyyrik softly. Straightening, he raised his voice. "Now, my brethren! Make your stand! For our king and our nation!" His cry was answered by at least a dozen others as griffons suddenly rained down from the trees or burst from beneath the snow, shedding ice from their feathers in an explosive blizzard. They showed neither fear nor hesitation as they engaged the gigantic beasts. With arbalest, pike and greatsword, the griffons fell upon the rockbears, moving in a deadly dance rehearsed through years of training and drills.

The rockbears' joyous howls of hunting swiftly turned to roars of anger and pain as pike-wielding griffons separated and herded them into precise kill zones. Greatsword-bearing griffons from the patrol swooped down from above, slashing against exposed tendons and joints, fighting in close quarters, whilst the patient arbalest-toting archers picked at them with swift, deadly bolts.

"Wingsecond Arak! To me!" called one griffon as he squared off against the largest of the rock bears.

"Knight Captain!" replied Arak, moving to join the first. Together, the pair brandished their swords and advanced on a cornered rockbear, alternatively drawing the creature out and then slicing at it, opening deep welts that bled a thick, white fluid.

"Wrynn! Behind you!" cried a third, as she dove overhead, flaring her wings for a direct claw and paw attack that left her captain's beast blinded. Knight-Captain Wrynn and his Wingsecond Arak turned and, as one, sliced off half the muzzle and one lunging forepaw of a beast that had flanked them. Moments later, and a screeching winged demon plunged her twin bastard swords into the bear's chest. Its fearsome howl died on its lips as more white, glowing blood burst from its muzzle.

"Wingfirst Teaghan, consider yourself reprimanded for interrupting your Captain's hunting," chuckled Arak, wiping his own blade off on a dead rockbear.

"So long as I am commended for my swift bravery and decisive action in saving my captain's life, I think I can live with myself, Wingsecond Arak." replied the griffoness as she pulled both her swords out of the still-twitching corpse beneath her, smirking.

"I'll call it even, then."

"Spoilsport."

"Coo later, lovebirds," grunted Wrynn. "Right now we have a job to do."

"Sir!" came the joint reply, and quick as a flash the pair turned and headed straight for new targets. Wrynn himself barely dodged a sideswipe from a massive, club-like paw. He laughed it off as he hacked at the creature. It roared in pain before toppling, a shaggy mane of bolts having sprouted from its back. A quick, bone-crunching thrust from a dagger clutched tightly in Wrynn's claws ended its life.

Hissing and growling, Carmine and Bethany spun, glaring at the rock bears. They had tried to fight as soon as battle was joined, but Nyyrik's impenetrable shield worked both ways – for griffons as much as rockbears. The four youngsters were forced to impotently watch and wait as the newcomer griffons on the outside fought with deadly efficiency and skill. They gave no quarter, and did not hesitate in their grisly work. They dove, spun and twirled in effortless motion, using the shield to their full advantage. It was clear that dealing with the rockbear population was as close to a routine training exercise as could be.

The very much one-sided battle ended almost as soon as it began. It left three bears dead, one whimpering and heaving on the battlefield, bleeding out from a multitude of wounds, and several more fleeing for their lives back into the wilderness, trailing silvery rivulets of blood as they went. The last mortally wounded creature was dispatched with a single thrust of a blade into the back of its head.

"Always pick off the big ones," huffed Wrynn, wiping his blade off on the now-still corpse. "Helps keep the trouble-makers to a minimum. Well met, Nyyrik, old friend."

"Well met, Knight-Captain Wrynn," Nyyrik replied formally, slumping. He fell back onto his haunches into the blood-spattered snow, wings drooping listlessly. His magefire barrier faded, sizzling out and plunging the clearing into gloom. The old griffon sat there in the dim starlight for a few silent moments as the youngsters blinked in astonishment, before he raised one foreclaw. "And before I perform my next trick," he said breathlessly, "does anybody have something to drink?"

With a deep-throated chuckle, the eyepatch-wearing officer reached into his own cloak and extracted a small flask, which he handed over to Nyyrik. Muttering a few thanks under his breath to the Knight-Captain Errant, the scruffy old bird unscrewed the top and took a long, long swig before he handed it back – empty.

"May I present to you," Nyyrik said hoarsely, wincing and beating his chest from the burn as he stood up onto all fours and gestured with a wing, "King Varden's Finest, the thirty-seventh reconnaissance wing of the Wintry Kingdom?"

♠♣♥♦

A fire crackled brightly in the middle of the clearing, and the youngsters all huddled gratefully around it. Carmine and Bethany were pecking at some barely-cooked rockbear flesh, whilst Penny and Bella chewed methodically on blocks of compressed field-rations. All four looked much refreshed. Nyyrik, too, held himself a little straighter. The dirty bird was even attacking a haunch of roast rockbear, wiping his face off with his already-filthy cloak. Smacking his beak, he exhaled happily and burped. Turning to the youngsters, he leaned forwards expectantly.

"And now, If we are all somewhat fortified, perhaps you four can do me the favour of explaining just who you are and where you found a warship sporting griffonic thaumology?"

"Indeed," Captain Wrynn added, "are we really to believe that four fledglings are on a great hunt across the nine realms with your… friends, the dragon and the troll? Forgive me, but it seems…" The red-hued, eyepatch-wearing griffon waved a foreclaw in circles, "a little far-fetched?"

"Then what do you think we're doing all the way out here in the arse end of nowhere?" growled Carmine. She fluffed out her feathers huffily and scowled.

Wrynn snorted. "I must admit, your tale strikes me as so far fetched that I am inclined to believe it. But it doesn't answer the question of where you stole the ship from. You certainly didn't build it yourselves. My scouts tell me the fires are out, and despite the heavy landing it is… salvageable."

"We..." Bethany began, as she exchanged glances with Carmine and the two ponies. Penny shook her head, but Bella shrugged and nodded, as did Bethany. "We kind of… borrowed it."

"I see. And how did you pilot such a ship?"

"Chip did it. The, er, dragon. He…" She gestured with one claw, twirling it in the air in confusion. "He made it go," explained Carmine.

"Its engines are based on griffon thaumatology," said Bethany, grinning as she gently forced Carmine's claws down. Her voice was level as she looked at the griffons that sat around the fire one after another. "The spells Chip used on it were developed by a unicorn, centuries ago. And refined by his father, Sharptooth. The unicorn's name was Bevel—"

"Bevelmiter," said Wrynn, cocking his head at the astonished pair of griffons as he looked up from his sword. He grinned, then idly continued polishing his weapon with a whetstone. "Don't look so shocked, my lady. I may be a warrior at heart, but my teacher was no less strict about fighting with words than my sword."

"Though I do recall having trouble persuading you to read all that I assigned to you," said Nyyrik, clicking his beak and chuckling.

"Bevelmiter. As I live and breathe," mused Korin, a griffon who had been introduced as one of Wrynn's paladin-scouts, a tawny and gold lion-tailed griffon, larger than Wrynn but not as sharp-edged. "One of the few unicorns to not only take an interest in our ways but to master them. Whatever happened to him?"

"I-I… there was a book th-that Chip had," Bella stated hesitantly. She cast her head about, looking from her friends to the griffons and back. When Bethany gestured to carry on, the unicorn turned again to Wrynn and continued talking. "It smelled strange. I wouldn't like to hazard a guess. When we find Chip, we can ask him."

"You say that as if you suspect foul play. Believe me, young lady," Wrynn sheathed his sword in a long scabbard that rested atop his wings along his back, "if half the stories about Bevelmiter are true, then there are very few creatures in this world that could have bettered him, even on an off day. He could give a dragon pause for thought, and the Egg knows dragons are… tricky, even for griffons."

"That's why we're going to get Chip back. He's… not like other dragons," said Carmine, cautiously, sharing a glance with Bethany and the others.

"Dragons aren't like other dragons," laughed Wrynn, to answering chuckles all around. "But in your case, I believe you. We spied no dragon-tracks, the armour he left behind is small – though draconic – and smells of pony as much as dragon. And not as many things are on fire as I would expect." Wrynn paused, then clicked his beak and chuckled. Rolling his eyes, he added, "That last statement was a joke, you are permitted to laugh, despite it being blatantly obvious you have yet to tell me everything."

Bella's ears did prick up, but soon drifted back down again. "I'm cold," the unicorn stated suddenly. "We're all cold and tired. And I'm worried sick about Chip and Ruff." The unicorn's words were joined by murmurs and mumbles of agreement from her friends. They were all flagging, despite or maybe because of the first real food they'd had all day. Penny in particular was fit to drop; her pegasus metabolism had exhausted her reserves, and her entire body drooped, wings and all. Taking pity of her, Wrynn motioned to one of his wing's members to arrange a blanket for her. She sunk into it gratefully, fighting to keep her eyes open.

"Well then," said Wrynn after a few moments deliberation, "if you have no more vargash'iin to invite to dinner, then perhaps Master Nyyrik could take us home? The king must hear of this at once, and we are many days travel from The Wintry. And at least one of your number cannot fly."

"I was afraid you'd say that," grumbled Nyyrik, spitting out the thigh-bone he'd been gnawing on for the last half hour. "I'll get you home, but you owe me."

"Another batch is just about done brewing."

"You know me so well." Nyyrik heaved himself to his paws. Despite the rest, the old buzzard looked more haggard than ever. Even though his prowess with the magical arts was obviously great, it was clear the evening's trials had drained him.

"And the wenches have likely forgotten about your last misdeeds by now. And if the wenches haven't, the heifers probably have." Wrynn ducked as Nyyrik threw the remains of his meal at the laughing griffon.

"You wound me, youngster," Nyyrik huffed. "Long have I sought a fair maiden worthy of my abilities and considerate of my temper."

"Often, too," cackled Wingfirst Teaghan, flicking her tail-feathers at the dirty bird and shaking her hips.

"Hush. Not for just any young set of haunches and a pretty tail will this old buzzard clip his wings." Nyyrik began to draw once more in the snow with his staff as he spoke; this time the design was but a simple circle and a few careful sigils. "Gather, now. I am tired and old. I would have all of you in one piece at the other end, and not be missing any tails, wings or limbs."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" whispered Carmine, crest rising once more as the group pulled in tighter, various members of the wing taking up defensive stations around the core.

Wrynn grinned as he leaned in conspiratorially towards Carmine, flicking his little ear-tufts in mirth. "For all his words, old master Nyyrik is the finest mage on both sides of the Crystal Mountains. Only once have I seen a failed transport, and that was quite deliberate."

Carmine swallowed, heavily. "What happened?"

"Let us just say one should never insult King Varden's virility and threaten to rape the queen or the rest of the royal brood."

Penny and Bella both recoiled, but Bethany nodded. "A capital offence in any event."

"I am not proud," huffed Nyyrik, scowling. "It was just in the eyes of our king, but there was no honour in it. Together, now! Keep together! Here we go!"

The magical forces which had been building slowly but steadily peaked in a crescendo of sparks and fire. The snow that had previously lain about, dormant and silent, was whipped into the air, dancing in a frenzied cyclone as Nyyrik's spell was finally unleashed.

In a single, blinding, lurching moment, the world turned inside out and deposited the four youngsters, the mage and the dozen warrior-griffons in the centre of a great, marble-swept hall. The sudden silence was deafening, almost painful. It was broken by the brief pitter-patter of the last of the tundra's snow falling to the floor, where it swiftly melted.

Breathing heavily as she fought back nausea, Bethany frantically smoothed down her ruffled neck-feathers. "What was that!?"

Nyyrik looked surprised. "Translocation, girl. Relatively simple when you've done it regularly a few times."

"How far?" Bethany's voice was urgent, her voice hoarse. Carmine cocked her head at her friend's reaction. She and the two ponies were feeling sick too – though it didn't seem to have affected the rest of the wing – but Bethany seemed strangely intent.

"About fifty leagues or so, maybe a hundred." Nyyrik picked at his ragged wings with his beak, snapping up a few bugs as he dug them out, twisting his head to and fro. "I'm not quite sure. It's three days travel, ish, unless you wanted to kill yourself or sleep on the wing. Why?"

"That's… that's not…" Bethany staggered away from the tight group, wandering around the large hall she now found herself in. She muttered to herself about thaumic transit imbalances and dweomer matrix destabilization.

Nyyrik chuckled, though he nodded knowingly to himself as he watched her confusion. "I can't recommend it after a fight like that for most magii, my girl, but I've been around the eyrie a few times. Be calm."

"If only you would develop enough self-respect to land in it, too, and take up your rightful duties," said a new, regal voice. The owner was a large, white-headed armoured griffon with piercing blue eyes. "Greetings. I was not aware the thirty-seventh wing was expected back so soon. I assume you have an explanation? Knight-Captain Wrynn?"

"Grand Knight Taran, Sir," replied Wrynn, bowing down and spreading his wings perfunctorily before standing upright once more. He then gestured to Carmine, Beth and the two ponies. "These four youngsters arrived in an airship with two other of their friends, over the Crystal Mountains near Windigo Peak. The ship crashed, but it is of Equestrian origin and has sustained only minimal damage to the superstructure and should be repairable… should such action be deemed necessary and proper, of course."

"An airship? How remarkable." Taran approached boldly, eyeing the newcomers sternly.

"Sir. It was…" Wrynn turned and raised an eyeridge at Carmine before turning back to the newcomer. "It was borrowed. According to these youngsters, it was empowered and piloted by one of their friends, a dragon, using ancient griffonic magics."

"A dragon, eh? I dare say it can be dealt with—" Taran lifted a talon to signal to one of the many guards stationed around the hall, but was swiftly interrupted.

"No! You won't hurt our friends!" blurted Penny, leaping forwards despite her exhaustion. She was quickly but gently restrained by one of the warrior griffons surrounding her. Taran turned to face the pegasus, coolly adjusting his wings.

"My young filly, if a dragon is loose amongst the wilds of the Crystal Mountains, and it refuses to cooperate with my king or seeks to claim territory, then it will be put down."

"He doesn't want territory, he's with us! He's looking for the same thing we are!" shouted Penny desperately, the whites of her eyes showing. She threw herself against her gentle captors, but slumped, almost falling, in despair and exhaustion. Korin helped her up, inclining his head with compassion as he supported her.

"Which is?" Taran stood tall, proud and haughty.

Bethany hissed at Penny to be silent, then turned and addressed the Grand Knight directly. "Sir, that is for the King's ears alone."

"You dare speak to me—?" Grand Knight Taran's feathers fluffed up in an indignat ruff. His voice was calm and dangerous.

"We request Parley," interrupted Bethany, just as calmly. She straightened, fluffing up her neck-feathers similarly. "An audience, with the king. Carmine Wildfeather, First Born of the Elder of the Wildfeather Clan demands her due."

"I do?" whispered a shocked Carmine. Her ear-tufts twitched in confusion as her crest rose. Bella's ears pricked up and even Penny turned, in the gentle but firm grip of two griffons from Wrynn's Wing, to stare.

"Yes! Trust me!" hissed Bethany back. She turned to the newcomer and looked him straight in the eyes. "We have fought dragons and diamond dogs. We have braved fire and flood and I claim by right of passage the station of Paladin, and my liege-lady that of knight-protector, of Tacksworn."

Taran's neck feathers fluffed up so much that they almost blinded him. "I refuse to hear any more of such nonsense!" He snorted, then gestured to Wrynn dismissively, "Take them away, confine them to quarters until morning, when I shall decide what is to become of them!" Taran spun, and stalked off. Wrynn and his squad had been dismissed.

"But—!" began Bethany, reaching a claw for the Grand Knight as he exited through one of the many doors out of the hall. She was swiftly silenced by Nyyrik's claw on her shoulders. The old griffon mage had stalked up silently and was brimming with quiet confidence.

"Lass, learn to pick your battles. The Sword of the King is as short on brains as he is of temper," the old buzzard whispered. "The Wand, however, thinks deeper thoughts."

"And you'd be the wand, I suppose?" Carmine asked quietly.

"By the First Egg, no! Me? Dress up in such frippery and ponce about all self-important? Bathe?" Nyyrik seemed positively aghast by the idea, pulling his ratty, moth-eaten and incredibly ripe cloak about himself in horror. "I'd rather be banished. But I am his counsel. I taught him everything he knows," the old bird grinned wryly, "and one of those things is to notice when things require a closer look." Nyyrik strode between Bethany and Taran, spreading his wings placatingly. "Come, it has been a long night. In truth, it is almost the next day, and you all require rest. True rest. Antigan, Garat, see my charges to suitable accommodations near one another. Have guards posted outside their doors to see they are not disturbed and to see to any needs they may have. They are to be otherwise unmolested. Am I making myself clear?"

The two griffons turned to Wrynn, who nodded. They turned back to Nyyrik, bowing before him.

"Y-yes Nyyrik, sir," said one of the two named griffons, a tawny fellow with a hawk's tail.

"At once sir," replied the other, a jet black and maroon-hued smaller griffon with white socks around his rear paws.

"Good. Then I bid you adieu."

"What are you going to do?" called Bella after the retreating griffon, as he threw his cloak behind himself and began to stalk off.

"First I'm going to get a drink," he called, over his shoulder. "Then I'm going to get a wench. And then when I'm done with both of them, I'm going to see Lord Kem, Wand of the King."

"See that you do," rumbled Captain Wrynn disapprovingly, though his beak turned up at the edges in a wry smile. "Or I'll pluck you bald and give you that flea dip you so sorely need!"

"A change of heart in favour of our young adventurers?" mused Nyyrik, his voice distant with mocking laughter as he disappeared through another door.

"Nay, but anybody who can stand up to that pompous windbag Taran is okay in my book." He grinned at Bethany, who blushed, her neck-feathers rising sharply. "Come, the dirty old buzzard speaks the truth. It is time for rest. Welcome to the Wintry, children. Walk this way."

♠♣♥♦

Ruff awoke. He was cramped, it was dark and he sorely needed to relieve himself… but he was alive. He was thirsty and hungry, too. The former would be easy to deal with, he rationalized, just as soon as he was up and about. He swiftly dug himself out of his holt and emerged into painfully bright sunlight and crisp, cool, mountain air. Snatching a mouthful of snow, chewing and swallowing hastily against the shocking cold, he decided he would see first to the call of nature and then deal with his body's need for food. Retreating behind one of the few bushes that poked above the blanket of snow, he did his business then buried the waste under the frozen ground before kicking his hind claws clean in the snow. Taking a few short leaps, he scooped up more fresh, clean snow directly into his muzzle and, shuddering and drawing another deep breath against the sudden bite of the icy material, chewed and swallowed. Cold, but serviceable.

It was several more hours before he found a reindeer, had verified that it wasn't able to talk and was therefore viable prey, and then had taken it out in a swift, deadly strike from a thin spar of lithomanced rock. Raw meat wasn't something he was overly familiar with, but he was a diamond dog. Blooding, gutting and skinning his kill was relatively easy, especially with his new skills of lithomancy to fashion some stone blades with.

Speaking of tools… Digging a nearby half-buried treetrunk out of the snow, Ruff tore off a thick branch, ran a claw along it until the bark was stripped, then used said bark to tie a flat, pear-shaped rock blade to one end. It was a crude staff, but sturdy. It would do. Growling to himself in Trollish, Ruff tore off a hind leg from his kill, then buried the rest deep under the snow, far from where he had gutted it. He had no idea how long he was going to be out here, he reasoned, and hunger would be a constant companion, not to mention the ever-present threat of freezing to death. That meant he would need the animal's pelt, too, and preferably something to cure it with… either that, or put up with the smell and hope it cured itself. Maybe he could find a river, find some salt or agreeable rock substitute, build a fire, blend the animal's brains… Ruff stretched. He was a diamond dog. He would make do.

♠♣♥♦

Chip awoke with a start. He hurt all over, he was cold, and the fire had gone out hours ago. Desperately huffing and puffing, he managed to spit out a tiny wad of molten magma-phlegm. It was enough to rekindle a small blaze, but whatever dragonfire he still held within was not enough to chase the chill away completely. Slowly he started to feel a little warmer on the outside, but still… he feared for the inside.

He shook himself vigorously when he finally crawled out from under the tree. The sunlight was so bright it hurt his eyes, and his mouth was painfully dry, but he was indeed alive. It looked like he had a chance of staying that way.

He took a few mouthfuls of snow, wincing at the cold, then staggered further downhill in search of anything green and edible. The rocks smelled… wrong, unappetizing, too full of dirt. Reluctantly he scraped his teeth on misshapen tree trunks, finding scant nourishment in the brief mouthfulls of moss, but grateful for it all the same. Slumping against a recently-denuded tree, Chip found himself breathing hard as he choked back a sudden explosion of tears. He felt so alone.

"What in Tartarus happened last night?" he moaned, as he finally collected himself. "Lights, voices… urgh, so confused. What in Equestria am I supposed to do now?" He was too tired and hungry for flight, and looking at his half-frozen wings, covered in pine needles and dirt, he wasn't sure they would hold up to use without maintenance in any event. He stretched them experimentally; they felt heavy and sluggish, and moved poorly. "Okay then, first things first: find food and shelter. Then try to work out where I am, and where I should be."

"Well-met, friend" said a new voice. Chip whirled, reflexively spreading his wings. They drooped as if injured, and he hissed, favouring them. The newcomer was a largish equine, more a horse than a pony, with white fur and a long, flowing, golden mane and tail.

"Who… where did you come from?" Chip growled low, taking a backwards step.

"I and my kin live here, amongst the trees." The creature's voice was calm and level, even friendly. "You are welcome here, friend. Come! I am sure my herd will accept you, should you wish it."

Chip blinked, sniffing experimentally. "Is it… close?"

The creature nodded. "Very."

"Do you have… food?"

"You will not go hungry."

"Then…" Chip turned, back the way he had come. Probably. It was all starting to look the same wherever he turned, and even if he got back up into the mountains, he wasn't sure he'd be able to find his way home. Recuperate first, then worry about the others – they'd be surely doing the same. "Then lead the way."

Chip followed, stumbling in exhaustion, as his companion picked his way daintily through the snow. The horse moved easily, passing between the branches like a shadow, whilst Chip plowed along behind it, finding it a lot harder to make headway.

As the sun rose higher, the burgeoning forest swallowed them both up.

♠♣♥♦

Carmine awoke. For a few brief, heavenly seconds, all was at peace. She was ensconced in a snug, wide nest lined with the warmest, softest of down whilst muted, soothing sunlight played across her wings and back. Distantly, she heard the sound of birdsong, sweet and carefree.

Paradoxically, it was the birdsong that reminded her of the snow and ice, and of their lonely, lost predicament. This, in turn, led to a brief flare up of confusion as she tried to remember just how and why it was that she – and presumably her friends – were not freezing themselves to death in some desperate arctic wasteland.

Griffons, a search party, a disgusting and lecherous – yet solid and trustworthy – mage, and fearsome ursine monsters.

Oh.

And Chip was still out there, hopefully with Ruff, whilst she was inside, in the warm. It didn't feel right.

Stretching, Carmine eased herself from her bed, fluffing up her feathers for extra warmth as she surveyed her surroundings: the ceiling was high and vaulted, carved seemingly directly from the rock. It was patched here and there with some sort of cement and painted with muted yet refined colours. An ornately decorated dressing screen stood against one wall. She strode over to it curiously and reached out a foreclaw for the airy, semi-opaque veil and flowing train that were hanging in the shadows on the other side.

"They belong to one of the the maids in waiting, Lady Carmine," called the voice of Knight Captain Wrynn as he gently closed the door. "Handmaiden to Princess Becca, in fact."

Carmine whirled, stepping backwards. Her leonine tail lashed nervously. "I was just—"

"With her blessings, My Lady," urged Wrynn, the corners of his beak turning up. "It was she who demanded you take her room."

"I… it's not right."

"Lady Carmine, quite apart from the fact you outrank her, you are a guest. What is ours, is yours. Within reason, and should you feel the call of the Juliet cap, far be it from me to stop you."

Carmine sighed, then dropped her foreclaw. "There is one I would wear it for, Captain Wrynn, Sir, but he is not here to receive me in it." Carmine spoke carefully, with none of her customary flippancy. "A-and truth be told, my parents and his are the instigators."

"You travel far from your betrothed—"

"Not betrothed," Carmine interrupted, clearing her throat. "And not that far. He is… or was, with us."

"The troll?"

Carmine barked out in brash laughter. "No. Ruff is sweet, and strong, quick of mind and big of heart, but he is not my fiance. I'm talking about Chip, the... dragon."

To his credit, Wrynn's neck-feathers barely flickered. "You hesitate, yet I declare you speak the truth of your heart. I sense there is much you need explain. Come, join us as we break our fast before the king. Speak the truth, the whole truth, without hesitation, and fein will you be heard and understood."

"Y-yes, sir," replied Carmine, bobbing her head. She took one last wistful look at the cap, then turned to follow Wrynn.

The rest of the girls were just filing in to the corridor that led to the great dining hall as Wrynn and Carmine reached the large, double doors. Subtly, with the effortless grace of the well-rehearsed, the quartet had been maneuvered into prime presentation order; Lady Carmine, First Born of the Tacksworn Elders. Lady Bethany Lionstuft, Field-Paladin of the Tacksworn Proctectorate. Bright Pinion, adjutant to Lady Carmine and finally, last but not least, Isabella Liriope, unicorn mage in training.

After the fanfare and the loud, booming introductions, all four found themselves in the middle of a huge, round table, standing before King Varden and a few select advisors, trying not to tremble.

"Greetings, fair maidens," intoned the king, inclining his head. "Forgive me for such rudeness as an interrogation before a meal, it is not the intent of the Wintry Kingdom to slight you."

"None taken—" began Carmine, though she was interrupted by a rumbling noise emanating from Penny. The king chuckled.

"This will be brief, dear children, I promise," said the queen, giving the king a pointed stare. "Then you will be fed. We let you sleep, and would have fed you in your quarters, but I hear tell this is important?"

"It is, your highness," replied Wrynn, inclining his head.

"Tell me, then," the king asked gently. "Tell me what it is you seek." He pecked at the haunch of some large animal held fast in his claws and watched the four like a hawk.

"Your highness, first of all, we beseech you, save our friends," begged Bethany. She lowered her gaze, staring at the ground. "Two of our group are still out there, in the snow," she added, voice almost a whisper.

"We have reason to believe they are both still alive," stated Wrynn, admiration plain on his features.

"They are!" exclaimed Penny. "I… I know they are."

Bella shouldered her way forwards. "They are. I'm… not much of a mage, but I would know if they were dead."

"The safety of your two friends," mused the king, narrowing his eyes. "I see. But go on, that is not all that brings you before me."

"We—" began Bethany. Carmine opened and closed her beak a couple of times, then put a claw on Bethany's wing.

"I got this, Beth. We'll tell the truth. Your highness," said Carmine, as she turned to the king, "we've come from a little town a long, long way away in the Southern reaches of Equestria called Tacksworn."

"It's so far south that it's almost not in Equestria, actually," added Penny, smiling nervously, before flicking her ears back against her head.

"Tacksworn…" The king rolled the unfamiliar word around in his beak. "I… know of it, I believe."

"You should," said Carmine. "We've come for the staff." She stood and silently waited whilst the king carefully kept his expression level. The king broke first, and he slowly put the leg of meat down with an audible thunk onto his plate. He worked his lower jaw in circles for a few moments, then fixed the youngsters with a new, appraising stare.

"I have always wondered when, or indeed if, the time would come when I would discharge that ancient oath that my father and his father, and their forefathers before them, took up. But you must understand, I cannot—"

"Sir, er, your highness, sir, umm…" Penny stepped forwards, bowing her head. "We really have come a long way for the diamond dog king's staff. We really need it."

"We have the first part – I have the first part – in my saddlebags," added Bella. "From the dragons. Quetzal… something… gave it to us. Chip could tell you more, but he's… somewhere out there—" Bella gestured with her horn to a window "—and we need to find him before it's too late. Because if we don't find him, then…" Bella paused, and then almost deflated. "W-we need to get the staff s-so the dragons don't get it. Dragon. A dragon. And her changelings and trolls."

As Bella fell silent, the king leaned back in his throne, tapping a claw on his beak thoughtfully. "Dragons are known for their subtlety, young ones, and their tact, but they are not known for such… flagrant displays of wanton trespass and senseless destruction. Not, at least, from those who have Returned." He studied the children silently for a moment. "My Lady," he asked, turning to his wife, the queen, "what say you?"

The queen, a regal silvern and tawny white griffoness, raised herself demurely to her hind paws and stepped easily onto and then over the dining table before bringing herself down to all fours, almost beak to muzzle in front of Bella. "Unicorn, attend me."

"Your highness?" Bella asked, taking a hesitant step forwards. She trembled as the queen grasped a hold of her horn with a single, huge and powerful foreclaw, before pushing down Bella's head to peer at it. The queen rasped her beak lightly over the unicorn's horn, tasting it, before she spat onto the cold, hard floor.

"I taste changelings. And trolls. And the blood of the summoned. This is no act. At the very least, these children have seen battle with many the griffon nation calls enemies, or at best but faint acquaintances. However, questions remain, my husband; are these children who they say they are, and are they worthy – should they even be found reliable enough – to take up the ancient staff of the khan?"

The king stood to help his wife as she stepped back over the table once more, kissing her foreclaw with a beak as she passed.

"The Queen's council is as wise as she is beautiful," the king stated, as he straightened. Then he turned back to the children. "It behooves us, then, to establish your bona fides. Tell us of this… aircraft. By all rights, the arrival of an Equestrian air-navy battleship – fully armed no less – is a presage of unrest, even war, even should its arrival be followed by a hard landing such as yours has sustained. But this airship, I am told, is no ordinary ship of the line. Whilst its construction is of the same high, recognizable standard of all Equestrian crafting, its motive force is not. The main engines, whilst familiar to my learned eyes, are enchanted with glyphs, runes and spells which are almost wholly alien – to both griffon and equestrian magics. So tell me, young ones, where did you find raw talent so ingenious and capable as to single-clawedly reinvent dweomeric motivators?"

Bethany shared a look with her other three friends, then took a step forwards. "Your highness, Chip is a pony that's been turned into a dragon. His dad, Sharptooth, has a book by Bevelmiter. Chip learned the magic and… fixed it. I don't know more than that. My father died before he could teach me."

At that moment, the griffon who had met them the previous night stood up violently. "This is ridiculous, your highness! These… these… these troublemakers – spies, for all we know! – arrive here with a quite frankly ridiculous sob-story and some suspiciously incomprehensible broken hardware and you believe them?"

"It's not broken! Our airship—! Your highness!" protested Bethany, forcing herself to step forwards, ignoring the angry, protective glares that turned her way. "Your highness, our ship is fully functional, it only crashed because Chip was… I think Chip was hurt from his battle in Leviathania. I-I mean it might be broken now, but it wasn't!"

"Nonsense, child," scoffed Taran. "It was a decoy, a bluff, nothing more. It cannot func—"

"It worked," growled Beth, snapping her beak authoritatively.

"My liege, it is the opinion of the Sword that these children are nothing of the sort, they are charlatans, or chattal, in league with those who would bring your house low—" Taran flared his wings, hurling insults as he gesticulated wildly in the four childrens' direction.

"Your majesty," said another voice, as an older, thinner, greying griffon stood up and moved to stand next to Taran, his pawsteps slow and methodical as he strode around the perimeter of the table. This griffon's voice was quieter, yet seemed to carry more weight. It cut through the heated tempers like a hot knife through butter. "Your majesty, may I question the youngster?"

Beth held her breath, and exchanged worried glances with both Carmine and Bella. Penny's gaze was locked on the ground, and she was breathing heavily. Bella comforted her as best she could, with short, reassuring nibbles on the mare's mane.

"You may, Wand." The king nodded, curtly.

"But—" began Taran. He was cut off with a brief glare from King Varden.

"Sword, hold your tongue lest I remove it. Your king commands it."

"Your highness," replied Taran, stiffly. He sat, and glowered.

"Now, Wand, ask."

The Wand of the King spread his wings, then leaped over the table, in defiance of his apparent age. He glided down to stand almost beak to beak with Bethany. "Tell me what you can, young warrior-mage, of this Chip's machining."

Bethany gulped. "I, uh… it's a mixture o-of dragon, unicorn… and griffon magic, Sir. Bevelmiter developed a runic system for unicorn magic. I-it's kind of similar to griffon runecrafting, but… the glyphs are different. Chip though… Chip didn't care. He made it work. He merged Unicorn and Griffon magic into Draconic thaumomancy, but… he did something… strange." The griffon fell silent. She shrunk back, away from the elder mage, looking around at Carmine.

"Tell me what he did, my child. I sense you know more still."

"It's okay, I think," said Carmine, nudging Bethany gently. "We should tell them. Everything. We need to trust them so they can trust us."

"O-okay, if you say so, Car." Bethany turned again to the old mage and looked him straight in the eyes. "I don't know exactly what Chip did, but I told him not to. He did it anyway, twice. He's a pony, on the outside, but… I saw him cast dragon magic. He made wings that he wears, on his back. They're powered by the same engines the ship has… and they work the same way; they're a part of him. He controls them. He makes the ship go. Without him, it won't fly. I think that's why it crashed. Sir."

Nodding, the griffon turned to face the king. "Your highness, I believe them. The reason we cannot deciper the runes in the children's craft is because they are indecipherable with griffonic knowledge alone. There is no subterfuge. Should it be a trick, then to precipitate this trick, needs must these children would still be recipients of an unknown magic – and to attempt such subterfuge thus would be folly beyond measure."

"What do the Shield and the Fist say?" asked the king, glancing meaningfully at Taran to continue being silent. Two more griffon nobles, seated further around the table, shared a glance. The younger, a female, cleared her throat.

"The Fist concurs with the Wand."

"As does The Shield," added the other.

"I see. Summon Nyyrik." The king slammed his fist down upon the table, then took a few more hefty bites of the haunch before he threw the bone over his shoulders for several large, wolverine-like creatures to fight over. "I would have preferred we had all eaten first, but I did at least stress that a bath last night would not go amiss. Mayhaps he took my advice. I just hope he washed himself with soap, not females, this time. Or flea dip." The king roared with laughter as a few of the nobles present shared knowing glances. Only Taran did not smile, but his scowl did soften a smidgen.

A few minutes later, a bedraggled – but thankfully less fragrant – Nyyrik bustled through the doors, contemptuously knocking aside both bugler and announcers. He headed straight for the table, took a large roasted wing of some enormous avian in one claw and yanked it from its socket before ripping off a few beakfuls and chewing heartily. After swallowing, he bowed low and subserviently to the king.

"Forgive me, your highness. I was… recuperating from the harsh patrol and rescue of last night. I am not quite myself, and do not think well on an empty stomach."

"Or a sober one," murmured the king. "Tell me, my old teacher: what do you make of these children?"

"They speak the truth. Two of their young companions are lost on the Iceveldt. That one is a troll is no doubt. I met him myself. The other, Chip, is an enigma. Tracks say Equestrian, scent says otherwise. They – we – were beset by the Pooka soon after their ship crashed. Their thaumic systems were live, powerful and potent, but… ill-controlled. They were not ready for the windigo, much less the pooka or the rockbears."

"I see. They seek the staff of the ancient high king, Nyyrik."

Nyyrik paused in his devouring of the wing held in one claw. Then he swallowed. "Oh. I would this had been discussed last night."

"Please!" blurted Penny, suddenly. She raised her head, looking from the king to Nyyrik. "Please, we'll do anything. We need to put the staff back together to save Equestria, because… because… Ch-Chip said it best. Whether we get the staff or not, the dr-dragon that is also after it will raise an army just by promising it to her packs of diamond dogs. She d-doesn't need the staff, but we do. We have to rescue our friends, they're still out there! We have to rescue them, then get the staff and then… and then… make sure she can never have it."

"What will you do with it?" asked Nyyrik, pointedly.

"I… we don't know." Penny's ears drooped.

"Foolishness!" snorted Lord Taran, exchanging glances with other like-minded nobles around the table. "Lies and foolishness."

"Foolishness maybe," said Nyyrik, "but the mare speaks the truth. She knows not what she would do with the artifact, but she earnestly believes that her only course of action is to seek it out. But I cannot let untrained children… I cannot let you, my king, give untrained children such an object. It would be folly most high."

"Hah!" crowed Lord Taran.

"...Which is why we will train them, first," said Nyyrik, as Taran choked on his own bluster. "My lord, your highness, whilst the Iceveldt is scoured for signs of their companions, we must train these four who are here. I will take the unicorn and the warrior-mage. I will take them to Urash and Galadra. Taran, you will be responsible—"

"I will do no such thing." Taran spat.

"I will then, your highness," said Captain Wrynn, stepping forwards, avoiding Taran's icy glare. "I have seen their… nascent prowess first claw. I will train them, and when they are ready I will present them to the Sword, the Fist and the Shield, and to you, my king."

Varden gazed regally around the table, nodding. Finally, he leaned back in his chair and gestured with a free claw. "So be it. The king has spoken. Wrynn, you will send out such search parties as you see fit. Alert the wings. Nyyrik, take them all to the kitchens, see they are fed, then begin their training. You are all dismissed."

♠♣♥♦

Author's Note

Ah, this one was so much trouble! When you're writing an interminably long slog through snow and ice, make sure you know where in the group all your characters are. It's hair-tearingly annoying when you need it to flow properly from beginning to end!

Once again I have to thank my editors, the amazing Caliaponia, Ferret, even though ferret doesn't list my story under "awesome stories she helps edit" (cri erry tiem, so betray, much sad, very forgot, wow) and the indomitable Nyerguds (who needs to acknowledge that ghouls are crunchy on the outside and smooth on the inside, like daim bars).

Worlds Beyond

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds

The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═════════════════════════════════════

Chapter 6
Worlds Beyond
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

Sharptooth stood before the black dragon's cave. It was, unsurprisingly for this part of Equestria, raining. His wings were tired, he was hungry and it was growing dark. He was also wet and cold, and very nervous.

For the first time, he had made the trip alone. He had sent no word ahead and he had not discussed his intentions, other than to tell his pony-mother where he was going. Now, standing outside the cave of a creature several times his weight, many times his strength and an unknown number of times his age, he wasn't sure if it had been such a good idea.

"I see the foal has learned the use of his own limbs," cried the thunderous voice of Onyxious from above him.

Sharptooth hissed in surprise, falling back. In the faltering light, the great wyrm had been almost invisible, perched as he was upon a ledge above his cave. With claws that could shred marble like the confetti the ponies made, the black dragon pulled himself down the mountain. He slithered across the intervening space to encircle the smaller green dragon.

"You have grown, little foal. I sense much change in you. Tell me, how fares your mother?"

Sharptooth spun and turned, keeping the great muzzle of the black dragon in view at all times. "She is well, though I wonder what she means to you."

Onyxious' eyes glinted in the faint light from far-off lightning bolts. The storm Sharptooth had flown through was catching up with him. "When you are more grown, you may understand. Tell me, why did you come here?"

"I can leave if my presence offends you, Onyxious. I merely came to satisfy my curiosity." Sharptooth scowled.

"Curiosity is a worthy cause, foal. I would welcome you to my home, if you would stay a while. I sense you have questions. I would answer them for you, if possible. Stay if you wish, you have come a long way to leave like a thief in the night."

"Do not impugn my honour, dragon."

Onyxious laughed, a deep belly-shaking roar that made the smaller green dragon fume angrily. "Little one, forgive me. Come up here, turn around. Tell me what you see."

With a questioning look on his muzzle, Sharptooth did as he was bid. Clambering up to the dragon's cave on all fours, claws digging into the scree, before hopping lithely to the ledge above it, he gazed back the way he had come. It was rapidly growing darker now and the clouds were rolling in, but he knew the scenery and could picture what he couldn't see almost perfectly. Before him stretched Equestria, the southern wilds. They were high in the mountain ranges, home to the hardier ponies, the odd dragon and a few prides of griffons. The tree-line ended a short ways down the trail. Below that were great swathes of grassland and, further off in the distance, little plumes of smoke from pony villages. Off in other mountain peaks flew the griffons, making their homes amongst the clouds, hunting from the cliffs. Sharptooth stood silently, contemplating.

"I see..." the green dragon hesitated, then continued. "I don't see many dragons.."

"I see your unique heritage has benefits, Sharptooth," Onyxious rumbled. "The pax equestrus has done two things for the ponies. Firstly, it has made any even semi-intelligent race think twice before harming a pony. Secondly, it has made ponies something of a cause for fascination amongst our kind."

"And that keeps dragons away?"

Onyxious grinned toothily. "We are a nation of creature-watchers, young foal. Were we to bring Leviathania closer, it would forever change the ponies."

"What do you mean? They have societies, they build, they learn and teach..."

"Look at them, though. Bright little creatures, strutting across their realm. They live such brief, complicated lives. They are everything we dragons are not. You and I, like all dragons, interact based on contracts and agreements - many of them unknown to you. You are party to them all the same, as they were made with your adopted parents. All dragons live thus; we have contracts for hunting rights, for mating rights, for business and for pleasure. The ponies, however, are not like that. The natural state of being for dragons is a single dragon. The natural state of being for ponies is a herd. Together, they build their world... and they would give all that they have away were it asked for by one truly in need."

"What does that have to do with me?" Sharptooth tilted his head.

"An accident, an experiment, a duty..." Onyxious wandered inside the cave. As he passed, his voice echoed back out to the confused Sharptooth. The smaller green dragon took it to mean he was supposed to follow.

"Am I just some game to you?" Sharptooth hurried to catch up, moving deeper into the home of the titanic black dragon.

"No, no. You must understand, though I fear you cannot. We dragons are creatures of war and ritual."

"War?"

"Wars of words, wars of numbers, wars of deeds. We ritualize such combat, and enshrine these deadly duels in our contracts and agreements. Thus does our civilization hang together on the will of every dragon to adhere to a mode of warfare which does the least amount of damage yet requires the maximum amount of effort."

The black dragon was moving deeper into his cave than ever before. Sharptooth followed him, almost running to keep up. He had expected obscure lessons, maybe even forbidden magic or ancient knowledge. He didn't understand what the other dragon wanted or meant, and it was confusing and strange beyond belief.

The cave was lit now with glowing fungus and scratched runes that looked almost as old as the rock itself. Stopping as the blackness intensified, Sharptooth found himself standing on the edge of an enormous sigil on the floor of the tunnel. It flickered and spat, with little bolts of what appeared to be lightning shooting from it. It hurt his eyes to look at it and made his flesh creep beneath his scales.

"You may cross, foal." The words were softly spoken, but they resonated like a thunderclap. All at once, the feelings of dread dissipated. Sharptooth found himself shaking. He knew where he was: this was Onyxious' hoard, the dragon's most sacred place. It felt almost sacrilegious for him to be there, as if he were walking upon the black dragon's open heart.

The cavern beyond the runic sigil was immense, and he couldn't see the ceiling. Braziers full of burning rocks lit the enclosed space and the air was tense and close. Shadows and reflections danced upon the walls and flickered across the myriad piles of belongings and memories. There were coins, weapons and skins. There was jewelry and precious gems, piles of scrolls, and tomes so old that Sharptooth could practically feel the weight of centuries oozing from between their leather-bound pages.

"I... don't think I understand. War? How can a civilization be built upon war? Wouldn't it be just death and destruction?"

Onyxious chuckled, though the sound was low and sad. "Any fool can kill. It takes a real master to bring his opponent to rack and ruin, and leave him alive to know it. It takes more skill than that to build up your enemy to be capable of the greatest of achievements, and to owe everything to you, and to thank you for it."

"Now I'm even more confused." Sharptooth said. "Are you saying I'm your enemy? Have you lured me here to kill me?"

"I've brought you here for one reason, little Sharptooth," Onyxious said as he produced two small chests. "I want you to unravel the meaning of these." One at a time, using his enormous ebony claws for purchase, he placed the objects carefully upon the smooth stone floor. The huge black dragon opened the two chests. One was full to the brim with broken eggshells, mottled and cracked. The other had but one eggshell within it, although this one was whole. Faint lines could be seen tracing a network of cracks, as if it had been shattered and then put back together. Sharptooth reached out a claw, reverently, but stopped short of actually touching them.

"These are... mine. I mean, that one in particular... is my egg. These are the others from the nest Mama told me about, but why?"

Onyxious snorted and flicked his tail derisively.

Sharptooth looked from the huge black dragon to the small chests and back again. He took a deep breath, and spoke a single word. "Love." Sharptooth held his breath as the larger dragon turned away. "It's love," he said again. "Dragons have to love. Love is a... a contract you make with yourself to benefit somebody else, without any expectation of recompense."

"I must be growing soft," Onyxious stated, turning away so he faced the dark reaches of the cave.

"Maybe, or maybe ponies are growing on you... maybe ponies are growing on dragons. I... love Shimmer Star. Somewhere out there, maybe there's a dragon who loves me too, the same way. I've never met her. I wonder what she looks like."

In a swift, predatory motion, the two chests were snatched up and Onyxious himself vanished into the furthest corners of the hoard. "I tire of your prattling, foal. Begone." His voice echoed ominously, and the susurrations of his armoured tail-spikes spoke of warning. With a wave of his claws, Onyxious plunged the cave into near pitch blackness. Feeling his way back along the cavern, with only the flickering balefire light of the hoard seal to show the way, Sharptooth fled.

♠♣♥♦

Sharptooth had curled up in the dragon's cave in a corner near the fire. Afraid to stay, too proud to leave, he hadn't slept well. Some time into the long night, however, he had entered into a fitful doze. Thus, the application of huge claw to his side snapped him into wakefulness.

"Awaken, foal. I would see whether your pony-parents have done as good a job as I hope in growing you. Your mother tells me you have taken up map-making?"

"My mother?" the green dragon yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "How did you know..?"

"She writes, when she cannot visit. Well?"

"I, er, no, well... not quite. I'm making a... a better map," Sharptooth stammered. "Equestria is... fuzzy, at the edges. The ponies all know where they live, and it's all well-known near Canterlot, but down here and out near the Griffon Kingdoms, there's a lot of unknowns. I noticed Mama's map was far more wrong than it should have been, and I started studying it. I think I understand what, but not why."

Onyxious said nothing for a few minutes, then he seemed to come to a conclusion. "Come, Sharptooth. Can you fly?"

"Yes, sir, I flew here."

"Then follow me."

Sharptooth followed Onyxious outside. The sun was up and the sky was clear, but the wind was fresh and cold. Taking a few huge lumbering steps, the ebony-hued behemoth took to the skies. Sharptooth watched as the other dragon circled, then leaped into the air to follow him. The dragon didn't wait long, but almost immediately started flapping his wings to gain altitude and speed. Sharptooth found it was hard work to keep up, but he was determined not to lose sight of his goal.

Equestria spread out below them. Green rolling hills, meadows full of flowers, small brooks and quiet little hamlets dotted the landscape. Casting his eyes upwards, the green dragon spied pegasi darting about, maneuvering the clouds to provide shade or bring the rains. His talons involuntarily flexed, and it made him feel a slight twinge of shame. He had had no breakfast, and very little to eat in the past few days.

With a start, he realized he'd lost sight of Onyxious, but it wasn't to be for long. Moments later, the great dark shadow rose out of the clouds and that huge head turned towards him.

"From here, Sharptooth, they all seem so smalll, don't they? So fragile, and yet their works leave an indelible hoofprint across this land."

Sharptooth nodded, flapping his wings. His breath was coming hot and fast, but a second wind filled him. He felt as one with the heavens. Beneath him, Onyxious lazily rolled and dived, before coming up to his other side.

"What if I told you, that this was flat wrong. Those fragile ponies are anything but, and that land they shape to their whim is like smoke. You are drawn to this truth, Sharptooth, because of your true nature. Those ponies, and the griffon, and the diamond dogs, they all but create the world they stand upon. You and I, we can see things as they truly are. Follow now, foal. If you succeed, I will henceforth call you hatchling."

"If I fail?"

"Then you will surely die."

"I will not fail."

Onyxious rose again, seemingly effortlessly, and Sharptooth urged his body onwards to follow. As he watched, the black dragon began to shimmer; ribbons of light burst from his body, scintillating diamond-flecked pin-pricks streaming from from his scales in a shower of stars. Where they fell, they dissipated like rain on hot rocks, evaporating into the ether. They seemed to melt into the sky as if they were a part of it, for all the world like seafoam swallowed by the ocean waves. As the black behemoth sped his way through the sky, he was not flapping merely through the air, but through the sky itself.

Sharptooth tasted the magical backwash, tinny and metallic. He spurted flame to purge the taste and then sought to emulate his reluctant teacher. Catching what felt like eddies in an otherwise still pond, Sharptooth marvelled at the feel of it. It was electric, like he imagined a tame lightning bolt would feel. It was a tingling warmth that spread throughout his body from end of his snout to the very tip of his tail.

"Feel it, young one! This is the magic you were born with, Sharptooth. This is magic that few ponies could hope to understand, let alone master."

"What... what is it?"

"You asked how come your pony-mother's map is wrong? You ask to be taught the forces behind the spells you have placed upon your own map? I now show you, little one. Fly with me!"

Sharptooth had a feeling of great distance opening before him, but it was unlike anything he had experienced before. Many times since gaining flight, he had soared above Equestria purely for the thrill of it, sculling through the upper reaches of the sky, letting his mind drift as aimlessly as his body. Sometimes, he fancied himself swimming through a great ocean, with not height but depths below him. This, now, was the same sensation but magnified a thousand fold. Silently, though senses other than the usual five were screaming at him in panic, the very fabric of the azure dome of the world split and tore open, and he fell down into the great roiling maw of chaos beyond.

The world changed. In an instant, the madness was gone, leaving nothing but after-images that faded as swiftly as the fragments of a dream, forgotten in the morning. Blinking away tears, the green dragon looked around at the realm beneath him. It took his breath away, the stark beauty and contrast almost made his wings falter as he forgot to fly.

It was diamond, the whole world was seemingly made of diamond. A great ocean of crystal covered everything, a forest of never-ending scintillating spires as far as the eye could see. The strange, alien world was tinged with a dull vermilion, and it was devastatingly quiet. Looking up, Sharptooth almost lost the remaining shreds of self-control. He cowered in shock; the sun! It was huge, bloated and red. It hung in the sky like a leprous pumpkin, half as big as the horizon. Strange eddies of lights spun and twisted in the cloudless sky and he could see stars dotting the curtain of night even though it had to be day.

He landed heavily, breathless and shaking. "What is this place?" he called.

Onyxious furled his wings as his great talons fastened to a crystalline ledge. "Welcome, hatchling. Welcome to the Diamond Expanse."

♠♣♥♦

Penny eyed the chariot suspiciously. "Tell me again why I've got to pull your fat backside through the sky?"

Chip had the decency to look embarrassed. "Umm, well, it's... you see..."

"Dufus is right, Pen. Me and Beth don't have the skills. Only you and Hairpin can fly this thing. If we all want to go, you've gotta help." Carmine shrugged her wings, flicking Chip in the ear.

"I want a pony-pedi," Bright Pinion said, scowling.

"Huh?" Chip head-tilted in surprise.

"You, me, a hoof-scrub and some spit and polish. Or no deal."

Carmine squawked in a griffonish chuckle, "Me too, Chip."

"And me!" Hairpin said, giggling as she landed. Her saddle-bags were full of supplies, which Bella helped to unload. "In fact, all us girls deserve a little special attention on this holiday."

Chip rolled his eyes. "No fair! You're all ganging up on me!"

"It's what we do best, master. Comes with the job, for me, so all my girlfriends get a little extra."

Chip hung his head. It was going to be expensive, owning a thoroughbred like Hairpin. He could see it now: shopping trips, designer saddlebags, chic clothes... He shuddered.

"Cheer up." Hairpin kissed him on the cheek as she moved to pack yet more clothes and makeup in the carriage, "I promise to let you misbehave at least once, and I won't even tell your dad."

"Not that I won't find out," Sharptooth said as he lumbered out of the house, limping slightly. "I see you have things well in hoof, Miss Hairpin. Do let me know when you get there, I believe young Chip has been practicing his posting skills. Which reminds me, you have my leave to take a side-trip to Ponyville and fetch my tea-set back again, if it fits in your schedule."

Chip winced. "Sorry, dad."

The green dragon chuckled. "Accidents happen. So, are you all ready?"

"Wait..!" came a plaintive cry, followed by huffing and puffing and the pitter-patter of little paws. "Wait for Ruff! Ruff comes too!"

Chip turned to see Ruff, the smallish diamond dog, heaving himself up the last few steps. Chip raised an eyebrow. "You wanna come too?" He watched as the diminutive diamond dog all but collapsed into the chariot, wheezing and puffing from running all the way up the stone spire to the dragon's home.

"Uh-huh! Ruff... wants..." he huffed and wheezed some more before continuing, "to come too. I even have an adventuring hat!" The diamond dog pup thumbed a claw at his backpack as he fell onto his stomach. It was stuffed with what clothes a troll like him would need, to which was affixed a beige, pith helmet. "Just like Daring Do!"

Chip whistled appreciatively. "That is a nice hat. I think we have room for one more... what do you guys think?"

Carmine rolled her eyes, but Hairpin trotted over and picked him up by the scruff of his neck, placing the pup in the chariot. "We've got room," she said, ruffling his head-fur.

"In that case, there is but one more thing before you can go, my son. Wait here."

Chip watched as the dragon disappeared inside the house. A few minutes later, he emerged again, holding a rolled-up scroll in one claw.

The larger green dragon unrolled it almost reverently. It was drawn on what felt like canvas, thick and hard to tear, but the ink itself was what drew the eye: the map was made of neat brown lines, flowing with an uncanny precision that seemed organic more than made. Spidery text marked points of interest, in what appeared to be Equestrian as well as in some other pictorial language made of rune-like scratchings.

"This is the first version of my map. It has been sought after for centuries, but it is not for ponies to own. You will guard it with your lives; the secrets held within could unravel the fragile peace which reigns in Equestria, and I think all here know just how fragile that truly is." The dragon looked from pony to griffon to diamond dog to pony-shaped dragon, meeting the gaze of each one. "I give this to you now, Chiphoof Irontail Leatherback, so that you may better fulfill whatever quest you feel you are on. Be careful with it, the map will guide you truthfully but it will not guide you safely."

"I... thank you, dad. I'll be careful."

"When you return, I may teach you some of the spells behind it. For now, know why I made it: I sought to make known all of Equestria, and in my hubris thought it a simple task. It wasn't. Observe." Smoothing out the map carefully, Sharptooth placed four rocks in each corner to keep it flat and prevent the wind from taking it. He pointed to Neighvada, and then off towards Rein, his claw tracing its way to some convoluted sigils and signs. "Here lies the beginning of the Path to the lost diamond dog realm, young adventurers. Deviate from it, and it will remain hidden from you. Follow it, follow each and every twist and turn, and you will find what you seek. I warn you, though, do not attempt to pass through. Whatever Way was opened, if it still exists, is unstable and liable to collapse. Should it collapse with you in it, you will never return."

Chip gulped. "I won't, I promise. We all do."

♠♣♥♦

The sun was setting behind them to the west, turning the sky golden and the clouds red. They flew on towards the night and the rising moon in silence, basking in the common glow of adventure. They'd been travelling all day at an easy pace, the seemingly tireless pegasi devouring the miles. Even with the two ponies, one diamond dog and all the luggage stuffed into the chariot, they'd made good time. The two griffons, Beth and Carmine, had flown to either side, diving and swooping as they caught prey on the wing. Other than brief stops for water and food, they'd been on the move since the early morning. Slowly, however, fatigue was making itself known.

Beneath them, the desert had changed to greener fields - although most was still a universal shade of brown, with the thick clay-rich ground stretching out in all directions. Chip and his party flew lower now and their shadows sped before them, stretched long and thin. Seemingly all at once, the desert which had previously given way to dry farmlands scraped out of the dust was itself replaced by scrubby trees and bushes. The marked change, despite the continuation of dry, sparse terrain, marked a resurgence in earth ponies and civilization. They were following a road now, the only road, as it wound its way through the baked countryside from the city to the outlying towns.

Neighvada was far behind them, but it would be a visible glow during the night. It had been all bright lights and busy streets. In contrast to the sleepy Tacksworn, the city had been a shock to the system. Neighvada never slept, not even during the afternoon siesta period which marked a lull for life back home. They'd had to fly higher on their trip across the bustling metropolis, the chariot swaying as Hairpin and Penny fought microbursts and avoided pegasi, dragon and other air-traffic. Chip had looked out of the chariot at the city somewhat wistfully. He'd never really visited Neighvada, he'd only ever been there with his parents. Then again, the last time he'd visited the area he'd ended up with Pyrite, the uncle who had arranged for his parents' death and had who had tried to kill him too. Mixed feelings, indeed.

As Rein came up before them, he didn't quite know what to make of things. His ancestral home was almost a stranger to him now, with his life clearly demarked into before and after periods in the colt's mind.

"Tell me you've got a ledge we can land on, right?" called Carmine as she swooped momentarily closer to the chariot, eyes searching the houses and other dwellings incredulously.

"No," cried Chip over the wind, "the whole town is mostly full of earth ponies and unicorns, so no wings. All the pegasi live in Featherfall nearer the great lake. We can land in the grounds though. I don't know if the servants stayed on, but there are places for carriages where we can stow our gear."

"You had servants?" asked Hairpin, raising her voice above the gusts, flicking an ear.

Chip shook his head. "Not really. Craftsponies would come and fix the garden and clean the windows, things like that, and we had maids come and do the washing, but not actual servants. I don't know if they're still being paid... I kind of... didn't get much chance to find out."

A wing brushed his ear as Carmine swooped closer again. "That's what we're here for, dragon-boy."

The landing proved to be exciting, if by 'exciting' was meant 'almost had to clean the upholstery'. Bright Penny was exhausted and inexperienced; they'd flown further than they should have with the young pegasus pulling, and by the time Chip had located his home, the filly was almost ready to drop.

"There it is!" cried Chip, pointing with a hoof. Carmine and Beth flew ahead, circling the buildings where the colt had shown.

"Coming in for a landing then!" cried Hairpin. "Keep all hooves and legs inside the carriage at all times! Fasten all seat-belts!"

"We don't have seatbelts!" shouted Chip as the chariot circled, dropping lower and lower. They barely cleared the roof, knocking slates off on what surely had to be their final pass.

"Then hold on! Penny, you've got to flare your wings and drop your speed just before you land, okay?"

"Okay... I think!"

"Ready?"

"No!"

"Too late!"

Chip hadn't known you could slide a chariot into a barn without opening the doors first. Now he knew better. He coughed as straw rained about them, waving a hoof in front of his muzzle. "We all in one piece?" The colt stood up, more used to heavy landings than the rest of the chariot's occupants.

"Owww," moaned Bright Penny. She'd fallen onto her backside, and was currently nursing her rear end.

Hairpin poked her head out of a pile of hay that had fallen on her and the carriage. "All present and correct, master!"

"Ruff is here too!" Ruff waved a paw out of the pile that had formed from their luggage, his voice rather muffled.

"I'm alive," Bella said, flipping herself the right way up in a tangle of legs, mane and tail. "Barely."

With a flutter of feathers, Carmine and Beth landed outside the barn. They padded in, chuckling. "I think you guys should get a little practice before you try that again," Carmine said.

"Practice is what doesn't kill you... or something. I think I'm about ready for some shut-eye," Penny said, yawning as she tentatively stretched her wings. "Practice more tomorrow."

Chip stretched as he looked around at the group. He couldn't help grinning. "Grab what you need for tonight, I'll get the doors open. I... don't know what the rooms are like, so just find somewhere you like and settle down. I'm too tired to even attempt to make the beds."

The doors opened with little fuss, though the locks were stiff and he had to grit his teeth to turn the key. The windows were all shuttered and drawn and dust was everywhere. The air of the building smelled musty and disused. Chip shuddered as he entered, for the first few moments it felt almost somehow wrong to be intruding. Then the loud clatter and clack of hooves and claws filled the suddenly-cramped space of the rear entrance, and Chip found himself pointing up staircases and down corridors. It was, when all was said and done, a small house, and the group of seven were more than enough to bring it back to life.

Chip found himself putting Hairpin in his parents room. Ruff bundled in too, leaping on the bed as Pin opened the windows to let in some fresher air. Bella and Beth both found guest rooms, as did Penny, and Chip found his old bedroom.

It was bare, now. Most of his belongings were back home in Tacksworn. As he looked around at the empty walls, brighter patches of cracked paint and faded wallpaper where his drawings and posters had been, he realized that home was somewhere else. It was disconcerting, another reminder of how his life had changed. He wasn't home, he was at his parents' house. It didn't feel like his, even though he owned it.

"Hey, kid," Carmine called. She pushed the door open with a claw. "There's... not really anywhere for me to sleep so... I was kinda thinking..."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll... sleep on the couch."

"Shards and shells, Chip!" Carmine punched him in the withers again. "Wrong answer!"

"Er," Chip blushed, "w-would you like to sleep w-with me?"

"Yeah, but I get the bed." The griffon stalked in, her tail flicking him softly on the nose.

Chip rolled his eyes, sniffling and wiping them surreptitiously where the griffon couldn't see it. She flicked him with her tail again anyhow.

"Don't tell anyone, but... I kinda like you. I figured you could do with some company, back in the old place, folks not home and all that."

Chip laughed, wiping away the tears. "I could, thanks, C." He busied himself fetching some extra blankets and cushions. Turning around, he caught the griffon watching him. "What?"

"You know, if you're cold, you could sleep on the bed too." Carmine leaped up and buried herself under the covers. "Just sleep though, on your side." She yawned through the blanket, "and no snoring."

Chip watched as the griffon curled herself up, lion's tail almost wrapped around her muzzle. He shook his head. Girls. Would they ever make any sense? He clambered up onto the mattress, arranging cushions in the now-too-small bed and pulling a second blanket over himself with his teeth. He lay looking at the wall for a long time, listening to and feeling the breathing of the griffon chick next to him grow gradually deeper and slower. He closed his eyes, and eventually sleep found him.

♠♣♥♦

Sharptooth stood on the ridge of the mountain. It felt smooth, as if it had been molten at one time. "What happened here?"

"This world is old, young Sharptooth." Onyxious folded his limbs up underneath his body. "That sun has been shining for years longer than Equestria has existed. It will shine for many more. Legends tell of a time when this planet was teeming with life, when it was green and pleasant. Like all things, that time came to an end. The sun burned, young dragon. It split the sky asunder and melted the world into glass. Some say it was the creatures who lived here, others that it was some other entity from the Great Deeps. I know not. Whatever it was, it left this world cold and lifeless, but beautiful."

Sharptooth listened, and realised that he couldn't hear anything. Not a bird, not a pony, not a wolf... not even the chirping of insects. The world was dead. He swallowed. "Why? Why do you show this to me?"

"Because, young dragon, you must understand what it is you seek."

Sharptooth eyed Onyxious. "I'm a dragon now, then?"

There was a short, sharp snort. "If you will it. Young dragon, you stand upon a new world. Between this and Equestria lies a thin veil which is all too easily pierced. Should ponies, and a more curious younger race I have yet to encounter, attempt to master the map you seek to create, they could pull their world into the spaces between."

Sharptooth shivered as Onyxious leaned his head closer.

"It would not end well."

"But I-"

"You followed me. I was not lying when I told you that hasty actions would lead to your untimely end. This, dragon, is the legacy you would inherit. The world, the knowledge and the burden of its protection."

"That's a lot to take in." Sharptooth hissed through his teeth appreciatively.

"I am sure you are more than capable." Onyxious turned his head to the skies, apparently lost in thought.

"A compliment?" Sharptooth grinned, spreading his wings gleefully. At the black dragon's infuriated snort, the younger green dragon hopped from hind-claw to hind-claw. "It was! You complimented me!"

"I'll try not to make a habit of it," chuckled the black dragon mirthfully. "Perhaps, young Sharptooth, you would listen to a suggestion from an old, foolish dragon?"

The green dragon stopped hopping about and turned to listen.

"The ponies need... a shepherd. A dragon, to stand amongst them, to teach them and guide them as they grow. I would see their kind prosper and flourish, and continued good ties with Leviathania can only be a benefit. When you have finished your studies, when you are truly ready to be a dragon, then approach the emperor. I would nominate you ambassador, and sponsor your election."

"An ambassador? Me?" Sharptooth blinked, eyeing the other dragon.

"There are few of our kind who would see it as necessary, fewer still who could perform such duties with the necessary understanding. It is not much, but I would... appreciate it."

"You like them, don't you?" asked Sharptooth after a few minutes of silence. "You like the ponies."

"They grow on you, young Sharptooth."

♠♣♥♦

Hearth and Home - Part 1

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═════════════════════════════════════

Chapter 13
Hearth and Home
Part 1
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

The train pulled into Gaskin Path, the whistle howling shrilly with a great billow of steam. The four teamsters, weary and grimy from their long haul, were unhitched from their harnesses and led away to water. The small, lonely station was momentarily busy with what passed for traffic in that remote corner of nowhere as the train was swiftly unloaded, reloaded and prepared for the rest of its trip. A couple of local weather pegasi dumped a whole cumulonimbus' worth of rain into the water-tank and four new teamsters were smoothly and quickly hitched up to the engine. The platform then rapidly cleared of passengers and freight, and with a great deal of huffing and puffing, the locomotive picked up speed and moved Eastwards towards Neighvada.

A few minutes later, the only people left at the station were a weary, bleary-eyed group consisting of ponies, griffons, a diamond dog and a dragon, and their little painted wagon full of travel supplies.

"Come on guys, last stretch," said Chip, yawning.

"Easy for you to say," grumbled Penny, "you don't have to pull dead weight."

"I can—" Chip yawned again "—pull if you want. It'll take a bit longer to get home though."

"Stuff it, scale-boy. I just wanna go home," grumbled Penny, with uncharacteristic gruffness. "My feathers itch, my tail's sore and I haven't had a good meal since Stalliongrad. Five days ago." The pegasus ruffled her feathers, shaking them out as she stomped into the harness.

Chip's ears drooped dejectedly. "I'm sorry! I thought you had fun, you know? It was fun, wasn't it?"

Penny grumbled something incoherent, biting her legs from the fetlock to pastern as she sought to quash an itch. Hairpin trotted alongside the grouchy pegasus and rubbed her head along the filly's barrel soothingly. Giving the Penny a motherly mane-grooming, she admonished the younger pegasus: "Language like that from a filly like you!"

Grumbling again, but less flagrantly, Penny raised her head and said, "I'm sorry. I'm just tired. I don't travel well and I want to go home. It's been exhausting."

Chip lowered his head and looked at the ground bashfully, rubbing his aching muzzle on his leg to hide the blush. "I'm sorry too," he mumbled. "I didn't know all this would happen."

"I suppose you couldn't," Penny said with a scowl, then grinned slightly. "But next time we go on an adventure like this, make sure I don't have to haul your backside halfway across Equestria!" Penny scowled again, but she couldn't keep it up when Hairpin started giggling. "That's not fair!" she moaned. "It's hard work!"

"I know, my little pony, but if you want to grow big and strong, and be the fastest flyer in all of Equestria, you've got to push yourself. My old master Pig Iron had me practice bringing kegs of ale up from the cellar, once I got big enough." Hairpin eased herself into the restraints next to Penny, aided by the helpful Carmine and Beth. "It was character building, like this is."

Chip, Bella and Ruff saw to securing the cargo and themselves in the wagon, and the griffons saw to the two pegasi, making sure they were comfortably snug. Once their job was done, the two griffons stretched in the early morning sun before taking to the skies. They circled lazily, with long, slow beats of their wings. The darkened desert around the group had been slowly growing brighter, culminating in the appearance of Celestia's sun as it rose above the horizon. Their spirits rose as did the temperature, the glare burning the night's frost off the surrounding flora. The day would be one of the last of the year above freezing – winter was approaching, even for the hot and dry desert. Soon enough, the storm clouds would be rolling in, thick and heavy with snow, towed by the travelling weather-caravans of the South.

"Come on, guys, let's go. Time's wastin'!" cried Carmine as she swooped low over the carriage, her crest rising up above her pink-hued head-feathers. "Time to head home!"

"I guess you're right, Chip," huffed Penny as she and Hairpin started to trot. "It has been fun, I guess."

"I'm glad you were with me. I... needed you with me. All of you," Chip said, grinning weakly as the small wagon picked up speed. The smooth concrete platform gave way to rough, pothole-strewn dirt road, and the conveyance started to jostle and bounce. Moments later, the two pegasi stretched their wings and leapt skywards, and the carriage swooped after them. The ground fell away, scenery dwindling until it was toy-sized, like a chequer blanket spread out below them.

"It's been amazing, awful and terrifying but... I'd do it all again," affirmed Penny, glancing over her shoulder. "Now though, I just want to get home. I miss Mom and Dad."

"Then let's go," agreed Chip.

"Aye," said Bella, a wicked grin on her muzzle, "giddy up!"

"Ruff want home," sighed the diamond dog pup, shivering. "Ruff want home very much."

♠♣♥♦

The throne chamber, secure at the very heart of the changeling Hive Citadel, was cavernous yet close. Situated deep underground, it was the protected from all save the most determined and capable of intruders. The thump thump thump of the air-pumps provided a comforting background ambience, almost hypnotic in quality. Vein-like channels in the superstructure pulsated with life-energy emitted by the queen. They glowed faintly, illuminating the various exits in the walls and ceiling.

The changeling queen shifted on her chitin-covered throne and brooded as she waited for her operatives to present themselves. The throne had been fashioned from the corpse of a rival or consort of some sort, she couldn't really remember which. Possibly both. Chitin lasted a long time, the original owner hadn't. The throne chamber appeared empty, but flickers of blue in the shadowy darkness betrayed her subjects' locations. They were watching and waiting to see if their queen, Emerald, was in a mood to punish or reward. The Hive in the back of her mind was subdued and tense, crackling with her own supressed emotions.

The three remaining changelings from the aborted mission in Stalliongrad had merged their intellects with the Hive gestalt, and were on their way to an audience. Comforting thoughts of welcome had begun flowing to them upon their return, lessening the pain of their prolonged exile. Changelings could act alone, but not for long; separation from the Hive brought great anguish, and eventually death. Only the queen was able to stand as a distinct mind within or apart from the Hive, but even she needed the song of her people to be truly at peace. Without a queen, the Hive was nothing.

The Hive ached with desire for their memories to be shared, much as their purloined emotions already had been, but the queen demanded her due. The three prostrated themselves in front of their ruler, angular horns touching the floor. Their gossamer wings fluttered in agitation, fear and love. An audience with the queen was bliss for the changelings, especially after their trials. The aura of love she gave off was palpable and they bathed in it, relishing the nourishing warmth. The audience came at a price, though; they had failed their mistress. The failure was painful and distasteful. It tinged her gifts to them, a sour note in an otherwise glorious aria within their minds and bodies.

Deciding to be kind, Queen Emerald exerted control over her emotions. Pure love and affection flowed through her to the Hive. The silent praise lifted the spirits of the whole Hive. This was her power, and her responsibility. Her people depended on an energy they could not generate for themselves. Unfed drones were not just unhappy drones, they were listless and incapable of the tasks required of them.

"Rise, my subjects, and report on your mission," Emerald said, her voice carrying to the far reaches of the chamber. "Aloud, please. I shall digest your Sharings fully later."

"Yes, my Queen," said one, rising to his hooves. He was followed by the others.

Emerald eyed the speaker thoughtfully as he began to speak. He had no truly distinguishing features now he was in his common form. His skin was black and chitinous, his eyes burned a light blue, his horn was jagged and pointy and his wings were translucent and fragile. The soft breeze from the air-pumps that kept the hive-air clean and fresh flowed through the holes in his legs. Turning slightly, he made them whistle. This idle action – partly a nervous tick, partly just idiosyncratic behaviour – had given him an actual name, Whistler. This penchant towards independent thought had lead to his being picked for the mission. Once, long ago, he had been a pony. Now, he was through and through an agent for his queen, Emerald. She had no doubts about that, and he welcomed it. It was troubling to recall life before the Hive, but he couldn't deny it was useful at times. It had helped him and his cell escape, though three others had died.

He told the queen, haltingly as speech wasn't something he was used to, about their tracking down of the dragon-led party, about their run-ins with other forces that had complicated matters, and of their final, crushing defeat by the dragons that protected Stalliongrad.

Emerald was quiet for a while, pondering. Then she stood up from her throne and approached her minions. They hastily bowed, wings buzzing in agitation. Judgement was to be bestowed. Gently, she caressed the three with her hooves and wings, touching each one with her horn. "You have done well, my subjects," she said, voice soft. "Few have gone up against so much and prospered so well."

"But, your majesty, we—"

"Shh," Emerald comforted, "you deserve rest. Three of our family have been taken from us; their memories will be shared and sung for three days, that they will not pass from the Hive in darkness." At her words, the multitude rang with cries of gratitude as well as the pain of loss. Mentally calling for calm, she continued when the hubbub had died down. "After that, we shall recruit more brothers and sisters." The mental chatter from the Hive grew louder again, almost overpoweringly so, at the news. The throne chamber rang with their chittering conversations. The queen smiled inwardly, and gave yet another silent command for peace. New changeling converts meant abundant food and new memories, as well as new siblings.

"We shall take them from the dogs," Emerald said, pausing a moment to revel in the wave of astonishment that swept through the Hive. "We shall take them from the pack which fawns at the hooves of the young dragon-prince, and we shall observe the youngling in secret. He is no fool, for all that his summers are so few. He knows what he has, as do our myriad enemies. If we cannot penetrate the dragon's hoard, we shall let others do it for us. And when we are ready, we will strike!" The queen struck her hoof on the solid stone floor, the impact reverberating throughout the hive. "We will strike, we will take what we desire, and we will master it!"

The answering stomps of ten thousand changelings reverberated through the Hive, buoying them and lifting their spirits. It was almost as good as love, though she knew it wouldn't last quite so long. Maybe it was time for her to visit the Birthing Chambers again; there were quite a few new subjects ready to share their love and in turn be made ready to share the bounties of the Hive. Her minions would need to be strong for their coming ordeals.

♠♣♥♦

Sharptooth moved the chair again, sighting along it to the door as he sought to place it for maximum effect. Once his errant, adopted offspring returned, he would be seated and ready to bestow justice. The back now faced directly away from the cave-dwelling's entrance. He snorted and shook his head. He twirled the chair around so the back was towards the fireplace, shivering as he looked out the window, and then changed his mind again. He placed it back where it had been in the beginning. Then he angled the chair just so to make the most of Chip's entrance. He was still tweaking the seat's location for the best impact when the door swung open. Sharptooth spun to see a bedraggled, exhausted colt dragging in two overfull saddlebags. For a brief moment, the two stood stock still as the chill air flowed in. Then, wordlessly, Chip dropped the bags and ran to embrace his father. Chip closed his eyes, squeezing them shut against the tears.

Sharptooth patted his son on the head with a forepaw, feeling awkward. He hadn't been aware it would be so bittersweet, being a parent. He stroked his son's mane and murmured comfortingly as the boy pressed himself against the older dragon. Sharptooth looked up, not breaking the embrace, as Hairpin eased herself tentatively in through the still-open door. Sharptooth motioned with his head up the stairs, to the pegasus' bedroom. She gave an indulgent smile, bending her head in genuflection to the elder clan head, and disappeared into her room.

Sharptooth turned his attention back to his son. You went to Stalliongrad without my permission? You are so very grounded, his head wanted to say. His heart had other ideas. "Are you alright, son?" There was a wordless sob, and Sharptooth felt the boy nodding. "Come on then, I think you should curl up in front of the fire. I'll get you a cup of tea and you can tell me all about it."

The dragon busied himself around the house, pulling out some extra cushions and a blanket for the boy, before bustling in the kitchen to make tea. As he prepared the ingredients, Sharptooth listened to the sound of armor falling to the floor followed by the muffled sounds of his son making himself comfortable. Smiling to himself and shaking his head, Sharptooth readied the tea and stepped back into the living room. "Of course you know, you're groun—" Sharptooth began, but then he stopped. As he neared the bundle of cushions and blankets near the fire, it came to no real surprise to hear snores coming from its general location.

A roughly pony-shaped lump was curled up on the cushion-pile, completely covered by a blanket, with only the very tip of Chip's muzzle poking out. He was fast asleep. Chuckling, Sharptooth settled into his chair. It creaked as the dragon leaned his bulk back. He slurped his tea thoughtfully; last time he'd tried to discipline the boy, it hadn't really been fair and hadn't really worked. It didn't look like he'd have much luck this time, either. Still, after whatever the lad had gotten up to, it seemed unlikely he'd be straying for a while. It was good, Sharptooth realized, to have his son home, and far more important than the tea-set or the state of the tea.

♠♣♥♦

Chip came suddenly awake in the semi-darkness, memory fuzzy as his brain slowly fired up. He ran through the past few days in his mind; there had been a train ride, though he was no longer on a train. There had been the long, tense carriage-ride from the remote hamlet of Gaskin Path, which had ended when they pulled into Tacksworn. He'd done his best to escort his friends home, passing on the lift up the mountain, to trudge the lonely stone staircase by himself. Then... he wasn't quite sure.

He yawned and tried to stretch, and found himself clutched tightly in the claws of Sharptooth. Memory returned; he was home, he had answers – of a sort – and he had put to rest the madness that had claimed his birth-parents, at least for now. He was, however, still concerned; the staff would be trouble, but it was hidden. It wouldn't stop the determined, so he'd have to think of somewhere to put it for good. Asking Ruff to keep it would almost certainly be trouble. Unless...

"That might work," Chip whispered to himself.

The snoring stopped, and one great eye opened. "Hmm, what's that? Oh, Chip, awake again?"

"Sorry, Dad, I was just... talking to myself. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Then you shouldn't have snuck down here to sleep like a little hatchling under my wings."

Chip opened his muzzle, then shut it again. "That never happened."

For an answer, Sharptooth curled up tighter.

"Should I be going to school today? What day is it?"

"No school today, but you're so very, very grounded. You went to Stalliongrad without my permission," the older dragon rumbled, his displeasure clear. "And it's worse than that."

"What?" Chip asked, perturbed. What could be worse than traipsing halfway across the country with a purloined carriage?

"You tried to pass through the Way. I told you, boy, it was not safe."

"I'm sorry," squeaked Chip. He rolled over, kicking his hooves about until he could look his father in the eye. "I didn't mean to, it just... happened. We were in the cave and there was this... crack. One second I was looking at it and the next, the mountain was falling down around us."

"I had thought my warning enough to keep you clear of it. The untempered schism of an unstable Way is not to be taken lightly, young dragon. The raw powers of chaos seep through into places such as that path, and they have their own ways of tugging at the mind and soul."

"I know, now. How did you... Were you spying on me?"

Sharptooth chuckled. "No, lad, no. You were trespassing on my domain. You must remember the sigil of the Diamond Expanse Clan carved into the rock floor of the cave?"

Chip nodded as he recalled it, and Sharptooth continued.

"I laid that grounding spell hundreds of years ago. When you crossed the threshold, I knew where you were. Had you not escaped, and had you not been sucked into the howling wastes between worlds, I would have rescued you. It would not have been pleasant, but I would have found you. I will always find you; you are a part of me. You will learn this, with time. It is how I know you were in Stalliongrad, though not what you did there. I trust you had good reason to travel to the ends of Equestria?" Sharptooth paused, one eyeridge raised quizzically.

"I... did. We all did. We had no choice."

Sharptooth was silent for a moment as he contemplated the meaning of these words. "It was to do with your parents?"

"Yes, sir, it was."

Haltingly, Chip began to tell Sharptooth of what had transpired between his group of friends over the last couple of weeks, and how come a brief trip East had turned into a trek from one end of the known world to the other. When Chip described the encounter with the green-blooded shapeshifters, the older dragon hissed in displeasure.

"They were changelings, Chip. Distasteful creatures that can assume – with practice – many other forms, including that of a dragon. It is more than a mere glamour spell, but not a true transformation. Such magic is for only gifted creatures such as you or I, or the pony and griffon sorcerors. For all Changeling Glamour is a shallow facsimile of true becoming, it is all the more insidious as it is as natural to them as breathing is for other insects and vermin."

"Where do they come from?" Chip asked. "What do they want?"

"They can be found in many remote locations – the Frozen North, the jungles of the Eastern Wilds, and they want what their queen wants. What she wants is love."

Chip righted himself and furrowed his brow. He stared at Sharptooth. "What's so bad about that?"

"One changeling is little more than a pest. He or she will assume the guise of a loved one, and steal a kiss or a hug. When they are determined, however, they are foul beasts. They will replace the original creature, assuming their lives, whilst the hapless prisoner becomes one of them, milked for the emotion that would be rightfully theirs until there is nothing left but an empty shell. When a whole swarm of changelings invades, they do not stoop to such trickery, they merely suck the life from all who stand in their way. Unstopped, they sweep over whole communities, draining the life from everything and everyone."

Chip shivered, cold despite the warmth from the dragon. "Y-you've dealt with them before?"

"I am an ambassador," said Sharptooth, slowly. He looked away, eyes fixed on the past. "I am an ambassador, but they cannot be reasoned with. It is the only time I have ever been close to regretting my actions."

"You didn't stop them from... eating everyone?" Chip asked, in a small voice.

"No, my boy, I did stop them. I burned them; I ravaged their hive and executed their queen. None escaped, whether it was by my claw, or starvation as the Hive withered without her."

Chip felt sick.

Sharptooth nodded wisely at his son's expression. "I am a dragon, my child, as are you, now. When the time comes, you will know what that means... and that time will come. There will be great rage, and within you will stir the spirit of our ancestors. Master it, or it will master you." Sharptooth stretched and uncoiled, rising from his warm, comfortable weyr.

"Did... did it master you, dad?" Chip asked, voice quiet.

Sharptooth looked down with a sombre expression, gaze far away. "No, it did not." Wordlessly, the dragon extricated himself from his bed, leaving the boy alone in the shallow depression.

The dragon stomped from the room, his tail flicking angrily. Chip winced as the door to the sleeping quarters slammed shut, the sound echoing through the otherwise-empty chamber.

♠♣♥♦

Chip avoided his father for most of the rest of the day, attempting to make good for his transgressions by doing odd jobs around the house, including seeing to a worn-out Hairpin.

He knocked gently on Hairpin's door and then opened it. He peeked around the corner, grinning hopefully. "Would you like some tea?" he asked, pointing a hoof to his haunches, where a tray was expertly balanced.

Hairpin was reclining on her bed with a towel around her head. Her feathers were well-preened and her coat, mane and tail shone. She'd spent half the day in the bathroom and was now surrounded by a large selection of brushes, combs and curlers. She was making the most of the large, low flat bed that Sharptooth had purchased for her. She looked up from a scroll, with a thin brush in her muzzle, and smiled. Placing the drawing implement into a small inkwell, Hairpin blew softly on the scroll and then rolled it up, before turning to Chip.

"Hello, Master. Did you have a nice day?"

"I... I came to bring you a bite to eat." Chip nodded towards his back, the tray was stuffed with several plates of food and a large cup of fruit juice.

"And also to escape your father, am I right?" She laughed as Chip blushed, tray halfway to the bedside table. "You may be one, but I know dragons better than you do. I also know fathers quite well, especially draconic ones. He worries about you, for all he sets you free to make your own decisions and your own mistakes."

"It's... not at all like... like..."

"Like your parents were?"

Chip shook his head, then nodded, then shook his head again. "No, yes, I mean... yes. They were... strongly about duty and honour, and behaving properly, and knowing the right things. But Sharptooth..."

Hairpin patted her bedding, and shuffled backwards. "Come, lie down for a while whilst I eat."

"But..."

"Too big to lie down? Too high and mighty a dragon lord to consort with slaves?"

"It's not that!" Chip protested, scowling.

"Good. Sit." Hairpin wriggled closer, draping a wing over Chip. Once the draconic colt was comfortable, she continued. "Dragons are territorial, masters of their domain. They will allow nothing truly threatening to their offspring to dwell within their demesnes. Sharptooth sees all of Equestria, or at least this part of it, as his own, so he lets you roam free. But he still worries."

"I don't want to disappoint him, Pin," Chip said, sighing.

Hairpin chuckled, nuzzling the pony-shaped dragon as he rested his head forlornly on her foreleg. "You want to know why he's so grouchy? It's because you didn't."

Hairpin jumped awake as the door to her room flew open and Sharptooth stormed in. She raised her head in surprise, the dragon hadn't even knocked. He looked flustered, and was doing a bad job of hiding it.

"Hairpin, have you seen Ch—" he began.

"Chip's here, Elder Sharptooth. He's sleeping. Shh!" Hairpin rebuked, her ears flicking back against her head. Hairpin carefully moved her wing to reveal more of the sleeping form underneath. "It seems he was more tired than he let on," Hairpin whispered, smiling fondly as the lump under her wing snored heartily.

Sharptooth cleared his throat, blushing. He backed up slightly, his bulk filling the doorway. "The boy has spent a long time being a dragon. Perhaps he is owed some time being a pony?"

Hairpin snapped her teeth angrily at the retreating Sharptooth. "Master Chip deserves some time being a child."

The green dragon raised one eye-ridge, visibly taken aback. Hairpin almost laughed at the creature's surprise, but kept a straight face.

"Fine, then," Sharptooth huffed, a puff of steam issuing from each nostril. "I shall leave him to your tender ministrations, my good mare. I am going to bed."

The pegasus winced as the door was slammed shut, but she smiled softly as she arranged a blanket over herself and the sleeping Chiphoof. "Don't worry, you big, silly lizard," Hairpin whispered, "your son is safe with me."

♠♣♥♦

Chip awoke slowly, enshrouded in feathers. The experience was rare enough that he was quite unsure of his surroundings for a good half minute. The enclosed space was warm and comforting, and he felt very safe and relaxed. It was a feeling he didn't want to let go of. "Mom?" he asked, as his mind cleared.

"No, Master Chiphoof, you are with your favourite pet, Hairpin Turn." The feminine voice rang with peals of silvery laughter.

Chip's eyes shot fully open. "I'm..." He glanced bleary-eyed around at his surroundings; bright sunlight filtered through well-preened feathers, lithe and shapely legs were curled protectively over his haunches, and there was a tail wrapped around his head for extra warmth.

"Hush, you were very tired. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." Hairpin's tone was full of mirth, and the unapologetic pegasus nuzzled his haunches. "Everypony needs somewhere safe to sleep occasionally, even a big strong dragon-lord like you."

Chip was up in a flash, face burning with a blush which he was sure would melt the floor if he stood there long enough. "I-I-I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"Shh, I meant it. You were tired; I let you sleep. You should, however, ready yourself. Today is the first day of your return to school, and I would advise against being late."

"School?" replied Chip dumbly, before his brain caught up. "School! Oh horsefeathers!"

Chip scrambled out of the room, hooves skittering on the floor, as he hurried to ready himself for school. Hairpin's bright laughter followed him down the hallway. He brushed his mane, brushed his teeth, scooped together all the books he could find into his saddlebags and fled out through the front door with only one piece of draconic armor properly applied, the rest were scattered around the fireplace. It was only the several-thousand-foot drop which brought him up sharp. He panted heavily as he watched small stones kicked up by his passage disappear into the depths below. He groaned loudly. "Shards! No wings! And I'm grounded!" Chip glared angrily at the circular stairway leading down and around the mountain, and stomped a hoof.

"Just because you're grounded," a deep voice interjected, "doesn't mean you need to be late for school."

Chip turned to see Sharptooth towering over him. The young dragon's eyes lit up. "You mean it?"

"Only one way to find out, hmm?" Sharptooth pointed a claw at the momentous drop.

Chip blew his mane out of his eyes, twirled around in a circle, and then without a moment's hesitation, leaped straight over the edge. Sharptooth watched for a moment, eyes glittering with pride, then with a great swoop of wings, sped after the receding spot.

♠♣♥♦

Carmine flipped her wings against her body and then, with a forepaw, settled her satchel snug against her chest. School, the griffon huffed to herself, so lame. As she turned dejectedly to go into the wooden building, she studied the decor – anything to avoid actually stepping inside. It sported a fresh set of paint and there were a good few of Chip's diamond dogs seeing to the grounds, but nothing could hide that it was the same, stuffy place of torture, and likely always would be. She sighed, and prepared to go in. A sound stopped her. The sound was far away, and rather piercing. It had crept up on her ear sneakily, only making itself known once it had become too loud to ignore. It was a curious sound; long, drawn-out and somewhat melodic, though frightfully off-key. It sounded almost like words, Carmine realized, or rather one word. One long, joyfully exultant word—

"Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-HOOO!" Chip screamed, as he plummeted in free-fall towards the ground. Landing heavily and skidding to a halt in a cloud of dust, the obviously mad pony-shaped dragon was grinning like a maniac.

The unmistakable leathery sound of dragon wings, and the angular shadow of Sharptooth soaring overhead made Carmine squawk in surprise and instinctive fear, but as the dust settled, she fought to hide a grin. School may always be school, but Chip would always be Chip, and there was nopony else quite like him.

"Hey, dragon-boy. Daddy let you out to play?"

"He threatened to drop me off the cliff rather than take me to school, but I showed him!"

"You dived off the edge, didn't you?"

Chip just grinned. He opened his mouth to answer, when a shadow fell across the doorway.

"Hey, Buttbreath," Butch began, looming behind them.

"Hey, Butch," Chip gritted his teeth. "I thought we were past—"

"Can it," the diamond dog said. "Truce still holds. You did good. Not excellent, but good."

"He killed a dragon, Butch, and conquered a pack of diamond dogs into the bargain. Not bad, I'd say." Carmine clicked her beak in annoyance, flicking her tail.

"Yeah, yeah, we all know your boyfriend's a bigshot."

"I'm no—" Chip began, but huffed into silence when the griffon punched him in the side.

"He didn't conquer anything; he's only pack leader by default, and he hardly killed that dragon alone. He crashed into it."

"My fist's gonna crash into your face if you don't push off, mongrel," Carmine hissed.

"Oh yeah? I wanna see—"

"Butch," Chip said softly. "I'm sorry, okay? I think you were awesome that night, and you're right. I crashed into Swiftwing. I don't even want to be their Alpha! I'd give them away, but to who? I... don't want there to be any more fighting, not in Tacksworn, not over a mistake. I didn't do anything to deserve what I got. You did. You... lost a lot."

"And Chip lost everything, Butch. His parents, his home... they're gone, you butt-head," Carmine seethed. Chip winced at the words, flicking his tail in agitation.

Butch growled softly, but nodded. "Truce holds, chicken-boy," the troll said, then he stomped off.

Chip let out the breath he was holding, shaking his head.

"I think he's warming up to you," the griffon said.

"You mean it? What you said?"

"Yeah, that's his way—"

"No, I mean about..." Chip mutely pointed his hoof at Carmine before pointing back to his own body, grinning hopefully.

Carmine rolled her eyes and punched him again. "You're impossible."

The lesson was endless torture; it was a ceaseless cavalcade of mundanity, a non-stop parade of the blasé and pointless. At first it had made a wonderfully refreshing change, but that insanity had soon worn off. The teacher, and it was once again Miss Calligraphy Quill, was droning on and on about precipitation and cloud dynamics. Chip, for his part, was trying extremely hard to keep his eyes open and not fall asleep. The clock on the wall ticked so slowly, he swore it was running backwards. Just three more periods, he told himself, and I'm free!

He looked at the clock again, and once more became convinced that he was stuck in some sort of timeloop, that outside of the school ages had passed. Mountains had crumbled, the seas had dried up, the stars had fallen...

He was, in short, bored. He was bored, bored, bored, bored!

Beneath the table, behind their seats, Carmine's tail deftly twirled with his own. Fighting to prevent giggles, attempting to not create an almighty crashing clash of metal from the attached weaponry, the two youngsters did their best to distract each other from the monologue. Around them, life was normal. It was mundane, uninteresting, plodding and banal. Despite themselves, grinning to each other, they were glad of it.

Outside, the sky was grey and overcast, with a few flakes of snow drifting down. The wind whistled shrilly as it blew through town. The inside of the school's windows were icing up, even though the fireplace was roaring with warmth. Chip shivered despite himself, it was comfortable in the classroom – yawn-inducingly so – and even before he'd become a dragon, cold hadn't really bothered him, but the desert outside seemed all the bleaker for the encroachment of winter. This was his future, he realized, or at least his present. A comforting normality, built of friends found in the most unlikely of places, of a family to call his own that dampened but did not erase the pain of what he had lost, and a future open to interpretation.

Yes indeed, boredom was something he could deal with.

He looked at the clock.

Well, he could deal with it for another three periods, at least. The thought surfaced that this was going to be his fate for the foreseeable future. Slowly he sunk his muzzle into his hooves, headbutting the desk.

♠♣♥♦

Chip woke up slowly. He yawned and smacked his lips, stretching his eyes open until they stayed that way rather than tumbling closed again. Days had turned to weeks since he and his friends had returned from their trip. There had been school, there had been weekends. There had been training atop 'dragon-lesson mountain' and there had even been flying lessons, despite his being double-grounded. Butch had been a butt, the teachers had insisted on his learning things and the weather had progressively gotten even colder. Cold enough, he mused, that he didn't really feel like coming out from under his covers this morning. He'd hoped that sleeping in the ratty sofa which passed for his bed would mean Sharptooth would forget about him, but it hadn't really worked so far.

"Up and at 'em, I said," rumbled the green dragon, again.

"Awwww, Dad, I don't wanna! Lemme be I'm just gonna—" Chip yawned again "—stay here a bit longer an—"

Sharptooth chuckled to himself. "That's not going to work, my boy." The dragon dragged the covers off his son and held them just out of reach.

"Daaa-aaad! No fair! I'm a dragon now! Aren't we supposed to, like, sleep for a hundred years or something?" Chip tried to curl up into a small, warm ball. He contemplated digging under the seat-covers.

"Hmm? Oh, so you have been paying attention in class. Yes, Chip, we dragons do sleep for the occasional century, but there's more than a few indicators that such a wyrmsleep is approaching, and you exhibit none of them. On the contrary, you exhibit a good many signs of the condition known as 'dontwannagetup-itis'. It's rarely fatal, and the only cure is being turfed out of bed by your parents. Now hup, or I shall fetch a bucket of water."

Chip tensed, eyes wide. "You wouldn't!" he exclaimed, glaring up at his adopted father.

The grin on the dragon was wider than the muzzle holding it. "Try me."

Grumbling, Chip gave in and got up. Then he stretched and twisted his head to and fro until his neck joints popped. "What'm I getting up for anyhow? Isn't it the weekend?"

Sharptooth rolled his eyes. "I've been telling you for the last couple of weeks, my boy. It's the weather-caravan."

"And?"

"And we have plenty to prepare for; we have to stock up on supplies, grit the steps and prepare the bonfire for the show, along with laying out a decent spread for the neighbours."

"Bonfire? Spread? Show? What? I thought this was just, you know, weather?"

The dragon grinned. "Tacksworn doesn't see all that much action and excitement, Chip, so the arrival of the weather-caravan is something we like to make a little special. It's nothing too huge; fireworks, food, drink, music, and..."

"And?"

"What do all good storms have?"

"Thunder and lightning?" Chip hazarded a guess, spirits lifting.

"Thunder and lightning. Directed thunder and lightning, with a cloud-play by the Wonderbolt Reserves. And guess who has the best seat in the whole town?"

♠♣♥♦

The clouds rolled in slowly but steadily, the temperature dropping by the hour. Chip stood uncomfortably on top of the mountain-top, decked in full draconic regalia. He wouldn't have minded, but he'd spent all day preparing for the show.

The bonfire had a base that was made of smooth rocks which Sharptooth had enchanted to burn hot and clean. Piled atop them was a year's worth of burnable trash, broken household items and other flammable material. Chip and Sharptooth had spent the entire day dragging it all up from their home below and arranging it into a pile neat and regular enough to stay together until reduced to ash. The lighting of the bonfire had been a private ritual of sorts for the elder dragon; Chip gathered it was something from long ago, forgotten by the rest of Equestria. He wondered what it was.

The buffet table was packed with an eclectic selection of meat, fruits and vegetables, and rock-cakes. They were clearly labelled – idly, Chip wondered how many ponies or griffons had chipped a tooth or their beak in years past. He'd helped make them all, and was quite pleased that his contributions were generally good enough to not stand out from the rest.

With raucous cries and loud bellowing neighs, their flighted and not-so-flighted neighbours started to arrive. The griffons circled before swooping in, but the pegasi just charged in directly. The younger, less self-controlled members of the Tacksworn Griffon Protectorate descended more or less directly on the buffet, but various clan-heads greeted Sharptooth properly. The pegasi were formal, as were the unicorn and earth ponies they'd brought with them.

The two huge dragons Arganthious and Fangaur, sent by Quetzalcoatl the Dragon Emperor, had already carved out weyrs for themselves in the surrounding mountains, and were sleeping the winter off. They'd eaten their fill before Chip's trip to Neighvada, had made their presence known, and had staked claim to the land surrounding Tacksworn, under the aegis of Sharptooth. Anything daring to bother them would be dealing with two very annoyed wyrms. The actual dragons in attendance were few; they huddled close to the fire, using the burning rocks to keep their hookahs alight. They spoke reverently to Chip and Sharptooth, and were friendly and open to the other guests that dared fraternize, but it was clear dragons weren't a common sight around town. They hadn't been, at least, until Chip had arrived. There was one group of youths who were more than happy to spend time with dragons, or at least with one dragon in particular.

"Hey, dweeb. Nice place you got here," called Carmine, tail lashing in the firelight, as she stepped around the flames.

Chip turned, grinning as he realized who it was, and bowed to her, waving to his friends. "Welcome to... uh, well, I call it 'dragon lesson mountain'. Dad kinda drags me up here to show me the ropes."

"Wanna show me around the place?"

"There's not much to show, it's kinda dark..."

"That's the point you dufus."

Beth clawed the ground in annoyance as Chip and Carmine sauntered off. "Oh, that's great, Car. Just ditch us, we don't mind," the griffon complained, flipping her wings angrily closed as Carmine smirked and gave a triumphant flick of her tail-tuft.

"Come on, bird-brain," Bella called, her horn glowing softly, "there's plenty more boys up here, and I know for a fact that a certain Diamond Dog came up with my herd."

"Thorn's up here?"

"Uh huh, and Beryl's helping cook more Rabbit Surprise, so he's all alone."

"Not for long!"

"That's the spirit!"

The night was clear on the plateau, the clouds swirling below like a boiling sea of vapour. The stars were bright and hard like diamonds. In front of them lay Tacksworn. Above Tacksworn was a carpet of thick, black clouds that rumbled and protested as they were shepherded into position by hundreds of pegasi and griffons. On the outskirts of the town was a massive roiling storm-wall, thousands of feet high, seeding snow over the desert. For now, it was being kept back from the town proper, swirling endlessly in a circuit and forming a natural amphitheatre for the show which was to be held within.

Through gaps in the clouds above Tacksworn, Chip could see myriad fires similar to their own, with townsfolk huddled around them. As he sat with Carmine, the pair leaning against each other, he could hear snatches of conversation and laughter that echoed and rebounded until it was little but a melodic and joyful melange of sound.

Once again, he marvelled at how the diamond dog tribe he had seemingly inherited had integrated with the peoples of Tacksworn. They'd moved in, founded businesses and generally been helpful and open in building and rebuilding. They still regarded him and his father as their superiors, but at the behest of the head of the Diamond Expanse clan had got on with their lives. Still, it unnerved him, as every now and again he would idly wish for some item or trinket whilst about town, only to have it turn up on his doorstep the following morning. He'd wanted to tell them to stop it, but Sharptooth had bid him hold his tongue – he was contractually their alpha, and being able to please their alpha was an important part of the day-to-day happiness for a good deal of the more feral diamond dog tribes.

To give them something to do, he'd requested them to help ready the town for the official transition from autumn to winter. They'd gone all out to please him, and by all accounts this year's celebration was shaping up to be the best ever. It wasn't until the storm-show began that Chip understood what all the fuss was about. With expertly shaped clouds being dragged around by small teams of pegasi, accentuated by fireworks as well as thunder and lightning, stories of old myths and legends were re-told in the dark skies about Tacksworn. Great shapes of dragons, griffons and ponies were formed and dashed against each other, flowing across the sky like water, as ancient battles played out. There was Discord, and there was the Sundering, the battle of the griffon clans... and then Chip realized he was watching the history of Tacksworn itself. His new father, depicted in brightly lit thunderheads, swirled effortlessly around a diamond dog, a pony and a griffon, until the four came together into a shapeless mass which was swiftly reformed into a replica of the town itself. Chip could hear the applause from below, and stomped his own hooves in appreciation.

He'd turned away at that point to refill his plate from the buffet table. A tug on his tail made him turn his head, muzzle full of quartz, to look up into the eyes of Sharptooth.

"You'll want to see this bit, my boy. I think you'll enjoy it, you and your little friend both."

"Whaffat?" Chip mumbled, swallowing a good deal of his mouthful of food whole. Wincing from cramp as it refused to go down, he beat himself in the chest with a hoof before trying to talk again. "What? Why's that?"

"Just look." Sharptooth's great blunt muzzle was almost unreadable. Chip furrowed his brow in confusion but turned as he was bid to watch the next part of the show. There were two massive shapes fighting, their forms little but masses of cloud, lit by lightning. Slowly, Chip realized they were dragons. Around them swirled an alicorn, shooting fireballs from his...

"That's... that's me!" Chip exclaimed, spitting out what had been a mouthful of gravel. Chip watched, spellbound, as the alicorn that he now recognized as himself with the helmet and wings he had worn, slammed into the two dragons in a final shower of thunder and burst of coloured lightning and fireworks. As the smoke cleared, the wall of storm clouds that had been kept at bay exploded over the town and obliterated the tableau, to thunderous applause.

"But... but... why?"

Sharptooth grinned. "They need new material, son, to keep the show interesting. That little display will be repeated all over Equestria, wherever this weather caravan goes."

"And nopony will have the slightest idea what it is, will they?"

"Probably not. They'll think it Celestia or Luna, most likely. After all, there are very few ponies with wings and a horn."

Chip sighed. "I miss my wings."

"So did I, whilst I was healing. Mayhaps you should design new ones? We can take a look in my library tomorrow. I have some books which you may find interesting. I do recall that your first pair of wings, whilst an unqualified success, did mainly lead you downwards. I think a proper pair of wings should take you up as well. And that requires a power source."

"I know, b-but I'm not a unicorn!"

"No, you're a dragon. A long time ago, a dear friend of mine worked on something truly amazing, centuries ahead of its time. Only now is it beginning to see application. You've probably not heard of him; his name was Bevelmeiter, and he made exactly what you're looking for."

Chip shared a glance with Carmine, whose eyes shone in the semi-darkness.

"No more falling with style, eh?" joked the griffon, neck-feathers ruffling up with surprise.

"Oh, no, miss Carmine. With Bevelmiter tubes, young Chip will be flying for real."

Chip stood on the edge of the plateau, looking down at the town of Tacksworn. Actual flight was being promised. He could hardly believe it, but then again his life was lots of things he wouldn't have believed, a year ago. Winter was here, but couldn't have felt better about it. Life was good, and this close to Hearth's Warming, he was glad.

Maybe everything really would turn out for the best, Chip reasoned. Maybe he could relax, enjoy things, and begin to hope that whatever passed for normal would come his way.

Yup, everything was going to be perfect.

♠♣♥♦

Author's Note

So, a long-awaited chapter I've decided to push out in order that I can work on the second half of for... well, probably next weekend if truth be told. I'm (as usual) not entirely happy with this chapter, but I've struck what I hope is a sensible balance between faffing around with it and actually giving you something to read in a manner which is meaningful and moves the story forwards. Looking back on my story, I can see where I really need to improve, where I really have issues that need fixing, where even modes of speech have changed (I'm looking at you, Ruff). Forgive me for my transgressions, dear reader, it just goes to show that I am (mostly) human and fallible. And a dreadful hack.

Anyway, enjoy.

A Roc And A Hard Place - Part 2

♠♣♥♦ King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
════════════════════

Chapter 25
A Roc and a Hard Place
Part 2
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

♠♣♥♦

Agent Bentgrass had a nose for trouble. He could also smell dark magic at two hundred paces and unwashed troll at five, so he was in no danger of losing his quarry.

That was, at least, until the thestral showed up, dropping out of the deep blue sky like the chirpiest of bat-winged rainclouds. Bentgrass had once belonged to the Nightguard, and as an agent in Division Six of the R.I.S, thestrals weren't exactly uncommon in his line of work, but of all the things he'd expected to see in Leviathania, the oddball part-bat equines hadn't got a look-in.

"Prithee tell me," asked the thestral smugly, his voice the texture of honeyed silk, "where dost thine legs taketh thee in such haste?"

"Get lost," Bentgrass growled out the side of his muzzle at the intruder. "I'm busy. And you can drop the Ye Olde Equestrian affectations. It doesn't work on me. Neither does giving me the stink-eye." The grubby white stallion increased in speed, but the thestral didn't seem overly bothered, travelling as he was several feet up in the air, backwards, lazily sculling his broad wings. The infernal creature was grinning, Bentgrass noted with ire, and the thestral's ears were flicking about with mirth.

"Oh Romu—" it began.

"And don't. Use. That. Name." Bentgrass growled, eyes fixed on the middle distance. For a second, Cherry thought they seemed to shine as if wet. "I gave it up when I… left." The agent ground his teeth, and for just a moment, his bottom lip quivered. Bentgrass had been left, and it wasn't Luna, the matriarch of the thestrals, he was talking about.

Cherry silently swooped under an awning then aileron-rolled across to the opposite side of the crowded street. When he once again spoke to Bentgrass, his tone and gaze were both somber. "Forgive me. I spoke in jest, and the evidence of your heartfelt pain is clear. There are so few of us yet. Faith I would not lose a single one."

"I remember the flock. I don't remember you, though." Bentgrass' eyes narrowed. He didn't look up at the thestral and concentrated instead on avoiding passers-by, jinking past out-thrust nicknacks and gewgaws as a myriad of creatures tried selling to him, and jumping over carts that half or sometimes fully blocked the street.

Cherry grinned despite the snub as he weaved above and around the haphazard mishmash of stalls. "Then introductions are in order. You may call me Cherry Pie, for all I go by a different name in official documents. Stuffy, straight-laced things that they are."

Bentgrass looked up in surprise at the thestral. "Cherry Pie? Really?"

Cherry stuck a tongue out. "Correct. Oh, and you should really think about ducking." Cherry pointed with a hoof and jerked his head forwards.

Bentgrass turned his gaze forwards again, growled, and rolled under a lumbering, glowing-eyed trollish creature as it haphazardly thundered up the street towards them. As he passed a few delicate organs, Bentgrass jabbed with his hooves in a few strategic places. There was a high-pitched, strained "yelp!" and the creature stumbled, clutching paws to its groin.

Cherry, for his part, was less playful, and simply slashed with a wing, sending a greenish torrent of ichor spewing forth against a wall as he neatly sliced the creature's neck in two. Cries of annoyance were swiftly lost behind them as the two sped onwards.

"He won't be bothering us again. Doesn't have the head for it," quipped Cherry, a few moments later.

Bentgrass groaned and rolled his eyes as they weaved past a number of colourful stalls and their furiously vending occupants. "Must you? And must you follow me? I'm undercover."

"You're disobeying a superior is what you're doing. I heard the instructions to you."

"Stop interfering!" cried Bentgrass, leaning to one side, skidding his back-end around and careening up another road.

Cherry took a more direct route, flapping his mighty wings to rise above the buildings before dropping back down to rejoin the agent. He grinned cheekily and sculled backwards in the air in front of the agent. "I believe that's my line. Leave this place."

"I can't. It's my job, Cherry," Bentgrass snarled, his ears splaying back against his skull. He grit his teeth. "I swore to protect Equestria against all enemies, foreign and domestic. You took the same oath." Between hoof-beats, the agent jabbed a forehoof at the thestral accusingly.

"Aye, soldier, I took that oath. And another, as you know well." Gone was the levity in the thestral's voice. His expression was grim, and his gaze distant. The words he spoke next were level and calm. "It is in the service of both that I now request of you: stay out of this."

Stalls and shops blurred past as the pair continued their frenzied dash through the city, and Bentgrass showed no sign of stopping. For a few long moments, he showed no sign of having heard, but then he spoke. "You know I can't do that." Bentgrass jutted out his lower jaw, scowling.

"So be it." Cherry's demeanour didn't change. His expression barely even flickered as the thestral pulled ahead, leading the way. Agent Bentgrass locked all four legs and skidded to a halt in surprise and the thestral drew far ahead. He looked back the way he'd come, remembering the pile of meat that had only minutes before been a troll and was now doubtless becoming a meal for the more adventurous wyverns in the city, then back at the thestral.

"What's the catch?" Bentgrass called, as Cherry swooped up and over to hover once more before the agent. He turned carefully to watch the airborne pest, then looked out over the city. Somewhere ahead, through the bunting and past the communal fountains, his quarry was getting away. And other hunters were gaining on them. He turned his head again and fixed his gaze on the thestral. Bentgrass' entire mission would hinge on this moment.

"No catch."

The two head-strong ponies glared at each other, but Bentgrass looked away first. Cherry was sincere. "Go on," he said, quietly.

"There's no catch, but I'm not letting you out of my sight. If our purposes do cross, then there will be a reckoning, though until then… I would aid a former brother in staying safe."

Bentgrass took a deep breath, pacing around the cramped market street. "You mean if I learn something you deem… sensitive," Bentgrass waved a hoof experimentally, then polished a dusty model of some palace or other, ignoring the hawker that demanded he now buy it, "then you will be forced to reel me in. I know the drill. I know how ponies sometimes disappear. It wouldn't even be difficult," Bentgrass added, looking around at the secluded streets with the dark cul-de-sacs at every turn. "Not out here with all these dragons and goodness-knows-what."

Cherry was hovering almost silently. He nodded, solemnly. His stark honesty was almost as chilling as the expression in his eyes. "Unless you can be persuaded of the greater need for… discretion, shall we say?" His tone was light, but there was menace behind his words; not so much a threat as a promise.

"Cherry, I serve Equestria." Bentgrass backed away, ears flat against his head, pawing the ground.

Cherry thrust his head forwards, his muzzle mere inches from Bentgrass. He bared his fangs. "As do I!" Looking away, as if ashamed of his outburst, the thestral landed, fidgeting with his wings before he continued speaking in a softer tone. "Trust me. Trust in the system. Has either princess ever led you astray?"

Bentgrass turned from Cherry and looked back the way they'd come, down the crowded street full of hawkers and vendors going blithely about their business, or in some cases packing away merchandise and sharpening weapons. To Bentgrass' relief, most of the angry muttering was directed at the trolls, not him or Cherry. "No," he said, finally. "But I don't like it."

Cherry was silent for a moment, then he seemed to come to a decision. "Very well. Should it become necessary, I promise you full disclosure. I am confident you will see my side of things." The thestral drew a cross on his chest, then held his hoof out to the agent.

"Agreed." Bentgrass lifted his forehoof and pressed it to the other's with a resounding clop. Fraternal moment over, he dropped it. Turning his head, he sniffed. "This way. It's Bentgrass now, for your information, first name Agrostis. So, are you going to tell me what we're chasing?" The earth stallion with the one strange, yellow eye started to gather speed once more.

"Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness?" Cherry replied, his fangs showing whitely through his broad grin. He took off into the air to follow with an extra amount of swagger.

"Glib. A better answer, if you please."

"There is no better answer, Agent Bentgrass. If you require a more immediate answer however, then mayhaps you will be happy with two words: changelings and trolls – with the former being the more, ah, immediate, should we say. Very immediate. Two of them are currently above us."

"I know." Bentgrass snarled through his teeth. "They're on the roofs, trying to outflank us. The only reason they've not attacked yet is they likely saw what we did to their pack mate back there."

"Alley oops?" Cherry suggested, clopping his two forehooves together and lifting them for a moment.

Bentgrass nodded. "Let's switch. I'll take the left, you the right." So saying, Bentgrass leaped onto a hapless produce-sellers cart, and back-flipped off. As he somersaulted through the air past the irate vendor, who was screaming about the damage to his cabbages, Cherry swooped down, slammed all four metal-shod hooves into the ground, slid in under the earth pony and then bounced back up again with one strong swoop of his wings. Bentgrass was propelled up to the top of the two-story building on the opposite side of the market, where he didn't waste a moment and accelerated into a dead gallop. Cherry rocketed straight upwards, stalled, then nose-dived down in a tight corkscrew. Several hundred pounds of spiked, armoured thestral impacted with a dirty brown troll which was still staring upwards in shock.

KABOOM!

The roof of the building all but vaporized under the impact, and a huge plume of dust and debris burst across the street out of the shattered windows. There was another series of explosions, and a roughly thestral-shaped lump of metal unfolded itself through the front siding of yet another building. Almost apologetically, the buildings behind the bat-winged force of nature collapsed into themselves amidst a haze of dust and rubble. Cherry shook himself clean then turned his gaze towards the opposite side of the street, where Bentgrass was cocking his head to one side and setting his shoulders for impact. The brief bright flash of an empty vial in the sunlight spat rainbows across the street, before everything was covered in a generous helping of dust.

KA-WHUMP!

The grubby white stallion slammed into his own target and kept on moving… right through the third floor of the next building and then over the crumpling body as he checked it into the ground. Jinking to one side, Bentgrass plowed straight through a supporting wall. From there, the building next to him similarly crumbling to pieces, he made a single long leap for the ground, barely even slowing down.

"Comes in useful sometimes, being an earth pony," grunted Bentgrass, spitting mortar from his mouth and sneezing it out his nose. "Though I can't imagine myself doing that without a Zebrican stoneskin potion." Bentgrass jerked his head at the shattered remains of a phial still visible in the rubble behind them.

"Luna's gift gave me wings like my mother, but her touch left me what my father gave me," answered Cherry, grinning weakly. "The enchanted armour helps, but 'tis mostly for the looks."

"We're both going to regret that little stunt, aren't we?" Bentgrass coughed and grinned, wheezing painfully.

"I shall be sore for weeks." Cherry slumped in the air, rubbing one wing ruefully. "I think, in future, we should obstruct rather than confront directly."

"Oh, so we are running interference for the main target!" Bentgrass crowed, galloping blithely through the scattering crowds as they fled the scene of destruction.

"When have trolls and changelings ever been the side to root for?" said Cherry, rolling his eyes derisively. He dipped in the air as he dodged a fleeing wyvern, managing to look bashful as he looked back at the devastation. "Granted, one day they may surprise me," he allowed, "but today, I can assure you, is not that day."

"One problem, Cherry," said Bentgrass, chewing his lip. "Stopping these trolls down here on the ground is all well and good, but what are we going to do about the changelings?"

"We aren't going to do anything about them since you cannot fly. We're going to have to trust in my flock-mate's abilities and that our young charges can hold their own."

Bentgrass' ears twitched. Curiouser and curiouser, he said to himself. He grinned thinly as they picked up the pace; he would unravel this mystery one hoofstep at a time. Changelings, dragons and trolls, hmm? Oh my.

♠♣♥♦

Penny's wings were starting to feel the burn now as Bella's spell wore off. A fully trained member of Equestria's Guard could pull incredible amounts of materiel for astounding distances through the skies. Penny was no guard, and the frantic pace was catching up with her. Soaring and gliding was one thing, but powering at speed without a break wasn't something she was used to. Her armour was chafing as she was starting to sweat. She'd thought about asking Bella for a pick-me-up boost to the weight spell, but from the brief glances behind that she'd managed to steal, she'd seen that her friend was looking drained too. Wingbeats perked up her spirits, and she called out to her two griffon friends.

"Oh, thank Celestia and Luna you two are back. I was starting to get wor—AAIIIEEEEE!" Penny's relieved commentary became an ear-splitting shriek as the wing beats that powered in from the side proved to belong to neither of the two griffons but to a green and scaly almost-dragon.

With a sinuous, long neck and a snapping, razor-toothed beak - and only two hind legs and wings - wyverns were a distinctive sight in the skies above Leviathania. It latched onto Penny's llight armour and hissed before sinking its fangs through the reinforced, riveted leather and into her hide. The pegasus screeched again as the wyvern ripped and tore at her barding, tearing great rents in the modified crinet that extended down her neck past her wings and the crupper which protected her hind quarters.

"Get away from her, you—!" There was a sudden flare of green fire, and it became the wyvern's turn to scream. It dropped groundwards, batting at the magefire plasma ball that surrounded it.

"Phew. Thanks, B," said Penny, voice quavering.

"Don't thank me yet! We're still not home free."

"Well, almost."

"But that doesn't change the fact that— We've got more incoming! Dodge!" Bella lowered her horn again and let loose another volley of flame that passed mere inches above Penny's head, and another that sped off to the left. The attacking wyverns screeched indignantly, and then their forms seemed to flicker as the astonished unicorn watched, their green scales becoming hard, black chitin. When their true gossamer wings replaced the leathern wings of the wyverns they'd first appeared to be, the changelings became that much more maneuverable. Now their blue eyes burned brightly and they hissed in pleasure at the fright blooming on their quarries' faces.

"Penny!" screamed Bella as one once more latched on to her friend. It's twisted, angular horn glowed and the strange creature seemed to breathe in. A strange, purple-greenish glow began to flow from the pegasus and into the creature's mouth. Slumping, Penny's wingbeats faltered, and the cart lost speed.

"Don't! Keep going! You can do it! We can do it! Don't let them get to you!" hollered Bella as she let loose another yet another volley of fireballs. The changeling that was sucking on Penny's lifeforce like an ugly, four-legged bloated tick was blasted free. It spun and whirled away behind them. Another fireball - so much smaller than the previous that Bella almost wept - passed harmlessly between three more changelings, but she cheered when her peptalk was enough to spur Penny on.

"I don't... doubt it... for a... minute!" huffed Penny, redoubling her efforts.

"You can do it! I believe in you! Believe in me!" screamed Bella, gritting her teeth and pouring her energy into her horn, powering through the growing, thumping headache to loose off another round. The changelings scattered again, but one latched on to the unicorn with its spindly, disjointed legs. It lunged at Bella, sucking toothlessly as the same purplish-green glow flowed into it from her. She snarled wordlessly and lunged with her horn at it's face, puncturing something in its muzzle. It screeched and fell off and behind, then was torn to shreds by a roaring bundle of griffon-shaped energy.

"Well, you're going to have plenty of chances to prove it," growled Bethany, picking bits of bug out of her metal-shod claws. "Get your war muzzle on, girl," ordered the griffon in her best approximation of a diamond dog. "We've got company." She pointed ahead where several more groups of now-obvious changelings advanced on their position.

"Less than a minute to the ship, B. You keep up the firepower and I'll keep up the go-go juice."

There was a sudden loud, trumpeting cry, and two sets of wings and talons dropped out of the sky, slamming into the two nearest changelings. Beaks pecked, tore and ripped at their prey, sending them tumbling end over end towards the ground. Looping up and around, Bethany and Carmine once more flanked the little cart. They were breathing heavily, and were both bleeding from numerous scratches, but they were otherwise hale and hearty.

"Go, team!" cheered Penny weakly, pumping a forehoof into the air. All four shared a grin.

"No time for lollygagging," harrumphed Carmine. "We've got to get to the airship. According to Chip, it's off limits to… Akhekhu, did he say?"

"We better hope it is," grumbled Bethany, "because otherwise all this is for—"

"Incoming!" screeched Penny suddenly, cutting the griffon off as she wheeled and dove.

"Luna take me to the palace of the stars--" whimpered Bella silently from the back of the cart. Bethany squawked something untranslatable and physically impossible, feathers akimbo as she spun and snatched with her claws at the new targets. Carmine peeled off and turned in behind to come back up from below as six more changelings made their attack. Tossing one shredded changeling aside, Bethany flipped upside down, locked her talons and hindpaws on two of the six and slammed their heads together before hurling them towards the ground. Two more of the six then grabbed her, biting and clawing as they fouled her wings. With barely a cry, she started to fall, fluttering helplessly towards Carmine - who was similarly flailing.

Despair welled in them both as they began hurtling groundwards, but suddenly a purple and grey blur hammered past at great speed. In the blink of an eye, it scored a direct hit on two of the creatures, dislocating their wings and shredding membranes. If it hadn't been for their incredibly tough exoskeleton, the interloper would most likely have shattered the changelings' bones and pulverized their internal organs; whoever-it-was was that fast. Blurring past in another deadly attack run mere moments after the first, the newcomer sliced off a wing of yet another changeling before vanishing into the hazy skies.

Suddenly freed, the two griffons spread their wings, arrested their descent and began to rise.

"What was—?" Carmine began but had to break off and scatter as a plume of what could only be described as white-hot dragonfire speared through the nearby final group of attackers, neatly immolating the two last changelings that were harrying Penny and Bella.

"You can thank me later," said a remarkably refined and calm voice to the four brave young warriors. The owner was bracketed by the blazing sun and all but invisible in the glare. "Just get yourselves and your prize to safety."

"It's, uh, with Chip," whispered Penny.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up! Don't tell him that! He's the one from the train! They tried to take it from us!" hissed Carmine, her neck feathers fluffing out as she sized up the intruder. He may have saved their lives, but he was still an unknown quantity.

"My lady, plans have changed. And if your information is true, it is unfortunate. I had hoped we would see a favourable resolution. Still, all is not yet lost. Be assured, my mistress no longer wishes to possess your bauble for herself. She only wishes that our common enemies do not. Now go! Fly, you fools!" Leathery wings flapped hard, and whatever it was accelerated at an inequine speed away towards a distant group of changelings and fresh blood.

"What was—?" began Penny, breathlessly, squinting at the receeding dot. She shook her head in wonder. There was no time to waste, even over their enigmatic saviour. She resumed her laboured flapping towards the ship. She could cry, it was such a beautiful sight. It loomed ahead of them now, blotting out the sun.

"I don't know," replied Bella, "but I think he's on our side."

"Don't look a gift… whatever-that-is in the mouth. Let's book!" crowed Carmine.

Bella hurled another ball of fire at some distant changelings. She was exhausted, yet triumphant. The creatures scattered in confusion as it passed, unsure whether to simply flee the mysterious stranger which now threatened to permanently thin their ranks, or to switch targets and fight him. Either way, they were too far to stop their targets from achieving their desires.

Bella cheered silently as the two griffons and two ponies circled the ship. Moments later, however, the cheer changed to a blood-curdling scream as she found herself hanging on for dear life.

Penny had learned about a comfortable approach from her school instructors but had decided she was having none of it. she'd learned about speed from Hairpin, and that suited her just fine. She whooped for joy as she flew almost vertically down the envelope, going into a tight turn to level out as they approached the doors. Breathing heavily, she airbraked with her wings to park, hovering outside, flapping her wings gently with steam rising from her flanks. Unceremoniously, the two griffons ponyhandled the scared-rigid unicorn out of the cart and all but shoved her horn into the lock.

"Open it, or we're done for!" hissed Carmine.

"Opening! Keep your feathers on!" snapped Bella before grumbling a few choice, unrepeatable words under her breath. Moments later, the entryway slid open, and almost before the steps had finished reforming, all four were inside and hammering at the runic gemstone for them to close again, the cart barely fitting and left tilted on one side in the hallway. There then followed a mad dash through the ship towards the two bridges, the aft of which was pointed back the way they had come, as the girls fought to both get a look and prepare for boarders. All four of the girls pressed their beaks and muzzles up against the bay glass windows as they scanned for interlopers. Off in the distance, their mysterious benefactor was again spewing lances of fire at dotted groups of changelings.

"What is he? Another Chip?" asked Penny.

"No, no, that's magic. That's… bottled dragonfire. I can taste the magic from it," said Bella.

"A prince? Like Luna or Celestia?"

"No horn," interjected Carmine, "and his wings are wrong. Look how he flies! It's… well, that's not a pegasus. That's not a normal pony at all. He's not like Chip, but he's not a pegasus or an alicorn either."

"Waaiittt," said Bethany. "I've… heard of these guys. There are stories, old stories… and a few new ones now that Luna has returned. She… she has her own guard. They're different. You don't think...?" The golden-hued griffon peered out of the windows speculatively.

"What, he's working for Luna? Oh stars, we are in so much trouble!" squeaked Bella. "Celestia would just banish us to the moon for a thousand years. Luna? She'll… turn us into pot plants or something!"

"Relax," scoffed Bethany. "If he'd wanted us potted he'd have done it himself. You heard him; his mistress – whoever she is – doesn't want either that staff that Ruff's been carrying around, or those skulls. And he's doing his best to make sure Chip gets here safely. Which we should totally be helping with, by the way. So come on! Get your butts in gear! This junk's gotta still be ticking over, or the lights would be off! That means we've got ammo! we've got weaponry! Time for us to get serious!" The grin on Bethany's beak would have been frightening at any other time, but right now… they all shared the sentiment.

♠♣♥♦

We're almost there. Not long now. We're almost there. Just a little further. The mental litany was repetitive, but it helped calm his mind and keep his attention off the pain. It would have continued to were it not for two huge explosions that rocked the nearby buildings, one after another, just a few seconds apart. They were followed by the unmistakable sound of falling masonry. Chip swore under his breath as he looked up to see two whole buildings nearby seemingly disintegrate. Plumes of dust exploded through the streets, choking his nose and blinding his eyes. He whimpered from the pain as his injured leg and shoulder burned with every jolting impact from fleeing citizens and their thrice-damned mobile market stalls.

"What from Tartarus' rusty gates was that? More trouble?" He coughed, wheezing, as the air became thick with particulates.

"Ruff think not for us," his canine passenger replied, coughing and spitting. "Our trouble drop buildings on us. Ruff think that trouble drop buildings on our trouble."

Stumbling and almost falling flat on his face as he impacted with a low wall he hadn't seen through the grime, Chip howled in pain as he fought to stay upright.

"Hope you're right," he gasped. "Cover's blown. Can't stay... down here. Don't know if... can run much further. Time to fly," he mumbled, his words almost gibberish even to his own ears. So saying, Chip spread his wings, leaped, and came crashing down. "I can't!" he wailed, tears streaming from his eyes as he felt his ankle twist. "My legs… I can't. I can't keep up this speed! I… I can't do it!" He leaped again, but it was little more than a half-hearted hop.

"Ruff say Chip can do it. Wings okay, yes?"

"Uh huh, but… winded!"

"Know how Ruff catch up so quick before, with changeling-troll?"

"Uh-uh." Chip shook his head, wincing as pain flared in his neck. He spat, tasting blood again.

"Ruff stone talker. Stone everywhere. Ready for a boost? Going up!" Ruff closed his eyes, balled his fists, and then slammed them together. Under his hooves, Chip felt the ground swell and surge, and a massive slab of rock erupted from beneath him. It slammed into him, almost knocking the breath out of his body. He felt it accelerate him, pummeling him skywards. Laughing for joy - a strained, weak laugh, it's true, but a laugh none the same - he spread his wings, and flapped. To his amazement, he felt them bite, and he gained altitude. Spitting a mixture of blood and flame as he shifted his attention to his ever-faithful Bevelmiter engines, he flapped his magitech wings laboriously to gain height.

As the city dropped away beneath them, there were a number of similar rumbling demolitions, and plumes of dust rose up, leading in a clear line towards where they'd just been. Whoever it was, they'd either been following the trio, or they'd been following whoever it was who had been. The trio, however, had got clean away.

A mournful howl echoed across the city, and Chip answered it with a derisive, hooting roar and a brief spurt of flame. Seemingly at once, dark, winged shapes appeared out of the surrounding mesa to converge on their position. Ruff growled, and punched Chip in the withers.

"Don't look now, boss, but I think you just put us back on the menu," added Ivan, doing his best facepalm using a digit that didn't have a palm.

"Sorry," rumbled Chip, coughing and spitting another wad of flame. It sailed away on the wind to land a direct hit on one of the converging beasties. Said creature screamed, batted at the resultant flare-up and fell out of the sky.

"Only one thing left to do now, boss," piped up Ivan. "We gotta move fast. Get to the ship, get away."

"Ship far. Think we make it?" asked Ruff plaintively, clutching reflexively at the staff he held in his paws.

"That's the least of our worries," rumbled Chip, his voice thick with molten lava phlegm. "You've still go to make sure you've had a nice chat with the merchandise. I just make the ship go. You and B have got to point it in the right direction."

"No offence kid, but you'se gotta even get there first. Worry about the to when you've got away with the from, eh? And thems what you're running away from look like they're not happy wid the idea."

Chip grit his teeth, wings flapping as hard as he could make them. Flames spurted from between his lips as he strained to pick up speed and altitude. Bella's spell was failing, so with every wingbeat it was getting harder and harder to keep the pace.

"I know! Don't tell me what I already know!" Tears streaked from his eyes as the pain caught up with him. He almost fell out of the sky when his wings seized up as one especially powerful wave of agony shot through his body.

"Then…" Ruff said, once Chip had levelled off. "Ruff want to know… you seen what's following?"

Chip turned his head, Ruff leaning out the way as the plume of smoke from Chip's mouth almost engulfed him.

"What is that." Chip's voice was flat and level, somewhere between rage and fear, as he glared daggers at a large, black shadow that was rapidly gaining behind them.

"Ruff not know, but it gaining. And… ship have lots of things outside it. Ruff pretty sure none of them are the girls."

"Hate to say this, boss, but you're hosed. You're not gonna make it."

For the first time, Chip felt despair wash over him. He felt so heavy and large, so ponderous… but now he thought about it, he didn't feel weak. He felt… dormant. He felt like he was somehow resting. He felt huge, ponderously so. Chip's brow furrowed; something was new, something he'd somehow forgotten about. It was a familiar feeling, and as the ship ahead grew nearer and nearer, it was intensifying. All of a sudden, he understood. Almost instantly, the feeling of despair was chased away by a new feeling of elation. They might make it after all.

"Ivan," said Chip levelly, "I'm gonna ask you to do something—"

"Stow it. I've got wings. I'll be alright, and you can do without the weight. I'll take a few of the smaller guys down for ya, but even so, I don't think it's gonna be enough."

"It'll be enough." Chip grinned now, through the pain.

"It too far!" howled Ruff.

"It would be... if our fully functional airship didn't have engines!"

♠♣♥♦

The airship lurched, throwing Penny into one wall as she made her way to the Wing Motion Gun chamber.

"Split primaries and flayed feathers! What the hell was that? Chip, I wish you were here! We need to—"

"Penny!?" came a voice from one of the wall-mounted speakers. It was barely audible, but understandable.

"Chip?" exclaimed Penny, casting her head about. "What in the nine realms...?"

"Penny! I can… I heard you…"

"Where are you? Onboard?"

"No, I'm…" the voice dropped off as Chip stopped directly addressing her to instead swear profusely at something only he could see, his voice fading in and out. Then it strengthened again. "I can feel the ship," he explained. "As I get closer, I can feel her more and more. When I powered her up, I… linked her to me, the same way I linked my wings. Tell me it's working?"

"You can what!?" shouted Penny, eyes wide.

"I'm moving the ship. Can't talk—" Chip's voice faded out again for a moment then suddenly returned. "—ome towards us. Some big bastard is gaining. You gotta get it off me. You gotta move the ship into position then fire the big gun!"

"We're tied down! You can't move the ship, I've gotta get us off the mooring spire first, or you'll pull it with you!"

"I'll take that chance. We're not gonna make it otherwise."

"Horseapples!" swore Penny. Then she hammered a comms construct on the wall and yelled out, "Bella! Get the ship off the tower! It's moving!"

"No shit!" came the reply from the bridge. "We heard all that. We felt it, too. Doing our best! You just get to the big gun!"

There was a sudden surge as the drive engines kicked in. "I hope your best is good enough," Penny muttered. She picked up her hooves and hammered down the corridor to a door she knew well. Throwing it open, she entered the weapon chamber and strapped herself in. "WMG online. Firing when ready." The pegasus fought to keep her wings steady. Who knew how sensitive this thing was?

"Acknowledged."

♠♣♥♦

Bella waved her horn at the complicated bank of rune-inscribed crystals, and a number of them lit up. There was an echoing crash and the ship lurched again. Outside, debris rained down into the streets as guide-ropes snapped and restraining gantries tore free from their moorings. With a creaking, groaning cacophony of tortured metal, the Great Harmony took flight. Bethany and Carmine dashed from control bank to control bank trying desperately to release the last of the restraints. Ponderously, but gaining speed, the Great Harmony floated above the city towards Chip and Ruff, shedding debris as it went.

Down near the engine room, the intercom crackled into life as the secondary bridge contacted weapon control.

"Penny, we need you!" cried out Bella, one claw pressed desperately against the radio button.

"I'm ready!" Penny called back.

"Fire it!"

"But what about Chip—?"

"Just fire it! Now!" shouted Bella.

"Goddess watch over them," muttered Penny. She pulled on the hoof restraint straps with her mouth, unfurled her wings, and flapped.

♠♣♥♦

"You going to do what!?" shouted Ruff.

"I said I'm going to move my ship."

"No, no, no… you do that, you're just asking to get boarded!" yelled Ivan.

"Don't worry about that. The girls have got things in hoof," Chip replied, grinning around his pain. "And it's not just any airship; it's a battleship. The pride of the fleet."

Ivan whistled, clicking his antennae together. "Somebody's going to be mad in the morning."

"Which is another reason we've got to get out of here. And the reason that you have got to get out of here now. Ruff and I, we've got no choice. You've got to get back and look after Hairpin. You're her valet, right?"

Ivan looked down at the ground then at the swarm of black, chitinous creatures heading their way.

"I don't envy you, boss."

"Get going, bug."

Ivan clicked his mandibles once, saluted, and let go. He dropped like a stone, twirling in the slipstream as he fell towards the city.

"Almost home free," said Chip, returning the salute to their guide.

"Not to be counting rabbits before skinning, Chip," said Ruff darkly, pointing behind them.

"I don't want to look, do I?" huffed Chip. The answering roar from something large and regrettably close confirmed his suspicions.

"Ruff doing what can!" the troll shouted, waving his one free paw about. Chip could feel the flare and flash of the pup's magic. It left a metallic, tinny taste in his mouth. A distant ticking mixed with screeches and the whiz of shrapnel spoke volumes about Ruff's growing ability with stone. The pup was pulling pieces off the buildings as they passed and hurling them at their enemies. From the continued roaring behind them though, it was only having limited success.

"Don't look back!" Ruff shouted. "Just fly!"

"How big is it?" roared Chip, eyeing the growing shape of the Great Harmony. His lungs ached, his vision was blurry and it felt like his entire body was on fire. Worse, it felt like his fire was going out. He hadn't been without fire for almost a year, and found the idea frightening. If they didn't make it to safety soon, they weren't going to make it at all.

"It big!" the pup replied.

"Bigger than us?"

"Much."

Chip dared a look back, and his gaze was caught by the ferocious, empty stare of a gigantic bird of prey. Its beak was serrated and its gaze reptilian, the head extended on a longish thin neck. Its claws glinted in the sun as it screeched in rage.

Chip drew a sharp breath, then was silent for a moment before speaking calmly to Ruff. "I… want to say thanks. If we don't get out of this, thanks."

"What?" yelped Ruff, peering fearfully over his shoulder as he continued his projectile assault on the roc. "What you doing? Chip? Chip?!" Ruff turned to face forwards and whimpered. His ears flattened back against his head and he grabbed even tighter at Chip's mane. Ahead was the Great Harmony. Its engines hummed loudly as it powered towards them. Worryingly, the large, silver, forbidding turret of quite possibly the largest cannon Ruff had ever seen was pointed directly towards them. For a moment, the entire world seemed to breathe in… but that was just the Wing Motion Gun priming itself.

Not that this was a good thing, mused Ruff.

Moments later, with the full fury of the tempest, the cannon fired. With an explosion that was far more felt than heard, the gun spat out a gargantuan whirlwind. In desperation, Chip brought in his wings and dived straight down the eye of the storm.

The world tilted and whirled crazily, earth and sky becoming jumbled in a mass of confusing colours and sensations. All sound had ceased the moment the cannon had fired, replaced with a single, high-pitched tone and a crushing pain in the ears.

His stomach emptied itself as Ruff hung on for dear life, the sick mercifully vanishing somewhere behind and away. Chip was spinning, dead in the air. Not knowing quite what to do, but knowing something had to be done, the pup yanked on a wing, halting the tumble. The sudden jolted brought his ride awake, and the draconic stallion spread both wings, pulled up, and soared into a sky suddenly bereft of changelings and of ominously large flying creatures — other than Chip, of course. Distantly, there came an indignant screeching cry and an almighty crash as something very large and very heavy impacted with the ground. Ruff wasn't sure whether whatever-it-was was going to get up again or not, but chances were they'd be well away before it got airborne.

"Do Ruff one favour?" the pup whined.

"What's that?"

"Never do that again."

"I'll see what I can do. Can you spot our friend?"

Ruff nodded as Chip glanced back. "Can see. Not pretty."

"What a pity."

"Ruff think it good idea we leave. Now."

"I couldn't agree more."

At the firing of the Wing Motion Gun, the changelings swarming around the airship had scattered. A few braver individuals darted closer, to be picked off by Ruff's flying shrapnel and what was, at this point, flaming wads of molten blood from Chip.

Looping under the airship, weaving between dangling guide-ropes and semi-attached girders, Chip headed for the cargo bay hatch. It was still reeling open when he sped through it to come to a quick, short stop in some cargo netting. Breathing heavily, he floundered about for a moment then laid his head down.

"Ruff," he said weakly, "get the headpiece to the bridge. Do what you've got to do, but get us out of here. Jump as soon as you can. I'm taking us up, but I'm done."

"Ruff on it," the pup said. He disentangled himself from Chip's mane and dug around inside the dragon's pannier bags. Pulling out their grisly prize, the pup then scampered off towards the bridge.

For almost a minute after the pitter-patter of Ruff's tiny paws had died away, Chip didn't move. Then he dragged himself to his hooves and moved towards the still-open hatch. There was only one thing left to be done before they could jump, and Chip was going to do it come hell or high water. Gesturing, he bid the hatch open fully. Walking right up to the edge, he stood and surveyed the city below him as he took the ship upwards. The changeling swarm was back, and mushroom-like clouds of debris strewn amongst the buildings spoke of more trolls, but none of them could stop him now.

Summoning his rage, he felt it boil inside him until it bubbled around his ears and threatened to spill over. Then he took a deep breath, swelled his chest, and roared.

"I am Chiphoof Irontail Leatherback of the Diamond Expanse!" he yelled into the aether, his voice echoing across the city. "I seek the treasure of the diamond dog king! And I will find it! And then, Akhekhu, I WILL FIND YOU!"

The changelings were closer now, close enough that a group of them shied back from his lance of flame. But one group accelerated, heading for the open cargo bay.

"You really didn't want to do that," said Chip with a grin. The creatures didn't flinch, didn't slow and didn't change course, which wasn't altogether a wise move. Ruff and Bella, on the bridge, had just finished laying in the jump coordinates. Chip felt the systems engage, but held off for just a moment longer. That one moment was just long enough for the changelings to get almost close enough to get inside… but not quite.

The world lurched as the ship left Leviathania.

The changelings… didn't. Not quite.

There are, if the brutal truth be told, many terrible ways to die. One among those which is spoken of in hushed whispers is what happens when a translocation spell goes wrong. With a ship the size of the Great Harmony, the safety margin is large and well-defined — for those on the inside.

The changelings, however, were outside. As the ship left Leviathania on aethereal wings, space stretched in new and unfathomable ways. The translocation matrix formed a bridge between two points which weren't, technically, connected and the small, unfortunate group of creatures were treated to the unenviable position of having their bodies spread across thousands of miles of real space and an eternity of unreal space, all in one, long, unending instant.

Bidding the cargo hatch close, Chip turned away and fell to his knees… and then to the deck. Whatever was left wouldn't last long, not once time resumed for them at least. Until then, they would be stuck in an eternity of half-life as their essence was ripped asunder.

♠♣♥♦

Bentgrass lay on his side in the shattered remains of a stall that had been, thankfully, selling ornamental cushions. There were, all in all, worse places to end such a chase.

Somewhere above, there was an explosion. Something impossibly big and unlikely to be breathing landed somewhere nearby. Well, 'landed' was the wrong word. It implied control and a safe rate of descent. Not to mention a more graceful cessation of motion than that offered by sudden impact with the ground.

"I don't want to know, do I?" Bentgrass wheezed, trying hard to uncross his eyes.

"Not really." Cherry Pie was breathing heavily too. He was bleeding from a number of deep cuts which didn't look healthy, but he was alive. They both were, surprisingly.

"You know, that's one of the things I don't miss: the monster hunting. Luna's patrols were very rarely boring. I think I've learned to appreciate boring."

"Then, Agent Bentgrass, I shall leave you with plenty to bore you. Namely, the paperwork."

"Oh, no. No, no, no! You get to explain what all this was about. You get to tell me what I was chasing, and you get to tell me why Leviathania is full of trolls and changelings." Bentgrass tried to struggle to his hooves as Cherry backed into a darkened alley.

"My apologies, Agent, but you of all ponies should know how it must be."

"Get back here! Get...!" Bentgrass staggered into the alley then spun in a circle. It was devoid of everything but shadows, drainpipes and moss. "Luna's dusty cr—" Bentgrass ducked, then looked up guiltily. "Sorry," he mumbled. Biting on his lower lip, he listened for the approaching sound of leathery wings and the clip-clop of what sounded for all the world like deer. Collapsing somewhat theatrically to the floor as a group of badged perytons rounded the corner, he spat out a good mouthful of dust and debris. "Did… anypony get… the number of that cart?" he moaned, and closed his eyes.

With cries of attention and an almost military efficiency, the newcomers rushed to his aid, seeing to his injuries with globs of anaesthetic cream and antiseptic swabs. Gratefully — and truth be told, somewhat necessarily — he relaxed his limbs and allowed his body to go limp as they tended his wounds. It wouldn't get him out of the paperwork, but it would give him time to practice his alibi, and it would also mean he wouldn't have to walk back to his hotel. Having said that, it would probably be a good idea to be as gone as possible before nightfall; sooner or later, somedragon was going to start putting the unofficial reports together, and then things could get rather sticky for an Agent of the Equestrian Crown.

As they lifted him onto a stretcher, hooked up an IV and cast a few basic healing spells over his bruised and abused frame, Bentgrass began to smile. Maybe it was the painkillers taking effect, but suddenly the day didn't seem quite so bad.

Humming to himself happily, Bentgrass rolled off into the sunset. And to think, he told himself, that I was hoping things would have stopped at bad drinks and disappointment.

♠♣♥♦

Author's Note

Ah, to have a chapter to post after only a week, and to have it picked over by the awesome ferret, random, cal, jake and nyerguds. They're awesome for putting up with my stubborn ignorance when it comes to commas. I hope this whiz flash bang kapow double bill was to your liking, because I had a hell of a lot of fun writing it.

oh, and Fang was there too.

Under a Starry Sky

♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds

The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
══════════════════════════════════════

Chapter 1
Under a Starry Sky
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow

The sputtering oil-soaked torch flew through the air and landed with a soft thud on the roof of the hut. For a few seconds nothing happened, but then the flames caught on the dried grass. In what seemed like mere moments, many of the pony village's mud thatch dwellings were in flames. Hot red and yellow flames licked the clouds as with snarls and growls, the diamond dogs moved amongst the scattering herd. Teeth flashed and claws slashed, and bright red blood was spilled in the moonlight.

Life on the edges of Celestia's domain was harsh and dangerous, and the villagers of Crook Hoof were getting a painful reminder of that. However, the ponies on the edge of Celestia's domain were also harsh and dangerous. Roused into action, the villagers fought back; those with horns attempted to spear their enemies, or enchant them if they had the teachings. Those without merely used their hooves and teeth. Battle was joined.

The village was small and undefended, but the ponies were not without allies. As the skirmish raged and their homes burned, the great village horn was sounded. The single note was long and pure, and it echoed far and wide. Help would come, as had been pledged. On great leathery wings, the dragons would come and their territory would be defended.

♠♣♥♦

The raid had been planned audaciously and in great depth. Five of the strongest and most resourceful diamond dogs from the Cracked Hills pack had been picked to participate — or at least, went other whispers, those unlikely to be missed.

The cover of darkness was essential to the plan, but even then it would take a concerted effort from the rest of the pack to have even the smallest hope of victory. Their prey was notoriously dangerous and their prize was fleeting and rare. Centuries could pass before another chance like this came. With thunderheads rolling in and plunging the already-dark tundra into pitch black, things would never be better. This night was going to be perfect.

So it was that five lanky-limbed diamond dogs found themselves ascending a mountain in the chill autumn air. They moved swiftly, on all fours or on their hind legs as best suited by the terrain, traversing the scree with as much ease as when loping across the plains or digging through the Underdeeps.

Sparing a single glance to the distance, where fires signalled their diversion was well underway, Hunter grinned in the darkness and moved on to the true prize.

Like shadows retreating before noonday sun, the hunting party stole into the dragon's den with nary a glance over their shoulder. There was no more time for deliberating; now they would do, or they would die. The unspoken warrior's pact was forefront on their minds: everyone dies eventually, it only mattered how, and whether it was without fear.

The dragoness was old, past her prime, and tired from her labours. She had been sleeping fitfully on her nest ever since the laying. She reclined on a mound that was part hoard and part bedding. It was made of more gold, jewels and precious things than many royals saw in a lifetime - yet she was guarding within it the most precious treasure of all. Her eggs.

Hunter had struck first, driving his black lodestone pike deep into her eye. It had taken mere moments from when they had first snuck through the unguarded entrance to first blood, but with dragons, moments was all you could expect. Giving it a twist, the cold metal staff lodged against her eye-socket and was ripped from his paws. Hunter was thrown clear across the cave as she had reeled back in pain. It knocked the breath from him and cracked a few ribs as he slammed into the solid rock.

The dragoness spat fire and hissed, ripping two of their companions in twain. Her talons flashed mercilessly in the murky darkness, spattering blood and gore across the walls, ceiling and floor. In the commotion, Ranger dove in close and slid another pike deep into her belly even as she had bit into a third hapless hound, ending his life.

His pike, like all the others, was poison-tipped; dragons were notoriously immune to almost all magics and poisons so it wouldn't hold her for long, but perhaps long enough. She roared in pain and agony, spurting flame, blinded and dangerous. The diamond dogs leaped and bounded as far from her grasping talons as they could until the poison took effect, each hoping that the second jab had penetrated near enough to her heart to subdue the great beast.

Finally she collapsed in a heap, her lingering pain-wracked shudders as she fought for breath threatening to bring down not only the roof of the cavern, but the entire mountain peak. Defeated, she lay still, twitching and barely breathing.

The two remaining diamond dogs looked at each other, unable to hide the grins that split their muzzles. For a moment, there was silence, then the two trolls whooped and hollered, slapping each other on the back. The sounds of rejoicing just as quickly died down as Hunter put a paw to his lips.

"Come, take eggs, then we move," Hunter said, guttural voice as low and quiet as he could make it.

Ranger nodded, grinning, "We are victorious, brother!"

Hunter couldn't help but grin again, though he boxed the other's ears lightly in admonishment, "We live for now, but first we must escape."

"Must count dragons before they hatch, yes?"

They would have to move fast; the dragoness' battle-roars had echoed from sky to sea, and her mates would be returning with all haste. Trouble-making by other members of the pack elsewhere within the dragons' protected territories, poaching and general chaos, had led her mates away, but at her cries, they would return without delay. Things were rapidly going downhill, and the raid had already been far more successful than anticipated.

The two diamond dogs skittered around the moaning dragon, dodging her deadly claws as she fought against her weakness, seeking to disembowel them. She was angered and eager, but unable to overcome the poison.

They made quick work in the darkness, sacking not the hoard, but the nest. Gold and jewels were one thing to covet, but unborn dragon whelps... there was wealth untold. In minutes, their burlap sacks stuffed full of dragon eggs, the two remaining thieves finally made a run for it.

♠♣♥♦

The diamond dogs lumbered down the mountain, gathered loot thrown over their shoulders and pikes alternately gripped in teeth or paws as they ran three-legged from the flaming, spitting doom that was sure to be soon behind them.

"Must. Stop. Hunter!" puffed Ranger, swinging his bag of dragon-eggs to the ground in front of him, breath whistling and wheezing. They'd been thundering down the mountain path in the dark pell-mell, barely stopping to think, let alone breathe.

"No! No stop! No stop here, this dragon country!"

Suddenly, ear-shattering roars raised their hackles and sent new floods of adrenalin coursing through their veins. Picking up their prizes, the pair headed for a shallow rock-bed stream as silently but as quickly as possible — the water would mask their scent, but not the sounds of their splashing. The diamond dogs had a trick or two left, however; they had chosen this stream in particular because it featured a hidden cave behind the waterfall that could be found just a short ways upstream. Moving as swiftly as possible, not caring for the cold nor minor injuries from any sharp rocks encountered in the dark, they pressed on to what they could only hope was safety.

♠♣♥♦

Footsteps echoed softly through the cave. The ponies in the cage at the back flicked their ears up, eyeing the entrance warily. Sure enough, the diamond dogs had returned, but in far fewer numbers than they had left in.

Panting and cursing, the two diamond dogs dropped to their behinds, leaning back against the wall of the cave. They breathed heavily for a few moments, and then broke out laughing, sending barking yelps echoing throughout the small space.

"Hunter, we have prize!" Ranger exclaimed breathlessly.

"Ranger, big prize! Big, big prize!" Hunter replied, grinning like a maniac.

They punched each other heartily on the shoulders, wheezing and leaning against each other as they recovered. Outside, they heard the roaring and screeching, but it was angered and scattered.

They'd made it, they were home free.

The sacks were emptied in short order, and the eggs within were collected into a large pile. The hounds started drooling as they eyed their prize, but turned their heads at the gasps from further back in the cave.

"What in Equestria... dragon eggs? Oh goddess, they've got dragon eggs! You damned fools, you've doomed us all!" One pony said. He was a stocky earth-pony stallion, with a grey and black hide, and a patchy, thunderhead-coloured mane and tail. The two diamond dogs growled, picking up their pikes again.

"Quiet, pony!" Hunter snarled.

"You see nothing." Ranger levelled the business end of his weapon at the small rickety wooden cage that nevertheless held two ponies securely. The female unicorn behind the stallion sobbed quietly, as she eyed the skeletal remains of another pony that lay blackened in the fire-pit.

"They see enough, Ranger," Hunter said, a grin splitting his features. "They trouble and me hungry."

"If you want to hurt Shimmer Star, you'll have to go through me!" snarled the stallion.

"Please, Rainy, don't antagonize them!" Shimmer Star was a unicorn, her usually bright lavender coat was dull and unwashed and her blue mane dishevelled and unkempt. She herself was gaunt and thin, the poison-tipped weapon that had led to their capture having taken its toll.

"No, Shimmer, I won't be quiet! They're going to kill us anyway!" shouted Rainy Days, his grey eyes flashing with anger, "I'm not going to be a meal for some dumb troll without a fight! Why don't they just eat the dragon eggs, anyway? They can't fight back, don't cowards prefer that sort of thing?"

The two diamond dogs growled, but Rainy was unfazed. He lowered his head and pawed the ground, snorting. Hunter and Ranger snarled, but turned away, more intent for the moment on dealing with their prize.

"Dragon eggs are special, love... I'm not surprised you don't know." Shimmer's soft voice made her stallion turn to look at her, questioningly. She continued, "Dragons are special, when you think about it. Their eggshells are magic, so are their bones and teeth. The skin of their young makes the best spell-book vellum known. It will never crack, never fade-"

"Vellum?"

"Leather, skin and hide."

"That's barbaric!" Rainy looked like he might be sick.

"Diamond dogs are barbaric, my love... oh poor Flutter Fire!"

The diamond dogs had been ruthless in their treatment of the ponies they had stalked during their patient stakeout. Flutter Fire had gone down first, snagged in a net. Her wings had fouled, breaking as she flapped madly to escape, and the dogs had killed her as much to shut her up as for a meal. A poisoned wound from a crossbow bolt had felled Shimmer Star, and that alone had kept Rainy Days in check. Rainy Days was strong, his earth pony constitution shaking off the fell brew almost immediately, but Shimmer Star had been weaker, and he would not leave without his remaining wife. They had been imprisoned in a hastily, yet securely-constructed cage. It wouldn't hold the ponies long, not once Shimmer Star was well enough to travel. Until then, things were at an impasse.

"So they don't want to eat them?"

Shimmer Star whimpered as an egg was cracked with a hefty paw-blow, shaking her head. The baby dragon within chirped and chirruped as it was freed from the confines, and was suddenly silenced. The snap of its neck was audible throughout the cave. "No, they don't."

Rainy Days watched now, silently, as the diamond dogs leaped upon egg after egg. With every weak uluation of life, ended quickly and without remorse, he shuddered. Equestrians were not by nature violent, though they were more than capable of defense. Such callous disregard for the lives of innocents shocked and sickened both him, and Shimmer Star.

A sudden exclamation of annoyance brought Rainy back to the present. An egg, far from the pair of trolls, had cracked all by itself, spilling a small green baby dragon into the cave. It squealed, flapping tiny wings as it instinctively fled the dog-troll and sought shelter.

Ranger laughed heartily as his pack-mate slipped amongst the pile of shells, large claw slamming onto empty ground as his attempt to grab the hatchling failed. It scurried across the dusty dirt floor, staying out of reach more by luck than design, as it ran. The small green bundle of wings and claws scampered towards the furthest corner of the cave, and found itself caught in a strong grip.

"Hey there little one!" Shimmer Star snatched at the creature with her muzzle, grabbing its neck in her teeth as she dragged it between her forehooves. It squalled and complained, but Shimmer Star held it close. She nuzzled and breathed on it gently until it calmed down.

Rainy Days looked down at the dragon between his mare's hooves with a mixture of horror and intense interest, "Honey, what are you doing?"

The dog-troll, Hunter, hissed, "Give back!"

"No!" Shimmer Star shouted.

"Star, be reasonable..." Rainy Days backed up a little, looking down at the odd-looking green dragon, still covered in birth-fluids, squalling in his mate's grasp. To risk a fight, over a dragon. He couldn't understand it. Glancing back at the pile, now all but forgotten, the earth pony counted at least forty other eggs the diamond dogs could be obsessing over. Just his luck they wanted the one that got away.

"No!"

Rainy Days shook his head as he looked long and carefully at Star, and sighed. Turning back to the diamond dogs, he snorted, "You heard the lady. Get lost."

Hunter bared his fangs, growling. Rainy Days pawed the ground. Hunter and Ranger both growled viciously, snarling. Rainy Days whinnied a battle-cry... and the cave shook with a terrible rumbling and cracking as the rock itself around them split. The thin sliver of moonlight which fed in through the water-covered entrance darkened, to be replaced by a pointed outcropping of what appeared to be leathery rock. The leathery outcropping growled, and the smell of fire and brimstone flooded the cave. The muzzle of the gigantic creature withdrew, and the entrance of the cave was ripped asunder as a claw the size of boulders widened it.

Hunter was quick, but Ranger was quicker. The second troll snatched up a good half of the eggs and dead hatchlings in his burlap bag, and leaped for the cave wall. Slashing into it with his claws, he was gone, even as the first tongue of dragonfire was snaking into the enclosed space.

"Rainy, get BACK!" screamed Shimmer Star, and she closed her eyes, screwing them up in concentration as her horn exploded into light.

Dragon-fire was hot. It was like the sun itself had dawned within the cave, bringing everlasting morning to the depths of the earth. With a scream that faded into nothing, much as the dust his body became, Hunter was obliterated. The shattered yolks and unborn dragons - those not stolen away by Ranger in his panicked flight - boiled and seethed before succumbing also to the inferno, leaving nothing but gleaming eggshells.

Eventually the light faded, and the cave was dark and silent save for the soft ping as the rocks cooled.

"Shimmer?" Rainy Days said, voice wavering and soft.

"Y-yes, love?"

"I... I think I'm blind."

Rainy Days sat on his rump and cried. The heat had been intense, he had shielded his wife as best he could with his body, but there was only so much that magic and a wall of pony-flesh could do. Hot tears dripped from his muzzle as he shuddered. He was hurt, but he had no idea how badly. This worried him. He'd been burned before, the deceptive lack of pain was easy to ignore and his left foreleg felt strangely numb.

Shimmer Star must have sensed there was more to his behaviour than mere tears, for she comforted him with brief licks to his muzzle. "It's okay, darling, I'm here. I'm with you, I'll always be with you."

It worried him that he couldn't feel his wife's touch, it was as if she were caressing him through a suit of armour. "I... you know I love you, don't you, Shimmer?" He nuzzled her softly, kissing her from her whiskery snout to the poll of her head.

"Rainy-"

Shimmer's eyes were wet, Rainy could taste that. A rasping tongue licked at her muzzle, then at her mane. "Shh, love, I'll... I'll be alright." Rainy felt his wife suddenly stiffen and he perked his ears up, alert, "What? What is it?"

"Rainy, love... just... remember I love you, always." She started sobbing, leaning close in to his body and rubbing her head against him.

Rainy whirled, placing himself between whatever-it-was and the love of his life. "Come no closer! I'll... I'll kill you!"

"Brave little pony, for one so injured." The voice was low, rumbling. It shook the remains of the cave and raised the hackles on Rainy's back. Come to think of it, Rainy Days thought wryly to himself, it doesn't sound like much of a cave any more.

"I'll kill you if you come closer," Rainy threatened, with bravery he didn't possess. Sightless eyes swept across the cave in front of him, searching pointlessly for a target.

"I doubt it, little one. Tell me, what befell your party?" The voice was soft, yet rang with undertones of command that were all but inescapable.

"Rainy, be careful. M-maybe we'd better do as he says..." Shimmer Star placed one hoof on her mate's injured back to urge caution.

The stallion softened his tone. "W-we were ambushed. Sir," added Rainy. "Flutter was killed, they... they ate her. My mate was injured, I protected her. Now you, well you may have killed me."

"Did you touch the eggs?" The owner of the voice asked again. This time, the creature's short words hinted at deadly reprisals.

"You won't touch her!" Rainy pawed the ground as he heard his wife squeak in terror.

"It's okay, love," Shimmer said finally. Rainy heard her standing up. Something mewling was carried in her muzzle. Rainy heard her put it down on the floor before she moved back, fearfully.

"I see," the owner of the voice said, then grew silent.

Rainy felt something huge snag him around the barrel of his chest, and he flailed, whinnying, trying to escape.

"Be still, little one." The wind that followed, though it stank like a charnel house, was soothing. Somehow the all-encompassing darkness lifted. He could feel it; magic of a similar texture to that wielded by healer-unicorns, yet... subtly different. It flowed through him, and where it passed, he knew peace. Light, first indistinct and hazy but then bright and true, slowly made it's presence known.

Rainy blinked away tears as the world swam into focus; a ruined cave with the roof torn to shreds, open to the elements. He was turned, then, to behold his benefactor. He found himself looking up into the red eyes of a large, ebony dragon.

"Hail and well met," the creature said, amusement written large on his scaly snout.

Rainy wet himself.

♠♣♥♦

The dragon had lain still for many long minutes after healing Rainy Days. It seemed unlikely something so minor could tire the creature out, but neither of the ponies wished to push whatever fel luck remained. Then, the dragon seemed to come to a decision. Rainy and Shimmer watched, entranced, as the dragon worked more strange magic before them. At his insistent murmuring and claw-waving, a magical aura swept through the cave, gathering up the dust which had previously been Hunter. Wavering and indistinct, the form of a hunched diamond dog reformed before their very eyes.

"Speak, shade," the dragon commanded.

"What would you know, master?" The voice was sibilant, like memories on the wind. It chilled the ponies to the bone, causing them to reel back in disgust.

"Where lies your camp? Your people? Speak!"

"East, to the gorge. South, through the forest, South West to the broken hills. We ring the quarry, our dens-"

"Enough, shade. Begone." With another wave of his great claw, the dragon dismissed the spirit his necromantic magic had called forth. The great beast leaned back then, eyes focused on some distant place, before he turned, finally, to the ponies.

Shimmer Star gulped as the dragon looked down at them."What are you... what are you going to do now?" she asked, looking up fearfully at the huge beast. She nervously scuffed her hooves through the black powder that had been their cage, all but vaporized by the blast of dragon-fire.

The dragon glared down at the egg-shells, "I shall find and then kill them all. I shall make an example of their kith and kin and raze their villages to the ground, my little ponies."

"I... please don't kill Rainy. He never touched the hatchling. I did."

The large ebony dragon stared then at the whimpering little green ball of scales for many minutes, before finally answering, "Keep him. You have sullied his birth, and he is not fit to be amongst his own kind. When you deem him ready, present him before me for judgement."

Shimmer Star blinked, "What?"

The dragon looked back down at the lavender unicorn, "You are now responsible for his life. Fail, and you should beg to your princesses that I am merciful. Succeed, and your debt is repaid. Unless you would give your life in his stead?"

"Y-you mean..."

The dragon glared at the unicorn, "The birth of a dragon is sacred, pony. It was taken from him, so it is as if he has not been born at all. Lest you be responsible for poaching and subject to the same fate I shall now deal out to those diamond dogs who dared perpetrate such an insult, see to his continued welfare. Consider it a gift, a bond and a geas, pony. Or give your life to me. I may be merciful. I may not."

Shimmer Star glared back at the dragon, "I will look after him. What... what about the eggshells?"

"Gather them. Keep none for yourselves or your lives are forfeit, you know full well what they are capable of. Such things are not for ponies. Consider yourselves under my wing until I release you. Cross me, and you will not live to regret it. Neither will your father, nor your mother, nor your siblings, your children nor your children's children. Am I clear?"

"Very."

"And... place his shell-shards separate."

"Yes... yes sir." Shimmer Star added.

The black dragon rumbled appreciatively and turned, lumbering away, "I will be back, my little ponies. See to it that you complete your tasks. When I return, you shall aid me in taking what belongs to my clan to its rightful place, and then I shall escort you to the nearest pony settlement."

With that, and a rush of wind and dirt, the dragon was gone. Rainy let out his breath in a rush, blinking. "Did we... was that..?"

"Yes, love, that was."

"And you've got a..?"

Shimmer Star smiled, licking the remaining birthing fluids from her tiny charge, "I do. Say hello to your son, Rainy."

Rainy Days stepped closed to the strange little bundle of green scales, "I... guess he's kind of cute. In an ugly way." Rainy shook his head. The dragon's magic had healed him, and the searing nightmare memory was receeding, moment by moment. It would never truly be gone, but it would not do to dwell upon it.

"Oh hush, that dragon'll roast us for that."

"I doubt it. All babies are ugly. What shall we name him, anyway?"

"Dewdrop? Lilac?" Shimmer suggested, pausing between soft licks.

Rainy Days snorted, "Hardly suitable for a dragon, dear."

"Ow! Hey! No biting!" Shimmer Star buried her muzzle in the creature's belly, blowing raspberries which made the little dragon giggle helplessly.

"He has a sharp set of teeth, my dear!"

"One sharp tooth, at least, that's what they use to break through the eggshell with, you see?" Shimmer used her hooves to gently pry open the dragon's muzzle. He squealed, she apologized with a kiss.

"Sharptooth," Rainy Days scratched at his chin with a hoof, "that could work."

♠♣♥♦

Sharptooth opened his good eye, blinking sleep away. The other eye remained closed, only time would tell if it had survived intact. Ancient memories echoed in his mind, slinking away as the dawn banished them. Curiously, he found a tear dripping down his muzzle. He wiped it away carefully with a claw and looked at it as it ran down his scaly hide, to disappear between the floorboards.

Sniffing to clear his nostrils, he yawned and stretched carefully, his myriad injuries making it a slower process than usual. Unaccustomed to sleeping on a wooden floor in what he recalled was the town schoolhouse, he found he ached, but it was not just with his choice of abode. A wing was torn to shreds, he was missing more than a few scales and various deep rakes from the talons of one of his oldest friends still stung. The less said about the broken bones, the better. A dragon's tail shouldn't be quite so limp...

Groaning in effort, Sharptooth stood. He could smell his son in the room. The boy had stood guard, he could tell. The nervous tense aroma of sweat and adrenaline hung heavy, easy to identify to a dragon. Was he so feeble as to require guards? Sharptooth grinned to himself, despite the pain. After the battle last night, it was quite possible that he was.

Ears perking up, Sharptooth heard voices. It was Celestia, and Chip. Sharptooth chuckled to himself; for a son he had thought dead, for a dragon of so few weeks let alone years, Chip was proving remarkably competent. Celestia, however, was altogether an entirely new level of difficult to deal with. Sharptooth straightened, hid his pain, and exited the school.

"Good morning, Princess Celestia." Sharptooth heard Chip say, "My father is... indisposed."

Sharptooth grinned, and eased himself out as silently as he could. "Your father," he said from right behind the surprised foal, "is quite capable of speaking for himself."

♠♣♥♦

Chip meandered through Tacksworn with no real destination in mind. His father was being healed by that lavender unicorn Twilight Sparkle, under the guise of merely checking his injuries, whilst the dragon protested about the insult of it all. Chip didn't really understand; he knew it was a game of sorts, but when it came down to it, it sounded like a bunch of foals squabbling over who gets the last bite of hay.

"So, this is Tacksworn, huh?"

"Mmhmm," Chip replied, flicking an ear at the dragon sitting on his back.

"I expected more from the site of the Equestrian Peace Accords."

"The what?" Chip stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

"The Pax Equestrus? You don't know about it?"

"Uh uh." Chip shook his head.

"About... two hundred years before Luna was banished, according to Twilight, the three main races in Equestria came together to seal a peace deal. Dragons, Griffons and Ponies. They found a neutral place, as far from each Realm as they could, and pledged not to make war on each other, and to aid those who found themselves in battle."

"And that place..?"

"Was right here, Tacksworn. The diamond dogs joined the treaty about three hundred years after Luna was banished, and there's been peace ever since."

"More or less, huh?" Chip started walking again. He pointed out where the remains of various buildings were still smouldering, or traumatized ponies were hauling away the last of the debris before they could start to rebuild.

"More or less," Spike agreed. His fidgeting made Chip stop again and look back, inquisitively. The dragon mustered up enough courage to talk. "What happened last night?" the small dragon finally asked.

Chip turned away again, and continued trotting through town, "I killed a dragon. I killed a bunch of diamond dogs first though. I set them on fire, or bucked them to pieces. I don't want to talk about it."

A little purple fist knocked on Chip's haunch-plate, "These are worth it, then?"

"I wish I could take them off sometimes, but even when they're off, I know they're there."

"Would you be a pony again, if you could?" Spike asked.

Chip laughed, softly, "It doesn't make much sense to say it, but no. Life is change, you can't go back."

"But you can... stop?"

"I think that's why Sharptooth lives out here, Spike. He just wants a bit of peace and quiet when he's not off doing... whatever it is he does. Usually this place doesn't change much, I guess."

"And now it has two dragon lords, and the invading army is subsequently effecting repairs under their new master. Hail, young dragons!"

Chip blinked, and looked up at an adult griffon he didn't recognize. The creature was huge, probably three times the pony's size and almost as big as Sharptooth. A metallic helm on the creature's head was painted in odd designs and glaring colours, and he held a long pike decorated in the same devices in one claw. The leading edge of his wings and his wrists were sheathed in gleaming metal, as were his foreclaws and hind paws.

"H-hi," Chip said, grinning hopefully.

"It is good to see the hero of last night's battle in the flesh!" the griffon shouted happily. He lunged for the pony, and wrapped his wings and claws around Chip's neck before butting the helpless pony-shaped dragon in the head.

As the stars cleared, Chip was somewhat surprised to find he was neither dead, nor shredded. "Thanks... I guess." He blinked to clear his vision some more, staggering slightly.

Spike had fallen off and was dusting himself down, "Let me guess, you don't know much about griffons, either?"

"Ah, forgive me, my good Lord Sapphire! Where are my manners? I am Clan-Chief Thrinn, junior-most member of the Tacksworn Protectorate Council. Our forces were summoned last night to battle, and a glorious battle it was! I do apologize for our tardiness, but I am glad to report we were successful in our endeavours."

"Clan-Chief who-now?" sputtered Spike.

"And you, Lord Sapphire! A glorious blow it was, a mighty blow! Straight and true. Later, at our ritual entertainment, you and your servant must regale us with a proper telling of the tale!"

"Servant?!" squeaked Spike.

"Not my fault! Roll with it!" hissed Chip, a manic grin on his muzzle.

"It's the apron, isn't it? They saw me earlier when I was baking muffins..." Spike muttered to himself, as the griffon chief, apparently satisfied, sauntered off with his entourage in tow.

"Are all griffons like that?" Chip asked

"I really don't know," Spike replied.

"But Carmine-"

"But Carmine what, you doofus?"

Chip froze as the griffoness landed in front of him, a stupid look manifesting on his muzzle.

Spike kicked the pony in the flanks a few times to see if he'd start moving again, "Chip? Chip? Ugh, I'll never get like that around a girl. Come on, get moving..." The baby dragon finally hopped down from Chip's back, and stormed off, grinding his teeth. "You know, you're a real butt when she's around."

Chip never saw him go, "Hey Carmine. I really missed you, you know."

"Don't get mushy on me," Carmine replied. She looked left and right, but then leaned in and punched him on the chest, "I missed you too though. What happened to you? I mean last night, you said you were... all over the place, but-"

"Sharptooth, he... he took me to the funeral, and then left me with my uncle in Stalliongrad. I guess he thought it was a good idea." the pony replied, flicking his ears and tail noncommittally.

"How'd that work out for you?" Carmine asked, as Chip started walking again.

"He tried to kill me, then he died. Then his house burned down."

"Tough break." Carmine nodded, raising an eyebrow.

"I did meet my cousin, though. She's a unicorn, and she'll make a good Baroness Irontail."

"Hey! That's great!" Carmine replied, punching Chip again.

"I had to enslave her and her father to stop a pair of dragons from killing her. And Celestia hates me for it."

Carmine whistled through her beak, "You know-"

"I think that's probably worse than the fact I own a pegasus though," Chip continued.

"Wait, you what-"

"But I can't free Hairpin, and Celestia's really not very happy about-"

"Wait, Chip... Chip! You have got to be kidding me!" Carmine grabbed Chip and spun him around, "You disappear for weeks and return, breathing fire-"

"It's temporary! I think..."

"And you own slaves."

"Pets."

Carmine let go of his withers like she'd been burned, "What in the First Egg's name happened to you?"

Suddenly, Chip started crying. He tried to explain, to tell her, to make it all make sense. He tried to talk about Pig Iron, and Pyrite, and Hairpin and Sunshine, but it all came out in a jumbled mass. Tears ran down his muzzle and choking sobs bit off most of his words.

Carmine pulled the pony closer, wrapping a wing around him, "Chip, you... you're a good kid. If there's one thing I know, you're a good kid. You're a butt, but you're... a good butt, okay?"

Chip hiccuped and tried not to laugh, sniffling loudly, "Okay."

"Okay. You'd never do something bad... Celestia's really mad?"

"Uh huh."

"Because you own a pet pegasus?"

"Uh huh."

"Is she cute?"

"Uh huh."

"As cute as me?"

"Uh uh."

Carmine glared, "Cuter?"

"Uh uh." Chip grinned, wiping the tears away.

"That's alright then. Not that I like you or anything. Dweeb." Carmine ruffled her feathers, picking at the primaries and grooming them idly as they walked. The soft snick-snick of her beak barely echoed as they passed through small alleyways towards nowhere in particular.

"Carmine, did you... get a look at that map again?" Chip asked suddenly.

The griffon shook her head, "Not last night, not today. Why?"

"I've been thinking. Lord Sapphire... he said it was the wrong map."

"So?" Carmine chewed a piece of Beryl's famed Rabbit Surprise she'd purchased on their walk. This time, and it truly was shocking to contemplate, it wasn't rabbit. She hadn't asked what it was, she was hungry.

"So... is there no map, or... or was Lord Sapphire looking for something else? And if he was, what was it? All this..." Chip gestured around at the town which was being cleared of debris and rebuilt, a town which was consoling itself over great loss and steeling itself for the future, "all this, could it really be over a mistake? Or is there something else behind it all?"

"You mean another map? But... what to?" Carmine stared at Chip

Chip stared back at Carmine, "What was the first map to?"

Carmine grinned, the corners of her beak turning up imperceptibly, "Your dad said it was to some sort of path. Only one way to find out for sure."

♠♣♥♦

The schoolhouse was deserted. Chip had commandeered it the previous night for Sharptooth to sleep in, and it had remained empty the whole day, what with everypony being far too busy dealing with the aftermath of the battle to see to such mundanity as lessons. Empty, the building held a strange aura, as if echoes of the thousands of lessons spent under its roof could still be heard. The two moved silently, whispering even though there were none to rebuke them. Finding the map was simple, even after last night, it wasn't locked away. Quite probably, with the invading forces now belonging to Chip, there had been no apparent need. Chip wondered at that as they dragged it into the middle of the empty classroom; he wondered whether ponies were by nature too easy going or friendly, and how they'd managed to get the dragons, griffons and diamond dogs to agree to a treaty in the face of it.

"Your dad said it was... somewhere near Neighvada."

"What was?" Chip stepped carefully over the mat. He'd never seen anything quite like it anywhere else, before coming to Tacksworn. Now he knew why; there was nothing like it, anywhere else, and likely never would be.

"Here!" Carmine pointed with a talon at a small design. Chip leaned closer, it appeared to be a mountain range to the East of Neighvada, only much older. The design didn't seem to be quite made of thread. Now he looked at it, the map didn't seem to be entirely woven either. He suspected it was magic, though he had never heard of anything like it. "What does it say?"

"I... can't read it. It's in draconic," Carmine said, "or maybe in Ancient Diamondese, I don't know. It's not Equestrian."

Chip stared long and hard at the formation, "I've got to talk to Sharptooth about this. I have to know what's there."

"Where is he?"

"I think Celestia took him home. I don't think he can fly yet, don't tell anyone. Dragons and flying..."

"Kinda like griffons, I bet."

Chip grinned, but as he looked out the window at the distant rock spire his grin faded. "Yeah, probably." At the base of the mountain that formed his home was a large cairn of boulders. Under it was the body of the previous Lord Sapphire, placed there by Chip and a few members of what appeared to be his own personal army of diamond dogs. It would be a constant reminder from this day forth of what had happened. "I wonder how he's getting on?"