Strange Alchemy

Chapters

(E1) Chapter 2: Calico
(E1) Chapter 3: Quicklime
(E1) Chapter 4: Delirium
(E1) Chapter 1: The Soma Opal

(E1) Chapter 2: Calico

Not for the first time since taking up investigations, I found my interests following me to work.

Of course I spent the first few hours of the shift wandering through life half-awake, filing things and retrieving requests from prominent ponies more by rote than anything else. But I had a talent for operating on not much sleep, and eventually I’d recovered enough that I had started putting pieces together in my head.

The Soma Opal was an artifact—of the valuable and rare sort that the Canterlot Archives might very well have stored. Even if it’d never been in the expansive vaults, writings about it might have been.

I couldn’t abandon the pretense of being an ordinary employee—couldn’t stop my flights through the catacombs to retrieve one scroll or replace another. But I kept the question burning there, waiting for an opportunity.

That opportunity came at lunch, when I’d rushed into the employee lounge to catch a meal moments before catering packed everything up. The room was mostly empty—most of the Archives’ ponies liked to start as soon as noon came. But I wasn’t the only one late.

An ancient pegasus had just slipped into line, pushing a tray along the counter with a gray wing.

I slipped into line behind him. “Secret Lore!” I exclaimed. “How are you?”

“Suspicious,” he answered, filling his plate with the last of the harvest salad.

I barely even noticed, but I did slip an extra container of juice onto my tray under the napkin. “Why?”

“Because you’re being friendly before six. That means you want something.”

My ears flattened. “Am I… that obvious?”

“Not just you.” There was no checkout, and I followed him to one of the empty tables. No one was here but catering, giving us both dirty looks. “Of all the bats I know, not one of them is a morning pony. It’s impressive enough to me that you can even get to work on time each morning.”

“It’s interesting working here,” I said, though I couldn’t keep a little smile of satisfaction from my lips. I did take pride in how well I had balanced both of my careers. “Even if all of us can’t work in the secret archives like you. So much history. And the ponies who come to us are the ones who appreciate how important it is.”

“Yes yes.” He waved an annoyed wing, before starting to chow down on the salad. “Might as well ask whatever you’re going to pester me about, Midnight. Consider me sufficiently softened up.” He trailed off. “You look just like my granddaughter, you know. With a face like that you don’t have to bother.”

I stiffened. Had Secret Lore just called me cute? But I couldn’t get distracted. If this case worked out… if a name like Fancypants ended up on my reference sheet, maybe I could go full time. It was good to have friends in high places.

“Well, I heard there was a robbery in the city last week.”

The pegasus grunted. “There are robberies all the time, child. That’s why ponies dig vaults. To protect things from those who shouldn’t have them.”

“Well… yeah…” He wasn’t being very helpful. I lowered my voice to the quietest whisper. While Fancypants hadn’t gotten me to sign to secrecy, his intent had been clear enough. He wanted this kept private. “But it was something really important that got stolen. An artifact that Celestia had loaned out to one of her most trusted ponies. Something called the ‘Soma Opal’? Have you ever heard of it?”

Secret Lore’s head jerked around the room, making sure the ponies cleaning up lunch weren’t close enough to eavesdrop. “Somepony stole it? And Celestia doesn’t know?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think so. I think the one it was stolen from might be looking for it. Can you tell me anything about it?”

The pegasus nodded slowly. A kind of satisfied comprehension crept across his muzzle as he looked me over. “Oh. You’re on another one of your adventures, aren’t you?”

“Am not.” I folded my hooves across my chest. Most of my coworkers didn’t know the first thing about my nocturnal life. But Secret Lore knew things—more than anypony else in the Archives. That meant he was the one I went to when the catalog wasn’t enough.

“Well, I can tell you it has something to do with emotional magic. It’s historically connected to the Sirens. Before Star Swirl banished them from Equestria… well, he found it. And it seemed important to him that it get locked away. It’s quite unusual for him to not have attempted to study something that interesting when it fell into his possession. But Star Swirl barely wrote a line. We’ve suspected he thought it was too dangerous—but apparently not dangerous enough that we didn’t want to be poking around.”

“Oh.” That was surprisingly unhelpful. It was old and powerful—I’d already known both of those things. Emotional magic and the Sirens—those were both leads, but they probably wouldn’t help me find the darn thing.

I knew I couldn’t push much harder. Secret Lore was a helpful pony, but his job mattered to him. He’d never do anything to put the secrets of the Archives in danger.

“I hope whoever is looking for it finds it soon,” he said, voice pointed. “Because if they don’t, somepony will have to warn the city.”

“I’m sure they will.” I rose from the table, food mostly untouched. I didn’t really need anything past the juice anyway. “Thanks for the help, Secret Lore.”

“Anytime,” he called, voice amused. “Don’t get yourself hurt, kid.”

I didn’t intend to.

But I didn’t intend to take this slow, either. Fancypants had been clear about one thing: nopony else was going to be in on this stage of the investigation. There would be nopony to back me up if I failed. It was all or nothing with Canterlot as the prize.

I caught an hour of sleep after work, then made straight for the Fancypants Estate. Whoever had stolen the Opal, they’d had to have visited the mansion. It was time to question the staff.

It took over an hour. The ponies didn’t seem to care for me much—maybe they didn’t think a bat like me had any business rooting around in their family’s affairs. Maybe they didn’t trust me. But after putting the pressure on, I managed to get one of the groundskeepers to admit that there had been an unusual visitor the night of the theft.

“It isn’t the first time we’ve got a visitor from the Mazuma family,” said Full Iron, shifting uneasily in his armor. “That’s how the families go. Important ponies go back and forth. Parties one weekend, quiet brunches the next. I’m sure she didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Maybe you are,” I muttered, circling him. “But maybe I want to check on everything, just in case. If everything worked the way Fancypants expected, there wouldn’t have been a robbery. Under your muzzle.”

Full Iron stiffened. “We were all doing our jobs,” he grunted. “Don’t you dare try to imply otherwise.”

“Which include the Mazuma lady?”

He nodded slowly. “I… yes,” he finally said. “She was sketching some of the art. She visits all the families with interesting collections. And ours is the best, so she comes here most of all.”

“Sketching the art…” That sounded as shaky to me as moon-grown mangoes. But I didn’t tell Full Iron that. Apparently that was the only thing out of the ordinary that night.

I still had to go over the scene of the crime. Fancypants wasn’t there, but apparently he’d left instructions to let me in. Unfortunately, Full Iron decided it was his personal mission to make sure I didn’t so much as glance at any of the other objects on display in the gallery. Whenever I slowed even a little he would nudge me forward, towards the broken display case.

Finally I stopped, so suddenly that he smacked into me from behind. I turned to glare at him, baring my fangs. “I’m going to need you to back off,” I said.

“Just here to protect the gallery,” he said, voice smug. “That means keeping grimy hooves off the exhibits.”

“Grimy hooves already got on the exhibits.” I pointed at the broken case. “There could be clues anywhere. Clues ponies missed. Fancypants isn’t stupid—he already had this place turned upside-down, right? He obviously didn’t find the Opal, or else you’d still be outside and I wouldn’t be smelling you.”

“Wait…”

But I shoved him back with a hoof. “Go ahead and watch. But watch me from the door. You can take notes if you want. Tell Fancypants about everything I touch. But if you’re not going to let me do my job, I hope you realize that’s exactly what I plan to tell him.”

Full Iron grumbled under his breath, then turned and walked back towards the doorway. “If you break anything, we’ll take it out of your wings.”

Whatever that meant. I turned back to my task, ignoring Full Iron and whatever else he might be muttering. I had a crime to investigate.

All my usual searches turned up nothing. There were no unusual scents on the broken case, nothing that didn’t match the other guards. The room was well lit even at night, so there was nothing other ponies might have missed hiding in the gloom.

The case itself had been cut, nice and clean. The thick glass had been pulled right out, then set back into place over an empty case. The cut had the look of magic all over it—perfect melted glass on the edges, the inner section removed without shattering.

So a skilled unicorn at that, maybe an experienced cat-burglar. But none of the windows had been opened, and the locks were secure on everything else.

Whoever came in here knew exactly what they wanted. And they came out the way they came in. Maybe somepony had disguised themselves as a guard… or more likely, they’d been invited inside. Maybe because they were always visiting to sketch the art.

It was time to pay miss Calico Mazuma a visit.

It wasn’t long past ten by the time I finally found the mansion I was looking for. Not one of the most impressive in Canterlot, located in a section of the upper city without its own round-the-clock guards. I didn’t have ponies accosting me all the way to the door.

But the Mazuma family was still wealthy enough for a butler. I could tell his look the second I opened the door, and the way he glared down his snout at me. “Whoever you are, the mistress doesn’t have the time,” he said, before I could even open my mouth.

“I think you’ll find that she does,” I said, shoving my hoof into the open door before he could shut it all the way.

He smacked it closed, maybe a little painfully. But I didn’t flinch.

“I’ll have the authorities on you,” he said, eyes narrowing. “The mistress doesn’t need the distraction of more suitors… and you’re scruffier than her usual type. Get away before I get less generous.”

“I’m not courting,” I said, glaring at him. “I’m investigating a crime. I’m here to help clear her name.”

The butler stopped struggling. “Is that so? You don’t look like a constable.”

“I’m not. I’m a private investigator. But Calico Mazuma was one of the last ponies at the scene of a recent theft. I’m hoping she might be able to give me some insight before the authorities get involved.”

The butler shifted uncomfortably on his hooves, avoiding my eyes. There was something this pony wasn’t telling me. But if I pressed him now, he very well might just slam the door in my face. I would have to keep an eye on him.

“I’ll speak with her. Wait out here.” He smacked the door shut in my face. So I waited, lounging against one of the carved stone pillars. It was a fairly grand entryway, as impressive as anything on one of the fancier manors. But it was cracked in places, and a layer of grime had formed on the stone.

Mazuma had fallen on hard times, it seemed. There were no landscapers either, judging by the state of the garden. I wonder if you were looking for a quick way out of your family’s financial troubles, Calico. Thought you could pawn off the Opal and get away with it?

“Hey,” said a voice from somewhere above me. Above? I looked up, and saw a unicorn hanging from the awning. Well—her head, anyway. Her mane hung wild all around her, white and shiny like a sheet of wet snow. Her coat made it obvious how her parents had named her, white except for the various blotches of brown and yellow. “You look pretty. I hope you’re here for me.”

“I have no idea,” I said, staring back up at her in a way I hoped didn’t seem startled. I was startled, but it was best if she didn’t know that. “Are you Calico?”

There was a flash, and suddenly there was a pony standing in front of me. Younger than I was, wearing something like an elegant gown. The sort of thing rich ponies might’ve worn a few years ago—it was slimmer and less jewel-encrusted than the latest style that Ponyville tailor had started. “That’s what they call me. But you can just call me Cali.”

“Calico,” I said again, ignoring her. “I hope you wouldn’t mind an interview. You’re implicated in a crime, and I’d like to see if you can point me towards the real culprit.”

The unicorn’s huge mane visibly deflated. Her horn glowed, and she glanced once at the door. “I… I guess so.” She leaned sideways, kicking it open. “Whatever you think I did, I didn’t. I’d have owned up. If I leave an apple in the road, I’ll say so.”

I covered my mouth, but a little explosion of laughter escaped anyway. Had she just said what I thought she said? A noble lady in a translucent white dress was…

“Come on,” she said, shoving past the flustered butler. “Into the parlor. It’s the only room Bitsworth won’t let me show to common guests, which means it’s the room we’re using. Make some tea, Bitsworth. The saffron.”

He rolled his eyes, fixing me with a murderous look. I could practically read the intent behind that stare. If you lied to me…

But I wasn’t the liar here. Well, not that big a liar. I did think that Calico was really behind the theft. I just needed to find the proof. Maybe if I could sneak away I could search this place. There was a chance that she hadn’t sold it yet.

The Mazuma manor was far less impressive than the Fancypants estate. There were plenty of old things, but lots of them had the look of fakes about them. Whole wings of the house looked like they’d been shut tight, and there was a layer of dust everywhere that wasn’t the main hall.

Calico had selected the oldest, dustiest corridor of all for our meeting, and with each step the butler seemed to get a little more annoyed. It looked like an indoor music room—there was a dusty piano, plenty of old busts of famous composers. But music wasn’t my subject, and I didn’t know any of their names.

“Whatever you think I did, I hope it was awesome. If it’s something boring like tax evasion, I’m going to be rather cross. If I didn’t have the decency to enjoy my crimes, I’d at least think I would be clever enough not to get caught.”

She shoved over a musty stool, raising a little cloud of dust as she did so.

This is why I wear the coat. I sat down, nodding. “Well, it was certainly exciting. Grand theft of a historical treasure. Fancypants would probably say you’d managed to ‘larcen an object of surpassing beauty and historicity.’ But I don’t really know what that means, so I’ll just say that somepony stole it, and you were the last one into the gallery.”

I pretended as though I wasn’t watching her very closely, like I was more interested in the piano and the old busts. But in reality I watched her every move, as carefully as I’d ever watched a pony before.

Was that genuine surprise on Calico’s face, or a clever fraud? The anger that followed certainly seemed real enough. “Fancypants sent you to accuse me?”

“No, no!” I raised my wings defensively, though the lady had done nothing threatening. “Nothing like that. I’m just questioning every potential witness. I can’t imagine why a pony in your station would steal something so rare and precious. But I was hoping you might’ve noticed something. Anything out of the ordinary.”

“Hmm…” My explanation seemed to satisfy her—but I couldn’t be sure. These noble ponies were better liars than I could ever hope to be. Even a poor, unsuccessful one probably told more lies in a day than I did in a year.

“Well, there was one of the guards. Full Iron, you know him. He was particularly obstinate that day. Made me wait outside the gallery for several minutes while he inspected the place, just to be sure. I’m never sure of what he wants… maybe he did it.”

I couldn’t keep myself from laughing again. “Believe me, if it could’ve been anyone I hope it was him. I think I know where that pony keeps his sticks.”

She actually giggled. “You should say that again when Bitsworth comes back. I would love to see the look on his face.”

At that moment Bitsworth did come back, levitating a tray of tea. I could smell the saffron before he even set it down. “Lady,” he said, bowing politely to Calico before stepping back to pretend I wasn’t there.

“Out,” Calico barked, glaring at him. “You know I don’t like uninvited guests.”

Bitsworth glared at me again, but didn’t say what he was probably thinking. “Very well, miss. Ring me if you require my help with anything. Clearing the garbage, perhaps.” He left.

Calico grunted dissatisfaction. “Sorry about Bitsworth. He’s been like that ever since my father died. Guess we all grieve a different way, ya’ know?”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, taking a careful sip of the tea. I half expected it would be poisoned. But I didn’t taste or smell anything strange, so I would just have to act like it wasn’t. For now. By drinking as little as possible, and watching to see if anything strange happened to Calico.

“But I did come here for a reason. If you’ve got nothing else… nothing else you might’ve noticed, or overheard… then that would make you the crown’s first suspect. Once the royal family finds out this thing is missing, I mean.”

I sounded completely confident as I said it, though of course I had no way of making that prediction come true.

But as it turns out, just sounding like you know what you’re talking about is enough for most ponies. This was apparently one of those times.

“I… yeah.” She looked away from me, seeming deep in thought. “You’re investigating this right now, aren’t you? Fancypants hired you?”

I nodded.

“So that means you’re the one who’s going to decide this investigation. Whatever you find…”

A little ambitious, but if she was going to volunteer it. I nodded again.

She rose suddenly from her chair. “Well, that decides it then. I might have heard some things. I’ve got some of my own information. But if you want any of it, you have to take me with you.”

I must’ve looked pretty foolish right then, jaw hanging open and eyes glazed over. This lady, pretty as a new tea set and fierce as an angry housecat…

“I don’t think you understand what you’re asking for,” I said, glaring at her. “This investigation is dangerous. Last night somepony tried to kill me. If you go out, you’d be in just as much danger.”

She shrugged, apparently unconcerned. “Every day is dangerous, that’s just part of being alive. That’s the reason for being alive. What’s the point of staying locked up in this cage while it wastes away around me? Besides, you don’t have a choice. I happen to know where all the stolen goods in Canterlot end up. For an… unrelated personal reason that certainly has nothing to do with pawning off my family’s treasures.”

She raised a hoof. “No, don’t. I’ve already told you enough to give Bitsworth a heart attack. Enough to ruin my whole family if you spread it around Canterlot, actually.”

She closed the distance in a flash—a literal flash of a teleport, as skillful as anything I’d ever seen. She practically jammed her hoof at me. “Come on then, partner. Let’s find a missing Opal.”

I might not be the oldest hoof in the detective business, but I knew a few things. Mostly from my reading in the Archives, which contained plenty of newspapers and fiction on the subject.

While the old papers never agreed on much, there was one salient point that remained consistent across every era.

Always keep work and play in their own boxes. Now Calico had stuck her muzzle into my work, deeper than I could get her out. She knew where the rich and famous brought their most expensive hauls. That was information I couldn’t pass up. I’d never be able to get into the same circles as a mare like this, even if her family was yesterday’s news.

I waited around in the garden for at least an hour while she “got ready” for the evening. If the butler could’ve murdered me with his eyes alone, I would’ve been dead a dozen times before she finally emerged.

I’d never seen a mare quite like her, not even on the covers of Canterlot’s most fashionable magazines.

Calico was wearing all green, the same shade as her eyes. There was still no dusting of jewels, but she’d found some white stockings to wear under the dress, which rippled whenever she moved. Sensual might’ve been a bit of an understatement.

“I don’t think…” I tried to find my words, tried to make it look any less like I was staring at her. But it wasn’t my strongest showing. “Canterlot can be a rough place, Calico. You really want to be catching everypony’s attention like that?”

“I assure you, Midnight. Catching their attention is exactly what we want. We aren’t going to some scummy warehouse. This place might be illegal, but if I didn’t look like this, they wouldn’t let us in.”

Instead of cutting across town to the lower level, we made for one of the high-class shopping areas. I got looks, dressed the way I was, but so long as I stayed close to Calico it wasn’t much of a problem. Ponies probably assumed I was her porter or something.

Eventually we reached an unmarked building, one that looked like it might be a restaurant. There were brightly lit windows on the upper floor, open with the sound of conversation wafting out. Rich folk, singing praises of each other’s wealth.

“Let me do the talking,” Calico whispered, as we lined up near the entrance. “Just agree with everything I say and don’t make an oaf of yourself. If you can avoid it.”

I wanted to snap back, but the line in front of us had melted away by then, and the eyes of the guards were on us.

They could’ve been Equestrian City Watch by the look of their gold armor and the cut of their manes. Except that there were no badges, no nameplates. They were as crooked as a parasprite farm. But who did the City Watch really serve, anyway?

“I’m here to browse,” Calico said, her voice soft and melodic. “Maybe to sell.”

“Just keep that horn to yourself, Mazuma,” barked the lead guard, an earth pony as graceful as a stack of bricks. “We see you trying to snatch again and we’ll break it off.”

Calico made an indignant sound, but didn’t dare to argue with them directly. Maybe because their accusation had some merit.

This is probably where she took the Opal once she stole it. But why is she leading me in here?

One answer to that question jumped right out: maybe because it was a trap. There were dirty guards here, who knew what they’d let happen to me?

“What about the bat?” asked that same guard, his voice grating against my ears. “How desperate are you, Calico?”

“She’s assisting,” Calico said, gesturing urgently for me to follow. And I did, sparing one last glance for the location. Just in case I needed to report it to the guards.

They don’t seem to like her very much. Maybe she’s innocent. Or maybe she’d been part of the theft, but the guilty party had cut her off from her part of the funds. That Opal must be worth enough for a whole mansion all on its own.

Stepping inside was like getting smacked in the face with expensive perfumes. I could hardly think for the first few seconds, but found my footing quick enough. Hopefully soon enough that Calico wouldn’t see me struggling.

The hallway beyond was wide, and lined with paintings that were both fancy and nondescript. They weren’t trying to draw attention the way the Fancypants collection did. It was a far more austere display of wealth, meant to put the wealthy at ease without bothering them much with details.

“You said that thing was magic, right? That means we want the basement.” She turned down a side-passage, away from an open ballroom with its own live orchestra. Was that Blueblood through those doors?

But I didn’t get a good look, because soon we were sweeping down a gloomier way. Somewhere she could have me killed quietly. I didn’t see any guards in this passage, but that didn’t mean they weren’t lurking somewhere nearby, ready to spring the instant we were far from the party.

“Hold it,” I whispered, before stopping dead in the hallway. “I’m not going one more step before I get an explanation from you, Calico.” Not that it wasn’t nice walking behind her. The things I’d seen…

She turned, grinning innocently. But when she spoke, it was in a whisper. “I already told you. This is a gray market. Everypony pretends what happens here is legal, but we both know it’s only because they’re the ones signing all the laws. I know a guy down in the exchange who might be able to get us a look at the register. See where that pearl of yours went.”

“Opal,” I muttered, annoyed. But I was sure she knew that. I didn’t see any signs of hostility or deception from her. I couldn’t smell anything either. Apparently Calico believed what she was telling me.

But if I was wrong, I might not walk out of here to tell anypony.

I’m not going to be the best by playing it safe. Somepony has to find that thing.

“Okay,” I muttered, defeated. “Let’s find your pony.”

The basement didn’t prove to be a secluded place to get me killed, anyway. Down a spiral staircase were another half-dozen guards, each of them looking profoundly annoyed to be seeing Calico.

They scanned us over with every enchantment in the book, then let us into a cold room I was positive had been a dungeon. I could still see some of the bars, rusting quietly away in the corner.

There was a sort of vault down here, with shelves behind it stacked with all sorts of oddities. A little like the Archives, except without the organization and with a great deal more reek of blood.

There weren’t any other clients down here, or at least none that I could see. So there was no one to stop us from making our way over to the proprietor, protected as he was behind the steel bars of one of the cells. They’d locked him in with all the merchandise, but there was an opening on the counter in front of him, big enough to pass bits back and forth.

Presumably the bars would be enchanted too, to stop unicorns teleporting in and out. But I wouldn’t be able to test it. “What a night. Calico graces me with her presence again. What can I get her tonight?”

“Looks like you’ve got some great stuff, Laissez Faire,” Calico said. “But I didn’t come for goods tonight. I’m here for information.”

“There is no difference.” Laissez Faire lifted a thick sheaf of papers from under the counter, though he kept one hoof on it. Just out of reach. “One is just more tangible than the other. What are you looking to buy?”

She looked back at me. I stepped up beside her at the counter, feeling the weight of old wood under my hooves. Sounded like the misery of who knew how many ancient ponies might be trapped underneath as I walked across it.

“I’m looking for something that went missing,” I said. “Soma Opal. Do you know anything about it?”

I could see the change on Laissez Faire instantly. His whole body went taut with energy, and there were a few flickers of sparks from his horn before he managed to suppress them. The answer was yes.

“No,” he said, glancing once at the guards behind us. To my surprise, they took a step back, resuming their patrol of the outside. “And trust me, neither do you.” He tapped the side of one of the crates beside him. I recognized the logo--it was the same one I’d seen in the ledger I’d snatched from Supply Chain. It belonged to the one whose name was at the top of Golden Bliss all over Canterlot. A pony named Delirium. From the cut of the profits Chain had been sending them, I guessed they must have quite the weight to swing around.

He turned, meeting Calico’s eyes. “You didn’t just ask me about that, Calico. You get me? Nopony knows about that. Ponies who try to find out more than they should, well… bad things happen.”

Calico looked sideways at me, eyes widening. She was afraid. Well, that made one of us. I wasn’t going to give up now. Laissez Faire knew something, and he was going to tell me.

I leaned across the counter, grinning at him with both fangs. That was intimidating to non-bats. This unicorn was not immune, I could see the twitch on his face. “Listen. The ponies looking for it go all the way to the top. It’s better for everypony down below if they help us. Maybe that changes the way things end. With royal compensation, instead of in a royal cell. Get me?”

Calico kicked me with one of her hind legs, hard enough that I was actually staggered. “Midnight is a bit of an idiot,” she said. “You didn’t hear that.”

“Wish I hadn’t,” Laissez Faire said. “But that isn’t the way this works. Sorry Calico. Nothing personal.” He kicked something under the table, and the ground went spilling out from under us.

(E1) Chapter 3: Quicklime

Falling was nothing new to me. Flying wasn’t exactly my special talent. But I’d never tried falling down a trapdoor at the bottom of a fancy dungeon before.

I don’t recommend it.

I smacked into the walls more than once, conscious of a distant gray glow and a squealing unicorn in the dark space with me. It sounded like Calico was running through the entire repertoire of profanity, and she was surprisingly colorful.

Non-flying ponies were all the same—a bit of a drop, and they were tumbling wildly, completely disoriented and utterly useless. The fact that Calico had managed to keep her horn glowing through all this was impressive in itself.

Of course, if I kept falling for much longer, I was going to hit something hard enough to do damage.

I spread my wings, angling into a dive that would catch Calico in my forelegs. I heard something tear as I smacked into her—but ignored it. Her screams gave me a good enough picture of the shaft to know that we were running out fast. Whatever was waiting for us at the bottom was hard and sharp.

One of her spinning hooves almost clipped me in the face, but I leaned to the side, and she only got my shoulder. Didn’t matter. “Stay still, princess!” I yelled, wrapping my forelegs around her as tight as I could. Then I spread my wings the rest of the way, catching as much of the air as I could.

The jerk of so much weight felt like it might rip my wings right off my back. I whimpered in pain, kicking out with my hind legs. But kicking didn’t slow us down. The ground was coming fast whether I liked it or not.

Sound told me there was a clear patch a little way out, and I aimed for that. We hit.

That would’ve been the end, if I hadn’t been fighting to slow us down until the last possible second. But instead of breaking every bone in our bodies, we bounced and rolled together, tearing Calico’s dress to shreds and getting thoroughly tangled.

Then we stopped, collapsing in a pile of limbs and bruises.

“I change my mind,” Calico said, after a few moments of heavy breathing and pained silence. “You aren’t interesting. You’re dangerous. ‘Go ahead and kill us please!’ Let’s just go ahead and tell the most important mare in the underworld to buck it. That certainly won’t turn against us almost immediately.” She tried to pull away, but that was no easy task. I was on top of at least two of her legs, and the twitch only ripped her dress a little more. “Perfect. Just perfect. How are you even still alive?”

“I don’t usually deal with…” I trailed off, freeing my forelegs. I wasn’t exactly in a terrible hurry to get away from Calico, but I knew she was. If she yanked just the wrong way, she might end up tearing my wings. Then I’d feel it. “I’ve never gone straight for the throat of organized crime before,” I eventually said, rising to my hooves and brushing myself off. “I’m good at finding lost things. But usually it’s because someone actually lost it, or maybe some petty criminal got a little too greedy. Nothing like this.”

Considering the tumble we’d just taken, I was lucky nothing was broken. I let out a few clicks, ears poised to hear the response echoes. We were at the bottom of a huge shaft, maybe at the bottom of Canterlot itself. That was a damn long way down. There were some bits of meaty organic debris down here with us—didn’t take a genius to figure out what they were, and I didn’t want to get close. We weren’t the first ones to take that tumble, though we might be the first ones to walk away.

“Welcome to the big leagues,” Calico said from beside me, rising up onto her own hooves. Her horn began to glow, spoiling my adjusting eyes—but there wasn’t any light down here anyway, so that was no harm done. “I’d give you a bucking medal if you hadn’t just gotten us killed.”

“I didn’t.” I grinned at her, though the look was apologetic. “No harm done. And we learned something important.”

“Yeah?” Calico made her way over, tearing her dress again. With an exaggerated sigh, she just ripped it the rest of the way off. Only her stockings remained underneath. “And what in Tartarus was that? No wait, we’re in Tartarus now.”

“Canterlot Caverns, actually,” I said. “I can hear the crystals all around us. I can feel some fresh air too—fifty bits says we can walk that way and end up near Ponyville. Then we just catch the morning express back into town.” My eyes widened. “I’m gonna be late for work.”

“Right. Bat,” Calico muttered, as though that were saying something. “Of course you know where to find a cave. And you have a map memorized. But you didn’t tell me what you learned.”

That wasn’t an accident. I was in no hurry to share what I’d learned with someone of questionable allegiance like Calico. It seemed damn unlikely she was on the same side as the ones who’d just tried to kill us, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t dirty. Just working for a different monster, maybe.

“The one who wanted us dead, Delirium. I’ve seen that name before… on a ledger I stole from a Golden Bliss speakeasy. Pretty sure it was an upper-level supplier. But I don’t understand what artifact thieves would have to do with drugs…”

Fancypants was the one whose wife had gone missing—vanished along with who knew how many bits into one of those awful lounges. The one who didn’t want ponies asking questions about the Soma Opal was Supply Chain’s distributor.

“Way out is over here,” I muttered into the silence, pointing. “Might as well set off.”

We walked in silence for a time, through the gloom of the cave. There were crystals all around us, sparkling rose quartz and other lesser gemstones that might be worth my life savings if I could get them out of here.

Of course it was all owned by the crown, just like everything. I wouldn’t be making a fortune in prospecting. Even the nobles hadn’t dared mine anything from down here, they’d just used it to do their dirty work.

“Thanks for saving my life,” Calico said, her voice distant. “Ordinarily I’d get real friendly with a pony who did that. But you also almost got me killed, so it isn’t as good.” Pause. “I’ll let you ask me out. Say… tomorrow night. When you go digging around after whoever Delirium is hiding.”

“It won’t be pretty,” I muttered. “Delirium’s type, I mean… they’re not like the ponies you wanted us to see. There’s this bar I know, real rough place. All the worst ponies in town go there. Figure there’s some tuff who met someone who owed some money to Delirium. Might have to start a few fights to get ponies talking.”

“Sounds exciting,” Calico muttered, grinning sidelong at me. “I can’t wait to see you in action. Maybe you’ll seem less suicidal around ponies like that.”

“Maybe,” I muttered. This was my last chance to send her off—I hadn’t given her the name of the place. Of course, I’d already told her more than I should have. Damn tongue has a mind of its own around pretty mares. It had some other ideas of what to do to Calico, too. I’d have to make sure I didn’t get ahead of myself.

And think of an excuse at work. I’ve never been late before…

Work didn’t go well.

I’d always known this was a risk—that one half of my life might interfere with the other. But I always thought it would be the years of sleep-deprivation that finally did it in for me, not getting dropped down a mountain.

Needless to say, I didn’t tell anypony that part.

My supervisor, Dewey Decimal, wasn’t having any of it. “Look, Midnight. You do good work. You’re one of the best ponies I’ve ever had for the vaults. That attention to detail, that memory—I thought one day you might be my replacement for Secret Lore. But now you’re giving me second thoughts. I don’t like that.”

“Me neither, sir,” I muttered, looking away. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“I can see you haven’t slept, Midnight. Why are you late, really?”

I hesitated, glancing once over my shoulder out of the office. Dewey Decimal was up on the top floor of the Archives, somewhere I rarely traveled. It was all noble ponies up here, with some kinda connection with the royal family. If they weren’t related to Celestia, they knew somepony who was.

“I lost track of time,” I muttered, shuffling uneasily. “I thought I’d be able to make it back into town before work.”

Dewey Decimal looked at me over his glasses, eyes narrowing. Then he shrugged. “I see. Well, Midnight, I had my secretary find your file for me. You haven’t taken a vacation day in three years.” He tapped the side of his head with one hoof. “Consider yourself on vacation as of the start of your shift. Don’t come back until you’ve worked this out. Understand?”

I rose from the uncomfortable chair, nodding respectfully. “I understand, sir.”

“Good.” He waved me out with a distracted hoof, and didn’t look back from his desk. I slipped out before he could change his mind.

Vacation. I’d made such a mess of things that they put me on leave. The Archives weren’t like working somewhere else in Canterlot—ponies lined up for years for the chance to work here. If I did something to blow my shot, I’d never get another.

I’ve got time saved up. I can use it to finish up this case. Despite my near-murder the night before, I was hardly discouraged. Dropping a bat down a hole into a cave was downright lazy as far as assassinations went. But I still planned on getting even. I’d never be able to reach the pony behind the counter—whoever it was would have friends so high up that guards wouldn’t even look into my report.

But I could catch the pony who’d ordered anypony looking into the Opal to be killed. Maybe before some other poor sap went looking who didn’t have the wings to fly out of it.

I didn’t go straight home, but detoured into an even nastier side of town. Where rows of houses settled on foundations so crooked the entire neighborhood leaned. I took off, not wanting my hooves anywhere near the street. I needed a little advice.

Quicklime’s door was on the third floor of one of the most precarious-looking flats, with several visible locks facing out at the street. I knocked twice with one hoof, paused, then twice more with the other before I rung the bell.

Then I heard an explosion.

A very quiet explosion, tucked away in the building. I glanced to the side, and sure enough a plume of something black was wafting out a rear window. Damn. He was working. Quicklime would certainly not be friendly with me now. I had half a mind to fly away right then, wait for him to cool down.

But that was my knock. He’d know it was me no matter how long I waited. I sighed, sat back on my haunches, and braced myself for him.

The door swung open a crack, catching on a chain with links almost as thick as my hooves. “What the buck do you want?”

Quicklime was an earth pony, his short mane swept back and stained black. A pair of goggles rested there, smeared with soot.

“Hey Quicklime.” I tried to smile up at him—but I didn’t feel much like smiling right now. He must’ve seen that, because his face twisted into a glower even darker than mine. “Have time for a consultation? I need your magic.”

“What you need is a damn shower. Maybe some manners.” He smacked the door closed. “You just cost me twenty grams of aluminum. You know how much that costs?”

I didn’t, but from how angry he sounded I could guess it was an awful lot of bits.

“I’ll pay you back!” I promised, voice desperate. “Come on, Quicklime. I’ve got a real interesting one for you this time.”

“Yeah?” He didn’t even open the door, though he had stopped. I didn’t hear hooves walking away. “Prove it.”

I pressed my muzzle right up to the mail slot, whispering into it. “I’m searching for the Soma Opal. Ever heard of it?”

The reaction was immediate. I heard locks started sliding open, one after another. It took Quicklime almost a full minute to get the door open. Eventually it did, and he stepped to the side. The inside of Quicklime’s flat was thick with the smell of something burned. “You aren’t leading me on?” he asked, suspicious. “Someone stole the Opal from the Archives? You got a royal case?”

“Not… exactly,” I muttered, once I was inside. “Got loaned out to a magic expert. But the rich pony thought it was a good idea to put it on display while he was studying, and I guess somepony heard about it.”

“Typical,” Quicklime muttered, rolling his eyes. “Bits for brains, all think the same way.” He slid past me, locking up the door secure enough that the Equestrian Army would have trouble getting in. Only when it was secure did he finally turn around. “Well Midnight, what did you think you needed me for? Unless you brought the thing here to help with my alchemy… which I’d be very excited to hear… but I can tell from the way you smell that isn’t the case.”

“The way I…”

He nodded. “Someone dropped you in a well, didn’t they? Finally stuck that pretty face into somepony’s business who didn’t want you there.”

“Canterlot Caverns, actually.” I grinned at him. “I think they actually expected it to work. Killing a pony with wings with a long fall… stupid.” I turned, following the direction of the smoke to the lab. “I think I’m going to need more antidote,” I called, expecting him to follow.

And he did, slipping past me before I could make it halfway to the lab. The ancient floors creaked under our hooves, shifting with the weight of years.

The lab itself was familiar to me, right down to the clouds of caustic smoke. Glassware lined the walls, and a shelf on one wall was completely covered with tiny boxes. I’d long wondered where Quicklime got the bits to pay for all this, but he’d never answered.

“You want more… that means it worked,” he said, approaching a complex distilling apparatus and nudging it with one hoof. “You found your Jane Doe.”

I nodded. “Exactly as intended. I’ve never seen a pony recover that quick. Not that I didn’t expect success. You haven’t led me wrong before.”

Quicklime went to work in front of me, his motion practically a blur as he dug through vials and drawers, turned up the heat on a burner, never stopping for a moment.

“So how do you know about the Opal?” I asked, sitting down on my haunches to watch. “Ever since I started searching for it, it seems everypony knows more about it than I do.”

Quicklime glanced over his shoulder at me, annoyed. “Alchemy, obviously. The Soma Opal is one of the six perfect reagents. Purity, to be precise. It might have lots of other properties, but that’s why it would matter to me. So far as I know, that was all that was ever discovered about it.”

I could feel the wheels turning in my mind. I’d heard the Soma Opal had something to do with mind magic—how could it be an alchemical object as well? Unless those weren’t mutually exclusive. Maybe that was what a “perfect reagent” was?

This case was more connected than I’d thought. “I gave you that sample of Golden Bliss, do you still have it?”

Quicklime nodded, confused. “Yeah, why?”

“Do you think there’s any chance the Opal was used to make it? Or… distill it? Maybe by an alchemist like you?”

Quicklime stopped what he was doing, staring at me. He moved in a rush, darting over to the other side of the room, removing the little vial of the stuff I’d given to him when I needed an antidote. Half of it was empty now—probably used on his analyzation table.

“Describe the symptoms for me again,” he said, holding it up to the light.

“Uh…” I took a deep breath. “Euphoria, contentment, confusion, memory loss, suggestibility…” There was quite a bit more—the side of the person actually experiencing it. If it made it hard to pee, I didn’t know. “Maybe some other things. That’s probably what I told you last time.”

“Well, the Opal doesn’t make anything,” Quicklime muttered. “It takes something you have and makes it purer. Pour water over it, and it’ll be the cleanest, most healing water you ever had. Take dirty brown oil, and it’ll be pure enough to fry some hay. Golden Bliss could be made that way. But if that’s true, the Opal would just be another step in the process. It still had to be refined from something.”

So maybe I couldn’t tie this whole thing up in a neat little bow, not yet. But there was probably something there. “I hear Bliss is like… all the fun and contentment you’d have spending time with friends and lovers. Ponies sometimes take it over sex. I wonder if there’s some kind of… friendship chemical they could refine.”

Quicklime shrugged, removing a vial of something blue from his apparatus. “Well, here you go. Antidote. It’s all you’re getting out of me today, so make it count. And if you find that Opal, bring it here. What I could do with just a few minutes in my lab…”

“No promises,” I said, snatching the vial and slipping it away. In reality I didn’t dream of letting him near it, not even for a second. Knowing Quicklime, he’d have the whole thing dissolved in a vat of oil of vitriol before the hour was out, and I’d be the one left to explain it to the princess.

He waved me out with one hoof. “Go on then. Don’t die.”

“Oh, and I’m grabbing some more boom-juice! I won’t tell them I got it from you!” I slipped out before he could object, ignoring his trail of shouted profanity.

Despite my boss’s kind wishes for me, sleep would have to wait. There was some old-fashioned detective work to get done before evening—digging through the ledger I’d found in Supply Chain’s place, comparing it with a few maps of the city. I had to call in a few favors at the precinct station to find what I was looking for… Delirium’s hideout.

It was almost nightfall then, but I managed to get a quick nap before it was time to head out for the bar.

I made it to the Drowned Mare before Calico did, and took a seat at my usual table with my usual refreshment.

“Busy night?” Swill asked, as he slid over a full glass of mango juice. I sipped it with glee, nodding emphatically. “Biggest of my career, Swill. When this is over, I’m gonna be a big shot. My name will be up in lights.”

“Just as long as it ain’t in the obituaries.” Swill nodded. “And you don’t bring no trouble to my place.”

He wandered off, trailing the smell of salt and alcohol all the way.

Calico didn’t keep me waiting long. I’d polished off my first glass and was working on my second when a gorgeous mare wearing orange silk stumbled in like a very lost tourist. I could feel all the eyes in the place lock on her—some sympathetic, others hungry. She was a mark plenty of ponies here wouldn’t let pass by.

I rose from my table “Good to see you, Calico!” I called, loud enough that everypony in the Drowned Mare would hear me. It was a statement as clear as any I could’ve made—she was off limits. “Come on, we’ve got a train to catch.” I ushered her towards the door, before she could get too interested in what was going on near the bar.

“Really?” she asked, as we slipped outside the door. “That doesn’t make sense. Delirium isn’t in the city?”

“No, she is,” I answered in a whisper. “But those are some rough ponies. None of them will try to mug you if they think we’re going together. They know I won’t let it happen.”

“My knight in shining armor,” Calico answered, her tone stretched far into mockery. “So where are we going?”

I pointed away from the main thoroughfare. “There’s a sewer access down here. It connects to another part of the Canterlot Caverns—one that doesn’t lead to our demise. I’m pretty sure Delirium is making the stuff there, or at least importing it through there.”

“Cool,” she said. We walked in silence for a few seconds, quiet enough for me to keep checking over my shoulder and make sure we weren’t being followed.

“Do you actually have a plan? For when we get there?”

I nodded.

“And you… Are you going to let me in on this plan?”

“Get the Opal,” I said, thinking back to the vials I’d brought from Quicklime. “No offense, Calico, but the less I tell you about it, the less that they can get out of you if you get caught.” Or if you’ve been on their side the whole time.

I didn’t really think that, not after she’d been dumped out of the world with me. But I couldn’t be sure, and I wasn’t about to gamble my life on a pony I couldn’t trust. If we got out of this tonight, I would probably trust her… but if we got out of this, Calico would be back to a life of luxury, and I’d probably never see her again.

I stopped at the metal grate to the sewer, sticking out my wing to block her. “Calico, I think this is your stop. This has been fun, but… somepony tried to kill us last night. This isn’t your case. There’s nothing for you here.”

“Not quite nothing.” She grinned sweetly at me, walking past me in a way obviously meant to let me feel every inch of her. And I did—but I didn’t let it distract me, honest. I was too professional for that. “I haven’t proved my innocence yet, Midnight Oil. If I go in there with you, I can. Maybe become a bit of a national hero too, while I’m at it. Even if there aren’t any bits in it for me, the publicity will be huge. Think about it, Midnight. You want to be a big investigator. You don’t want ponies all over Equestria learning your name, your face. You don’t want every criminal out there to shut things down and run away the moment you show up.”

“I… I guess not. I’m not really following you.”

Her grin got wider. “We finish this together. You get your payoff from Fancypants, and he puts in a good word for you with all the ponies who matter. Meanwhile, I’m the one who goes into the tabloids. Private eye Calico, super sleuth from Mazuma. The elite will eat it all up—”

“And you reap the rewards. All the interviews, the exclusives. We really shut down Golden Bliss, and you’re practically a national hero.”

“Shut down Golden Bliss?” she repeated. “What does that have to do with the Opal?”

Damn those hips. I hadn’t told her my suspicion, and I hadn’t really planned to. “Nevermind,” I muttered, looking hastily away. “I see your point. Maybe it’s a good idea. If anyone wants you to investigate anything else, you could send them my way. And you deal with all the fame, so I can keep working. That doesn’t do us any good if Delirium has something more deadly than a hole hidden away down here. If you die and it’s my fault.”

“We won’t, trust me! I know that look—you’ve got a plan. Bats are sneaky, I’m sneaky. We don’t have to fight anypony if we just sneak the Opal away.”

Something moved behind us. I saw it out of the corner of my eye, feeling it before I registered it on a conscious level. Our little corner of the alley was suddenly packed with ponies, all watching with grim expressions. Few of them had drawn weapons, but all of them were wearing some, tucked cleverly away.

“You’re coming with us,” said a stocky stallion at the front of the group, looking like each of his hooves could hold up a building or two. “Back it up, nice and slow. Don’t make us ask unkindly.”

I raised my wings, spread in a universal sign of surrender.

(E1) Chapter 4: Delirium

I took little pride in being right. The guards searched us right there on the street, though they didn’t find much. I had a knife kept somewhere obvious, and a few tools I’d hidden away a little better. Calico hadn’t brought anything they cared about, though they stole her little pouch of bits and seemed to enjoy just how hurt it made her look. I hope that isn’t everything you had left.

We went straight into the sewer entrance I’d found, then down a series of tunnels until it connected with the caverns.

Instead of dark and secret, the whole place was a flurry of activity. Dozens of ponies rushed about in a single vaulted cavern—pulling empty carts in, or taking away full carts with clinking bottles. There were numerous little tents, like a compact city hidden in the caves. I would’ve been impressed with the place, if it didn’t seem so oppressive.

There were guards down here, but not wearing city armor. A constant stink of unwashed bodies and desperation seemed to fill the whole cavern, rising up through the caves above us to infect all of Canterlot. It didn’t take much looking around to see that most of the ponies here weren’t sticking around by choice.

There had to be a dozen prisoners at least, wearing crude wooden hobbles around their hooves and wandering inside the little prison. Maybe it was the harsh torchlight, but the color was washed from their bodies, and their steps seemed halfhearted. Like they kept living on pure spite.

“How can this be down here?” Calico whispered to me, when the sound of whatever these ponies were doing got loud enough that our conversation would be hard to hear. “Princess Celestia wouldn’t let this happen, would she?”

Typical upper district. Even a unicorn down on her luck like Calico trusted to the royal family with everything she had. Even when the evidence against it stared her in the face. “No, she wouldn’t,” I agreed. “But what she doesn’t know can’t be fixed, can it?”

“Quiet!” barked the stout escort, silencing us. We could share no more than a meaningful look as we continued on past the camp.

I half feared we might get tossed in with the other ponies right then—though I was confident in my ability to get away. Except that all these ponies are letting us see them. I’ve memorized their cutie marks. If they didn’t care about witnesses, then…

“In there,” the guard said, pointing to an ordinary door set into the wall. Compared to the chaos behind us, it seemed completely out of place, with fine wood and carpet visible within. There was the steady glow of electric lights coming from within as well, shining in even contrast to the torches outside.

I stopped at the door, eyeing it suspiciously. Our escort didn’t appreciate the delay, and I felt a painful shove on my flank, tripping me through the doorway. I expected Calico would be tumbling in behind me any second, but she squealed in protest, jerking suddenly away from me. “MIDNIGHT!”

I tried to get around to look at her, but I was too slow.

The door snapped closed behind me, and I could hear the sound of locks securing into place. I surged forward, pounding on it with my hooves, but to no avail. The wood didn’t even budge.

“They better not hurt you, Calico,” I muttered, turning slowly around. There was no use trying to break the door down more forcefully, not yet. If there were still all the guards on the other side, they would only rush in and put an end to my escape. Then I’d be out my only weapon and still trapped.

They put me in here for a reason. What is it? I turned slowly around, trying to take in every detail of my surroundings as quickly as I could.

The room hardly seemed like a torture chamber. It looked like a modest but comfortable Canterlot apartment, rather like the one I lived in. All one room—kitchen, sitting area, bedroom in one corner. There was a single door on the far wall that would’ve led to the bathroom if this was really what it appeared. The decorations were all simple, but charming. Though how they’d got electricity all the way down here I couldn’t even guess.

“I heard you were asking after me,” said a voice from the other side of the room. Had somepony been standing there before?

There was a mare there now—an earth pony almost as tall as I was, lean with age and maybe a little griffon blood. At least, I assumed that was one explanation for how she could look like she wanted to tear my throat out. She wore simple white clothing, not all that different from the outfits Quicklime wore on a daily basis. The clothes somepony wore who didn’t want to get splashed.

“You’re Delirium,” I said, turning to face her. I stood alert, without making any sudden movements. If this was the boss, then I was in serious danger here. I wouldn’t have been locked in here alone unless she didn’t feel like she was in any danger.

“And you’re still alive,” she answered, seating herself comfortably on one of the sofas. She didn’t seem to be wearing weapons—certainly nothing as bulky as a crossbow. Then again, earth ponies were like living weapons themselves if I got too close. I didn’t get any closer. “That’s impressive. Few ponies recover fast enough to land in the dark. I suppose those ears are an unfair advantage.”

“Are you trying to recruit me?” I sat down on my haunches across the room, giving her the harshest of my dirty looks. “It won’t work. I don’t want what you’re selling.”

She shrugged one shoulder, golden fur shifting under the coat. “You might want to think twice about that. I looked you up, Midnight Oil.” Her grin widened—she’d seen my discomfort. “You’re lucky—no one for me to manipulate. No family in town I could arrange something unfortunate to happen to. Far as I can tell, you live alone in some flat, working your life away on something dull and thankless and just pretending your work matters. Well, how about a change? Anypony who can find me is obviously wasting their powers as another cog in the machine. Break free of all those sprockets and let somepony else move you.”

I couldn’t let my relief show. She hadn’t figured out about Quicklime, or my dad’s flat down in Ponyville. I certainly wasn’t going to explain her mistakes. “And what would you offer instead? I know what you’re dealing in, Delirium. I know this is where the Bliss comes from.”

She stiffened in her seat—apparently she hadn’t thought I’d connected those dots. “If you know about the Bliss, then you should know you’re wrong. I don’t deal in suffering—I make ponies happy. I bring them joy. Bliss. But you wouldn’t have to get your hooves dirty with any of that. No, you have access to the Archives. You could get into the Vault, and all the artifacts it contains. You know the Opal is one of six objects like it. If a pony had them all…” She let that hang in the air.

“Why don’t we skip to the part where I tell you to shove your offer to Tartarus,” I growled, baring my fangs. “What happens next?”

She sighed, rising from the couch and looking away. “Then I send Slipwing in here to suck every drop of love and happiness in your body. It’s not her natural method of feeding. I think you’ll find it’s quite miserable for both of you. But I’ll enjoy it very much.”

I shrugged, as though I didn’t care. “I don’t know what you’re talking about… but I think you’ll find it’s not that easy. Your stupid trapdoor didn’t kill me. That won’t either.”

She shrugged, turning to go. “Oh, it won’t kill you. Not for a few months. But I’ll make sure you never leave this facility. I’ll make sure that by the time we bury you, there’s less left than those husks outside. And when she’s done with you, I’ll send your friend in next, and we can see if she’s more cooperative.”

She left, snapping the door shut behind her. I didn’t try to follow.

That left me alone in the silence—alone with my two hidden vials the guards hadn’t found. I didn’t have much time alone.

I darted into a corner of the room, away from any glass, facing into the walls. I wasn’t sure what she was using to watch, but hopefully it wouldn’t work. I drained half the antidote vial, then tucked it away into an easier-to-reach pocket.

I’d never drank this particular potion before—but it was so sour going down that I almost started retching. I resisted the urge, straightened and returned to the chair. I picked the large mirror and stared straight into it, defiant. Let Delirium see just how little I was frightened over her.

The door opened again, and immediately I felt something tugging at my mind. Magic, oppressive and overpowering, wrapping around my senses like a vice. Somehow I knew it was supposed to be sensual, but for some reason I could only feel nausea bubbling in my stomach.

I was right. Thanks for the antidote, Quicklime.

Then I looked up, and saw Calico standing there. Except… something was wrong. She no longer seemed afraid, or even smugly confident. If anything, she looked like there was a sway to her step, eyes just a tiny bit glazed. She was trying for seductive, but what she actually looked was drunk.

“Calico?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “What are you… doing in here?” I watched her approach, conscious of how the world kept shifting. The closer she got, the more sick to my stomach I felt, and the more wrong she looked.

I backed away, eyes getting a little wider. It looked almost as though the edges of her body were fraying, and there was something black and hard underneath. What kind of magic is this? Luna, Celestia, someone! Get me out of here!

Of course they didn’t answer. “I’ve been following you around for too long,” said the thing that looked a little like Calico. “I’ve seen how you looked at me. I know what you want. I’m yours now, Midnight. I’m ready for you.”

Maybe I would’ve fallen for it—if I hadn’t just taken an antidote and heard Delirium ranting about how I would be an empty husk. But why did she look like that?

I had an idea.

“Sure, Calico.” I stepped forward, fighting my revulsion. Her curves looked stretched to me, her seductive scent tinged with something rotting. Sure as Tartarus you never wore that perfume, kid. “It’s true. I’ve wanted you for all this time. I didn’t make it a secret.”

“And now you never have to,” she said, stopping just in front of me. Her eyes traveled down my body, magic gently tugging at my coat. “Come on, Midnight. We’re alone. We should… enjoy our time together.”

My head swam. Even with the antidote, I was starting to lose sight of just how strange Calico was acting. She was so close, and it’d been so long since I’d been with someone like her. It wouldn’t be hard to give in.

I leaned forward to kiss her, slow and nervous.

She leaned forward to meet me, letting me take my time. Her eyes were closed, just like the hint of shyness I would’ve expected from the real Calico.

Instead of meeting her lips, I tilted the glass vial down her throat with the rest of the antidote, yanking her head back with my other hoof. I held her mouth closed, fangs inches from her throat. “You’ll wanna swallow that, sweetheart. Or this will go badly.”

I held on, glaring my fiercest slitted-eye glare for this Calico imposter until I saw her throat move. Then I let go, and let her struggle away from me like a mouse caught in a cage with a cat.

She opened her mouth to say something—then she melted.

The fur puffed away in a flash of green magic, and suddenly I could see the hard, black thing underneath clearly. Her eyes became multifaceted and insectoid, her body smaller and legs pierced with… holes?

And around her neck, set into a thick iron collar with a huge lock at the back, was a black opal that swirled and shattered the light into a dozen rainbows.

I knew what this was. She was a changeling, one of the same creatures that had briefly taken over the city a few years back. Suddenly what Delirium had said about harvesting and sucking dry made perfect sense. Have you been here this whole time, hiding underground?

No, not hiding. Captured. As she watched me, the changeling didn’t look like an invading conqueror. “What… happened? I can… why was I doing that?” Her voice shook me to my gut, reverberating and stretched. It was hard not to be revolted.

And maybe another pony would’ve been. But I’ve been around Canterlot a long time. Ponies have looked at me that way, whispered how I was scary and dangerous too. How many bats lived in the upper city? None I knew.

“You’ve been captured,” I muttered, though I didn’t close the distance between us. That would only look threatening to her. “Enslaved. Probably Delirium had you drunk on the same poison you were giving me. I just gave you an antidote.”

“Delirium,” she repeated, slumping into a corner. “She won’t be happy. When she figures out I’m not feeding on you… she’ll hurt me. Hurt you too.”

“No,” I said, voice firm. “What’s your name, kid?”

She looked almost indignant. Whatever she was expecting from my reaction, this wasn’t it. “Slipwing,” she said, voice very small. “Aren’t you afraid?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Afraid of getting trapped down here.” I slipped my coat off, tossing it to her. It would be a little big on her, probably drag like nopony’s business. “Put this on, and come with me. I know someone who can get that collar off.”

Her wings buzzed angrily, and she surged over to me. I was almost afraid, except that she was unarmed and a full head shorter than I was. What was she going to do, bug me to death? “Why are you helping me? We attacked you!” she exclaimed, hovering above the ground and glaring at me.

I shrugged. “We can get philosophical about it later. For now, put that on and stand away from that door.” I drew out my other vial, filled as it was with angry green. It was safe so long as it stayed sealed. I made my way over to the door, and shouted through it. “Calico, get away from the door!”

There was an angry grunt on the other side—one of the guards. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Good enough for me. I shoved Slipwing to the side with me, and threw the vial against the door with all my might.

The resulting explosion shook the cavern above us, and sent bits of crystal tumbling down somewhere far away. I heard them strike with a sound like shattering glass.

But I couldn’t wait. “Come on, Slipwing! We’re getting out of here!”

I looked back at where she’d been standing, and saw myself wearing the coat. Well, what I might’ve looked like if I’d been on the edge of terror. She kept looking back at the other door, and sure enough I could hear the locks from within shifting and moving. Somepony was coming.

Just outside, a group of guards had scattered from all around the door, looking like they’d all been too banged up to chase me anytime soon. Calico had apparently obeyed my instructions, because she only looked stunned. I bent down, tearing through the bindings around her hooves with my teeth, then gestured up towards the ceiling. There was light coming from up above.

“Slipwing, can you help me carry her?”

The copy of me nodded, then answered with my voice. “I am not a very good flyer.”

“Neither am I. Just help me. Loop Calico’s leg there, and… we’re out.”

Then I looked up, and saw that someone else had the same idea. It was Delerium’s retreating back, carrying heavy saddlebags of equipment and with only a single guard to protect her.

She’s making a run for it. She knows we’re about to tell the authorities about this place. But the ocean of guards didn’t seem to know that, and they surged towards us again, ready to latch on. I could hear screaming from all around us—terrified yells from the prisoners, shouting guards.

Another day, Delirium. I would’ve rather gone after her, but not with one drugged pony and one terrified prisoner to get to safety. I’ll find you.

Slipwing wasn’t a very good flyer, but we didn’t have far to go. Sixty or so feet up, and the ceiling opened into another sewer access. We landed in a heap, the sound of pursuit all around us.

Calico was still swaying on her hooves, looking drowsy from whatever they’d given her. She’d need some antidote when we got to Quicklime’s place. If we could make it to Quicklime’s place.

We ran.

Calico was alert again by the time we found our first locked door, and she teleported the lock to the backside of not here. I kicked it out of our way, along with several “No Trespassing” signs. We trespassed right over them and stumbled out onto a lower-district street.

I tossed the leather case holding the Soma Opal onto the table at Fancypants’s hooves, trying to look as cool and professional as I could while I did it. Slipwing had torn my jacket several new rips along the way, but that didn’t matter. That would only make me look cooler. “I believe this is what you were looking for.”

Fancypants eyed me skeptically. “Friend on the constabulary told me you were involved in something last night. You found where they were making the Golden Bliss, didn’t you?”

I nodded, leaning over the seat across from him. I didn’t actually sit in it, though I didn’t anticipate having to make any kind of narrow escape. Not tonight. “Did you hear if they caught Delirium?” Calico had been the one to give the tip, and we hadn’t stuck around to watch the investigation. But the tabloids were buzzing about the ponies rescued from in there, hospitals at capacity, all that.

Fancypants’s eyebrows went up, and that was all the answer I needed. “She got away.”

His horn glowed, and the little pouch opened in front of him. There was the Opal, none the worse for wear for sitting in Quicklime’s shop most of the night. He’d dissolved the iron collar well enough, but not that.

Fancypants seemed prepared for this test—he opened a drawer, drew out a glass of something green and thick, and dropped the Opal into it. It sizzled and smoked, and I watched the contents boil away to a thin layer of something almost clear, gathered near the bottom. “You actually did it.”

I nodded. “I went to Tartarus and back for that thing.” Maybe it hadn’t been wise to bring it right back to him. Maybe I should’ve done something to guarantee I’d be paid.

But no—Fancypants was already reaching into another drawer. He lifted out a small case, then opened it to expose the strips of platinum inside. Each one counted for a thousand bits. There was twice what I was expecting. “All this if you can tell me how the Opal was stolen in the first place.

I did know, now. Calico had been right all along about the guards acting weird. Because that guard had been Slipwing, and the real one had been in no condition to guard anything. There would be something sweet about seeing that jerk get a little of what was coming to him. But that would mean bringing Slipwing out into the light. She’d been the one producing the Golden Bliss—even if she hadn’t meant to, even if she’d been enslaved.

I knew how this worked. If she went into the Equestrian justice system, it would grind her to dust. “You didn’t hire me for that,” I said instead. “I’m no good with security—I just find things.”

Fancypants sighed, then removed a little pouch and dumped half the strips of platinum into it. He passed me the half-empty case. “Very well. You’ve clearly done your side of the bargain. Is there any particular reason somepony else is taking credit for it?” He tossed something else onto the desk between us.

The Canterlot Questioner. With Calico’s face grinning out on the cover. “Calico Mazuma Smashes Bliss Cartel” it said.

I only smiled, tucking the case of payment away. It was more money than I’d held in my life, but I would keep acting cool. “I don’t want ponies knowing who I am,” I said. “But my partner enjoys the spotlight.”

“I didn’t know you had a partner.”

I shrugged, rising to my hooves. “Guess I do now.”

“I hope you don’t mind, but the sort of pony who needs services like yours don’t go to the tabloids. I may call on you again in the future. You’ve prevented a dangerous embarrassment for my family.”

“Sure,” I answered. “Sounds great. But I might have a new office next time. I’m sick of that closet.”

“You sure you wouldn’t rather get out of the city?” I asked, for the third or fourth time.

We stood in a tiny flat—the one I now owned thanks to one of Fancypants’s platinum bits.

Slipwing didn’t seem to even see the dingy walls, the worn-out furniture. The changeling grinned up at me like I’d just set a feast before her fit for a princess.

“You don’t know what this means to me,” she said, wrapping her forelegs around me in a hug. It felt a little strange, fur on hard shell like that. But not a bad strange. “I always wanted to live here. I think I’ve learned how to be a pony after all… after everything Delirium made me do. She won’t find me.”

“Don’t let the constabulary find you either,” Calico said, emerging from the kitchen with a nervous look on her face. “Just because none of your neighbors will ask questions doesn’t mean they’re blind.” Was that a sour look on Calico’s face? Was she actually jealous?

I felt myself grinning wider at that.

“I know,” Slipwing said again. “I’ll be careful. Thank you both for everything. And tell the… smelly one I’m grateful for him too.”

“I’ll tell him you called him that.”

We left down the back stairs, slipping out into a Canterlot night of blowing fog. Slipwing’s new flat wasn’t far from where I lived—though I didn’t want Calico to know that.

She watched me with an expression I couldn’t read. Maybe desire, maybe just indigestion. “You think you did the right thing, letting her go like that? After what her kind did to Canterlot?”

I shrugged. “It’s in the past. Bats like me weren’t exactly kind to Equestria way back when either. But things change. Rebellions end, invasions fail, and the ponies left behind just want a friend.”

She rolled her eyes. “If you say so, Midnight Oil.”

“I do,” I said, holding out a little pouch towards her. “Take it. Don’t open it here—too many eyes watching us.”

She shook the bag in her magic, listening to the sound of metal clinking around inside. Then she tucked it away. “I never asked for any bits.”

“Maybe not,” I agreed. “But you’ll need some. Don’t lose your house. I’ve got more than enough to go part time at the Archives while I focus a little more on investigating. I kind of told Fancypants you’re my partner now, so I hope it’s true.”

“Let me think about it,” she said. Then she kissed me.

Author's Note

This story is now marked complete, but it might better be said that it's 'complete for now.' It's possible there will be more episodes in the future, more adventures for Midnight Oil and her friends. If that happens, I'll change the status back to 'incomplete.'

But since I don't know when that might be, I'll just mark it as complete for the time being.

(E1) Chapter 1: The Soma Opal

Canterlot: jewel of Equestria, city on a hill. They said the castle could look out and see half the kingdom on a clear night. City of bronze rooftops, granite promenades, and cascading waterfalls.

Well, that was how the tourists saw it. The upper city could seem that way, if you could afford to live there. But most ponies can’t. Instead of gated gardens and sparkling towers, most of us live in the lower city, where the shadows of fancy castles and mansions are always in view.

I took a moment to stare at the upper tier, right as a huge bank of clouds came in from the west. The whole city seemed to vanish into the fog, stained orange by the brand-new streetlights.

“I said, you want another?” barked a voice from behind me, grinding on my ears like gravel rolling down a hill.

I was sitting at a back corner of Swill’s bar, the Drowned Mare. I tipped my hat to the old griffon, shaking my head. “Sorry, Swill. Working tonight.”

He grunted, shuffling off without another word. The old man and I had an understanding, ever since I’d helped him rescue the deed to this place and saved it from foreclosure. Weren’t a lot of bits to go around in the old city, but that rarely mattered. Favors counted for more anyway.

The pony I was waiting for stumbled in about ten minutes later, looking like he’d already been to a few bars trying to find me. Or searching for the bottom of as many bottles as he could.

“I need… swill, Swill,” he said, raising a shaking hoof.

The griffon looked up from behind the bar. It wasn’t exactly a busy night—wasn’t a weekend—but the regulars were all here. His good eye darkened, fixing on Empty Chalice. “I cut you off yesterday, Chalice. Get out.”

“Wait!” He didn’t wait. By the time Empty Chalice had noticed me, he’d been thrown out of the bar by an indignant Swill. I darted after him into the darkened streets, before he could fall off a balcony and ruin all my hard work.

“Hey, Chalice!” I slipped up behind him, though I kept my distance. Empty Chalice was the sort of pony who spent their evenings in bars, then sobered up in the morning at a salt lick somewhere else. “You come through for me, or what?”

He stopped, eyes half-glazed. “I… yeah, Midnight. I got it,” He fumbled in his saddlebags for a second, coming up with a stained bit of paper. I caught it with a batlike wing before it could blow away. “Directions. Don’t really seem like the kind of place… for a mare like you.” He swayed for a few more seconds. “But if you go, you should get me some. That would be… would be good.”

“Sorry, Empty Chalice.” I was already turning to go. “Take care of yourself.”

“You shouldn’t go,” he called after me, voice already fading. “Supply Chain’s got guards. Roughest ponies you ever saw. I don’t think they’ll hesitate to hit a mare.”

“Then it’s a good thing I can hit back.” I left him outside Swill’s. I didn’t have to search out a working streetlight to read the map I’d bought—one of the advantages of being a bat was that I could always count of my eyes, even in the middle of the night. Even when there was no light at all I had my ways of getting around, though that wouldn’t do much good for reading.

The stained paper pointed me to my target—a storage building located under a shady resale shop near the wharf. Apparently that was where Supply Chain had set up—and where my target was hiding.

I tucked the map away into my trenchcoat, setting off towards the wharf as quick as I could. There was no mistaking the bright red light, coming on and off all night. Airships were always coming in, bringing crates of expensive things for the ponies in the upper city. Every few minutes another horn would blare, signaling another ship waiting for a tug.

How deep are you hiding, Fleur, I thought as I walked, turning over the investigation so far. I didn’t how she’d gotten into this mess—only that half of Equestria seemed to be looking for her.

“You aren’t the only investigator I’ve hired,” Mr. Noumenon had said, a week ago. “You aren’t even the best.” The unicorn stallion had seemed disgusted by my back-corner office. He wasn’t the only one—it was barely larger than a closet, one of the cheapest rooms that could be rented in Equestria. Of course, he didn’t know this wasn’t my whole life. Nopony did.

“I think you’ll be surprised,” I had told him, grinning across my desk. “When I bring Fleur back to you first.”

He only laughed, tossing my retainer across the desk at me like it might bite him. But it was more than I’d ever had for a case—enough to rent a better room.

Maybe this is it. My big break. It wasn’t impossible. Ponies could turn their hobbies into careers. This job could be my ticket out of the Archives for good.

There was an unusually large crowd of ponies on the dock tonight, huddled together in small groups against the thickening fog. I took to the air, gliding high enough above them that most of them wouldn’t be able to see me. A few seemed like they might be lookouts. I didn’t intend to let them spot me.

Down a crooked alley that smelled like rotting fish, and I finally found the place Empty Chalice had described. There was no writing on the door, just the carved image of an overflowing drinking horn. The same one I’d found at the last place. Please Luna, let them still be here.

I wasn’t the only one hunting Supply Chain, not by a long shot. The Royal Guard were trying to track them down. They weren’t doing a good job—Supply Chain was always just one step ahead. But I could move faster than the guard. I didn’t need a warrant, I didn’t need royal approval. A little lockpicking, a little elbow grease… and I could get in just about anywhere.

Not that lockpicking would help me now. The door was unlocked.

The interior of the room was low, even for a slum. The room was thick with the smell of disappointment and old dreams and lit only with a few tiny candles. Somepony had stacked a few rough boxes near the front, and that was apparently serving for the counter. There wasn’t much there—the boxes looked like they’d been used to hold merchandise. An identical-looking crate was on the other side, half empty.

There, standing behind the bar, was Supply Chain. He was tall, even taller than I was, with a hooked nose and too-dark eyes. To him, I was nopony. But not after tonight. When you’re rotting in jail Chain, you can remember my name.

Behind the counter were a series of low booths, also made of old crates. There wasn’t any padding, or any sign of amenities. From the smell, it seemed that many of these “customers” had been here most of the night.

“You,” called Chain, gesturing urgently. “You’re here for a little love, yeah? I know that look.”

“Sure,” I said. It wasn’t hard for me to act shy—avoiding his eyes, shuffling about, tucking my tail. It was what ponies like Supply Chain expected when they saw me. Almost made me invisible.

But he wasn’t invisible to me, nor was anything else in here. I took in all the details—the list across the table, folded leather folio with names printed in it. Bingo! Bet Chain was dumb enough to keep his supplier’s name written there. If not, I’d soon find out. But I would have to be careful—I could see several burly stallions waiting in the gloom, looking very much awake. They pretended to flop about in a stupor like the other ponies here, but I knew better. One of them was a bat, and only focus could make eyes go to slits like that. He’s staring at me.

“I got what you need,” Chain said, slapping the little glass bottle on the table. It looked like it’d probably held some kind of glue before, and hadn’t been washed out all the way. The fluid inside was like nothing I’d ever seen before, though I’d heard the stories. Bright gold one moment, but it changed to green whenever a hoof got close. When Chain pulled his hoof away, it went back to yellow. Like a few drops of sunshine, bottled and ready to drink. “Purer than anywhere else in the city. Purest you can get in Equestria. Just fifty for the bottle.”

Yikes. That kind of money and I’d be out of a retainer in no time. Makes sense. I’m not looking for some mare off the street. They all say Supply Chain is the best. “Here.” I lifted the little bag of bits with my retainer inside, making to open it. I fumbled at the last second, falling over the edge of the counter. Hopefully Chain didn’t notice the way my wing extended, slipping across to where the leather folio had been tossed. Bits bounced everywhere, spilling all over the counter, and I acted as embarrassed as I could. It wasn’t much of an act—I could feel eyes on me.

“Sorry, sorry! I just… I’ve never come to a place like this before.” That wasn’t the voice of Midnight Oil, PI. That was the voice of Midnight the associate librarian, Canterlot Archive. The way I probably sounded whenever an important pony came to get something out of the vault.

It worked. Chain probably thought he was clever, slipping away many of my bits as he helped gather them back up. There had been a hundred in there when I dumped it. There were barely fifty by the time we’d piled them back up. “I can see you need it,” Chain said, pulling out a second, half-empty bottle. “I’ll take all this, you can have both. You’ll feel better.”

I nodded, taking both bottles with the coordination of someone who looked like she might drop them in a moment. “Just… anywhere?”

“Anywhere.” Chain said, his voice laced with greed. Maybe he saw the flank of a pony from the upper city, who had bits to burn and didn’t particularly care how many she spent. I wondered how long it would be before he saw his ledger was missing.

Not much time. He wouldn’t get this far by keeping hay in his brains.

I slipped down into the aisles, keeping my stumbling act as best I could. I took my time in each one, as though searching for a private place. It wouldn’t have been hard—most of them were empty. But I didn’t really need a place. I was looking for a pony.

I found her near the back, in one of the few corners of the den with any cushions. She was dressed a little like me—except that her coat was stitched with gold and the hood she’d pulled over her head was studded with little gemstones. No, my employer hadn’t told me the name of the pony I was looking for. He hadn’t needed to.

I recognized the face of Fleur de Lis, Canterlot’s sweetheart, from the cover of every tabloid in town. “Golden Bliss Claims Another Victim” and “Two Weeks, Still Missing!” They were the kind of covers that moved magazines.

The mare looked like a wreck. There were empty bottles all around her, and her eyes were tinged slightly green. She’d had a lot of the stuff, maybe too much. I sure hope this works, Quicklime. He’d been going on guesswork for his antidote. I would bring him the smaller bottle, hopefully he could get me something better now.

“You brought more,” she said, reaching weakly with one hoof. I didn’t sit down right away, checking the aisle on both sides. There was a door not far away—a door that’d been barred and sealed pretty securely. But if he notices I’m trying to take away his best client, and his ledger while I’m at it…

“Yeah,” I agreed. She looked like she could barely see me—the Bliss was all over her. Eyes that couldn’t focused, a peaceful smile on her face. They said a few sips were all it took to feel the love of being wanted by the kindest ponies in Equestria. It was better than days out, better than warm mornings, better than sex. “Hey, Fleur. Can you teleport?”

“Sure,” she answered, grinning back at me. “For you, I’ll do anything. Sit down, take that jacket off. Share a glass. I bet those wings would look better out from under your coat.”

I might’ve been flattered, if Fleur hadn’t looked like such a wreck.

I slipped one of the empty bottles off the table, holding it under my jacket a second as I filled it from the vial I hid there. The fluid was blue instead of green as I passed it back, but Fleur didn’t notice. I sat down across from her—hopefully Supply Chain hadn’t seen. He won’t want me bothering his bank account.

Fleur drank without even looking at me. Just a few ounces. Moment of truth time.

I could see the antidote working. The strange color vanished from her eyes, which went violet. It wasn’t magic—she still looked gaunt, like she hadn’t slept in days. You didn’t need to sleep when you took Bliss.

“Celestia above.” She blinked, staring around at the den. “How long have I been here?”

“Nopony knows,” I answered. I could hear shouting from the other end of the room—Chain, sounding furious. Idiot noticed his ledger gone, I see. “But hey, you said you knew how to teleport. I don’t mean to rush you, but…” I pointed through the wall. “I already checked. It’s empty alley out there. Clear shot to the upper city if we gallop. Maybe… maybe I could get a free demonstration?”

Nothing like a little pressure to light the fire under a pony. Before I could blink, we were through the wall, listening to bewildered screams from Supply Chain’s den.

“Who are you?” asked Fleur, adjusting her hood. She could cover her face, but there was little she could do about that horn. Still, I’d been right about how empty it was back here. I could see streetlights from not far away, and I started galloping prompting her to run to follow. Flight would be better, but this was a unicorn.

“After,” I said, once we’d made it out of the twisting alleys. I could still hear Chain’s hired thugs shouting to one another—but they were new to this location. They didn’t know Canterlot half as well as I did. Soon enough we were on our way to one of the trolleys. I didn’t have any bits left—but Fleur did.

“Keep your head down,” I whispered, as we began rolling up the tracks towards the upper tier of Canterlot. “I’m Midnight. Midnight Oil. Let's get you home… before somepony from one of the tabloids notices you riding a train with a strange mare, eh?”

She laughed. “Y-yeah. Right.” I’d seen that look—that was a pony wrung out. I couldn’t really blame her.

“Here,” I said, before I could stop myself. I fished around in a pocket, and drew out the other vial of blue liquid. “Only other one I’ve got. Antidote to whatever poison is in that Bliss stuff. Figure you might need it.”

Fleur levitated it out of sight almost before I could blink. “Didn’t know there was an antidote.”

I shrugged. “I know ponies. Just… it can only get rid of what’s in your system when you drink it. If you go back to that place and have some more, you’ll be back where you were.”

“I know.” Fleur stared down at the railing, and for a second I worried she might be thinking of flinging herself off. The trolley had a twisting path of switchbacks to make it to the upper city—a swift glide for me might be the last tumble a unicorn would ever take.

But it wasn’t. Fleur sat back against the seat and didn’t say another word. Well, except to stick up for me when we reached the gated part of Canterlot where I’d been told to bring her. My employer had said the private security would see her and let me through—and they’d been right.

I couldn’t tell the mansions apart, but Fleur could, and she knew where to go. We entered behind a pair of stone Alicorns and a graceful fountain. “Thanks for getting me out, Midnight,” she said, hesitating at the base of a staircase. “I’m sure… I’m sure my husband will be down shortly.”

I shrugged. “I don’t think I was important enough for him to hire me,” I said, honestly. I already felt uncomfortable in here—the polished granite floor, the beautiful tapestries and servants waiting by the walls. I didn’t belong.

“You might be surprised about that,” said a pony from behind me. I turned, and saw my employer standing there—a tall stallion, his face hidden behind a newspaper. Just as it had been in my office. He folded it down now, and I got a clear look at him for the first time.

Fleur de Lis’s husband, Fancypants. I glanced up towards the stairs to thank Fleur, but she was already gone. I couldn’t really blame her. “I’d like to have a word about this before you leave with your payment, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Sure.” I glanced briefly towards the window. The first light of dawn was cresting the mountain. That meant I had two hours before I would be expected at the Archives. Enough time, if I was quick.

Fancypants removed another pouch of bits, this one much larger than the one I’d left behind. “I don’t know how you did it, but this is yours.” He tossed it to me.

I caught it with a wing, tucking it away in my oversized jacket. “I notice things other ponies don’t,” I said, grinning up at him. “And I understand bureaucracy. Most ponies who do my job don’t care about either of those—they think it’s all brawls on the docks and interrogations under bright lights.”

“Yes, I believe they do.” Fancypants was taking me through his gallery. The hallway had increasingly-impressive objects on display there. Intricate gold jewelry, paintings, sculpture. Each item here probably cost more than I would earn if my lifetime. Some ponies had all the luck.

Yet a second later he put out a hoof, stopping us. There was a display-case here, with glass thicker than my hoof and lined with metal supports. “How would you feel about another job, Midnight Oil? You found my wife. She was what mattered. But now that she’s back… there are some other things that matter too. Sensitive things—too sensitive for ponies to know. I can trust you to be discrete, can’t I?”

“Yeah.” I tipped my hat in the pony’s direction. “Something lost? I think I can manage that.”