“So, was your daddy a baker?”
“Excuse me?”
“Cause you got a pair of sweet buns!”
It was mare's night at the Salt Shaker. Mares were getting their ciders, hard alcohols, or flavor concoction at a seventy five percent cut. The discount brought an influx of patrons not normally seen at the sleepy bar. Even with the cut, revenue increased thanks to the owner's trend of watering down the hard liquor. Good moods were all around except for the unfortunate mares dealing with a troublesome pony.
For an earth pony she wasn't very muscular. Rather thin compared to most of her tribe. A dark tan jumpsuit made from a thick khaki material clad her lankly form. Front and hind pant legs were cut short just above the knees. Over this she had a zipped up travel vest. Her brick red coat stood out in contrast to the khaki clothes. A dusty odor wafted off her with every movement. A clear sign of the abundance of travel she did. A crop of messy blonde mane spiked out off her head. She had a 'just woken up' mane style that begged for a comb to assault it. Lime orbs were bright and alive with a hidden allure and curiosity often found in a young ponies temperament. Fore hooves were wrapped in a special fabric. It was an odd blend found across the eastern seas that resembled leather but without the necessary death to extract. Each shoe was a sandy color with two belts connected to the center opening and wrapping around the upper hoof connecting together several inches above the ankle. Hind hooves were bare showing the odd blue hoof where the red fur ended.
The brick red mare stood on her hind legs and pressed herself against the smooth, dark oak bar with a fore leg bent pressing a hoof against her head. She was grinning after her exceptional pick up line. An over abundance of ill placed confidence lead her to see triumph where only failure was bound to happen. Facing to her right, she awaited for an answer from the pony chosen for her advances.
An unamused unicorn mare sat on a stool to the brick red mare's right nursing a mug of cider. Awkward glances were cast over . Tired of expecting that silence would push the love lorn pony away, magic raised her glass dumping its contents on the brick red mare. Finally accepting the answer, the brick red mare moved on to the pony on her left.
“Nice hind legs. When do they open?” The newly approached mare's lips curled in disgust. Her hoof reeling back only to spring forward slamming across the side of the red pony's cheek. She was sent spinning back stumbling away from the bar and the offended mare.
Staggering from the blow that took her away from the two disgruntled ponies, the red mare found safety from stumbling legs at a table she collided with. Her waist embraced against the edge bending her upper body forward against the cold, smooth surface. She brought her head up giving a dazzled stare on two confused mares who had before been enjoying their select beverages without interruption. Sadly, the arrival of the brightly smiling red mare would put an end to their merry time.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Near the back of the Salt Shaker, three pony farmers sat watching the red mare make a fool of herself. Each held a mug of cider, and each took turns sliding a darkened book back and forth between them. Glances went down to the book's cover then came up to the red mare. “That 'er?”
“Eyup.”
“Figure we outta take care of the problem soon?”
“Yeah huh.”
“Teach 'er we don't take kindly to 'er type 'round 'ere.”
Solemnly, they nodded their heads in agreement. Their mugs were emptied simultaneously and each pushed back from their chairs. They fell in line, one behind the other, moving at a slow pace towards the closely watched red mare.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Don't worry ladies, love at first sight is common with me. There wont be any need to fight, there's enough pony for both of you.” The red mare rested her knees against the table cradling her chin with upturned hooves.
For a moment the two mares seemed to be in quiet contemplation of what the pony said. One giggled while the other whispered and grinned coyly in their caller's direction.
Sensing an opportunity, she leaned in closer to the two mares. She dared not let anypony else hear what she said next. Whispered words spoken brought a wide eyed response. Believing she had won over them both, she leaned back lewdly smirking. Hooves pressed down onto the table raising her body back a bit to carefully take in the sight of the two. Whatever she had said, it left the two ponies stunned.
A swift deliverance of justice was made. The two mares did not hesitate to jointly plant their hooves square into the red mare's jaw. Neither had been in a mood to tolerate such an obnoxious annoyance. Whatever had been said to them brought great ire. As the saying is said, Hell hath no fury as a mare scorned.
It was a thing of beauty how the red mare's hooves lifted from the bar floor Her body seemed to be captured in a slow motion reel. Lean body raised upwards traveling several feet before the inevitable crash to the floor. Sawdust from the floor and dust from her coat uplifted around her in a feeble cloud. Swirling eyes stared up at the new sight of the ceiling as her brain rebooted various functions to recover from the sudden disruption of her senses. Just before everything in her mind failed and began to carefully coerce her into the dim world of unconsciousness, the silhouettes of three stallions came to hover over her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Nev' seen a pony go out like that before.”
“Glass jaw and all.”
“Eeyup.”
Lids groggily raised from lime eyes staring out. Three voices tickled the red mare's ears stirring her from the dark slumber. The world appeared strange to her. Looking up, she saw the earth several feet above her head. A cause for worry, she looked down to find the night sky. The moon was at rest crested in the sky below her. It was odd to have the sky below and the earth above. She struggled to move her limbs and averted her gaze to her body. Rope had been tied around her leading up to a tree limb from which she dangled from. The rope covered most of her body like a wicker basket with only her head, neck, and the hooves of her hind legs visible. It all made sense now.
“Whoa there! 'Ey boys! She's 'wake!”
Her instincts took over flooding her body with adrenaline. Thoughts fired off through her brain a mile a minute. She took in her surroundings quickly accessing the danger she was in. It was an open, expansive area. Perhaps a park or somepony's front yard. A fire pit not far away with a community grill placed next to it. She was dangling from a large oak tree. The thick branches and limbs indicted it had been there for centuries. Bushes and grass were trimmed and well taken care of. Picnic tables were scattered beneath smaller trees kept where the shade would protect ponies from the harsh rays of the sun. It was like a painting showing off the simplicity and wonder of small town Equestria.
Settled with where she was, the red mare twisted her self about aiming to twirl her body to face the ponies she assumed had tied her up. Behind her, three stallions stood glancing between her and the cover of a book one held. There was nothing remarkable about them. Typical farm ponies built for hard work and long hours. “Are you Spry?” The one holding the book inquired before spitting at the ground.
At the mention of her name, the red earth pony, Spry, raised her eye brows at the perplexity of them knowing her name. “Yeah, that's me? What's it to you?”
“We don't take kindly to yer type!” One of the others quipped.
Aghast at the statement, Spry began to swing her body snapping her teeth towards the three. They stepped back seeing her get closer with each swing. “What do you mean my type, huh? A fillyfooler? You got a problem with fillyfoolers?” Hind hooves wiggled and squirmed while she swung her body. “Probably go around and beat up coltcuddlers too, huh?”
It was the three stallions turned to look at Spry with expressions of bewilderment. Glances were cast between each of them trying to figure out what course to take next.
“I knew it! Typical! See something different and you decide to just beat up the fillyfooler, huh? Untie me and I'll show you exactly what I can do to you! Just you three wait. I'll beat you senseless and leave you begging for your mommies to save your worthless flanks!”
With a huff from his nostrils, one of them decided to speak up. “How dare you! Them are derogatory words. We don't take kindly to that sorta thing. We'd never hurt somepony for loving somepony and reckon you better watch your lip! No! We don't take kindly to yer type! Plagiarists!”
“Huh?” Crazed squirms and movements came to a halt leaving the earth pony just to sway and dangle.
“You heard em! You plagiarist!” The stallion swung his head back and forward tossing the exchanged book down.
After a cloud of dust settled from its landing, Spry stared down expectantly at the cover for some clue as to what the accusations were from. It was a simple book wrapped in a fold over cover. Crayon was used to draw a pony that resembled her; blonde mane, red coat, jump suit, and two metal thigh bracelets on her hind legs. Written in a foal's cursive were the words 'Spry: An Autobiography' in red crayon. A stallion's hoof came down onto the top of the cover with Spry's following it up to the owner's cranky expressions.
“My daughter bought this here book from some little insect filly thing. Claimed it was about this adventurer type in town. Whole thing is just a Daring Do book with a new cover on it!” One stallion barked.
“I've read every Daring Do book to my little filly and I know one when I see it. How dare yew rip off a classic litter-i-chore book claiming its your otto-bi-og-iffy!”
“Now we'll just let you hang there for a while till you decide to confess!”
“Insect filly... Wait.. MINEA!” A break in Spry's mind set her right back into squirming and fighting against the rope. “MINEA! Went I get free from here I'm buying a fly swatter! I'm going to kill you, you bits worshiping hornet!” This set the three stallions to stumble back. If Spry had been acting wild before, this had escalated at the declaration of committing murder. “You little monster!”
One by one the stallions took heed to distance themselves from the rampaging mare. Their backs turned to her, and heads coming together in whispered deliberation. Something behind them silenced their exchange.
Snap. Crack. Pop.
Each froze in place stricken by nausea from the repulsive sounds. They shuddered to think what now was behind them where Spry was hanging, but none wanted to take the moment to look.
Crack. Pop. Pop. Snap. Thump.
Then there was silence. If the sounds had left their blood chilled and their mouths dry, the final sound of dead weight falling to the ground caused them to leap skyward. An exchange of glances between them acted as words would for them to turn at once. Salvaging what courage hadn't become lead in their hooves, they turned about to see what had become of Spry.
The rope dangled down, now unraveled, pooling on the ground in a lopsided swirl. Spry's broken body laid crumbled. Bones jutted out against skin and cloth alike. It was akin to a murder scene with some hapless passerby finding the mangle remains of the victim. Cautious steps gathered them around the body seeking some sign of life from the crumpled, irregular lump. A movement caught their focus to peer down. With a collective gasp, it turned from a crime scene into a super natural nightmare.
One by one each dislocated limb snapped its self back into place. Shambling extensions shifted pushing hooves against the ground raising her body up with a final, ominous 'crack' that seemed to echo through the empty park. Each leg raised kicking outwards testing the stability of her reconnected parts. “I have to hoof it to you. It's been a while since I had to dislocate that much just to untie myself.” Brushing any obvious clumps of dirt and mud free, Spry sat back on her haunches to observe what came next.
“Are ye a witch?” One shouted while an accusing hoof pointed at the earth pony.
“She's gonna curse us!” Another squeeked.
“Don't be so stupid.” The one who had had said he read to his daughter gave a humorous smack to the backs of each of his friends' heads. “Iffin she was a witch do ya think she would just do somethin that stupid? She's just some fool plagiarist who don't know sense!”
“Oh. Right, cause dropping down 'ike that probably didn't feel good neither. Eeeyup. Probably stupid, 'ight?”
The string of insults did little to curb the growing dislike of the three ponies who had rallied to bind her. She casually scratched the side of her head pondering what move to make next. It would not be a move she would have to make. Instead, something approaching from behind her captors took her attention. Thin lips curled into a devious smile while narrowed lids fell on the stallions.
“Excuse me, gentleponies, but I must ask that you move away from my schwester. I am a dragon of my gods and as thus I do not wish violence upon others.” Words came rumbling on the wings of hypnotizing bass. Spry's three assailants took their turn coming about face to see what it was that spoke.
The ponies were lucky to come up to the creature's mid torso. A bipedal dragon standing near six and a half feet in height. A long, black cassock covered much of his body. Inch wide white fabric lined the collar and bottom. Black talons were scarcely seen on scaled feet beneath the swaying movements of the cassocks base. Lengthy tail swept the ground brushing up dirt and leaves with each pass. Arms were set at the dragon's waist with one hand pushed into opposing sleeve. A wide, round brim hat of black set on his head. It extended outwards nearly as long as his jaw. A dozen tendrils of scales and flesh hung down from his head. Long muzzle held lips mostly closed hiding carnivorous fangs and sharp incisors. Scales were a common fern green with the tips dipped in goldenrod. Cat style eyes set cyan iris to focus on the ponies. “Please. I assure you that my schwester had nothing to do with your grievances.”
With a smug strut, Spry walked around the three ponies. They were stone stiff and terrified of the creature. She let her blonde tail flick out to purposely strike their noses in one quick swish. “Thanks for showing up, Dee-Dee.” Spry moved to his side with a skip fallowing after each step. She pressed a hoof against his waist grinning up at the tall stranger. “Got worried there for a minute.”
A sigh from aggravation snorted from flared nostrils. “Dearest Schwester, please. I utterly despise that whelpish nickname. Please refer to me as bruder, vormund, or at least call me by my name.” His tone took a demanding assertion bringing his gaze to Spry but never turning from the three ponies.
“Okay, Deacon, okay. No 'Dee-Dee' around new ponies.” A light shrug of her shoulders. She'd do it again later just to get under his scales. “Now! For you three. Let me tell you what's going to hap--” Spry's words ceased under a sudden glare from a dragon besides her.
“Forgive her. Though she is consider an adult among your kind, she is still a whelp in many ways.” Deacon bowed his head respectfully to the three ponies, but received a scowl from Spry.
Several seconds passed for Spry and Deacon, yet felt like minutes to the three ponies. Deacon's words took time for them to translate and discern the lack of aggression. One made a motion forward approaching the large dragon with a casting stare on his face. “Well see here. This pony is obviously a plagiarist for this here book. No pony has no right to go stealing no other pony's hard work!”
Deacon bowed deeper at his waist. “I understand your words. But she is not to blame. I understand you purchased the book from a little creature, barely as tall as a quill, yes? Tomorrow, if you come to the stall you purchased the book at, everypony who was swindled will have their bits returned... and if not, the seller will part with a belonging of equal or more value. Please, I assure you that my schwester is just a victim as you and others are. By noon tomorrow, all will be made right.”
It was a lack of dishonesty in his voice that swayed the ponies. Grudgingly, they would relinquish their pursuit until the following day. One by one they began to leave falling into a single file line past the two. Spry followed them, turning her head to watch their departure making sure they stayed true to their silent acceptance of the proposal.
Spry sighed relieved of the tension that was building up. She groaned hanging her head forward. “I'm going to need to soak long in a hot tub after getting out of that rope. They tied me up worse than most ponies do. Either they didn't want me to fall or they really didn't want me to escape.” Drifting back to her haunches, she ran her hooves up and down her sides then her shoulders.
Hands slid free from the confines of his black sleeves. Lengthy fingers tipped with onyx claws slid down across the sides of the pony. Deacon had repositioned himself behind Spry and crouched down allowing his arms to come around her. Gently as if he lifted a foal, he pulled the pony into a cradle. “Now, Schwester, after what you did it isn't good to force your self if you must. Let us return to our tent and rest the last of the eve.”
“Yeah yeah.” Spry didn't bother fighting against him. It was a feeble cause to try and stop him. “Where were ya when they took me anyway?”
“At the time, I was aiding an older mare bring her groceries from her cart to her front door. More importantly, why were you in the bar when I left you at the grocery store?”
Spry shrank back against Deacon burying her face against his chest. “I got thirsty and noticed some cuties wandering in... Dunno why any of my lines took.”
“Yes, that would have been wonderful. 'Hey, let us return to my over sized tent and fornicate besides my oversized slumbering bruder. In the morning, we shall partake in traveler's bread while I try to explain why I never removed the upper half of my jumpsuit.' Yes, it would have been splendid.” Deacon was blatant in his disregard for her ego. He was careful of the parcel he carried when he finally began to move from the spot with the dangling rope. “At least you will not have to worry of Minea.”
“That's right!” With a spring to her body, quickly shunted by the soreness in her joints, she recalled the many things she wanted to do to their mutual insect friend. “Why not? I got a fly swatter I plan to buy just for her!”
“She is currently staying in a hotel. No doubt using the illicit proceeds to procure her stay. Where she got the books, money to get the fake covers, and how she thought we would not notice are things I wish to ask her. That will have to wait until tomorrow. And no fly swatter.”
Crossing her legs across her chest, with a defiant 'harumph'. Thoughts of her revenge still danced in her mind like sugary treats in a child's dreams. Thin lips curled into a satisfied smile at one thought of using her tiny friend as bait at the end of a fishing line. Ponies didn't eat fish but it was still an appeasing thought. These things would have to wait until the next day though. For now it was nearing the time for them to sleep until Celestia's sunrise. The confrontation would have to wait until tomorrow.
Equestria's farming communities were mostly the same. Family owned farms surrounded sparse buildings that formed the towns. The sporadic nature of the town's structure would gain some resemblance to order the closer to main street and the farmer's market. Some towns were gifted to have large hospitals, Barnyard Bargains, and even multi-room school houses, but these were rarities. These sleepy hollows were never the cause for news in the big cities save for the town of Ponyville which appeared weekly in national newspapers.
Neighberry was one such farming town. It was one town away from Fillydelphia and boasted the highest peach crop in Equestria. Peach wine, peach cobbler, peach salad, and peach moisturizer were just a few of the products constantly being shipped out to other places and sold locally. Unlike the infamous Ponyville, nothing out of the ordinary ever occurred in this peaceful little hamlet.
Neighberry's farmers market was established just beside city hall. Rows of stalls and carts, with a few set up in the middle of the road, were filled with produce and wares to be sold each day. At the center was a permanent booth established by City Hall to assign spaces and collect sales taxes at the end of the day. Ponies who came to the market this morning were there not just to buy their daily bread, but to see a most curious creature.
Minea was situated in one of the premier spots of the farmer's market. Stacks of books, their covers hand drawn in crayon, surrounded her acting as her booth and merchandise. A sign in front gave the price at ten bits a book. She was an unusual being. Minea could have easily been two and a half feet in height. Her body composed of no fur, just bare, lightly tanned skin. Minea's 'mane', a name she didn't use herself, was composed of streaks of reds and blues and kept in a high angled ponytail. Upon her back large, smooth crystalline wings laid motionless. Slender arms curled just beneath two small mounds concealed beneath a crimson red and silver bodice. Long legs were crossed; the left on top of the right and left to dangle along its sister. Blue jean capris hugged her feminine curves tighter than Minea liked, but it had to do for now. Beneath her was a solid black lock box acting as her throne. Spry and Deacon better have gotten the laundry done. This top and these jeans go horrid together. Her thoughts portrayed on her face through a curled bottom lip blowing a strand of hair from her face.
This morning had been calm so far. Not a single pony had approached her. Those she saw seemed content to keep their distance exchanging whispers and awkward glances. Minea didn't care for this suspicious display. It made her easily anxious that her plan had been discovered sooner than she would like. Geez. Yesterday everypony here came running to see the 'cute little insect'. All I had to do was bat my eyes and tell some sob story about Spry and I being orphans and they bought these books without question. A sly smile upturned her lips.
Yesterday was a beneficial and fulfilling day. A few ponies marveled at the talking creature and she got a spot to sell her books with ease. From there, all it took was misting her indigo eyes, repeating a false tale of Spry's heroism recorded in the books, and the ponies flocked to spill their bits for her. At her request they were not to read the books for a few days until she left. Minea led them to believe it would cause her too much heart break to verbally recall the events of her past.
She moved her hands in front of her ringing her palms together. It was too easy to manipulate the trusting. Sometimes it wasn't even fun. Tapping the lock box beneath her with her heel, she remembered that this wasn't one of those moments. It was a moment that it was rewarding.
Swinging her arms besides her, hands going flat against the smooth metal, she leaned back to survey her surroundings. The noise, rather lack of, was unsettling. Yesterday the farmer's market was bustling with activity. Every stall was rented by vendors and ponies flocked in to buy what they wanted. It looked like nopony had decided to come out leaving many of the small wooden structures barren of activity. A lack of pony presence unnerved Minea. It wasn't until she heard the trampling of angry hooves and the tell tale signs of rambling voices and wisps of smoke from torches that the silence was broken. She knew in that moment that her luck in this town had run out.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Not far from the growing riot in the market Spry and Deacon were in the process of walking to that very place. Spry had wanted to get to Minea as soon as the sun was up, but Deacon's insistence that she rest and eat a good breakfast left her with little choice. Tent and sleeping bags were rolled up then placed at their destined home on the large hiking pack Deacon wore when they were in transit. The pack held all their worldly belongings; clothes, pots and pans, trinkets, bits, dried foods, and other day to night accessories. Once Deacon gave Spry an inspection and was satisfied she was not suffering any lifelong injuries, they had departed.
Every step forward was a reminder of what Spry did. Her joints and muscles felt sore, possibly swollen in some places, after her daring escape. She lowered her head down close to her chest, sucking in a deep breath only to recoil in disgust. Spry decided not to bother changing clothes nor bathing. She had wanted to reach Minea as soon as she could. With her luck, Minea would be able to smell her before they even had sight of her. “Ya know, Deacon, she's gone too far this time. Usually she just winds up getting us ran out of a town, but this is too far.”
Calm with a low smile lining his leathery muzzle, Deacon kept his face forward but crept his visions towards Spry. “Schwester, did you so quickly forget the time with the spiderlings beneath the Kobold Nation? She attempted to procure jewels from their queen in exchange for my servicing her in her bed chambers.” Deacon wore the same garments as he did everyday. His black cassock, pressed and wrinkle free, covered most of his body. Rounded rim, black hat sat low on the ridge of his forehead blocking the brightness of Celestia's sun from his eyes. Each hand was pushed into opposing sleeve and hovered in front of his waist. Settled on his back was his hiking pack. Its length nearly passed his head and went down to just above his knees. The straps were comfortable enough. Well tailored to survive the weight they had to carry.
“Like you couldn't have used it.” Deacon wearily turned his head to Spry when she spoke. “Listen to your sister. You're stiff enough as it is and need to let loose. Some time with the spider queen may just have done that.” Confidence was not in short coming for Spry and her nodding with her statement showed just that. She thrust a red hoof over thumping Deacon's thigh. “At least you didn't dislocate most of your body in order to avoid being tied up. Now that stuff hurts.”
Choosing one's battles was a key strategy to survive life. Deacon knew from many arguments and misadventures that while he could be the voice of reason to Spry, it often went unheard. There was much on his mind to say, but he left it with just a grunt.
Before Spry could continue on the path of Deacon's lack of infidelities, the farmer's market came into view. An uproar of shouts and chants echoed from a large circle of ponies. The mob surrounded a single spot waving torches and flyswatters in the air. In the center of it all, a glowing blue and red sphere was bouncing around like a pinball. When it went up a pegasus was there to block its escape. When it tried to go down a unicorn or earth pony was prepared to keep it in the circle. It was not hard for Spry and Deacon to decipher what they were seeing. They had seen it many times in the past.
“Spry.” Spry seemed to ignore Deacon. His tone of voice hinted that they should hurry to their friend's aid. “Spry.” He said again seeing the red earth pony remain fixed in her spot.
Spry seemed pleased at the sight of the glowing sphere bouncing around. It was justice for the many times she had to endure some hardship or defend her innocence due to some backwards scheme.
“Spry.”
“Yeah yeah, let's go.” Finally giving in, Spry leaped forward. Acrobats would be jealous of what Spry did. From one pony's back to another she jumped with ease seeing to land for a brief moment then moving onto the next. Her body flipped forward and twisted so she could land facing where she was to jump next. Bounding off the head of a tall stallion, Spry ended her leap frogging right in the middle of the crowd. With her hooves settled she felt the anguish of her muscles and joints. Doing such feats so soon after her escape left her unmistakably sore. Twisting about, she raised her hooves up to the crowd. Waving back and forth, she yelled out, “Calm down everypony! Calm down!”
For a being of his size, Deacon did not have to go to such measures to reach his goal. “Pardon me.” He would say each time he set his hands to a pony's waist lifting them up and to the side. Voices rose up in protest but little could be done to fight the strength of the imposing figure. When it was realized there was a dragon in their presence, ponies began to move out of the way instead of being picked up like a foal. He joined Spry at the center of the ponies and raised his hands, palms out, to try and ease their aggressions. In time, and out of fear for Deacon, the ponies became calm.
From the sky the glowing sphere came down to settle on the black lock box throne. Magic dissipated revealing the frazzled and relieved Minea. Her wings lowered along her back, “You're here! My saviors!” She exclaimed throwing her arms out to them both. All she got in return were two nasty glares. “Um... Ehehe...”
“That fly ripped us off!” One pony yelled.
“These books are just Daring Do novels!” Another chimed in.
“Plagiarist!”
“Swindler!”
In a matter of seconds the mob returned to its former unruly persona. A dire situation had developed and Spry, Deacon, and Minea were at the center. “Look, we'll make this right, trust us.” Spry pleaded.
“Why should we trust you!”
“What proof do you have!”
Spry looked out at the crowd seeking some sign or friendly face when she saw them; the three stallions who tied her up. Pointing her hoof in their direction, she yelled out as loud as she could, “Hey! We promised we'd be here to fix things and here we are! Just ask those three! We told them last night!”
Sure enough, Spry's assailants stepped forward. Three proud stallions kept their heads raised and moved in front of the crowd. The talkative one spoke up, “That's right. We blamed the filly for this little act and they said they'd make it right and that's why we're here. Now,” fixing his attentions to Spry, “How do you plan to do that?”
What did she plan to do? Spry didn't have the first thought on how to fix things. A look at Deacon found him more focused on the crowd then her. If it wasn't for him they may have been trampled already. Minea wouldn't be much help. Spry spied her now behind her lock box ready to hide behind metal and book if things went south. The ticking of an imaginary clock counted down seconds in Spry's mind until it came to her. The lock box was their salvation.
If she lowered her head it may have been seen as a sign of surrender. Spry needed to be steady and clear if she was to reach these ponies. “Listen! We'll give everypony here a refund!” It wouldn't be enough. Surveying found they calmed some knowing they would get their bits back. “Plus, everypony who bought a book will get an additional two bits. It isn't much but it's something.”
Seeing most of the ponies appeased by the proposal, Spry turned around to the stacks and books and, most importantly, the lock box. “Minea, open it up.”
“Wait just a minute, Spry, I never said I would give refunds for any of this. It's their fault for believing a stranger! Buyer beware and all that!” The fairy leaned forward pushing her palms down against the cold metal. “I shouldn't have to give up my hard earned mon---” Her words were cut off with Spry's hoof pointing at her face.
“Save it. Open the box, you couldn't have spent that much in one night and with the bits we have, we can make everypone happy and us not, well dead. Now open it.” Minea stuck out her bottom lip in defiance. Immune to her pouting, Spry simply looked away to Deacon. “Deacon, pull out the bits we have... plus what I got from dad for my birthday.” Again, she spun around to address the crowd. “Everypony, please form a single line, we'll get the bits sorted out and begin handing them back.”
While some straggled behind the rest, a rainbow of ponies lined up to get what their refunds. Deacon felt calm wash over him seeing the danger pass by. Joining the other two, he relaxed his shoulders letting the heavy pack drop down. Leather weighed down by a multitude of items gave a mighty thud that had some looking on in wonder. He crouched down bringing his clawed fingers to dig through the various pockets to find two jingling bags of coins. “Minea, how many books did you sell?”
Minea fluttered her wings out carrying her up and down in front of her prized box. Fingers ran along the area around the lock releasing bolts of magic out dancing against the tumblers inside. “Maybe thirty or forty. So we'll need what, four hundred eighty bits?” Hearing the satisfying click of the lock releasing, magic lifted the lid back.
“Is this it?!” Spry's voice reached shrill levels. What she expected to be two to three hundred bits had been reduced to eighty overnight.
“Well,” Minea quickly trailed off rolling her head to look away from Spry. “First I got the best hotel room in town. And there were some things I always wanted to try.” Right hand shot up, fingers curled down against her palm. Her index finger extended first, “So I ordered enough chocolate pudding to bathe in. Then ordered enough peach wine to bathe in after taking a bath. There was the massage from their unicorn masseuse.” Each time Minea listed an item, a index extended out. She seemed in deep thought recollecting each transaction she made. “So yeah. That's it. Gotta say, food can get expensive when you don't eat flowers or hay.”
Flies could have made a nest in Spry's mouth with how long it hung open. There were not enough words in her vocabulary to explain the rage that was bubbling over in her brain. Critical thinking saved her from overloading. Screaming and shouting now would only intensify what she was trying to deescalate. Endorphins released setting her at ease. Feeling that pressure release give her a moment of cooling, Spry resigned herself to fix the situation. “How many bits do we have, Deacon?”
“Between your gift and our own funds... One hundred fifty.” Solemn were his words. Deacon reached his arm out dropping both bags down into the box with the eighty inside.
Spry set a hoof against her forehead. Exhaling out, finding it the only way to steady her nerves, she reached a hoof over to Deacon. “Give me the mirror dad gave me. There's a pawn shop around the corner I can sell it for the other two fifty we need.”
Averse to the plan Spry had, Deacon shook his head. “Your vater would not be pleased if you sold such a gift. There maybe another way to secure funds.”
“Yeah! Just write a letter to your old man and we wont even have to get rid of our bits.” Minea chirped waving her hand dismissively.
A stare that could freeze the ocean zeroed in on the fairy. A scowl painted on Spry's face as her voice spoke in a low, haunting tone. “I will not write him. Even if he's an important pony and has money, I'm not going to write him again to get me out of another mess. I can explain the mirror away as long as I keep the brush that came with it.”
The line of ponies was becoming restless. If they didn't sell the mirror then the bits would have to come from someplace else. The fore mentioned brush wouldn't bring in enough to turn the tides, and finding work would delay them from their next destination. Without any other options to turn to, Deacon reached into the pack to dig out the mirror. It was buried deep wrapped around by clothes so it took an effort to yank it out without having to empty all the contents.
A gift from Spry's father, the mirror had been specially crafted for her birthday. A gilded hand mirror crafted from white gold. Spry's father chose a flower motif to decorate it. Wrapped vines constructed the handle and the frame of the mirror and four roses were set above, below, and to the left and right of the reflective center. On the smooth surface on the back was an inscription, 'To my precious daughter. Never forget that you are the star in your father's night sky'. The mirror was enchanted. With a touch of unicorn magic, it could seal an image. Touching the handle brought he image to appear then fade seconds later. This mirror held a picture of Spry as a baby being held by her father. A touching memory from long past.
“Hand out what bits you can, I'll go sell the mirror then be back.” At that, Deacon lowered the mirror down to Spry's face level. She parted her lips carefully taking the prized item against the safety of her muzzle. Spry hung her head forward. She didn't want to sell it but any other idea wouldn't work. Without acknowledging either of her companions, she departed from the group.
“Deacon? I messed up this time, huh?” Minea's voice trembled. She positioned herself beside the lock box, standing on one of the smaller towers of books.
“Minea,” Deacon shrugged his shoulders forward and guided his hands to grip the sides of the metal box. Easing his palms to the side he raised it up against his stomach protectively. “Do you remember last year when you had Spry pose suggestively? You told her you were practicing a spell that would place a still frame image on paper.”
“Yeah I remember...”
“You then sold those pictures to a mare who became obsessed with Spry. The mare then kidnapped Spry and kept her in her room where she held a false wedding with her stuffed toys as guests, correct?”
Minea couldn't look at Deacon. Heat blasted her cheeks turning them crimson. She recalled it easily. The good amount of bits she earned from the drooling mare, the frantic search for Spry, and the final confrontation that found her tied to a chair wearing a tattered wedding gown. They were lucky that nothing unsavory had happened to her prior to Minea and Deacon's arrival. “Yeah I remember...”
“This is worse than that.” Deacon finished coming about to begin handing out what bits they could to the ponies in line.
Minea faltered at Deacon's final words. She stumbled back as if shot down by a blast of magic. Arms flailing catching herself on the books around her. Minea looked again in the direction Spry trotted off. Her heart fell down to her shoes; the weight of it far heavier than she could handle.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Spry did not dilly dally in her return, galloping back with her teeth clenched around the binding of a sack filled with bits. She had been able to sell the mirror for just enough to handle their problem but not a single coin more. On her return, she would find things remained peaceful. Deacon stood at the front of the line of remaining ponies while Minea stood on his shoulders watching for Spry's return.
A bouncer's stance was taken by Deacon. His arms folded across his chest to give himself an imposing stature. When a pony tried to move ahead of the line, his grunt sent them back. “Schwester,” Deacon spoke when he heard the approach of hooves drumming the ground, “Did you gain what we need?” He lowered his left arm down upturning his palm to accept the bounty.
“Yeah. The owner heard of us already and tried to only give me fifty bits. I turned to leave and he raised it to what we needed, but wouldn't budge further.” The sack of bits dropped from her mouth into Deacon's palm. “I'm going to go get some water...” She managed to mumble. Spry became apathetic to the final process. Now she went to wallow alone with a quick drink.
Fluttering her wings out, Minea went to follow after Spry. She stayed mute when she landed on her back. Minea outstretched her arms pulling her body against her friend's neck. She hoped that while she knew not how to say it, her action would convey her apology enough. Spry only glanced back partially smirking at the display.
One by one each pony was paid their refund plus two bits. The sack became lighter until not a single bit remained to jingle. Spry and Minea stood off to the side giving room to Deacon and the ponies leaving. As the crowd dispersed, only one pony remained standing expectantly in front of the three. Deacon looked down confused. They had no more money to repay this final pony, but he was certain that those who were suckered had been repaid in full.
Spry took notice of this last pony. A unicorn mare kindly smiling at them. Dark olive coat groomed and brushed without a single hair out of place. Her bleach blond mane curled down sweeping equally on either side of her neck. Tail curling around her right hind leg then unraveling just to coil around the other. On both sides of her flank a silver star, balls at each tip, proudly displayed her position in town. “I heard there was some commotion in the market today. I decided to come take a look to see if I could assist.”
Feeling uneasy, Spry went to stand beside Deacon. Eye brows arched as she examined the mare. “Can we help you...? We paid back all the ponies... If we missed you I'm sure we have something we can give you instead of bits.”
A cool smile curled on the dark olive green pony's lips. “Oh not at all. I can smell a scam when I see one. Name's Flathoof. I'm the law in this town and I'd like for you three to come with me.”
