The Daring Adventure of Dentist and Bookworm

by RB_

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure, Daring Do, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Colgate, Diamond Dogs, Moondancer
Length: 12897

Daring Do needs an expert in ancient seapony languages. Minuette needs a vacation. Moondancer just needs to get out of the house more.

Daring Do needs an expert in ancient seapony languages. Minuette needs a vacation. Moondancer just needs to get out of the house more.

An entry into An honourable mention in Shrink Laureate's Season 9 Bingo contest. Check out the other entries here!
Card.
Cover art by Mutterbutter of the Fimfiction Discord.

Review by PaulAsaran!

Published 2019-04-05 22:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-04-12 01:16:59 UTC

Well-Laid Plans...

Every group of friends has its rituals. Moondancer’s friends had the doughnut shop.

They were a busy bunch, Moondancer’s friends. Minuette had her dentistry practice; Lemon Hearts had her palace job. Moondancer herself, of course, had her studies. And Twinkleshine... well, Moondancer could never quite remember what it was Twinkleshine did, but she supposed it had to be important, too.

Which is why, every Tuesday at noon, come rain, snow, sleet, or invasion by a foreign power, the four unicorns would meet at Pony Joe’s for lunch. It was the only time that fit into all of their schedules, and by Celestia, they were going to make the most of it. That was their ritual, and it was one Moondancer had sworn to uphold... even if she was perennially the late one.

The fact that she had arrived early for once, then, was a clear sign that something was wrong.

The bell above the door ting-a-linged as she shuffled through it. The smell of fresh-fried dough drifted past her and out onto the street. A few of the ponies sitting at the tables in the front of the shop glanced up at her arrival, but their attention quickly wandered elsewhere—save, of course, for that of the blue-coated unicorn sitting at the table in the back corner.

Minuette grinned and waved her over. Minuette grinned a lot. It was one of her defining features. It was also highly infectious, and so in spite of everything that had happened that morning, Moondancer cracked a small smile of her own as she went to join her.

“Hey, Moondancer!” Minuette called out. “How’s it hanging?”

Minuette, by contrast to Moondancer, was always the first to arrive—and the one to order, as evidenced by the variety box sitting on the table in front of her. As it turned out, the hourglasses on her flanks weren’t just for show.

“Fine,” Moondancer said, taking her seat. “Everything’s great.”

Minuette eyed her suspiciously.

Moondancer stared back for a few seconds.

“So, uh... what’s up with you?”

“Oh, everything’s peachy-keen as always,” Minuette said. “I’m looking forward to taking the day off tomorrow.”

“That sounds nice.”

“Okay, seriously, filly,” Minuette said, sitting up in her chair. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing’s going on,” Moondancer said. “Why do you think something’s going on?”

“Moon, you’re never here this early.”

“So?”

“So that means you weren’t caught up studying like you normally are, which means you couldn’t focus, which means you were worrying about something.” Minuette leaned back in her chair and took a bite out of her doughnut. “So spill it.”

Moondancer sighed.

“Alright, fine,” she said. “So...”

“I need your help,” Daring Do said.

Moondancer and Daring Do typically had a very simple relationship. Moondancer had first met the adventurer as A.K. Yearling, when by coincidence they had both been researching the lost city of the ancient Bushwoolie tribes at the Royal Canterlot Library.

This had lead to a very unfortunate misunderstanding in which Daring had assumed that Moondancer had been sent by one of her various lifelong nemeses to spy on her. This in turn had led to a quick scuffle, a brief chase with the pony who had actually been spying on Daring, and a very entertaining apology lunch. The two had been colleagues ever since.

Daring, herself being a career archaeologist (albeit in somewhat untraditional fashion), could appreciate a pure academic, and there were fewer academics more pure than Moondancer. And so, whenever Daring needed quick research outside of her normal jurisdiction, she knew exactly the pony to turn to.

This particular request, however...

“I can’t go to Mt. Aris with you!” Moondancer cried, throwing up her hooves. “Are you crazy!?”

“Just as a consultant!” Daring said. “You don’t have to do any adventuring! I just need someone who can read the language of the ancient Hippocampians so I don’t get lost in the Labyrinth of Li’xsh.”

“Daring, you speak, like, twelve languages already!” Moondancer said. “I can give you pointers.”

“I don’t have the time to learn it,” Daring said. “Cabelleron’s already hot on the trail of the Crown of the Cthonia. And you’re the only pony I know who’s fluent in Xiu’biehian!”

She tapped her chin with a hoof. “Actually, come to think of it, I think you’re the only pony who’s fluent in Xiu’biehian. I guess that’s why they call it a dead language.”

“I can give you reference books!” Moondancer’s horn lit; a pile of reference guides about the size of her head arranged itself on the table in front of her. She pushed it over to Daring. “There. Everything you need to know about Xiu’bie.”

“C’mon, Moondancer!” Daring said, pushing the stack back across the table. “You can’t spend all your time with your muzzle in a book. Besides which, there’s no time!”

“I—ugh, I can’t believe this!”

Moondancer slipped off her couch and began pacing, angrily.

“You can’t just come in here and ask me to go running off on an adventure with you on such short notice, you know!” she said. “I mean, I’d need to pack, and—”

“That’s fine!” Daring said. “I still need to make preparations, myself. Look, how about this...”

She reached over to her (technically, A.K. Yearling’s) coat and reached inside one of the pockets, her hoof re-emerging a moment later with a pair of train tickets.

“These’ll get you from Canterlot to Mt. Aris,” she said, laying them down on Moondancer’s coffee table. “I’ll wait for you tomorrow at the train station. If you show up, then hey, great! If you don’t, I won’t hold it against you.”

“The... Canterlot train station, right?”

“No, the one at Mt. Aris. I’ll be going on ahead.”

Moondancer nearly choked on her coffee. “You want me to ride the train from here to a remote island in the southern seas alone!?”

“Well... yeah,” Daring said. “Ponies do it all the time, now that the hippogriffs are back above water.”

“But... but... but what if Caballeron sends some of his goons after me? I’d be defenceless!”

“Why would they?” Daring said. “It’s me they want. Caballeron doesn’t even know you exist.”

“He might now!”

“Then maybe you’ll finally get the chance to put some of those spells you’ve researched to good use.”

Daring sighed. “Look, I’m not going to pretend it won’t be dangerous. Everything involving this is dangerous. But you’re really my last hope here, Moon, and you know how bad it would be if the Crown of Cthonia fell into the wrong hooves.”

Oh, that she did know... assuming the thing actually existed. Which, given who she was talking to...

“I’ll think about it,” Moondancer said.

“That’s all I’m asking.”

Daring stood up and stretched.

“Ahhh. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go see a pony about a boat.”

“...a friend asked me to help them with something,” Moondancer finished. Obviously, she wasn’t going to reveal who exactly her friend was—Minuette never would have believed her anyway.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah,” Moondancer said. “Problem is, the thing they want help with isn’t exactly... simple.” She snatched up one of the doughnuts from the box—jelly, her favourite. “Or, uh... in Canterlot,” she muttered.

“So?”

“So, I don’t know if I can actually help them or not,” Moondancer said.

Minuette draped her elbow over the back of her seat. “Well, can you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, they must have gone to you for a reason, right?” she replied, gesturing with a doughnut of her own. “So obviously they think you can help them.”

“Well, yeah,” Moondancer said.

“So can you help them or not?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“That’s not a no~o!” Minuette sing-songed, grinning again. She popped the rest of the doughnut in her mouth.

Moondancer groaned. “Alright, yes, technically speaking I can help them. I just don’t know if I’m up for it. I mean, I’ve never even been outside of Canterlot before,” Moondancer said. “Heck, I’ve never even been on a train! And they want me to go all the way to—”

Minuette’s look of curiosity made her stumble. Probably best not to give the actual destination, she reflected.

“—to Fillydelphia. Alone!” Moondancer took a bite from her doughnut. The jelly filling only did a little for her mood. “I mean really, coming out fo the blue like that—”

“Wait, seriously?” Minuette’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ve never left Canterlot.”

Moondancer blinked. “Uh... No?”

“...Never?”

“Nope.” Moondancer took another bite out of her doughnut. “I don’t see what the big deal is. I mean, why would I want to leave Canterlot? This place is great!”

Minuette stared at her for a few more seconds, her jaw loose.

“Alright, well that settles it,” she eventually said, recomposing herself. “Now you have to go.”

“What? Why?” Honestly, Moondancer was shocked; she’d never seen Minuette look so serious before.

“Because there’s way more to life than this boring old city, and you’re about a decade past the age you were supposed to figure that out,” Minuette said. “And now’s your chance!”

“But I’ve got so much studying I need to get done—”

“Moondancer, you know I love you, but you can’t spend your entire life with your muzzle in a book.”

Moondancer rubbed her temples. “Why does everypony always say that?”

“Because it’s true, filly!”

Minuette took another doughnut out of the box.

“Look,” she said. “Your friend’s counting on you. And obviously you want to help them, otherwise you wouldn’t be so messed up about it.”

“I’m not messed up about it!” Moondancer said. “I’m just... nervous.”

“And that’s fine!” Minuette said. “But you can’t let a little nervousness get in the way of friendship!”

“You’re starting to sound like Twilight.”

Minuette took another bite out of her pastry and wiggled her eyebrows. “And Twilight’s a princess, so if I sound like her, you know I’m right.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“Sure it does. C’mon, broaden your horizons a little!” She took one last bite out of her doughnut, finishing off the last few crumbs. “It won’t be as bad as you think it’s going to be, I promise.”

Moondancer sighed.

“I guess you’re right,” she said. She smiled. “Thanks, Minnie.”

“Anytime, Moon.”

As Moondancer exited the store, she brushed past a pair of very familliar ponies entering—who, after staring at her for a few moments, made their way over to the very same table she’d been sitting at.

“Hey, Lemons, Twinkleshine!” Minuette said, holding up a doughnut. “How’s it hanging?”

“Was that Moondancer?” Lemon Hearts asked.

Twinkleshine was still staring at the door. “She got here before us?”

“Yep, and yep!” Minuette said. “A friend of hers is in trouble, and she needed some advice.”

“...Moondancer has friends besides us?”

“I know! Isn’t it great?” Minuette beamed. “Now sit down and grab a doughnut before I eat them all myself.”

The train’s whistle shrieked, and jets of steam obscured the platform from the view of Moondancer’s window. The low rumble from the train’s underbelly as it began to pull away only added to the queasy feeling in her gut.

“Why did I let Minuette talk me into this?” she grumbled.

Moondancer reached over and pulled her suitcase over to herself so it wouldn’t fall off the seat. She’d been told to put it in the luggage car, but with what she’d packed, she wouldn’t feel safe unless it was safely in sight.

The train’s whistle blew again, startling her and making her knock her glasses askew. Moondancer decided that she really, really didn’t like trains.

She pulled them down and retrieved a polishing cloth from inside her suitcase. As she set about cleaning them—the rhythmic motion really did help sooth her nerves—someone slipped into the seat across from her.

Moondancer’s heart skipped a beat. Was this normal? It could be, she supposed—but what if it was one of Caballeron’s men? In her panic, she fumbled trying to get her glasses back onto her muzzle. This, of course, only made her panic harder.

“First time?” the pony-shaped blur asked.

“Y-yeah,” Moondancer said, chuckling nervously—but then froze. She knew that voice.

Finally replacing her glasses, she found it was exactly who she’d thought it was—and who she’d been hoping it hadn’t been.

“Minuette?”

Minuette grinned. “Heya, Moonie!”

“What are you doing here!?”

“Well, since you were so worried about travelling alone, I thought you might like a travelling partner! And, y’know, it is my day off...”

She glanced towards the window. “Thiiiis isn’t the train to Filly, though.”

Moondancer couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Minnuette, you can’t just—I—you—Argh!”

She threw her hooves up in the air.

“You can’t just show up like this!” she said. “Celestia, you’re even worse than Da—”

Minuette cocked her head to the side. “Da...?”

“Look, it isn’t important,” Moondancer said. “What is important is that you aren’t supposed to be here!”

“Hey, hey, calm down!” Minuette said, holding up her hooves. “It’s not that big of a deal, is it?”

“It kind of is, yeah!” Moondancer said. “You really can’t be here, Minuette! I can’t believe you would just, just invite yourself...”

Moondancer trailed off. Minuette’s ears had fallen back against her head, and her grin had faded.

She sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m overreacting.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Minuette said. “I knew you were being vague, but I didn’t think it was that important.” She began to stand up. I’ll get out of your mane.”

This was just going to make an already complicated situation even more complicated, Moondancer knew that—but Minuette wasn’t exactly the kind of pony you said no to.

“No, no really, it’s fine,” Moondancer said. “I’m happy you’re here, actually, just... maybe ask, next time?”

“Deal,” Minuette said, falling back into her seat. She glanced towards the window again. The blue line of the ocean was becoming visible, in the distance, and growing closer by the second as they moved towards the coast. “Sooooo... where are we headed, exactly?”

Well, there was no way she could hide her destination from the mare now; she’d just have to hope Minuette didn’t get too nosey.

“..Mt Aris.”

“Ooh, where the Hippogriffs live?” Minuette exclaimed. “I’ve always wanted to visit! I hear Harmonizing Heights is amazing this time of year.”

“Yeah, it probably is.”

“Wait, so you have a friend who lives at Mt. Aris?” Minuette gasped. “Are they a hippogriff? Can I meet them?”

“No, no, and no,” Moondancer said. “You’re not supposed to be here, remember? My friend’s a very private person.”

Technically not untrue. Technically.

“Aw, c’mon,” Minuette said. “I’ll be gentle, I promise!”

“Minnie, I’m serious,” Moondancer said, putting a little more firmness into her words. “I told her I’d be coming alone, and—I can’t tell you why, it’s personal, but it’s important, okay? If you want to come along, that’s fine, but I need you to promise me you won’t interfere.”

“Alright,” Minuette said, holding up her hooves in surrender. “I guess I’ll just wait around while you’re helping your secret friend with her secret mission.”

“Minuette...”

“I’m kidding.” Minnuette grinned. “I’ll go sight-seeing while you’re off doing your thing. But, hey—when you’re done, come find me, yeah? We can have a little vacation!”

Moondancer couldn’t help but smile back. Lounging on the beachside with a novel and one of those fancy drinks with the umbrellas in them did have a certain appeal to it. Maybe, just maybe, she could make this work.

“Deal. Thanks, Minnie.”

“Anytime, Moon.”

Many miles later...

Moondancer was jolted from her thoughts by the sudden shaking of the train as it began to decelerate. The shrieking of the brakes filled the air. Immediately, the panic she’d felt at the outset of her journey returned in full force.

“Are you alright?” Minuette asked, looking none the worse for wear herself.

“Just peachy,” Moondancer lied, through gritted teeth. She’d come to the conclusion that no, she really didn’t like trains. “What’s happening?”

“We’re arriving, silly! Look out the window.”

At Minuette’s beckoning, Moondancer cast her gaze out the glass, just in time to watch as their car left the thin land-bridge that connected the island to the mainland. From where she sat, it looked as though the ocean stretched out forever into the horizon, something Moondancer found equally beautiful and unnerving.

The train slowed as it pulled into the station, coming to a rest with a lurch. Moondancer collected her suitcase (it seemed Minuette hadn’t packed anything for herself), and, along with the other tourists, they filed out onto the platform.

“You sure you don’t want me to stick around?” Minuette asked, once they were safely off the train. “I can be pretty helpful, you know!”

“I’m sure,” Moondancer said. She smiled. “Go have some fun. I’ll meet up with you when I can.”

Minuette grinned. “Well, if you insist!”

She began to trot away. Meanwhile, Moondancer turned her attention to the station itself.

The building wasn’t very large, although the ceiling was quite high, and supported by stone pillars. However, even looking up there, there was something conspicuously absent from the picture.

“Where’s Daring?” she murmured to herself, scanning the platform a second time, but to no avail. Neither the adventurous pegasus, nor her literary alter-ego seemed to be present, no matter how hard she looked.

Her confusion must have been quite apparent, because suddenly Minuette was back by her side.

“Everything okay?” she asked. “Sorry, I know I said I was going, but you look lost.”

“My, uh, friend was supposed to meet me here,” Moondancer said, biting her lip. The implications of Daring’s absence were... worrying, to say the least.

“You don’t see her anywhere?” Minuette asked. “This place isn’t that big...”

Moondancer shook her head.

“Well, then maybe one of the staff have,” she said. And before Moondancer could stop her, she was off. There was a janitor, a hippogriff, mopping up a section of the station’s floor; Minuette called out to him.

“Excuse me,” she said. “Do you have a minute?”

“Plenty,” he said, turning around and leaning against his mop. “What can I help you ladies with?”

“Well, my friend here—” she gestured to Moondancer “—was supposed to be meeting someone, but she can’t find them.”

“Well, I might have seen ‘em,” the janitor said. “What do they look like?”

They both looked at Moondancer expectantly.

“Uh... s-sandy pegasus with a grey mane,” she said. “Might have been wearing big, red glasses.”

The janitor hummed.

“No, I can’t say I’ve seen anyone of that description,” he said. “I probably would have noticed, too; ponies tend to stick out like a sore thumb around here. I might have run into some other friends of yours, though.”

This was a surprise. “What do you mean?”

He jerked his... Moondancer supposed it was a thumb, back towards the platform. “Those guys, over there. They asked me if I’d seen the same pony.”

Moondancer looked in the direction he was pointing. Her heart dropped into her stomach.

Standing by the train, leaning up against one of the station’s pillars, were three burley creatures. They stood on two legs, for a total of six legs each, with spiked bands around their ankles, wrists, and necks. Their noses twitched in the air, and their teeth glistened in the light.

Minuette put it quite succinctly:

“Are those... diamond dogs?”

“Sure are!” the stationworker said. “Nifty fellers, ain’t they? Here, why don’t I call them over for you?”

“I-I don’t think that’s—” Moondancer stammered, but she was too late.

“Hey, you three gentlemen!”

The diamond dogs turned towards them. As they approached, their leader caught Moondancer’s eye. She really didn’t like what she saw in there.

“What ponies want?” The biggest of the three asked, towering over them—they were even bigger up close. From this distance, Moondancer could make out the name carved into the tag around his neck: Scrapper. “We here on important business.”

“These mares were looking for the same pony you were, I think,” the janitor said.

“Really,” the big one said, squinting down at them. “Hippogriff sure?”

“Sandy pegasus with a grey mane?”

“That does sound like explorer pony,” the dog on the right said.

“Thank you for bringing this to dogs’ attention,” Scrapper said. “Dogs will take care of this now.”

“Alrighty!” he said, picking up his mop. “You folks have a good day!”

He walked off, humming a jaunty tune, leaving Moondancer and Minuette alone with the three enormous bundles of claws and teeth.

“So,” Scrapper said. “Ponies are looking for explorer pony too?”

Moondancer glanced around, but it seemed as though the platform had suddenly emptied itself at their inconvenience.

He leaned in towards them. His breath smelt of day-old fruit and something she didn’t want to identify.

“Why would ponies be looking for explorer pony, hmm?”

“Uh... Moondancer?” Minuette hissed, leaning over to her. “What’s going on?”

“Not now,” Moondancer hissed back.

“Dogs are waiting, ponies,” Scrapper said. He drummed his claws on the station foor, click—click—click—click.

“W-we were, uh...”

“Dogs don’t like waiting,” The diamond dog on the right said.

“Dogs have been waiting all day for explorer pony,” the one on the left added.

“So if ponies don’t answer soon,” Scrapper said, finishing off the trio, “then dogs might get very angry—”

“C-C-Caballeron sent us!” Moondancer blurted out.

Scrapper paused.

“...Boss Pony send you?”

Moondancer swallowed. “Y-yeah! We’re, uh... buyers! For the crown. We’re here to buy the crown.”

Scrapper’s eyes narrowed. “Boss Pony no here yet.”

“W-well—”

“Oh, that’s just like him, isn’t it?” Minuette said, suddenly taking on a strong high-Canterlot accent. “Always keeping people waiting! Well, I never—I have half a mind to go right back to Canterlot!”

The diamond dogs cast glances at one another. The one on the left shrugged.

“We know what you mean,” Scrapper said. “He tell us he be here by now, too.”

“We sure he be here soon,” the one on the right offered.

“Hmph!” Minuette hmphed. “He’d better be!”

Moondancer could do nothing but watch. She’d never known Minuette to be such a good actor—she’d slipped into this persona like she’d slipped on a jacket.

“Isn’t that right, Moondancer?”

“Uh, yeah,” Moondancer said. “Totally.”

“Well, if Caballeron arrives,” Minuette said, “tell him we’ve gone ahead to our hotel. He knows the one. And tell him he’d better be prepared to give us a good price for making us wait!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Scrapper said. “Sorry, Ma’am.”

Minuette hmphed again and spun about, drawing a still-stunned Moondancer behind her as she walked away. The Diamond dogs looked at one another, shrugged, and turned their attention back to the platform.

Several minutes passed.

“Wait,” the dog on the left said, furrowing its brow. “If ponies here to buy crown, then... “

“Then what, Fido?” Scrapper snapped.

“Then why ponies looking for Daring Do?”

The Riddle of the Seafall Spire

“Okay,” Minuette said, shutting the motel room’s door behind them. “What the heck was that?”

Moondancer let out a long breath and flopped down onto one of the beds. Her chest felt tight—like she’d just run a marathon. Or at least, what she thought it would feel like after running a marathon. Running had never been Moondancer’s strong suit.

“Moonie!” Minuette snapped. “Answers! Right now!”

“Would you believe that this is all a huge misunderstanding?” Moondancer said, wincing.

“Those dogs looked like they wanted to eat us for lunch, Moondancer!” Minuette said. “If I hadn’t taken over—”

“That was really cool, by the way. How did you—”

“Not important right now!” Minuette said. “I’m not joking around right now, Moondancer. You’ve been acting really weird about this trip since yesterday, and I’ve been okay with it. But if you’ve gotten yourself into something dangerous, I need to know. As your friend. Before you do anything stupid without me.”

Moondancer considered lying... but quickly realized that, in this case, the truth was so much stranger than fiction that any lie she might have come up with would be completely unbelievable. And, frankly, at this point, she could use all the help she could get.

“You know who A.K. Yearling is, right?” she said.

“Of course,” Minuette scoffed. “She wrote the Daring Doo books. You and Twilight never stopped talking about them when we were kids.”

“Right,” Moondancer said. “Well, it turns out those books are less fictional, and more... auto-biographical.”

Minuette raised an eyebrow.

“They’re based on A.K. Yearling’s actual adventures,” Moondancer continued. “Because A.K.... is actually Daring Do.”

“Daring Do... is real?”

“Yes.”

“Wait wait wait, hang on,” Minuette said. “Sandy pegasus... so this ‘friend’ you came down to meet was Daring Do?”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Minuette snorted, and leaned up against the wall. “Well, that’s pretty cool. Does Twilight know?”

“No idea.”

“Okay,” Minuette said. “Alright. Okay. So then who’s this Caballeron guy?”

“He’s—” Moondancer blinked. “Wait, have you never read the Daring Do books?”

“I read the first one!” Minuette said. “Like, once! When I was a kid! I didn’t know there was going to be a test!”

“Alright, first of all, we’re fixing that once we get home,” Moondancer said. “Secondly, Dr. Caballeron is a tomb-raider. He steals ancient treasures and artefacts and sells them to the highest bidder, no matter how important—or dangerous—they might be.”

“So he’s, like, Daring’s nemesis then?”

“No, that’s Ahuizotal.”

“Who’s—”

“That’s not important right now,” Moondancer said. She swallowed. “I hope.”

“Okay, so if Dr. Caballeron hunts relics, and he’s coming here, and Daring hunts relics, and she was supposed to be here, then does that mean that there’s a relic here that they’re both after?”

“Pretty much,” Moondancer said. “Except it’s not here, on this island. Hang on a second.”

Her horn lit. The flap of her suitcase undid itself, and she began rummaging around inside.

“Oh, here we go.”

She pulled out a book. Pages flipped themselves under her magic’s guidance until she found what she was looking for. She held the book out so Minuette could see.

“This,” she said, pointing, “is the Crown of Cthonia.”

An illustration of a crown sat on the page—but it was no ordinary creation of gold or silver, no; this was delicately moulded in the shape of a wreath of coral and seaweed, with jewels not so much inset as being held on to by the tendrils of the thing itself. Strange inscriptions encircled the crown’s base.

“The Crown of Cthonia is a legendary artefact created by the ancient Hippocampian civilization,” Moondancer explained. “The precursor to the modern Hippogriff/Seapony kingdom of today. It belonged to one of their Queens, Cthonia the Sea-Mither, who used it to defeat the Nuckelavee. Make sense so far?”

Minuette nodded. “All the important bits. What’s a Nuckelavee?”

“It’s an ancient demon, sort of like a centaur. Body of a horse, torso of a monkey. No skin.”

“That seems like it would get uncomfortable after a while.”

“I don’t think it cared, Minnie,” Moondancer said. “It was a plague-demon. Pestilence and death followed in its footsteps. So, to stop it from destroying all life as we know it, Queen Cthonia used her crown as a vessel to seal away its power. Which would have been fine, except according to the legends, anyone who wears the crown inherits the Nuckelavee’s magic.”

“Thaaat sounds bad.”

“It is,” Moondancer said. “It’s incredibly dangerous. If it got into the wrong hooves—”

“I think I get the picture,” Minuette said. “So where is it now?”

“Well, because it was so powerful, the Hippocampians hid it,” Moondancer said. She turned the page, revealing an illustration of a massive stone door. “In the Labyrinth of Li’xsh.”

Just saying the name sent shudders down her spine.

“The location of the Labyrinth has been a mystery for centuries,” she said, shutting the book. “Until now. Daring thinks she’s found it. And it’s Daring, so she’s probably right.”

“Do you know where it is?”

“Roughly. Daring talked me through it before she asked me to come out here with her.”

“Why did she want you to come with her?” Minuette asked. “Do you two, like, normally go on adventures together? Is this a regular thing?”

“No, she wanted me to come along because I can read the Xiu’biehian, the language of the Hippocampian empire,” Moondancer said. “She thought it would help her get through the Labyrinth.”

“Okay,” Minuette said. Then she repeated herself. “Okay.”

She walked over flopped onto the bed beside her. They were both silent for a few moments.

“So... where’s Daring?” Minuette asked.

Moondancer bit her lip. “I don’t know,” she said. “She was supposed to meet me at the train station.”

“Do you think something happened to her?”

“I’m trying not to think about that.”

More silence for a while.

“Alright,” Minuette said. “So what are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, we have to do something!” she said. “What about the Hippogriffs? They’ve gotta have a guard, or a police force, or something, right?”

“They have a navy.”

Minuette blinked. “Why do they need a—alright, then we’ll tell the navy!”

“Caballeron’s probably already paid off some of them to keep things under wraps,” Moondancer explained. “He’s good at that. It’s why Daring usually has to go on her adventures alone.”

“Well... do we have an embassy here?”

“Still under construction.”

“What if we go directly to Queen Novo?”

“Good luck with that,” Moondancer said. “The Hippogriffs don’t have an open court system like we do. It could take weeks to even get anywhere near her.”

“Alright,” Minuette declared, pounding one hoof into the other. “Then it’s up to us!”

Moondancer snorted. “Us? Minuette, no offence, but we’re not exactly ‘save the world’ material, here.”

“Well, what else are we supposed to do?”

“Maybe we can go get someone who can do something,” Moondancer said. “Like Twilight.”

“What are we going to do, send her a letter? We can’t go back to the train station, not while big, fanged and ugly are there.”

“Well, I don’t know!” Moondancer said, throwing her hooves towards the ceiling. “It’s better than nothing!”

“Moondancer, we have to do something, now. if this crown is as dangerous as you say it is, then we don’t have a choice!”

“But if we do something, we’re going to get killed. Or worse!”

“No, look, Caballeron and his lackeys don’t know we’re here yet, right?” Minuette said. “So we have the advantage! We’ll sneak out to wherever the Labyrinth is, grab the crown while no one’s looking, and hide it until Daring gets here! Or, heck, maybe we can smuggle it back to Equestria somehow. Either way, it’s better than just sitting around and waiting!”

“It’s not that simple,” Moondancer said. She rolled off the bed and started pacing. “Even if we managed to find the Labyrinth—which is not a guarantee!—we’d still have to make it through the Labyrinth of Li’xsh. Which, in case you haven’t guessed by now, is not going to be a walk in the park!”

“But that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” Minuette said, nudging her in the ribs. “Getting through the Labyrinth safely? That’s the whole reason Daring asked you to come here!”

“Well... yeah,” Moondancer said. “But knowing the language only gives us an edge. The Labyrinth of Li’xsh isn’t just some children’s hedge maze! It was designed to keep out anyone who went after the crown. Who knows how many people just like us have gotten trapped in there over the centuries?”

“But how many of them knew Xiu’biehian?” Minuette asked. She was grinning again.

Moondancer sighed.

“Why do I let you talk me into things?”

“Because I’m a good influence on you.”

Moondancer rolled her eyes, but her heart was still hammering away in her chest. This was a bad idea. She knew it was a bad idea.

“Alright,” she said. “We’ll need a boat.”

Compared to boats, Moondancer decided, trains really weren’t all that bad.

“So where are we going?” Minuette shouted, over the sound of the waves. She had elected to row.

“There’s a rock formation called the Seafall Spire, not far from here!” Moondancer shouted back, trying to keep as still as possible so she wouldn’t lose her lunch. “It should be just a little bit farther to the west! If Daring’s right, the entrance to the Labyrinth will be somewhere near its base!”

They’d managed to rent a boat off of one of the locals, under the pretence of being tourists looking to go on a trip around the island. One might wonder why a race that could turn aquatic at the drop of a hat would need boats, but apparently not all hippogriffs liked being half-fish.

“So what’s this spire look like?” Minuette asked, keeping her rowing steady.

Moondancer looked up from her map.

“That!”

She pointed over Minuette’s shoulder. Out of the waters jutted a vertical needle of rock, reaching up as if to pierce the sky. Its shadow swallowed their boat as they approached it, completely encompassing the craft with room to spare.

Minuette whistled. “That’s a big boulder.”

“Technically not a boulder,” Moondancer said. “But, y’know, definitely big.”

Minuette brought them up alongside it, careful not to let the waves dash their ship against the stones. Moondancer took a moment to survey the horizon, then consulted her map.

“Okay,” she said. “Daring’s hypothesis was that the Spire was meant to be a sort of natural ‘marker’ for the Labyrinth—it might even have been created by the Hippocampians. Either way, the entrance should be nearby, so we’re looking for some kind of sign, or—”

“Hey, Moon, you might want to take a look at this!”

Moondancer glanced up from her map to see Minuette leaning out over the railing of the boat. She was pointing at a section of rock—no, cleaning it, wiping away decades of sea-deposited grime with the side of her hoof, revealing...

Moondancer scrambled over and adjusted her glasses as she peered at what Minuette had found.

“Celestia,” she gasped. “That—that’s Xiu’biehian!”

Indeed, strange characters had been carved into the rock, although their edges had been smoothed slightly by time and the endless lashings of the ocean. Moondancer traced them with a hoof.

“This is incredible,” she said. “I can’t believe how well preserved these are! There must be some kind of primitive preservation spell on them—ponies didn’t invent preservation spells until two centuries after the fall of the Hippocampian empire! The implications for magical historia alone—”

“Alright, I appreciate how excited you are about this,” Minuette said. “But we’re kind of in a hurry here, right?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” Moondancer adjusted her glasses again, hoping to hide the touch of red in her cheeks. “Let me see if I can translate this...”

“Deep beneath the ocean waves

Cave at Spire’s base

Let those who seek its power

Disappear without a trace.”

“Huh,” Moondancer remarked. “It rhymes in Equish, too. Clever.”

“Well, that isn’t ominous at all,” Minuette said. “Wait, the Labyrinth’s underwater? I thought the hippogriffs only became seaponies after the Storm King invaded?”

“Actually, they’ve been flipping back and forth for millennia,” Moondancer said. “Let’s just say that the ‘swap species when in danger’ thing has historical precedent.”

“So which came first, the seapony or the hippogriff?”

“Archaeologists have been fighting over that for centuries. Either way, looks like we need to go diving.”

Minuette set about affixing the boat to the spire with a rope. Moondancer, meanwhile, turned to the bag she’d packed. From it, she withdrew a small, velvet-lined case, and from that she retrieved what at first glance might have looked like a shell necklace, but was in fact, quite a bit more.

“What’s that?” Minuette asked.

“It’s a fragment of the Pearl of the Seas, the artefact that lets hippogriffs transform into Seaponies,” Moondancer explained. “Queen Novo sent a fragment to the university for study as a sign of good faith. I may have, erm... borrowed it without asking. Just a little bit.”

She draped the thing around her neck. “I thought it might come in handy.”

“You didn’t know how right you were,” Minuette said. “So... that thing can turn us into seaponies?”

“I really hope so,” Moondancer replied. She placed her hoof over the thing and shut her eyes, drawing all her focus on the pearl fragment.

“Here goes nothing!”

A tingle ran over Moondancer’s body, and when she opened her eyes, she’d changed completely. Gone was her fuzzy coat, now replaced with a shimmering layer of scales. Small fins protruded from the ends of her hooves, and her vision seemed distorted, even with her glasses still resting on the bridge of her snout.

She tried to take a step forward, but was overcome by the sensation that her hindlegs had been tied together—and, glancing back at the singular tail that had taken their place, that descriptor wasn’t far off.

“Whoa!” Minuette said, grinning. “It worked! Way to go, Moondancer!”

She blinked. “Uh... you can still breathe up here, though, right?”

“Feels like it,” Moondancer said, experimenting with her new limbs. “Probably shouldn’t stay out of water too long, though—I don’t know if I can dry out or not.”

Bracing herself, she coiled her tail and leapt over the side of the boat. The water was cold, but refreshing. It felt good.

Now underwater, her sight, which had seemed so off on the boat, became clearer, sharper. She fought her mammalian instincts and forced herself to take a breath—and had no issue, as the gills on the sides of her neck filtered oxygen from the water. With an experimental flick of her tail, she was off, soaring underwater as easily as a pegasus might through the air.

Of all the foreign means of transport she’d experienced today, Moondancer decided, this was by far the strangest... and absolutely her favourite.

Then she remembered that there was something else that she needed to do, and, reluctantly, made her way back up to the surface.

“What, did you forget about me?” Minuette pouted, as she emerged from beneath the water. “That thing can transform both of us, right?”

“Sorry!”

One more seapony transformation later, and they were both on their way to the ocean’s floor.

“Whoa!” Minuette cried out, flailing as she tumbled through the water. “Ahh!”

“You alright?” Moondancer asked.

“No! This is weird!” Minuette said, now drifting along upside-down beside her. “How did you get the hang of this so fast!?”

Moondancer giggled.

Soon enough, they’d made their way to the seafloor. The light had dimmed as they’d descended; with a bit of concentration, however, Moondancer had managed to get the lure hanging off her head to glow softly. Guided by its light, she made a full circle of the base of the spire, which was even wider down here.

However...

“I don’t see a cave,” Moondancer said, circling back around. Apart from where various bits of aquatic life had made their homes in the rock, the surface of the spire was smooth, flush, and descended directly into a thick rug of seaweed that covered the seafloor.

“Well, if it was that easy, someone would have found it by now, right?” Minuette said.

“You’d think...”

Moondancer circled the spire again, but to no avail.

“Was there anything in your books about this?”

“Not that I can remember,” Moondancer said. She frowned. “Maybe I translated wrong?”

“Or maybe there’s some kind of trick to it,” Minuette said, swimming along the seafloor. “Like a secret door or something.”

“That’d make sense,” Moondancer said. “The Labyrinth of Li’xsh is supposed to be full of tricks and traps—what’s one more at the entrance?”

“So if that’s what it is, then how do we open it?”

“Well, in Daring’s books, usually when there’s a secret door, there’s a riddle not far away,” Moondancer said. “So...”

“That’s gotta be an embellishment, though, right?” Minuette said. “I mean, really? Leaving the trick to open the door around where anyone could find it? That just seems silly.”

“Daring doesn’t embellish. If anything, I think she cuts the really weird stuff out. Apparently future-proofing was a near-universal practice in the pre-historia days.”

“It’s almost like all these ancient civilizations knew they would all disappear one day and left a bunch of clues behind just in case.”

“Almost.”

“Alright, so, riddle,” Minuette said. “What about the message on the spire? It rhymed, didn’t it? Aren’t ancient riddles supposed to rhyme?”

“It’s possible,” Moondancer said. She swam lazily around the spire as she thought: the aquatic equivalent of pacing.

“The first two lines pointed us here,” she murmured. “So we can probably ignore them. The other two...”

“Weren’t those just a warning?” Minuette asked, as Moondancer circled past her.

“They definitely sound like it,” Moondancer said. “Let those who seek its power... Disappear without a trace...”

She frowned.

“Well, we’re definitely seeking it,” she said. “Disappearing without a trace... How do we...”

She gasped. “That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“Let those who seek its power disappear without a trace! It’s not a warning— it’s instructions!” Moondancer explained. “Underwater, the light doesn’t travel as far—when it’s dark out, it becomes almost pitch black! Everything disappears!”

“So, what, we have to wait until nighttime?” Minuette asked. “Sundown isn’t for another three hours...”

“I think we’d have to wait for a new moon, specifically,” Moondancer said. “Or maybe even an eclipse. Luckily, I know a shortcut.”

She lit her lure. Apparently the thing acted more like a horn than she’d first thought. Seizing hold of the ambient leylines like she had been ever since casting her fist spell, she began to weave together an old favourite.

Her lure flashed—but it flashed dark. Darkness, typically, is characterized as the absence of light, but what emerged from Moondancer’s horn was something different—a malleable, tangible darkness ,which spread across the water and bathed them in shadow.

“Lucky Lux’s Secret Shadow Spell,” Moondancer said, pride in her voice, as the last of the sunlight was snuffed out. “Learned it when I was five so my parents wouldn’t catch me up reading past my bedtime. Never fails.”

“Alright, Moondancer!” Minuette cheered. “Hey, look, I see something!”

She pointed towards the base of the spire. Moondancer, of course, couldn’t see her doing so, it was too dark—but she could see what she was pointing at.

There, some twelve meters below them, was a ring of faint electric-blue light in the thick seaweed below. Moondancer swam towards it, keeping one forelimb outstretched so she wouldn’t hit anything in the darkness. She could feel Minuette moving through the water behind her.

As it turned out, the unnatural blue glow had a very natural source.

“Is that... seaweed?” Minuette said.

“Bioluminescent seaweed,” Moondancer remarked. “That’s one way to hide an entrance.” She pressed her hoof into the marked spot—and it sank in to her shoulder. “I think there’s a tunnel back here!”

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

It was a tight squeeze, through the tunnel; Moondancer could just barely wriggle through, the tips of the seaweed brushing against her skin. The tunnel continued downwards at a steep slope for a time, and then, abruptly, made a sharp turn upwards.

As Moondancer swam up, she thought she saw a break in the water—and a moment later, she was proven right, as the tunnel widened into a pool and her head broke through the surface. Minuette’s head emerged beside her a moment later.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Looks like some kind of undersea cavern,” Moondancer replied, peering around. She couldn’t see far—the only illumination was that of the seaweed, behind them. “I wonder how long this air pocket’s been trapped down here...”

“Well, I, for one, am glad it decided to stick around!” Minuette said. With a splash, she dragged herself out of the water and onto the floor of the cave. “Can we go back to being ponies again now? Pretty please?”

“Alright, give me a second.” Moondancer dragged her own body onto the shore, then wrapped a flipper around the pearl fragment hanging from her neck. A moment’s concentration, a flash, and they were once more creatures of the land.

“Ohhh, I love having four hooves,” Minuette said.

“Well, don’t get too used too it,” Moondancer said, standing up. She lit her horn, illuminating the rest of the cavern with the pale glow of her magic. “We’re still going to have to swim back out of here, assuming we... make... it...”

Moondancer trailed off.

Before them lay a massive stone door, but this one was not like the one in the illustrations. Ostensibly, they were similar; it was an elaborately carved thing, with various sea-themed elements dancing around its edges, and it had been inset cleanly in the stone at the back of the cavern.

What the illustrations had failed to convey was the sheer sense of intimidation it emitted. That, and the two words engraved upon the centre of the door, in the same bizarre script that had adorned the spire above.

“Turn back,” Moondancer murmured. “Just what I was thinking.”

“So...” Minuette said. “How do we open it?”

Moondancer frowned. “I guess we just...” She lit her horn, wrapped her magic around the two halves of the door, and pulled.

A gush of stale air rushed into her face, jostling her mane and sending a shiver down her spine. Dust rained down from above as the doors ground open.

“Well,” Minuette said. “That was easy.”

The two of them stepped forward and peered at what lay through the doorway. A corridor, cut cleanly from the surrounding stone, descended at a shallow angle into the darkness of the depths below.

Moondancer swallowed. Minuette took a step towards the opening, but she remained stock still.

“Well?” Minuette asked, noticing her reluctance. “Are we going, or...?”

“Minnie, wait,” Moondancer said. “ I—I’m sorry, but I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“What?” Minuette stammered. “But Caballeron—”

“I know,” Moondancer said. “I know, but hear me out. Going in there? By ourselves, without a plan? Without even telling anyone we’re down here? That’s just reckless. There has to be a smarter way to do this.”

“But we’ve already made it this far, and—”

“And that’s amazing!” Moondancer said. “I never thought we would get this far—heck, I wasn’t even convinced we could find this place! But now that we know this is here—now that we can prove the Labyrinth exists—we might be able to convince someone to help us. Or at least, come up with a better plan than walking right into what might be the world’s oldest trap. We need to be logical, here.”

Minuette stared down into the dark abyss beyond the open doors. Suddenly, now faced by the actual prospect of willingly entering that darkness, her previous unrelenting bravado seemed finally to falter.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. You know what?” she said. “Maybe I have been a bit too, uh...”

“Eager?”

“Yeah, sure, something like that.” Minuette looked down into the Labyrinth again. “Maybe you’re right. But that doesn’t mean—”

“We hate to interrupt interesting pony conversation,” said a scratchy voice, from the entrance to the cavern. “But Dogs wait too much today already!”

The two of them whirled around.

There, standing just at the edge of the waters, their fur dripping, claws and teeth glinting in the light of Moondancer’s magic, stood the three diamond dogs from the train station.

Scrapper grinned, and pointed at Minuette.

“Pony should listen to pony friend more often!”

In the Labyrinth of Li'xsh

“You!” Minuette cried.

“H-how did you find this place?” Moondancer stammered.

“Diamond Dogs not so stupid as ponies think!” Scrapper said, grinning—not a pleasant sight. “Diamond Dogs know something was wrong since train station. Diamond Dogs follow you here!”

“How did you follow us without us noticing?”

“Diamond Dogs swim!”

“Great,” Minuette said. “They’re Sea Dogs.”

“Diamond Dogs grateful!” Scrapper said, stepping towards them. “Dogs will get big reward for finding Labyrinth! Maybe even get promotion!”

“S-stay back!” Moondancer said, brandishing her horn. “I-I know thirty-eight different defensive spells, so—”

Scrapper just laughed, and continued his advance.

“Unicorns always bragging,” he said. “Unicorns know spells! Well, Scrapper been doing this for a long time, and spells never save unicorns from Scrapper before!”

He took another step forwards.

“I-I’m serious!” Moondancer said.

“So is Scrapper!”

He took another step towards them. His claws clicked against the stone.

“Minuette, cover your eyes!”

Moondancer clamped her own eyes shut, then let loose the spell she’d been building up. Her horn flashed—and the inside of the dim cavern turned as bright as the sun.

“Argh!” Scrapped squealed, covering his eyes. The other two dogs hadn’t faired much better, howling as the light blinded them.

The flash only lasted for a second, but it was enough.

“Moondancer!” Minuette gasped. “That was awesome!”

“No time!” Moondancer shouted back. “Run!”

Running might not have been Moondancer’s strong suit, but she sure was doing a whole lot of it anyway.

Scrapper’s yips and howls reverberated through the rocky tunnels behind them. The sounds of the dogs’ paws thudding on the stone floor echoed along the tunnel, and they were gaining.

“Moondancer!” Minuette shrieked. “Door!”

Moondancer looked ahead. As Minuette had said, they were coming up to a second stone door, at the end of the corridor—and this one was open.

“Got it!” Moondancer shouted back. The glow around her horn intensified. The two of them skidded through the doorway—and with a shout, Moondancer slammed it shut behind them. A metal bar hung on the back of it; she slammed that into place too, locking the door behind them.

They were both quiet for a few moments, the only sounds echoing off the walls of the stone chamber their own gasps for breath.

Something thudded against the door. The faint sounds of barking and claws scraping against stone could be heard from outside. But, thankfully...

“I think that’s going to hold them,” Minuette said, leaning up against a wall for support. She raised one hoof weakly into the air in celebration. “We made it!”

Moondancer slid down to the floor. The cold, hard stone bit into her skin.

“Oh, Celestia,” she gasped out. “Oh, Celestia. Oh, Celestia.”

As she caught her breath, she looked at their surroundings. Her own horn was the only source of illumination, but there wasn’t much in the chamber to illuminate. A round raised basin sat in the center of the room, filled with still water. Intricately carved geometric patterns adorned the walls. On the far side of the room, three doorways continued on into the darkness.

Apart from that, the room was completely empty—conspicuously so.

“I can’t believe we let them follow us,” she groaned, once it no longer hurt to do so. “We made the most cliche mistake ever.”

“I didn’t think anything that big could be so sneaky,” Minuette replied.

“You know how you promised this trip wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought it was?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you were wrong,” Moondancer said. “This is way, way worse than I thought it was going to be.”

“In my defence, if I’d known what the trip was actually for, I might not have been so insistent about going.”

Minuette stepped away from the wall and walked to the basin at the room’s center, staring at the three doorways as she went.

“So, uh... D’you have a map of this place, or...?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve totally got a map of this ancient labyrinth that’s been lost for millennia,” Moondancer said. “It’s a piece of paper with one big dot on it labelled, ‘You’re Screwed’.”

“What about the carvings on the walls? Can you translate them?”

“They’re just for decoration, I’m pretty sure,” Moondancer said. “If that’s Xiu’biehian, then it’s no dialect I’ve ever seen.”

“Okay,” Minuette said. “I guess we just... pick a door, then.”

“Are you crazy?” Moondancer said. “You seriously want to head further into the maze?”

“What, you’d rather try your luck with the Diamond Dogs?”

As if to punctuate the statement, something slammed into the door, rattling the metal bar holding it shut and sending dust trickling down from the ceiling.

“...Okay, fair point.”

Moondancer picked herself up off the floor and dusted herself off, then joined Minuette, who had made her way to the far side of the room.

“You’re supposed to stick to the right wall in mazes, right?” Minuette said, staring at the three doorways. “Or is it the left? I can never remember.”

“I think either works.”

“Right it is, then.”

The hallway beyond the door was unremarkable, save for its length and the almost snake-like way it twisted and curved. It quickly became apparent to Moondancer that there was little hope of mapping the Labyrinth out mentally—evidently, it had been designed with thwarting that in mind.

Eventually, however, they came to the end of it. Together, they emerged...

...into a very familiar-looking room, with a very familiar-looking basin at its center.

“Wait,” Minuette said. “We’re back here?”

“I... guess the path must have looped us around,” Moondancer said. “Let’s see...”

She turned around so that she was facing the doorways.

“We went in through the right door,” she said. “And we came out through the left door, and we never came across any other paths. Which means that those two are false paths, which also means that the middle door has to be progress. Right?”

“Let’s hope,” Minuette said, heading for the middle doorway. It lead to a similar hallway to the previous door, and so they set out on their way.

As they walked, Moondancer decided to ask about something that had been weighing on her mind. They were trapped, possibly forever; what harm could it do?

“Back at the train station,” she began. “That whole... thing you did.”

“What thing?” Minuette asked.

“The Posh Canterlot Noble thing,” Moondancer said. “That was amazing—it was like you were a completely different pony. How’d you do that?”

“Oh, heh,” Minuette rubbed at the back of her neck. “That thing.”

She sighed.

“I guess don’t talk about my family much, but my dad’s half of the family are from the noble class, so I kind of... had a lot of practice, growing up.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeaaaaaah...” Minuette said. “They’re all super boring. And none of them eat doughnuts. I don’t see them very often.”

They rounded a bend. Moondancer could see the exit up ahead.

“Being a noble has to have its perks, though, right?” she said. “I mean, we live in Canterlot, half the place is royalty-only.”

“You’d think,” was Minuette’s only reply.

The end of the hallway quickly approached; peering through it, Moondancer felt her heart drop.

“Again?” Minuette remarked, as they stepped back into the same room they’d just left. “How?”

“We came out the left door again,” Moondancer said. “There’s gotta be some kind of trick to this—maybe if we double back the way we came, we’ll be able to see where the paths converge?”

“It’s worth a shot.”

They headed back through the left door.

“What does Li’xsh mean, anyway?” Minuette asked, as they made their way down the corridor.

“It’s an amalgam of the Xiu’biehian words for ‘infinite’ and ‘confusion’.”

“Oh.” Minuette said. “Good.”

Eventually, they reached the end of the hallway—and once again found themselves back in the basin room.

“This is impossible,” Moondancer said. “I didn’t see anything in the hallway, did you?”

“Nope,” Minuette replied. “Solid stone, the whole way through.”

“Ugh,” Moondancer groaned. “Okay. Let’s go right again. Maybe something changed.”

Off they went... and once again, they ended up back in the room.

“Alright,” Moondancer said, strain creeping into her voice. “Left!”

The same result.

“Middle!”

“Nothing changed.

“Middle again!”

Sixth verse, same as the first. No matter what they tried, the basin room was waiting for them.

“Argh, I can’t take this anymore!” Moondancer shouted, after the ninth attempt. “I’d rather the—”

Moondancer paused.

“Wait... do you... hear anything?”

Minuette cocked an ear.

“Uh... no, seems pretty quiet to me.”

“Exactly,” Moondancer replied. “So what happened to the Diamond Dogs?”

Minuette listened again. Sure enough, the sounds of scraping paws and bodies being thrown against the door had ceased.

“Maybe they left?” she suggested, hope creeping into her voice.

“Or maybe they’re right outside, waiting to see if we open the door,” Moondancer replied.

“Or that,” Minuette said. “Still, something’s off. Should we...?

“Absolutely.”

“Alright, the honours are all yours.”

Horn at the ready, Moondancer slowly slid the iron bolt back. When the door didn’t immediately fly open in her face, she cracked it open herself—and then, after peering through, pulled it open fully.

The corridor beyond the door was empty.

The two mares glanced at each other.

They glanced at the corridor.

Within half a second of each other, both mares were running at full speed towards the Labyrinth’s entrance.

However, as the end of the tunnel came into sight...

“Oh, come on!” Moondancer screamed in frustration, as they emerged into the same room, with the same basin, and the same three doorways staring mockingly at them from across the room.

“Did we just...” Minuette spun around and looked back the way they’d come. “Did we just come in through the same door we left through!?”

“Argh!”

Moondancer stomped up to the basin, her teeth grit.

“I am so sick of this stupid! Room!”

She dunked her head into the water. Distorted screaming and a whole lot of bubbles followed.

“I think,” Minuette said, after a moment, “it’s time to take a break.”

“So what’s Daring Do like, anyway?” Minuette asked.

They’d both sat down on the floor of the room, Minuette against the wall and Moondancer against the basin.

“Why do you want to know?” Moondancer asked.

“Well, I was kinda looking forward to meeting her,” Minuette said. “I mean, you and Twilight were always gushing about how cool she was when we were kids. I wanted to know if she lives up to the hype.”

Moondancer chuckled. “Yeah, I guess we did kinda talk your ears off as kids, huh.”

“Hey, I wasn’t complaining,” Minuette said. “It was always nice to see you two actually socializing for once.”

“Well, she’s...” Moondancer twirled a hoof, trying to think of the right words. “She’s... larger than life, I guess.”

“How so?”

“Well... in the books, she’s this unstoppable force,” she said. “Even when things get really dire, she manages to get out alive, and save the day in the process. And in real life... she’s still like that! And it’s kind of surreal to think about, when you’re sitting across from her, drinking tea, and talking about the ancient customs of the lost Bushwoolie tribes.”

“So she’s exactly the same as she is in the books?”

“Well... maybe a little bit more nuanced,” Moondancer said. “The books don’t do a great job showing off how much effort she puts into planning her expeditions—not exactly page-turning material for the general public, I guess. But it’s like talking to a real-life fictional character. She shows up, and suddenly everything gets more interesting.”

“Sounds kinda like talking to Twilight,” Minuette said. Moondancer snorted.

“Yeah, pretty much. Crazy times we live in, huh?”

“Equestria’s nearly been taken over, what, like eleven times in the last nine years?”

“We’ve lived through two different invasions of Canterlot. By two different armies!”

“And we got to be there for the first official coronation in over a thousand years,” Minuette said.

“What about Cadance?”

“Eh, she doesn’t count.”

“She absolutely counts.”

“Whatever,” Minuette said, waving the objection away. “Point is—life in general kinda feels like a fantasy these days, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it does,” Moondancer said.

They were both silent for a few moments.

“When I was a kid, I always kinda thought, y’know,” Moondancer said, idly scratching a pattern in the dust on the floor of the cave. “That that would be me one day, I guess.”

“That you would be what?”

“Like the protagonist from one of my books,” Moondancer said. “Y’know. Like Daring. Or Twilight. Larger than life.”

She chuckled.

“I guess things just don’t really work that way in real life, huh?” she said. “Not to ponies like us, anyway.”

“Well... I don’t know about that.”

Moondancer blinked.

“Huh?”

“I don’t think there are special and normal people,” Minuette said. “I think there’s just... people.”

This was a very different Minuette than the one Moondancer was used to. Quieter. It made her uneasy.

“How can you say that, with everything that’s happened?” Moondancer asked. “We personally know a several-times saviour of Equestria and the world unicorn-turned alicorn princess. There’s a group of ponies in Ponyville who’ve done more for national security than the entire guard combined. And they’re personal friends with actual, literal gods!

“And then there’s... us. A dentist and a bookworm.” She held up a hoof, before Minuette could object. “And there’s nothing wrong with that! But we’re just not in the same league as ponies like Daring, or Twilight. We aren’t cut from the same mold.”

“Well... see, that’s the thing,” Minuette said. She stood up, trotted over, and slumped against the basin next to Moondancer. They were so close, Moondancer could feel her warmth, and it made her blush a little. Just a little.

“If we’re just normal, ordinary ponies, then how did we make it this far?” Minuette continued. “How did we make it out of that train station? How did you solve the riddle of the Spire?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t make it very far after that. Still trapped, remember?”

“Yeah, but we still made it further than any pony has in centuries!” Minuette said. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

“But we’re only here because of Daring,” Moondancer said. “If she—or heck, if Twilight, even—were here instead of us, the crown would already be on its way back to Mt. Aris by now.”

“Yeah, but we’re here,” Minuette said. “And I don’t see Twilight or Daring around anywhere, do you?

“Look, the way I see it, if you spend your whole life telling yourself that you can’t do things, then you’re never going to be able to do them,” Minuette said. “And not being able to do those things is going to make you believe you can’t even harder. And that’s just going to make you miserable forever.

“Ponies like Twilight, and Daring—I don’t think they wake up in the mornings and go, ‘I think I’m going to save the world today.’ They get up, brush their teeth, and stub their hooves on their kitchen tables, just like the rest of us.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever stubbed my hoof on a kitchen table,” Moondancer said. “Can you even stub a hoof?”

“Not important,” Minuette said. “The only difference is that ponies like Daring and Twilight stepped up and did the things they needed to do, when they needed to do them. Because if they didn’t, they wouldn’t be happy. And that’s a choice.”

She tilted her head up to the ceiling.

“We’re all just trying to be happy, Moondancer. No special people and ordinary people. Just... people. Trying to be happy. Together.”

She chuckled. “At least, that’s what I think. I’m a dentist, not a philosopher.”

Moondancer stared at her friend.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” she said.

“I do know that,” Minuette said. “But thanks for noticing.”

Moondancer snorted. “No, really, I mean it. You’re so... you’re so you. I can’t do that kind of thing.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here!” Minuette said, grinning. “To give you an occasional kick in the patooie. What else are friends for?”

Moondancer chuckled. “You’re starting to sound like Twilight again.”

“Yeah, well, there are worse ponies to sound like.”

They both laughed a bit at that, then fell silent for a while. Moondancer was glad for it—she needed time to get her thoughts together after all that had just happened.

Her glasses had gone askew again, she suddenly realized, at some point in all the confusion. She raised a hoof to straighten them—but then something caught her eye. Something she had overlooked.

Moondancer looked at her hoof, and the dust that had clung to her coat..

She looked at the dust on the floor.

She looked at the floor below the three doors.

It was pristine in its uncleanliness.

She frowned.

“But if that’s the case,” she murmured, “then how would anyone be able to...”

Her eyes widened. “So that’s what it’s for...”

Minuette looked up. “Huh?”

“Hang on,” Moondancer said, getting to her hooves. “I’ve got an idea.”

She lit her horn. A bubble of telekinetic force took hold of some of the water contained within the basin, drawing it up and floating it into the air.

“What are you...”

“If I’m right,” she said, trotting over to one of the corridor entrances. “Then...”

She brought the water over to the leftmost door, then let some of it pour out into the corridor. Curiously, instead of pooling where it landed, it flowed back towards her.

As Minuette watched, she repeated the procedure for the other two doors. The results were much the same for the one in the middle, but the one on the right...

“Yes!” Moondancer exclaimed. “I was right!”

The water had not pooled this time, nor had it flowed back into the room. This time, the water flowed away—down the corridor.

“C’mon,” Moondancer said. “Let’s follow it!”

Utterly confused, Minuette nonetheless chased after her friend as she pursued the thin stream of water down the hallway. Eventually, they came out into the same room once again—but once the water reached the edge of the doorway, it stopped flowing and began to puddle.

“What are you doing?” Minuette asked.

“Hang on,” Moondancer said, heading to the basin to replenish her water supply. “I need to increase my sample size.”

She repeated the procedure she had done previously, pouring water into each of the doorways. This time, it was the middle that flowed downwards.

“Yes!” Moondancer cheered. “Hypothesis proven! No review board would ever accept a sample size of two, but in this case, I think we can make an exception!”

“I don’t understand,” Minuette said. “What does all this stuff with the water mean?”

“It means,” Minuette said, “that the Labyrinth of Lix’sh isn’t just a maze, and it isn’t just this room—it’s a vertical structure made out of many of this room. The corridors are built at very slight inclines, so slight you wouldn’t notice it, that gradually lead up or down to the next identical floor. We haven’t been going in circles, Minnie! We’ve been going up and down!”

Minuette’s eyes widened. “Then—”

“The crown has to be on the bottom layer for it to make any sense,” Moondancer said. “We can use the water to check which corridors lead downwards! We’re going to make it out of here, Minnie! We’re going to—”

Minuette’s hug caught her in the middle of her declaration.

It was not an unwelcome interruption.

Moondancer stopped counting the floors when they passed forty.

“How did they even build all of this?” Minuette said, around floor seventy-eight.

Moondancer shrugged. “Magic, I guess.”

Eventually, however, they emerged from one of the countless corridors and found themselves, at long last, in a room that wasn’t identical to the one they had just left.

In quite a big way.

“Whoa,” Moondancer said, as she stepped into a chamber so large she could have fit the entirety of her tower library into it with room to spare. The walls here were more ornately carved than the ones in the Labyrinth had been, and the high ceiling was supported by thick columns too big to wrap one’s arms around. Plinths lined the walls, emitting a soft light of their own, as if by magic—which was a relief for Moondancer, as it meant she could finally release her light spell.

And, sitting in the middle of the room, on a marble throne, sat—

“The Crown of Cthonia!” Minuette gasped. “We made it, Moon!”

“It really exists,” Moondancer breathed. She scrambled forwards, up the steps to the dias.

The crown was every bit as strange and intricately beutiful as the illustration had made it out to be—if not even more so. Moondancer made a complete circle of the thing, simply gawking at it.

“So, uh...” Minuette said. “Do we just grab this thing, or...?”

“It might be booby-trapped,” Moondancer replied.

“Should we try and swap it out for a bag of sand or something?”

“We don’t have a bag,” Moondancer said. “Or sand, for that matter.”

She gave the dias itself a closer look. “It doesn’t look booby-trapped. Maybe they figured that no one would ever get through the maze, so they didn’t need to bother?”

“Only one way to find out,” Minuette said.

Moondancer sighed.

“Alright,” she said. “On three. One...”

She lit her horn. “Two...

“Three!”

She swiped the crown off its pedestal. Her muscles tensed, waiting for something to happen...

...but nothing did.

“Huh,” she said, relaxing. “I guess we were worried over nothing.”

Minuette shrugged. Together, they stepped off the dias, crown in tow, and made their way back down the steps.

“Well,” Moondancer said. “That honestly went a lot better than I—”

A sharp, metallic ringing sounded behind them. They turned around—just in time to watch as a massive iron blade whipped out of the floor and cleaved through the air where they’d been standing just moments before.

“...Huh,” Minuette said, looking very pale all of a sudden. “I... guess it was just a little... rusty.”

“Y-yeah,” Moondancer said. Her heart, she noticed, was beating twice as fast as it normally did. “G-good thing we...”

Minuette nodded. “I think we should probably leave now.”

“You read my mind.”

The passage seemed like it went on forever—Moondancer’s knees, already tired from all the walking they’d done back in the Labyrinth, certainly thought so—but eventually they came to the end: a smooth, flat block of stone, set on hinges.

Moondancer pushed the thing open slowly, but whatever hinge mechanism the thing had been built with must have been an engineering marvel, because the slab slid open in complete silence. Beyond the door was a hallway—a very familliar looking hallway—and it wasn’t silent at all.

“Ponies have to leave eventually,” came Scrapper’s voice, echoing up the hallway. Moondancer flinched—but when there was no immediate barking, snarling, or howling in their direction, she became curious. Peeking around the edge of the door, she spotted the three dogs congregated around the entrance to the Labyrinth. And, more importantly, attentively facing towards it.

"Why dogs not just dig through door?" The one on the left said.

"Why dogs bother?" Scrapper said. "Door might be important to Boss Pony! Ponies open door soon anyway."

“Maybe ponies find another way out?” The dog on the right suggested.

Scrapper smacked him over the ears. “Dog stupid! That exactly what ponies want dogs to think! Ponies probably sitting behind door, wondering if dogs gone yet. Ponies leave any minute now.”

Moondancer looked at Minuette. They both stifled a giggle, then, as quietly as they could, made their way back up the hallway.

The journey back to the Spire went smoothly, and soon enough they were back on their boat.

Moondancer turned the crown around in her magic, examining the thing. It really was beautiful. And it was strange; in her magical grasp, the thing felt... alive, somehow. Even in this inert state, she could feel the power inside it, struggling to break free. It wanted to be free. She could set it free, if only she—

“Yeah, no.” Moondancer stuffed the thing into her bag. “Not in the mood for that today.”

She turned to Minuette, who had just finished unmooring them from the Spire.

“We ready to go?”

“Aye, cap’n!” She picked up the oars and began rowing.

“So,” Minuette said. “We navigated the Labyrinth of Li’xsh, secured the Crown of Cthonia, and generally saved the day all around. Not bad for a dentist and a bookworm, huh?”

“I guess not,” Moondancer said.

She cast a glance towards Mt Aris, off in the distance.

“What do we do now?”

“...D’you think they have any doughnut shops around here?”

“Well, it’s not a doughnut,” Minuette said, swallowing the second bite of her malasada. “But I guess it’ll do.”

They’d found a little food stand, set up on one of the beaches, with some chairs and tables laid out. They were currently sitting at one of them, the ocean sunset forming a nice backdrop to their meal.

“I kinda like it,” Moondancer said. “It’s different.”

“Yeah, I guess—”

Something seemed to catch Minuette’s eye; turning, Moondancer spotted it—or, rather, her—too.

Daring Do had also seen them, it seemed, because she was walking towards them at a brisk pace. Her khaki shirt was torn and ragged, and her pith hat—normally so ubiquitous—was missing entirely. A bandage had been wrapped around her right foreleg.

Simply put: she looked like Tartarus.

“Moondancer! Oh there you are, I am so sorry, Caballeron derailed me—literally derailed my train! I mean, who does tha—”

She blinked. “Who’s this?”

“A friend of mine.”

Minuette waved.

“Has she, uh...” Daring gestured in Minuette’s direction. “Y’know... read my...?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, thank Celestia. I don’t know if I could deal with another Rainbow Dash.”

Daring plunked down into one of the seats at their table.

“Alright, so,” she said. “I think I was able to delay Caballeron, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned about that stallion, it’s that he’s persistent, so we may not have much time. So, I say we head for the Seafall Spire immediately. I’ve had a boat prepared ahead of time, and—why are you looking at me like that?”

In response, Moondancer slid a cloth bag across the table.

Raising an eyebrow, Daring picked up the bag and peered inside.

Her jaw dropped.

“Is this...?”

“The Crown of Cthonia,” Moondancer said. “Retrieved from the bottom of the Labyrinth of Li’xsh. You’re welcome.”

“You got this all by yourself?”

“We did,” Moondancer corrected her. “All by ourselves.”

“...In one afternoon.”

“Well, you did say time was of the essence.”

Daring laughed. “This is incredible, Moondancer! And, er, other pony.”

“Minuette.”

“Well, great job, both of you.” Daring relaxed into her chair. “Aaaah. Y’know, I’m really glad you pulled this off, because I’m exhausted. Y’know, my editor keeps telling me I’m getting too old to do these kinds of things. Maybe she’s more right than I thought she was.”

She peered at the two of them. “You guys want to turn this into a regular thing? It’s starting to look like I could use the help.”

“I think I’m happy with my books for the moment, sorry,” Moondancer said.

“And I’ve got a practice to run,” Minuette said. “Cavities don’t fill themselves.”

“But...” Moondancer hummed. “Maybe we could do this again some time? Not, like, soon, but if the situation ever demands it...”

Daring chuckled. “I always knew you had a bit of the adventuring spirit in you, Moondancer.”

“Welp,” she said, grabbing the bag and standing up. “I’d love to stay and hear the full story—and we’re going to do that, at some point—but I’ve gotta get this thing somewhere no one’s ever going to find it.” She chuckled. “And then, I’m going to take a really long shower, and a really long nap. Catch you later, Moondancer.”

Moondancer watched her as she left, taking the bag—and the crown—with her, until she disappeared from view.

“Y’know, I think you might be right,” she said. “Maybe there are just... people.”

Minuette lifted a malasada up in a mock toast. “To people.”

Monndancer grinned, and raised her own.

“To people.”

They clinked their pastries together.

“So, what does Daring do with all these ancient, evil artefacts?” Minuette asked. “Just store them in a warehouse somewhere?”

“No idea.”

Deep within the bowels of Canterlot, there’s a shop that not many ponies know about. Ostensibly, it’s an antiques shop, but they haven’t made a real sale in years. This is reflected in the furniture, which, despite its owner’s best efforts, is perennially covered in dust.

But that’s okay, because it’s only ostensibly an antiques shop.

The bell over the door tinkled as Daring Do stepped inside, though currently she was dressed as A.K. Yearling, hat and glasses and all. The shop’s owner, slumped behind the counter, laid down the novel she’d been reading and straightened up.

“Miss Yearling,” she said. “This is a pleasant surprise. Business or pleasure?”

“Business today, sorry.” She laid a familiar-looking cloth bag on the countertop. “Be careful with this one. It’s bad news.”

The shopkeep peered inside the bag.

“Looks Hippocampian,” she said. “Is this the Crown of Cthonia?”

“It may or may not be,” Daring said. “And it’s a bit frisky, so try and suppress any urges you might get to try it on.”

“Not to worry, Miss Yearling; I’m a professional.” The shopkeep took the bag and dropped it behind the counter. “It’ll be in the vault before sunrise, and I’ll have a replica ready for you by Monday. Two hundred bits, please.”

Daring dropped a second bag on the countertop. This one jingled.

“Thanks,” she said. “That’s a weight off my mind. You’re a real lifesaver, you know that, Twinkleshine?”

Twinkleshine grinned.

“Just doing my job.”