At the height of the dry season, the tropical sun beat down on the streets of Neighrobi as if it bore the town a personal grudge. Anypony with an ounce of sense arranged their schedules so as to be somewhere dark and cool during the midday hours, and Clutterbuck had more sense than most. Her favorite noontime retreat was the member's lounge at the Neighrobi Racing Club, an organization that catered to zebras, griffons, and assorted other peoples besides the predominant crowd of Equestrian expatriots. Everycreature loved a good race.
Clutterbuck fanned her wings slightly as she entered the dim, high-ceilinged room, letting the heat of her body dissipate in the cool air. She gave a nod to the giraffe behind the bar as she headed for a rear corner of the room and her customary table. There was no need to place an order; Long Kulay knew her well, and a tall frosty glass of her usual would be delivered shortly after she settled in.
But, in addition to his expected welcoming nod, Long Kulay made a curt gesture with his head toward Clutterbuck's table. She slowed her pace and fanned herself again, giving her eyes time to adjust to the low light of the room. There was somepony already sitting there, and it was a pony that she didn't immediately recognise, but was familiar somehow.
For any other member, encountering a stranger at the club would be fairly remarkable; the Happy Valley group was a large but close-knit community. For Clutterbuck, it was extraordinary. She was the best trainer of griffon racers in East Zebrica, and a minor celebrity among the sporting cognoscenti for hundreds of leagues up and down the coast. She not only knew every member and usual guest by sight, she knew nearly everyone of importance in Neighrobi.
The strange mare was sitting alone, unescorted by a member, which was technically a violation of the club's rules. She had obviously talked or bribed her way past Long Kulay, which was a considerable feat.
The stranger was a light blue pegasus with an unusual mane and tail of multicolored stripes. She leaned casually back in her chair and watched Clutterbuck approach with an air of calm confidence. A well-worn flight jacket hung from the back of the chair next to her, along with what appeared to be a silk scarf. Not a simple tourist, then. The only place that such clothing would be bearable at this time of year would be thousands of feet up in much thinner air. Clutterbuck grimaced and continued on to the table, taking a seat opposite the other pony.
The mare gave her a friendly nod. "Hello there! I'm—"
"Oh I know who you are," Clutterbuck said, scowling and ignoring the proffered hoof. "You're trouble."
The mare's smile didn't waver. "Recognized me, huh? Look, I can—"
Clutterbuck shook her head. "I recognize your type. You think you're a hot flyer, right? Fresh out from Equestria and looking to impress the locals? Maybe make few bets and... " It was then that the gold pin on the jacket caught her eye. She stared at it for a few seconds and then looked up to lock gazes with the blue pegasus.
Rainbow Dash nodded. "It's real."
"You… You're the captain of the Wonderbolts?"
Rainbow Dash offered her hoof again. "Pleased to meet you, Clutterbuck. I've heard a lot of good things about you."
Clutterbuck reached out and bumped Dash's hoof. "Likewise. Don't know how much to believe of what I've heard, though."
Dash laughed. "I was thinking the same about you! Did you really face down a fang-faced monster when you were a little filly? Save a whole bunch of your friends?"
Clutterbuck turned so that Rainbow Dash could see the long scar that ran along her left side. "Not exactly a monster, a boar about twice your size. Did this to me after I'd run a spear clear through him."
Dash considered for a second. "I think that qualifies as a monster."
"Peanuts to what you've faced. Or so I've heard."
Rainbow Dashed shrugged. "The bigger they are…"
"...the longer it takes for them to realize they're dead," Clutterbuck finished for her.
"Whoa! Dark, much?"
Clutterbuck was saved from having to reply by the arrival of their drinks. The waiter, a young zebra stallion, put her usual half-frozen slush of lightly fermented fruit juices down in front of her, and what seemed to be the same in front of Rainbow Dash. The only difference was that Dash's glass was nearly entombed under slices of fruit and colorful tiny umbrellas and flags, and impaled by a gigantic crazy straw.
Clutterbuck flicked a glance at Long Kulay, who was behind the bar, wiping a glass clean as thoroughly and carefully as if he were performing brain surgery.
Dash finally lost her grin. "What the hay?"
It was Clutterbuck's turn to display a smug smile. "He just wants you to feel at home. Canterlot types are used to ostentatious luxury, right?"
Dash laughed and took a long pull at her straw. "Not too bad. Spiked it with unblended enguli, didn't he?"
Clutterbuck blinked in surprise. "You recognize it?"
"I'm not quite the greenhorn you think I am."
"I guess not." She took another sip of her own drink while giving the Wonderbolt a long, evaluating look. "A dozen adventurers come through here every year, looking for gold, ivory, or some other easily transportable treasure. Some of them have the good grace to realize how out of their depth they are and take the next airship back to Equestria, and some just disappear into the wilds and are never heard of again." She leaned back in her chair and crossed her forehooves over her chest. "So, I guess what I'm saying is I apologize for making assumptions about you based on your appearance, but I had a good reason to."
Rainbow Dash shrugged and took another pull from the straw. "No problem. My friends and I kicked around East Zebrica for a few years. That was long before the whole plantation boom, so I'm not exactly up to date, particularly with the Happy Valley set here in Neighrobi, but I'd never forget this stuff." She clinked a hooftip against her glass. A slice of papaya dropped off the rim and hit the tabletop with a wet splat. "Tastes like bananas cursed with dark magic."
Clutterbuck chuckled. "Might be. Depends on which brand Kulay used."
Dash squinted at her. "Funny gal. Maybe someday I'll introduce you to Applejack. Got a kick that'll amaze you." She chuckled at her own private joke.
"So, what is it you've come all the way out here for?" Clutterbuck asked. "The racing is good, but not that good."
"Yeah, I caught the Night Flights yesterday evening. Impressive crew you've got. They won five out of eight races. I think?"
"Six. Showed and placed in all of them."
Dash nodded. "Northern griffins—best darned sprinters in the world. Not much for endurance, though."
Clutterbuck leaned back on her cushion and looked down her muzzle at Rainbow Dash. "You keep dodging my question."
"You're an endurance flyer, though, aren't you?" Dash leaned forward. "Set the East-West Neighrobi to Hoofington record a few years back, right?"
"Are you trying to rope me into some record hunting scheme? Or maybe thinking to pull me in as a ringer to win a big pile of gold in some bet?"
Rainbow Dash threw her hooves in the air. "Okay, yes, it's a bet, but there's no money involved. What I get is to show Twilight I'm right. What you get is gold!"
"Twilight?" Cluterbuck asked. "As in, Twilight Sparkle, the—"
"Yeah, yeah, the tall purple shade-tree that's princess of the know-it-alls and Equestria on the side!"
Clutterbuck tried not to let her jaw drop. Just what kind of madness had casually strolled into her quiet little club? She frowned. "I know I'm going to regret this, but how about you explain exactly what it is that you're after?"
Rainbow Dash took a deep breath and held up her hooves as if to preemptively fend off any reaction. "Okay. I know this is going to sound a little nutty, but believe me, I know flying better than any pony alive, and I've seen your records and I've talked with lots of ponies around here and you're probably the best endurance flyer anypony's ever seen!"
Clutterbuck rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm a trainer now. I just—"
"I'll pay you a hundred thousand bits to try for the trans-Lunar run."
Clutterbuck froze. She stared at the colorful madpony seated across from her. With that much money, she could take a year off from shepherding tourists out to see the semi-wilds around Neighrobi and concentrate on her aerie of griffons. Young Gretta was shaping up to be a champion, and with the right training she'd be a serious contender for the Zebrican Cup. If Clutterbuck had the time to coach her properly…
No! What was she thinking? It was ridiculous! A non-stop flight from Zebrica to Equestria across the Lunar Sea? Nopony had ever been insane enough to attempt it.
"I…"
Rainbow Dash reached under the table and lifted out a big bag. She dropped it on the table with a heavy thump and jingle of metal. More fruit fell off of her drink. "In cash," she said, opening the top of the bag to reveal the mound of thousand-bit coins inside.
Clutterbuck closed her gaping mouth and sighed. "Flaming Tartarus, I hope I live to regret this," she muttered, half to herself.
= = =
She made her attempt at the record-setting flight early the next spring.
Clutterbuck had trained hard through the rainy season (which ponies in more northern latitudes called winter) under the supervision of several Wonderbolt specialists. They occasionally talked among themselves about "long-range, quick-deployment squadrons" and she was fairly sure the whole enterprise was not just about a crazy bet between a couple of Canterlot's elite.
But a hundred thousand bits wasn't just a hundred thousand bits. It was freedom.
By the time the rains faded away, she was in the best shape of her life. She had managed to stay aloft on long flights over the veldt, in all sorts of weather, for nearly two days at a time on several occasions. That was well beyond the time that would be necessary to reach Canterlot, and eventually, there was nothing else she could do to make ready.
Rainbow Dash had enough pull with the Equestrian government (evidently) to get several "safety" airships stationed along her general route. The chances of her making it to one or even finding it if she got into trouble were ridiculously low, but Clutterbuck thought it was a nice gesture if nothing else. The note, reading, "See you in Canterlot. You're buying the drinks! -RD" wasn't exactly nice, but it was very Rainbow Dash.
Clutterbuck left Neighrobi from the grounds of the Racing Club one morning before dawn, with a crowd of friends, reporters, and photographers gathered to send her off, carrying only a compass, a tiny sextant, and the minimal amount of water and food she needed for the trip. A few pegasi and griffons flew with her in company until she crossed the coast, and then called out good wishes and banked away.
The first leg of her journey was easy flying, and even the first night wasn't too bad. Navigating by compass and her innate pegasus sense for air currents in the dark was about as accurate as she had assumed it would be, and she had a big course correction to make by the time the sun came up and she could take a bearing to determine her exact location.
When she had joked to Rainbow Dash that her friend the "shade tree" could make the journey a lot easier by giving her solid daylight for the whole run, the demented pegasus actually seemed to consider it, then muttered something about "real-world" conditions.
The second day was rough. The great circle route she was following took her far to the north and the air grew very cold, even well before sundown. The wild, unpredictable winds had more of an effect on her flight than she had planned for, and she had to compensate by taking a shifting diagonal heading, adding many air miles to her flight.
The dark brought another complication and a danger to her flight. A thin rime of ice began to collect on Clutterbuck's body, making her heavier and fouling her feathers.
She had suspected this might become a problem and had a simple, if somewhat terrifying solution. When the weight of ice made her feel sluggish, she would partially fold her wings and drop, shaking herself violently to rid herself of the buildup while plummeting hundreds of feet toward the ocean below. Then she would struggle back up to her cruising altitude and continue until the next time she needed to de-ice. It was a procedure that took careful flying and steady nerves even in daylight, but by then it was night, with the deadly ocean waiting in the darkness an unknown distance below.
Time and again she dove, shook, and climbed, the ice getting heavier as the night wore on. Twice, cold and abused wing muscles cramped up, and she had to grasp the wing with her hooves as she fell tumbling, pulling to stretch and relieve the cramp until she could fly again. The second time it happened, she could smell the salt in the air above the sea before she recovered. She was concerned enough that she scanned the skies for the lights of a safety airship, but the darkness was unbroken.
The third and last time it happened was just before dawn. The gray light of the brightening sky revealed a still, cloudless sky and the shadowy line of the Equestrian coast ahead. Clutterbuck allowed herself a small sigh of relief. From her altitude, she could glide to earth if she needed to, and she hoped the warmth of the day would give her enough energy to go on another hour or so to reach Canterlot.
A short while later, the worst of the cramps hit her. The sudden jerk and pressure on her good wing was too much, and it cramped as well. She struggled as she fell, pulling one wing out of its hard, unresponsive knot and then desperately reaching for the other as the ground rushed up at her.
A Northern Territories weather team saw her go down, and streaked to the half-frozen bog where she'd crashed. They spread out in a search pattern, looking for the tawny color of her coat, but found nothing for nearly a half hour.
By the time they located her mud-covered body, she had managed to sit up and was trying unsuccessfully to pull herself out of the gelatinous ooze.
"Holy Twilight!" one of the weather ponies exclaimed. "Don't take this the wrong way, but it's a miracle you're still alive! If you'd hit solid ground at that speed…"
"Well, several of my ribs don't love me a lot right now, this wing is busted in a couple of places, and I'm pretty sure my near hind leg is—owww! Yeah, gonna need a splint for that, too. Otherwise I'm just peachy, How're you doing this morning?"
The weather pony blinked at her in astonishment for a moment and didn't reply. Another flew off with the promise to return with a medical team and a stretcher.
Clutterbuck gave up trying to wipe the clinging mud off of herself and concentrated on not sinking into the bog any further. "Where am I, anyway?" she asked.
"North of Vanhoover a ways," the pony replied. "About half a mile from the coast."
"So much for my grand arrival in Canterlot." Clutterbuck's sudden grin was a bright contrast to her dark, grimy face. "But I suppose this'll do well enough."
= = =
=
Author's Note
This is a true™* story. For the complete adventures of the amazing Clutterbuck, try this: West with the Night.
* -ish.
