Chapter 6: The Labyrinth of Logic Gates

“It’s the Labyrinth of Logic Gates,” Amethyst observed, having read that from the map and also remembering it from the mission briefing. It was also the chapter of the title, which was another clue. Also there was a sign on the door which labeled it as such.

“Are you sure?” KitKat asked, observing that the chapter wasn’t actually titled.

Amethyst took a second look at it and realized that it was not, in fact, named. "Huh, that's weird. I wonder what went wrong?" Then she blinked, for all of a sudden it was named. Apparently the auto-naming took a while to take effect.

Unlike most labyrinths which would have featured a hedge or stone walls or maybe wooden walls if it was a discount labyrinth (or cardboard if it were a Dollar General labyrinth), this one was simply a tiled pattern on the floor, a pattern of lines and symbols. There wasn’t even a cardboard cutout of David Bowie.*

KitKat had not a clue what logic gates were, nor did she understand circuit diagrams. However, she was an adventurer through and through, and had seen her fair share of traps like this. Step on the wrong thing and you’d fall into a pit and be impaled by spikes, or get blown up by an explosion or shot by a bolt from a ballista concealed behind the wall.

Just to be sure she dismounted her horse (it wouldn’t fit inside the room anyway) and picked up a rock, then tossed it towards a spot on the floor she judged to be a wrong path.

It landed and tumbled and nothing happened to it.

“I either got lucky or else—” Her thought was interrupted by a brilliant blue white flash of artificial lightning, suffusing the entire room in a brilliant arc glow, and when the adventurer’s vision cleared the rock was gone.

As it turned out, her little experiment had provided an unexpected result. Not unexpected to her; but unexpected to the designers of the trap. You weren’t supposed to know what the results of triggering the trap were, and since they’d known that most adventurers worth their salt would chuck a rock in to see what happens, rocks weren’t supposed to trigger it. Rocks weren’t all that conductive.

KitKat had picked up the one rock that was loaded with copper and iron simply because it was shiny and a good size to toss, and the results spoke for themselves.

“That smells like electricity,” Amethyst observed. She turned her attention to a sign on the wall, directly next to the door. It was a yellow warning triangle with an anthro silhouette being pierced by a zig-zaggy lightning bolt. “And this just confirms it.”**

Amethyst picked up a very dry stick and tossed it into the room. Not much happened, a few fitful arcs along its lengths and it finally, reluctantly, started smoldering.

“Right, that’s that then. We’ve got to figure out what this pattern means and how to get through without triggering it, and if we do we’ll get fried. Unless we ride back to the market and see if anybody’s got Faraday suits for sale.”

“I don’t know much about wires,” KitKat said. “Or electricity except in the form of lightning bolts and various magical spells sorcerers and such can cast. And the kind you get when you rub a cat on a balloon.”

“I know if you’re insulated from it you can be safe, but you’ve got to be careful. We could try and lay down something non-conductive on the floor and just walk across it, but we have to be careful that the electricity doesn’t arc to our weapons.”

“At least I’m wearing hide armor,” KitKat remarked. “That’s not very conductive. I think.”

“Weird how bare skin is but after it’s been dried and cured it isn’t any more.”

KitKat grabbed one of her spare belt daggers, one that she’d picked up off a dead yale some missions back, and chucked it into the room. A second later the entire room lit up in a bright flash, and the flashing continued until the dagger had finally melted to nothing.

“If they get many adventurers, their electric bill must be insane,” Sparkler remarked. “Did you notice how it took a second before the arcing started?”

“Yeah.”

“I have an idea. We’ll just—”

Are you looking for love in REDACTED DUE TO BEING A SONG LYRIC? Do you long for something more substantial twixt your nethers than a motorcycle? Or are you a busy mare who fritters away her days adventuring and not seeking a mate to settle down with?

Are you tired of the same dating apps, of swiping right, or of scammy ads like this one promising to find you the love of your life for a low low fee? Are you tired of waiting in a seedy bar for your Prince Charming to arrive, shotgunning Malorts like it’s going out of style?

Do you get bored with the same stallion or mare after a few rolls in the hay and long for something different? Do you have some weird kink or fetish?

Of course you do. We all do. Especially you right there—don’t turn away, I see you. Don’t worry, we don’t judge what two (or more) consenting adults do in the privacy of their own home or in the shadows of the fountain two blocks from the palace in Canterlot at two-fourteen AM last night when they think nopony is watching.

Have you considered a changeling? They’ll only suck a little bit of your love and a lot of your—the point is that they can be whatever you want them to be†, and if you want to try something different, they can be that, too.

Download our exclusive “Plenty of Changelings” app for a quick fuck or a steady relationship that can withstand the vicissitudes of time.

†Changelings cannot transform into yaks, nor should they be asked to do so.

KitKat sent not-Epona off around the labyrinth (or back to not-Lon Lon Ranch; she actually wasn’t sure where the horse would go. Or for that matter, where it had come from) and swung her leg across the seat of the motorcycle.

It took a moment for the two to settle in to a comfortable position. KitKat accidentally sat on Amethyst’s tail and got her axe handle stuck on the sissy bars. She shifted her weight, pulled Amethyst’s tail out from under her rump, rearranged her axe, and then slid forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Amethyst’s waist.

Amethyst not only had the problem of her tail being sat on, but then there was the hot harridan who pressed up against her back, awaking unexpected feelings, such as the fact that the armor was warmer than she’d anticipated it would be.

In hindsight, it made sense that it would be; it had been sun-warmed on the outside for most of the day (except when they were in the Forest of Forgotten Files) and body-temp warmed on the inside from KitKat all day (even in they were in the Forest of Forgotten Files).

“You ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s do this.” Amethyst revved the throttle on the motorcycle to make sure that the engine was running well, and then dumped the clutch, gripping the handlebars tight as the rear wheel bit into the gravel.

She felt KitKat’s arms tighten around her waist and the two of them bent over into the slipstream as the motorcycle accelerated.

It crossed the threshold into the labyrinth at sixty miles an hour (about 100km/hour [about 52 knots]) and roared across the arcane symbols on the floor faster than they could even react to all being lit up simultaneously.

Part of their plan depended on the exit door being weak enough that it couldn’t withstand a motorcycle with two mares on it, traveling at speed. They had no way to test that, short of trying it.

•••

The door was not strong enough to withstand the collision. It tore off its hinges, briefly hung up on the front of the motorcycle, and then flew into flinders. Just then, the entire room lit up in the brightest electrical flash yet as every single wrong panel’s delay timer triggered simultaneously.

In hindsight, it might have been wiser to have the armored one in front, but KitKat didn’t know how to drive a motorcycle.

Also, Amethyst might not have had the reflexes to grab her cowboy hat out of the air as they cleared the doorframe, but KitKat did, and she placed the hat back on Amethyst’s head right before they rode down a flight of stairs, through a kitchen, and finally came to a stop right inside the service entrance.

The two mares looked back at the lightshow behind them, still going on even though they’d long since departed. If the room had any sort of sentience (and it might have) it was obviously angry at having been foiled by two mares on a motorcycle.*** In retaliation, it chucked the entire contents of its knife block at them, which they dodged.****

Amethyst shut off the engine and the two of them unstraddled the motorcycle, giving them an opportunity to breathe and also giving KitKat an opportunity to pull a vicious splinter out of Amethyst’s shoulder and bandage it. Not wearing clothes was cool, but riding a motorcycle with no protective gear was uncool. Amethyst had seen the offer of riding leathers and a helmet as an unnecessary upsale by Crazy Eddie, although in hindsight he was looking out for her best interests.

His, as well; she could hardly buy another conveyance from him if the first one killed her.

Once Sparkler was bandaged, KitKat whistled for her horse, but that accomplished nothing. Then she got out her ocarina and played a little tune, and all of a sudden the horse came around the corner of the building with a cheerful whinny.

Behind them, the motorcycle fell apart. Harley’s build quality isn’t what it was.

Author's Note

*She did know who David Bowie was
**The makers of the trap had gotten fined by OSHA and had been required to put up the sign. They were counting on adventurers simply disregarding the sign and going to their doom.
***And highly-conductive one
****The kitchen was upset as well, but really had no way of showing its anger.