Chapters “So what’s this place called again?”
Twilight paused midstep before, with a little shake of her head, she carried on down the busy, cobbled street. “The Rat’s Jacket,” she said, speaking loudly to be heard over the noise.
Rainbow caught up from where she’d been lagging to tuck herself in close to Twilight. “Is that a good sign, or a bad one? ‘Cause rats and kitchens seem a bad mix.”
Twilight shrugged. “Squirrel said it looked alright, and as she’s heading back home in a couple days I figured we can’t really say no.” They’d been back in Hurricanum for only a few days now, and as none of them felt like cooking after the last couple of weeks, they’d been eating out most of the time.
“Even if she’s choosing rats?”
“I don’t think they’re actually selling rats there, Dash.”
“Makes sense, I suppose,” Rainbow nodded sagely. “Mice would be cheaper.”
Twilight gave her a flick of her tail as they turned off the bustling thoroughfare and down a much quieter alley, its looming walls and rooftops drowning out the noise of the street. “It’s somewhere down here,” she said, glancing at the many shops in passing – some selling curios or tools, while others merely bistros like the one they were looking for. “Near the base of one of the wire-towers.”
Rainbow frowned at the mention of one of the ghastly things, but bit her tongue. Trying to land in the shadow of one of them must’ve been quite unnerving, Twilight thought.
They reached a cramped intersection and hung a left, passing back out into sunlight, its warmth pleasant on their bare fur. “We still got that meeting with what’s-his-name tomorrow?” Rainbow asked.
“Mmhmm,” Twilight nodded. “Just need to finalize a couple of things before we head out ourselves.” With how long the trip back to Equus would take, the sooner they left the better. As much as she was loathe to admit it, the trip had left her feeling oddly... refreshed – but she was more than eager to get back to her work. She hadn’t been able to learn anything of any direct value while here, of course, but it wasn’t as though the Everfree was going to solve itself, and the time away had done wonders for her thoughts.
They carried on quietly as they veered down a steep, switchbacking staircase, the stone slightly slick in the cool shade. Not a minute later they exited back out onto a narrow street, the dusty cobbles cast in vibrant hues from the endless line of fabrics and sheets hanging from cables and posts all around. “Some sort of dyers’ quarter?” Twilight wondered, her muzzle wrinkling from the faint but acrid scents in the air.
“Looked colourful from above, but I didn’t exactly come in for a close look,” Rainbow grumbled.
They took their time going down the street, admiring their surroundings as they went, as there was more than just raw, dyed cloth here, but many finely worked rugs further along.
Still, it wasn’t long before they’d left the quarter behind. A couple of turns later Rainbow gave Twilight a quick poke with her wing. “Look.”
Ahead of them, swaying gently in the growing breeze and set above a little shop’s doorway, was a wooden sign. Painted in colourful strokes upon it was a cheerful, grey mouse in a dapper jacket. “Well, it doesn’t look so bad,” Twilight said, as she led the way to the door.
“Could be a disguise,” Rainbow insisted. “To get our guard down, then BAM! Rats in the pie.”
Twilight snorted.
The restaurant was tiny – just a single room a half-dozen lengths wide and maybe three or four times that long. At the table nearest the door, seated and waiting for them, was Squirrel.
“Hello you two,” the mare said, smiling as she gestured to the poufs. “Thought you’d be a while yet.”
Twilight took another look around the place as she took her seat. “Didn’t have much else on our plate, today. Cozy looking place, this.”
Rainbow nodded along. “You can hardly even hear the squeaking.”
Squirrel gave her an odd look. “Yeees? I had a quick lunch here a couple days ago – it was nice, and what with it being so close to the inn, it seemed a good place to meet up.”
“Yep,” Twilight agreed. Although they were staying at the same inn – courtesy of the diplomatic corps – they hadn’t been seeing much of each other during the day. “Did you manage to find anything decent?”
Squirrel shrugged. “Lots of nice souvenirs around, but they’ve been either too big or too expensive.”
Twilight hummed and shook her head. “I’m sure you’ll find something good before you leave.”
“I hope so – I’d hate to have to admit that Rainbow had it right about taking something from the mines.”
“Don’t remind me,” Rainbow grunted. “Should’ve taken one of those soulgems when we had the chance.”
“No kidding.”
They fell to companionable silence as they ordered some drinks and salads, content to merely lounge about while they ate.
“So!” Squirrel said as they finished eating. “You two find anything useful? For when you’re back home?”
“I’ve a few ideas,” Twilight said. “Nothing solid, though. I was really hoping to find something to act as an anchor or taming agent here – I’ve finally gotten access to the polis libraries! The good, private ones! But: nothing.” She rolled her shoulders, fuming quietly at the memory of so many tens of hours spent pouring over texts in vain. “The only positive is that I’m confident now that the Everfree’s some sort of shattered leyline – some of the books referenced something similar happening centuries back in Calendar.”
“There’s more than a few stories about that, actually,” Squirrel said with a smile. “Epic adventures as the heroes tried to tame the wild magic. Doubt any of it’s of any use to you, though.”
Twilight grunted. “Mmhmm. Doesn’t do much good when they don’t explain how they managed it, now does it?”
“Could go there?” Rainbow chimed in, looking suddenly far more interested than she’d been since they sat down. “To Calendar? And ask around?”
“We’re supposed to be going home in a few days, Dash, and it’s not like we can just get in an airship and fly there overnight.” Twilight let out a noisy sigh. “Even if they’d let us take out another – which they won’t – I reeeally wouldn’t trust it to keep us up.”
“Doesn’t help that you gave all the money back, either,” Rainbow pouted. “Can’t even rent one.”
“They wouldn’t charter to us anyways.”
The trio fell back to silence as they paid and left. They’d meandered a good ways back to their inn before Rainbow spoke. “Hey – you’ve been to Calendar, right? ‘Cause I totally remember you saying something like that.”
“Yep,” Squirrel nodded. “Saw the sights while I was between convoys once, years back. Didn’t see anything that’d fix broken leylines, though.”
“The spellwork’s not really the problem here,” Twilight said, staring down at the cobbles as they walked. “Or the power. And it’s a grand leyline, technically – a crossing of two leys,” she added for Squirrel’s benefit. “Something’s caused it to... I don’t know, unravel? Unfix itself? Whatever it was, it happened centuries back.” She huffed noisily, frustrated that she was never able to get close enough to the centre to find out for certain. “It’s an anchor I was hoping to find – some manner of ward I could tie it down to. I’m pretty sure there’s something else going on there as well, but for the life of me I can’t figure it out.”
“Sounds... complicated?” Squirrel snorted at her own ineloquence. “This all seems well out of my depth.”
“It’s alright,” Twilight said, sounding now more melancholic than annoyed. “It’s just that with our time here almost up, the fact that I haven’t found anything to help is weighing on me.”
“Maybe something’ll come up,” Squirrel shrugged. “You never know.”
The end of another day had come, leaving Twilight feeling just as drained as every other she’d spent in the polis. She had ended up heading back to the stacks for another pass, skimming through books and scrolls alike, but without any luck; she knew she was fixating on this, no nevermind that the whole point of Cadance sending her here in the first place was to get her mind off things, but she couldn’t get herself to pass up on the opportunity to find something of value.
She entered their room and collapsed on her bed, wriggling around in frustration. “No luck?” Rainbow asked, glancing up from her gear.
“Mmff,” Twilight groaned as she rolled over and saw Rainbow rooting around her stuff. “What’re you up to?”
“Oh!” Rainbow looked mildly alarmed. “Just, umm... packing?”
“‘Packing’?” Twilight said skeptically. She sat up to get a better look. “Are those oat bars? And faery shards? Dash...” She leveled a soft glare at the pegasus. “We’re not going to Calendar.”
Rainbow bore a hunted look. “I don’t know what you mean! This is just, uhh, just in case.”
“Just in case of...?”
“Our ship going down! Yeah! That’s it.” Rainbow gave a satisfied nod. “In case our ship goes down on the way home.”
“Uh huh.” Twilight narrowed her eyes.
“Well, I mean it’s already happened once, right? So it’s definitely going to happen again. Probably. Although...” she trailed off with a hopeful look. “Now that you mention it, we could always hang around a bit longer? Have that sightseeing trip we wanted to do?”
Twilight huffed and settled back into the blankets. “We already did that.”
“Ship went down – doesn’t count.”
Twilight groaned when she realized it kind of didn’t. “We can’t exactly stay here forever, Dash – we have to go home sometime.”
“Well, yeah – I know that,” Rainbow shrugged, kneading the ground uncomfortably. “But we’re here now, aren’t we? And I know the embassy people will still foot the bill for a while yet. And don’t you want to see Drizzle? It’s big! And underground! And probably has treasure!”
“You could say that about every city if you wanted to,” Twilight insisted. “Or something similar, at least. Simply getting back home will be a journey in itself.”
“But, Twiii!”
“Ugh.” Twilight flinched away. “Not the puppy-dog eyes! We just got back to civilization, Dash!”
“But Twiiiiii,” Rainbow wheedled. “Gnolls and treasure and stuff!”
Twilight couldn’t help but feel annoyed at just how weak she was to whining. “I don’t even know how we’d get there,” she sighed. “Fiiine. But if we’re going to Drizzle, then we’re hitting up Calendar, too! Might as well see what we can there.” She knew she’d given in awfully quick, but as she still hadn’t found anything to help with the Everfree, a good part of her didn’t want to leave, either.
“Alriiight!” Rainbow beamed. “So how’re we getting there, then?”
Twilight facehoofed. “You didn’t even plan that much?”
“Nah – I’m awful at that kinda stuff,” Rainbow shrugged, not looking at all abashed. “Could ask Squirrel? Oo! Could go with Squirrel!”
“Oh! Right,” Twilight said, perking back up. “She’s heading back home anyways – we could escort her?” Now that she’d relented, she was feeling rather excited about it all.
“Exactly! On the plus side, we’ll have a guide. On the flip side: it’s Squirrel.”
Twilight snorted. “We’ll be sure to avoid any swamps, then. Let’s go find her.”
Rainbow followed close behind as they exited their room and made their way down the long hall, lit at this hour by a line of dull, orange shards. “Think she’s still up?”
“Mmhmm – it’s only an hour past supper.”
They carried on around the bend, the moon just visible through the skylights above. Rainbow hadn’t expected it to be quite as easy as it was to convince Twilight for the extra trip – maybe she really did want to do it all along? She knew that Twi could be oddly stubborn about these things sometimes.
They had more than enough time to get home, anyways – no one was expecting them back anytime soon, and it wasn’t as though they weren’t getting paid.
Having reached the right room, Twilight gave a polite knock at the door. “Hey Squirrel,” she said through the wood. “You have a moment?”
“And that’s the plan,” Rainbow said, having taken point.
“Seriously?” Squirrel said, amusement clear in her voice. “I thought you were both eager to get back to Equus.”
“Meh.”
“What Rainbow means is, there’s no actual rush to get back,” Twilight said from where she’d been pacing by the window. “An extra week or so isn’t really adding all that much.”
“And I imagine your sudden willingness to visit Calendar is just a coincidence?”
Twilight snorted. “Hardly.”
“Well, whatever your motivations, I’m glad you’ve chosen me as your guide,” Squirrel said, puffing herself up.
“Uhh... no offense Squirrel, but I think I’ll plan this one out,” Twilight said hesitantly, staring fixedly at the rug. “To, umm... give your skills a rest?”
“Definitely,” Rainbow quickly agreed. “You’re all planned out – let Sparkle handle this one.”
Squirrel deflated like a limp balloon. “Oh goody.”
Rainbow gave her a comforting pat. “Hey, cheer up! Think of it as free lessons on how not to get horribly lost all the time.”
“When you put it that way, I feel so much better.”
“Good! So how we doing this?”
“Convoys?” Twilight half-asked as she ceased her pacing. “What schedule do they run?”
Squirrel hopped up onto the bed, curling up near the pillows before she answered. “A fairly loose one. They always go along the same paths and in the same directions, but you’ve kind of got to get to one of their stops a couple days early – just in case.”
“And if we miss one?”
Squirrel shrugged. “Anywhere from a week to a month, really, this far from the coast.”
Twilight grunted as she resumed pacing. “We’ll have to plan this carefully, then.”
“Well, the one I was going to take home – we’ll be taking that one, I presume? – would take us through Beech and Drizzle along its way. Should be hitting up Calendar after that, but I didn’t check.”
“Might make getting us back here at the end of it difficult,” Twilight muttered. “Any barges or caravans we could take if needed?”
“Barges, maybe, but there aren’t any caravans around these parts.”
Twilight hummed and nodded.
“Are there even any roads around here?” Rainbow chimed in. “‘Cause now that I think of it, I don’t think we ever passed over any on the way here.”
“With how big and consistent the trade convoys are, anybody who could afford to construct an actual road network just uses airships or the rivers instead. Plenty of roads in the west, mind,” Squirrel added.
“Weird.”
“Intercity roadways would be a great deal more difficult to finance and maintain here than back home, Dash,” Twilight chided. “These are poleis, remember – most of these cities are effectively their own countries.”
Rainbow shrugged. “Still weird.”
“In any event, we have a course.” Twilight paused to lift open the window and stick her head out for a few moments. “Past twilight, now,” she said once she’d closed the window again. “There’s a night market, but we’re probably best waiting until tomorrow to stock up.”
“No kidding,” Rainbow said, feeling more than a little beat from the day. “Shouldn’t be much to pick up, anyways; plus, this convoy comes in when, exactly? Day after tomorrow?”
“Around noon, yeah,” Squirrel said, looking far more cheerful than she’d been since they’d arrived. “They’ll hang around for hours, mind – lots of cargo to transfer, if nothing else.”
“Alriiight!” Rainbow said, giving her tail a happy flick. “Vacation time!”
A damp fog had cropped up the next day, flowing slowly off the lake in dense waves. Being this high up, the hill Twilight was on was well out of it, though it made for quite the sight when looking back. “Like an island in the clouds,” she mumbled, turning back to her climb.
She was alone this morning, the other two having gone out together to gather supplies and learn more about the convoy’s route; it was up to Twilight, then, to notify the embassy. She didn’t anticipate any problems, but she couldn’t help but feel nervous – she knew they weren’t actually expected to perform any official diplomatic duties while they were here in Avalon, but as they were essentially just vacationing on the corps’ budget, it felt a touch awkward to be heading out again, and so soon, too.
“Perhaps I can convince them they owe me for recovering the banknotes from the last ship?” Twilight continued to herself as she approached the tall, stony embassy, its ruddy brickwork covered in ivy. She let out a deep breath. “Welp, here goes nothing.”
Rainbow fluffed out her wings irritably; she and Squirrel were circling around to the dockside markets, passing through the fog as they did. She couldn’t wait until it burnt off – moving through the stuff always felt so strange, like she was pushing her way through one unending length of gauze.
“Does it really bother you this much?” Squirrel asked, having been shooting glances at Rainbow since they’d first entered. “Weathermare and all?”
“It’s fine, normally,” Rainbow groused. “When I’m flying through it, I mean – it’s even kinda fun, ‘cause if you angle yourself just right you sorta bounce off it like water, ya know? But walking through it? Bleh.”
“It is rather dense,” Squirrel agreed. “Atmospheric though.”
“I guess...”
They continued to weave their way through the early morning crowds, the sounds of gulls and stevedores ringing out all around. Looming like dark shadows in the fog were the many tall warehouses and workshops that littered the shore, itself dotted by countless piers and a single large marina, protected from the rough waters of Chestnut lake by a long arm of stone and rubble built out into the water.
The silhouettes of great ships, swaying in the choppy waters, were just visible far off to the side. “Never been on one of those,” Rainbow said, jerking a wing towards the moored vessels – hopefully some chatter would help distract her. “The flying ones, sure, and a few dinghies, but nothing big like that.”
Squirrel looked at her in surprise. “You two took an airship all the way across the Calise? Shoot! I didn’t know any were crossing it yet.”
“Just a few,” Rainbow shrugged. “Would’ve been cooler to take a boat, but Twilight was being stubborn – I think she thought if she put up enough of a fuss about going, Cadance would let her off the hook.”
“And now here she is, trying to stay even longer,” Squirrel smiled. “Avalon grew on her.”
“Nah – home’s way better than this,” Rainbow chuckled. “I mean, Avalon’s all neat and all, but, umm... yeah.”
“Fair enough, I guess,” Squirrel sighed. “You’ve got family and stuff at home, after all.”
“Yep!”
The markets were clustered at the far end of the pier, raised up above the surrounding area while still low enough to hear the slapping of waves upon the piles below. Despite the early hour, it was bustling. “Keep close!” Squirrel called out, the two them momentarily separated by a line of loaded delivery carts.
“It’s fine!” Rainbow shouted back. “I know what we need, and if we get split up we’ll just meet back up at the inn!”
Squirrel quickly crossed the aisle to rejoin her. “Sure, but it’ll be silly if we just end up buying the same things, so stay close.”
Rainbow shrugged, but seemed to see enough sense not to argue.
The air stunk of fish as they wove through the haphazardous arrangement of stalls, some colourfully set with fruits and vegetables just brought in from the many orchards and fields ringing the lake, while others still were piled high with ice-packed oysters, clams, and more besides. As much as Squirrel wanted to grab a few choice picks of this and that for a group supper later on, priority was on grabbing some new gear first.
It wasn’t long before the salty tang in the air mixed with the bitter smells of lingering dyes and oils. “We’ll need something thick,” Squirrel began, her gazed darting about between the many established shops. “But not too thick – it gets cold up there, but we’ll still need to be able move about easily.”
“Speak for yourself,” Rainbow said, puffing out her chest. “I’ll keep to something light; Twi’ll need something good, though.”
“Definitely,” Squirrel agreed – the memory of the little unicorn shivering in the mines kept coming to mind. “Might find something here.” They’d stopped outside a shop stuffed full of boots and gloves, with nearly every part of every shelf covered in wares.
“In we go, then,” she continued. They wandered around a bit lost at first, passing by shelves of clothes clearly meant for gnolls or gryphons, and even past a table laden with thin, high-buckled boots just for deer, before they found what they were looking for.
“Bit expensive,” Rainbow muttered to herself as she looked over the pony-makes. “At least, I think. These expensive, Squirrel?”
Squirrel set down a fluffy set of boots she’d been examining. “For their quality? No. Besides, aren’t you two on your country’s budget?”
“Still don’t want to get ripped off,” Rainbow said; nonetheless she showed renewed interest in the boots. “Alright, let’s get this done – still need some new jackets after this.”
It’d taken far longer than Squirrel had hoped to get out of there. Aside from Rainbow taking her time – she’d proven surprisingly picky – they’d then needed to sort something out for Twilight; luckily, Rainbow had gotten her sizes before they’d left.
“Think she’ll like them?” Rainbow asked, the tips of Twilight’s new boots poking out of her panniers.
“Can’t see why she wouldn’t,” Squirrel said, pausing on occasion to wiggle her legs and test her own ones’ fit. “She doesn’t seem the type to be much fussed about clothing, anyways.”
“Yeah – she really isn’t, is she.”
Their hoofsteps echoed far more dully off the planks than it had before when their hooves were bared. Squirrel had never cared for the feel of steel horseshoes, and it’d seemed that the other two shared her tastes; unfortunately, the unexpected roughness of the past few weeks had chipped and worn away so much of their hooves that full knee-boots were pretty much their only recourse.
It was a bit of a pinch to her own budget, mind, but as she’d saved a decent deal portaging down to Hurricanum instead of sailing, she had plenty to spend.
“Here we are!” Rainbow said, interrupting her thoughts. Squirrel looked up just in time to see the tip of her rainbow tail disappearing amongst a wall of coatracks. Looking forward to replacing the now abominably-ratty coat of hers with something nicer, she followed her in.
Twilight stepped wearily up the stairs to the inn’s second floor, the late-afternoon light bleeding in through the skylights above. Talking to the corps had taken far more time than she’d anticipated; plus, she couldn’t resist taking another peek at the stacks one last time before she left.
She muzzled open the door to her room to find the other two already inside and chatting. “Hey Twi!” Rainbow called out as she picked up and waved around the scruff of a thick cotton jacket.
Doffing her panniers, Twilight went to join them. “Good! You look like you found something decent.”
“Yep! That one’s yours,” Rainbow continued, getting up to rummage around behind her. “Got some knee-boots here, too.”
Twilight picked up the jacket and tried it on. She was pleasantly surprised to find it fit almost perfectly, with the back running all the way to her dock and the fluffy collar snugged right up around her neck; with the included hoodie she wouldn’t even need a scarf.
“It looks great,” Twilight said, eying the boots next; from the looks of it, they’d gotten something similar between the three of them. “No new hat?” she asked Squirrel. Since reaching the city they’d more-or-less thrown away all their clothes, so heavily torn and fouled they’d become.
“Nah,” Squirrel shrugged. “Didn’t see anything decent. It was more for the looks, anyways.”
“Fair enough,” Twilight nodded – it wasn’t as though it were winter, after all. “All we need now is some travelling food.”
“Which we can get tomorrow,” Rainbow said as she hopped up onto the bed. “We’ll have all day. Embassy go alright?”
Twilight huffed. “Lots of eyerolling, but they couldn’t exactly say ‘no,’ now could they? I did have to give them a rather vague date-of-return, though – we haven’t plotted things out well enough to say more than ‘a couple weeks at most.’”
“That’s probably about right,” Squirrel said. “Bit of room for error, really.”
“Mmhmm. Now, that said we do need to plan things out – at least a little.” Twilight started shuffling around for her new mapbooks, flipping the sturdy canvas-bound thing open once she did. “I’ve some nice detailed ones here.”
“No more backwater maps, eh?” Squirrel said as she sat down next to Twilight to better see them herself.
“Nope!” None of the maps were city-scale – bar the one for Hurricanum – but she was hoping to pick some up along the way; nevertheless, the ones she had should be more than adequate for their trip. “So, let’s see here... the convoy we’re taking will pass through Wanderbelle, I imagine?”
“Yep. It’ll pass over Beech on the way to Drizzle, then off home. It’ll almost certainly stop at a couple of other little places along the way, too – or at least some of the ships will, and we should be able to barter passage down with one of them if we want.”
“Not as predictable as I’d’ve liked,” Twilight grumbled. “But I suppose it’ll have to do.”
Rainbow bounced across the bed to join them. “We walked it all once – we can do it again. I’m way more interested in the underground one.”
“Well, we’ll have time there,” Squirrel pointed out. “Trade ships are always going in and out of Drizzle – a lot of the finer mechanisms for ships are made in the city.”
“They make airships there too?” Rainbow asked, looking interested.
“Nah – most of what they make makes its way up to Snowbound for the rest of the work.”
“Well that’s boring,” Rainbow pouted. “I thought there was supposed to be big gem mines and stuff there.”
“Oh, well, there’s that too,” Squirrel conceded. “Airships are way cooler, though.”
Rainbow just flexed her wings in response.
Twilight continued, hoping to get the conversation back on track. “Wanderbelle shouldn’t take too long to get to after that. And you say it hits Calendar next?”
“Yep – we double-checked earlier,” Squirrel said, nodding her head towards Rainbow. “It’ll hit up Fluff and Eyr along the way; after that it’ll break up, but some good part of it should head back through Beech and here again.”
“Basic as courses go, but I can work with this,” Twilight said, quietly pleased that she was feeling alright with the possibility they’d be winging it. “We’ll want to get up early tomorrow.”
“Hold on – what?” Rainbow gave her a shocked look. “But the ships won’t even be here til noon!”
“Well, yeees,” Twilight conceded. “But we wouldn’t want to risk oversleeping and missing it.”
“Nuh uh – we’re sleeping in, Twi.”
In so far as Twilight was concerned, sleeping in was just begging for disaster. Still, though... “Up an hour after sunrise, then?”
Rainbow gave her a poke. “Til nine – at least.”
“... eight?”
Another poke. “Eight-thirty.”
Twilight sighed. “Fiiine – we’ll sleep in.”
The sun finally broke through the clouds as they ascended one of the many long, winding staircases up to the airdocks. Although it was still an hour before noon, even now the convoy’s vanguard had begun trickling in – little thirty- or forty-footers, their sails or balloons casting long shadows on the ground.
“We took something like that on the way here,” Twilight said, nodding up towards one of the dirigibles, its open-air platform – looking so much like a ship out of water – dangling on thick cables just below the oiled canvas. “It was a lot longer than that, though, and looked like four of them bolted and planked together.”
“Rainbow’d mentioned,” Squirrel said, momentarily looking up at the ship as they wove their way through the crowds. “The kind of thing we’ll be taking will probably look like that, too.”
“These are private ones then, I’d imagine? Tagging along for safety?”
“Yeah – you really don’t want to risk having ship failure when you’re way out in the middle of nowhere, all alone.”
“You don’t say.”
Squirrel snorted, swatting her with her tail. “Things’ll be fine this time; these big ones fail safe, anyways, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Except falling off,” Rainbow chimed in.
“Yes, thank you, Dash.” Twilight wasn’t actually worried – rescue aside, one of the first spells she’d learnt weeks ago once she’d realized that no amount of grumbling was going to get her out of this whole venture was featherfall.
They were climbing one of the auxillary stairwells – little more than a steep, switchbacking route jammed between the open scaffolds – when a dull, heavy thump rumbled through the beams. “Reassuring,” Twilight muttered, looking up and out at the sharp-edged bilge keel of a trisail that had just roughly docked, its eponymous twin finsails rocking back and forth as they furled.
“It hasn’t fallen over yet,” Squirrel shrugged. “Let’s just hurry up and get topside – we’ll still need to convince one of them to ferry us up.” Apparently this was pretty normal, as the biggest ships would only bother to dock if they had cargo to move; the problem here, though, was that the crew often didn’t want to deal with travellers when they were busy. Ferrying up before or after was thus generally preferred if you wanted to stay on good terms with the crew.
“It should be quite interesting seeing the internals of one of these major ones,” Twilight said, a mite breathless from the climb. “The small dirigible we went down on was surprisingly different than the ones back home.”
“Really?” Squirrel asked, shooting an interested glance back over her withers. “Was it just a layout thing, or were the parts entirely different?”
“Layout, mostly, but a lot of the rigging was set up differently, and I’m pretty sure the balloon’s gyros were unique, too.”
“Might be they had the new ones up there? I know a lot of overhauls changed to a newer design not too many years back.”
“Maybe...”
Twilight’s eagerness to – hopefully – get a chance to examine the ships’ inner workings hadn’t abated in the slightest when they finally reached the top and stepped out onto a narrow platform. Mooring posts and lines as thick around as her hoof lay all about the place, not least upon a pair of ships hovered gently in their berths. There were few people around.
“Time to start knocking on hulls,” Squirrel said, approaching the first of the two. “If these don’t work, we’ve still the other platforms; we’ll find something.”
Twilight did her best to squelch any trepidation at begging favours from strangers as Squirrel nimbly leapt onto the nearest deck and started poking her head around.
Conveniently doubting she needed any help, Twilight wandered to the pier’s edge and gazed northwards over the city.
“We paddled in on that one, right?” Rainbow said, following her over. “The bigger river between those cliffs?”
“You can’t possibly not know that, Dash,” Twilight chided. “You fly around here every day.”
Rainbow shrugged. “Just a conversation starter. Weird we’re leaving again, huh? Didn’t think we’d actually do it.”
“I didn’t think I’d be doing a lot of things here. It’s kind of fun though, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. It’s just for a couple weeks too, and we’ll get a chance to see some cool places! Hopefully, at least.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Might even find something for your projects as well.”
Twilight smiled and gave her a shoulder bump. “I don’t need to be convinced, you know.”
“I know,” Rainbow smiled and bumped her back.
They stared out quietly at the horizon for the few moments it took Squirrel to thump back down onto the pier. “These guys are staying in the city, so we’ll have to find something else. Come on,” Squirrel said, nodding her head towards the next ship.
As Twilight joined her, she found herself quietly pleased that they’d shown up so early – it looked like this might end up taking a while, after all.
Rainbow was grumpy.
“I’m sure it’s just because things are too cramped down below,” Twilight tried to soothe her. “That’s all.”
“Grmbleflf,” Rainbow grumbled. While they’d finally found themselves a ship to take them up – a small, worryingly-rusty dirigible – the sailors had insisted they keep themselves on deck. “It’s not like we were going to go down there anyways, but, like, they didn’t have to just banish us to the top without even asking!”
“Well, the trade ships can’t exactly do the same to us, can they? So we’ll be fine once we get properly aboard.” They were talking near the prow, waiting for the sailors – a pair of earth ponies – to sort out a few things before leaving. Rainbow had wanted to take a fly around and simply land on the deck after they’d taken off, but the sailors had once again insisted otherwise, apparently dead-certain she’d tangle herself up in the rigging if she did.
“They’d better,” Rainbow groused, crossing her arms all the tighter.
There was shouting behind her as one of the stallions hollered out to them. “You two all ready!”
“We are!” Twilight called back to him. “Squirrel!”
Squirrel just smiled and waved back to her from the stern; despite sitting in the cockpit, she wasn’t allowed to help, either.
It wasn’t long before they’d unmoored and started drifting slowly back, the bilge-propellers humming below. Once they’d gone far enough a dull roar heralded the spooling up of the two main props jutting out either side from their mounts on stubby wings. Undoubtedly, the steering sails were unfurling beneath them, but Rainbow still didn’t feel like cheering up enough to follow Twilight and watch them.
They continued to move away from the dense network of scaffolding and countless docked ships and towards the convoy proper, now easily visible just north of the city.
Rainbow could pick out more than a dozen cargo ships with a host of different designs, from extensive dirigibles to multi-masted trisails, and even a couple that looked like little more than great, multi-platformed spires running down from massive spheres, their levels dotted with wings and sails. They looked ridiculous to Rainbow, but apparently they were fantastic in rough weather with heavy cargo.
With a huff she lurched upright and headed abaft, looking to join the others. Taking care not to bump into any of the cargo littering the deck – maybe they really were just crowded below? – she stepped down into the cockpit. “Yo,” she said, aiming for the small table and benches clustered around the companionway. Plopping down next to Squirrel, she turned to stare idly at the stallion manning the wheel. “Anything happen?”
“Nah,” Squirrel said, wiggling as she tried to get comfortable on the hard teak. “Should be smooth sailing from here.”
“It’s not really sailing without sails, is it? The steering ones don’t count.”
Squirrel rolled her eyes. “Smooth floating-with-propellers, then.”
“Much better.”
A breeze kicked up around them as they picked up speed and angled somewhat upwind of the convoy. They were apparently bound for one of the more traditional-looking ones, it being made up of a simple series of platforms beneath a quartet of long balloons. If it flew anything like how it looked, Rainbow figured they’d be in for a slow ride.
“How far is it to Drizzle, anyways?” Rainbow asked, having already forgotten what little she’d listened to of Twilight’s plans.
“In distance?” Twilight answered. “About four-hundred kilometres, I think. Timewise, though, we should be there sometime tomorrow morning.”
“They’ll time it so we do,” Squirrel added, having given up her search for a comfy spot to simply lay across her side of the bench instead. “Big ships like the one we’re heading for rarely try and offload in the night – we’ll probably end up heaving-to somewhere close by til daybreak.”
“Spending a whole day on one of these things is gonna suck.”
“There’ll be a galley,” Squirrel assured her. “We can play cards and such with the crew and any other travellers onboard.”
“Fun.”
Squirrel huffed. “Now you’re just being difficult.”
Rainbow grunted in response – she wasn’t looking forward to this.
There was a solid thunk as the gangway slapped down against the ship’s gunwales. They’d arrived at the cargo vessel, its series of platforms descending a few stories down from the balloons. The main entry point was near the bottom, on a platform that jutted out and away from the main body like a lone pier running aft; the long wooden walkway was supported by cables that ran up to the rigging above, while it was another much shorter gangway that connected to their ship.
“Are we sure this is even safe?” Twilight said, looking askance at the contraption. Every little bit of turbulence caused the pier to judder up and down, the guywires snapping between taut and slack. “How’s this thing not shaken itself apart?”
“Boundless optimism,” the sailor behind her grinned. “Now off ya go – we’ve places to be.”
Twilight took a deep breath and gave Squirrel a nudge. “Just don’t look down, I suppose?”
Squirrel gave her a tight look. “Yep. Always hate this part.” Without another word she leapt up onto the gangway and quickly crossed to the main pier, head held high as she kept her gaze locked on the cabins beyond.
Rainbow gave her a nudge of her own as Twilight found herself hesitating; she cautiously stepped up onto the gangway, muttering to herself all the way. “A quick featherfall and I’d be fine,” she mumbled conversationally, squinting at the far end as she took one slow step after another. The bridge shook beneath her. “One quick spell.”
After what seemed like ages she stepped off the narrow planking and onto the pier, only to find it was little better as the whole thing seemed continually to jump and jitter underhoof. Rigging slapped and jingled around her as the growing breeze made a sharp whining sound as it ran through the cables.
“This is terrible!” Rainbow called over the wind, her grin belying her words. “The stuff back home is waaay better!”
“Maybe I should’ve enchanted something back in the city?” Twilight continued her muttering unabated. “For Squirrel too?”
“What!” Rainbow shouted back, unable to hear her. “Let’s get inside!” She jabbed a wing towards where Squirrel was waiting for them beside a closed door.
Once they’d reached her, Squirrel slid open the door and disappeared into the cabin. Following close, Twilight stepped in – Rainbow slipping past her – and hurriedly closed the door behind. The noise was immediately muffled. “Muuuch better,” she sighed.
Turning around, Twilight found herself in a wide office of sorts. Windows – their panes giving an omnipresent rattle – lined every wall, giving a fantastic view in all directions. There were scattered tables and chairs, shelves and cabinets, all jammed together with little room to manoeuvre.
Squirrel was at one of the nearby desks, chatting to a lanky, olive-green colt. “There you are,” Squirrel said, catching sight of her. “Just have to pay the fee and find out what nook we’re bunking in.” The fee was modest – just enough to justify the nuisance of having non-crew aboard, really.
They quickly sorted it all out, learning more-or-less where everything onboard was as they did. Bidding the colt adieu, they shuffled over to one of the many doors branching off the room, none of them feeling in any particular hurry anymore. “And now we just wait, huh?” Rainbow said, rearing up to press her face against one of the windows to stare down at the ground below. “Yawn.”
“Should be a good view once we get moving,” Squirrel countered. “There’s the galley later on, and naps, too, I suppose.”
Rainbow pushed off the sill and back onto all fours. “View’s better when you’re flying yourself. The other stuff sounds okay.”
“Let’s just start with a walk-around and figure out where we’re sleeping, first,” Twilight said. “We can explore more after that.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Squirrel agreed, leading the way out the nearest door. “On that note, I’m just glad we’re getting proper berths on this one – I’ve had to do hammocks once before, and it’s not nearly as fun as you’d think.”
The noise picked up the moment they’d stepped outside, their manes and tails tossing about in the wind. Railed gantries connected the series of shack-like cabins that ran over and around the floatstone-packed keel that made up the centreline of the vessel – at least at this level. Bundles of cables ran along the rails, a faint hum marking them out as singers.
“The new jacket’s fantastic!” Twilight called over to Rainbow – she was quite pleased with how warm she was despite the chill air. “You definitely picked the right one!”
Rainbow smiled back at her and fluffed out her wings a bit. “Figured as much!”
They crossed over to the far cabin, ignoring the side paths for the moment. Sliding open the door, they found themselves in a workroom of sorts. Tools covered the walls, while numerous desks and shelves, crammed into nearly every spare space, were themselves jammed full of metal bits and bobs. No one else was here, but the room felt well-used.
“Ladder,” Squirrel noted, bobbing her head towards the corner. “Should be proper stairs around here, somewhere.” The colt had been vague about the particulars.
Twilight gave the ladder a wary look. “Let’s look for the stairs – I don’t really trust my balance on those things.” It was the swinging motion needed to get up the rungs that always got to her.
“Fair enough.”
It was after crossing another gantry that they found what they were looking for, tucked away on the inner side of a storeroom. Taking the steep, narrow switchbacked steps up to the next level, they bumped into a pair of crew on the way down.
“Tourists?” a ruffled-looking hen asked, giving Rainbow a friendly nudge. “We’ve got a few of you clumsy things around here, mucking about the place.”
“Clumsy!” Rainbow said, puffing out her chest. “I could dance on the head of a pin! Blindfolded! And drunk!”
The gryphon chuffed. “Sure, sure – you’re small enough to fit on one.”
Rainbow snorted, giving the hen a poke to the chest in turn. “Yuh huh. Where’s the galley at?”
“Oh – quickest is heading out that way,” she said, gesturing towards a near door with a wing. “Cross the keel, one cabin aft, then go up the stairs – you’ll know it when you see it.”
“Thanks!” Rainbow smiled. “Let’s keep on then, gang – it’s gotta be lunchtime by now.” As the two crew disappeared down the stairs, the three of them stepped back outside.
“I think that was the first gryphon we’ve really said anything to,” Twilight said as they started up a raised bridge of sorts, the keel passing just below as they crossed to port. They kept close to avoid shouting over the wind. “This side of the Calise, at least.”
“Really?” Squirrel said curiously. “They’re not exactly uncommon.”
“Well, aside from the ship’s crew on the way over, we haven’t really spoken to anybody outside the diplomatic team – not until our own ship went down, anyways.”
Squirrel raised a brow at that. “No gryphs on the embassy crew? Rare not to see at least a few of them with the engineers.”
“Nah,” Rainbow said. “Most of ‘em keep up north, and I know you said ours came from Squeak,” this last aimed at Twilight.
“Most do, these days.”
They paused in the middle of the bridge to stare off into the distance; from the looks of it, they hadn’t gotten underway yet. “The view really is great up here,” Twilight said, leaning lightly on the rail. “I so rarely get the chance to see it.”
“Definitely need to work out some kind of flying spell.”
“One day.”
The galley was right at the top, a full four stories up if you counted the maintenance level. There was a small amount of crew about, and even a few people dressed casually enough to be travellers just like themselves.
“I imagine the meals are scheduled?” Twilight wondered aloud.
“Yeah – too many people on a vessel this big for a make-your-own approach,” Squirrel said. Figuring there’d be plenty of time for socializing later, they took a seat near the windows – proper windows, too, and not little portholes – shucked their gear, and relaxed.
Several other ships could be seen outside – mostly smaller ones, but a pair of the larger cargo vessels, too. While Twilight didn’t have a particularly keen eye for these sorts of things, she thought they looked like they were getting ready to carry on. “Do you think many of the ships will be staying here? Some, at least, must have a good deal of cargo to move.”
Squirrel shrugged, not looking away as she continued to gaze out the window. “I’d imagine so – I’m not really up on these things.”
“As long as this one’s moving on, the others can chill here all week,” Rainbow said.
They’d been sitting there chatting and lazing for nearly an hour, waiting for something to happen, when a dull thrum ran through the ship. “Engines,” Squirrel said as she perked up. “Finally.”
“No kidding.” Rainbow, who’d been becoming increasingly fidgety, hopped off her bench and started pacing. “Let’s find our bunks – I wanna drop off my stuff and have a fly around.”
“I suspect we won’t have anything private, Dash,” Twilight said as she and Squirrel joined her. “We can look after your gear in the meanwhile, though.”
“Whatever works.”
They exited the galley through a random doorway and started wandering through corridors, gangways, and the occasional storeroom or cargo bay before eventually finding themselves in a long, narrow room, a dozen berths running down each wall, three bunks high. “Cozy,” Rainbow snorted as they strode down the aisle, ducking under the occasional low-hanging bit of netting or cables. “Think it matters which ones we take?”
“No,” Squirrel said, shaking her head. “Let’s see if there’s a triple we can snag – look for neatly-made beds.”
It didn’t take much checking before they found what they were looking for. “Dibs!” Rainbow called, leaping nimbly straight up to the top bunk. “Mine!”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “It’s not like either of us could get up there easily; anyways, I prefer bottom.”
Squirrel snorted, giggling as she climbed up to the middle rack. “Who’d’ve guessed.”
Twilight paused in her once-over of the bed. “Hmm?”
“Squirrel’s just being a perv; mind if I drop my stuff here? I won’t be gone long.”
“Sure,” Twilight frowned, rolling over and giving the bunk above her a hearty kick; there was a muffled ‘oof’ above. “Squirrel here can carry them if we go for a walk.”
“Sounds fine by me!” Rainbow hopped back down and disappeared the way they’d come.
Twilight gave the bunk another idle kick.
“Hey!” Squirrel said, her heading peeking down over the edge to stare at her. “These beds are really thin, you know.”
“Uh huh. Behave and you can sleep easy tonight.”
“Sure, sure,” Squirrel grinned at her. “Would hate to have to hit up Drizzle tired.”
Twilight wiggled herself into a comfy position. “Likewise, actually. There are a fair few diamond dogs – gnolls, I mean – settled near Sweet Apples, but they keep a good deal to themselves. It should be quite elucidating to see what such an old city of them here are like.”
There was a shifting overhead as Squirrel settled back down. “Well, people are people everywhere, you know? Except, well... alright, being different species and all does make for a heck of a difference. They’re about normal, I suppose?” She huffed. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
It’d been a few hours now, and the three of them had explored most of the ship. “Well, I think it’s fascinating,” Twilight insisted.
“It’s rocks.”
“It’s the only known material that gets lighter the more mana you pump into it!” Twilight exclaimed, scandalized. “Do you have any idea how much of a breakthrough that was?”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “It’s magic rocks, then.”
Twilight huffed, but dropped the subject – she was fairly certain Rainbow was just being a nuisance, anyways. “Well, I still think checking out the engine and flight mechanisms was worth the walk. And the climb.”
“It was certainly... loud,” Squirrel hesitantly agreed. “My teeth aren’t vibrating anymore, at least.”
“Yeeeah,” Twilight chuckled – the sheer number of singers running through the centralized room made things considerably noisier than she’d anticipated. “I hadn’t expected that.”
“Expensive-looking, too,” Rainbow added. “With how ramshackle the rest of this ship is, I was starting to doubt this convoy thing was even real.”
Squirrel stared at her, nonplussed. “‘Not real?’ You’re literally standing in it!”
“Coincidence,” Rainbow waved her off. “This could just’ve been some sort of hobo fleet, cruising around, looking for work and singing showtunes and stuff.”
Squirrel sighed. “And a noisy engine room means it’s legit?”
“All the best ships back home have the noisiest engines,” Rainbow shrugged. “Kwue-ee-dee, being loud equals being expensive.”
“And big expenses means big trade,” Twilight concluded, having long since gotten used to Rainbow’s odd train of logic.
“Apparently so,” Squirrel said with another sigh. “You’ve more-or-less got it though – this is the only real way to trade huge amounts of things at once if you’re not on the coast. The fleet’s a bit of a mess, but everything works, and from what I can tell the crew’s always top-notch.”
“Oh, definitely,” Rainbow agreed. “You can’t leave magic rocks to just anybody.”
“It looks so different from up here,” Twilight murmured, her face pressed up against the galley glass.
“Definitely my favourite part of these trips,” Squirrel agreed, gazing down at Autumn Beech far below. A few ships had broken off from the group to head for the docks, but their own was set to cruise past, still enroute to Drizzle.
“The fort stands out far more from up here, doesn’t it.” At this height, the town’s garden-terraces could be clearly made out, like the steps of a giant’s staircase on the northern and southern flanks of the mountain ridge. Although she couldn’t see much of it from this side of the ship, the river they’d come in on – and certainly the one on which they’d left – could be seen snaking about below. “You weren’t kidding about all the scrubland, either.”
“Told ya. Can’t believe it took us, what, three days to do this on hoof?”
Twilight shot a glance at the large mechanical clock on the wall, sitting above one of the far tables. “And only some four hours or so by air. Definitely makes sense why these convoys are so well used by travellers.” She turned away from the window and settled back into the padded bench. She’d wondered at first why their galley was so big – surely there weren’t that many crew? – but she’d sorely underestimated just how many other passengers were aboard.
“You know they have gemstones in them?” Squirrel said, bobbing her head towards the clock as she settled down next to her. “On the bearings?”
“Really?” Twilight said, shooting the clock a scrutinizing look. “Wouldn’t that make them prohibitably expensive?”
“Nah – they’re castoffs and cut bits that don’t look good enough to sell, but they’ve still got real low friction when rubbed against metal.”
“That’s... huh. That’s kind of neat.” Not particularly useful, mind, as she wasn’t really one for arcana. Still though – neat.
“Is that the sort of stuff they make in Drizzle?” Rainbow asked, staring at the clock herself. “Along with all the other things, I mean?”
“Probably,” Squirrel shrugged. “Never had cause to learn all the particulars.”
“Bet they’ve got reeeal fancy clocks there, then,” Rainbow carried on, tapping away at the tabletop; the galley was slowly filling around them as five o’clock neared, and all of them were hungry. “With great big diamonds in the centre of them!”
“It’s rubies, mostly,” Squirrel said thoughtfully. “At least, I think it is. Sapphires and corundum, too.”
“They must be worth a fortune on the big clocks.”
“They’re also the same mineral,” Twilight said, side-eying the pair of them suspiciously. “So what are we looking forward to, exactly?”
“Really?” Squirrel said, surprised. “I’d’ve thought you’d’ve scoured every atlas and almanac you could find by now.”
Twilight shrugged a touch self-consciously. “I wanted to keep the surprise; that, and there wasn’t actually much written about most of these places – their histories, sure, but their present? Not so much.”
Squirrel shot Rainbow an apologetic glance before answering. “It’s, umm, mostly industry, I’m afraid. Great views, though! But mostly just mines and workshops, through and through. Well, that and farms and homes and so forth, of course.”
“And mounds of gold, right?” Rainbow said, sitting up and looking mildly alarmed. “There has to be something like that, right?”
“Well...”
“Ahh nuts,” Rainbow groaned. “This is gonna be boring, isn’t it.”
“There are some lapidaries!” Squirrel hurried to console her, trying to hold back laughter. “And lots of famous jewels were cut there! And don’t forget the machinery!”
“Machinery can be quite beautiful in its intricacy,” Twilight hastened to add in. “Almost like a gemstone made of steel!”
“... lame.”
Squirrel couldn’t help snorting. “Hey, if you’re lucky maybe we’ll be kidnapped? That could always happen.”
Twilight nodded along. “It is technically possible. Sort of. Mathmatically, at least.”
“I guess that’s something,” Rainbow said, visibly cheering up. “We’d have to escape captivity then! We could hooffight dragons and everything!”
Twilight smiled. “That’s the spirit.”
It was a decent mixed-buffet of sorts. “You sure you don’t want any?” Rainbow asked, pointing again at her fish. “It’s very nearly fresh.”
Twilight grimaced as she shook her head. “I’m only so-so on seafood at the best of times; it’s all yours.”
“Your loss,” Rainbow shrugged. Given the melange that made up the crew and passengers, the galley had a huge range of foods set out. None of them were certain where exactly they’d picked up the fish from – they didn’t stop over at Hurricanum, after all – but since a lot of other people had grabbed some, Rainbow figured it was probably safe.
The sky was darkening outside. Autumn Beech was now but a distant smudge on the horizon, and the ground below had become rocky and mountainous with little more than sparse shrubby trees littering the slopes. According to Squirrel they were headed eastwards, intending to hook around a wide mountain ridge before cutting back north and into the long valley that led up to Drizzle.
From the sounds of it they’d be docking an hour or so after sunrise. “That means no breakfast,” Twilight said, having pulled out one of her logbooks to scribble a few notes in. “We should be able to find something pretty quickly once we’ve arrived, though.”
“Tourists are fairly common there,” Squirrel nodded along agreeably. “There’ll be places around the docks, I’m sure.”
“Oh goody – we can eat breakfast just in time to look at all the machiiinery,” Rainbow groused. “Fun.”
Squirrel rolled her eyes. “Some of the bigger jewels are on display, you know – they’ve even got one that glows!”
“Lots of rocks glow,” Rainbow huffed.
“This one’s supposed to be special! Somehow. I think. I didn’t check any of this stuff out when I was here.”
“I can’t believe we ever thought you were a guide.”
Squirrel opened her mouth to say something before settled into a pout. “I could be a guide. You just wait til we’re in Wanderbelle – I’ll be a fantastic guide then. You’ll see.”
“Yuh huh.”
“I will!”
“Yuh huuuh.”
Evening had fallen, and the three of them had retired to their triple bunks. Rainbow had settled in comfortably on her top bunk, the ceiling near enough to touch; the other two were quietly chatting below her, but she wasn’t much interested in joining in. The room was noisy, but not annoyingly so – she’d never had much of a problem falling asleep with others around, and the rest of the passengers were being fairly quiet.
The ship hadn’t been nearly as cramped as she’d feared, and she’d had some fun flying about the outside and checking out all the little nooks and crannies that you simply couldn’t hope to get to from the inside. It had certainly turned out to be more interesting exploring a ramshackle mess of a ship rather than one of the neat and tidy ones from back home.
She propped her legs up on the gear she’d stashed at the foot of her bunk and settled into a doze, the hum of the ventilation beside her oddly soothing.
Hopefully, Drizzle would be worth the trip.
It was light enough to see outside, though the sun had yet to fully rise. They were just entering a wide, rocky cirque, its bottom etched with countless little streams and rivulets all flowing together into a river whose bed now lay far behind them.
The cliffs and slopes ahead were riddled with scaffolds and shacks, tunnels and bridges. A great, diagonal gouge in the rock, several stories tall, leered out at them, while a brace of tower-clusters lay spread about the entrance, many of which were already host to other ships. Still more platforms covered the area around, full of canvas-covered gear and goods, or leading up to the faces of warehouses and offices built into the living stone. It was bustling and vibrant, if in a trade and dockside kind of way.
It was also in no uncertain terms an industrial frontend, far and again divorced from anything even remotely touristy.
“Squirrel,” Rainbow said, staring out at the gloomy marina. “I hate you.”
“Oh, come on! It’s not that bad,” Squirrel said, giving her a little nudge. “This is just the, umm, the ugly entrance? Yeah. The nicer one’s in the mountains. There’s a very pretty valley and everything.”
Rainbow shot her a skeptical look. “And the reason we’re at this one is...?”
“Trade convoy, of course! Can’t imagine them taking the scenic route, now can you?”
Rainbow sighed, grumbling under her breath as she stared out at the fast-approaching city. She could make out the shambling forms of hundreds of diamond dogs moving about, their earthy coats standing out against the sun-bleached walkways and pale stone. Ponies and gryphons, too, were hurrying around here and there, their neckerchiefs or collars marking them out as stevedores or mechanics or anything else.
With the sun not yet fully up, and countless lanterns and shards still lit all around the dockworks, the sight was actually rather pretty; even the gash that made up the main entranceway had an alluring glow to it.
“Geez, this is ugly,” Rainbow complained instead.
“It’ll be fine once we’re inside, Dash,” Twilight said. “And we’re seeing the sights, remember? We’re on vacation! Again! I’m sure the architecture alone will be more than worth the trip – I mean, can you imagine the type of buttresses they’d need to support the caverns? Or the lighting! Directing natural light so deep into the mountains must’ve been a task unto itself!” Twilight grinned, practically vibrating with energy. “Do you think there’s a tour we can take?”
“... of lighting shafts?” Squirrel shared a confused glance with Rainbow.
“Yes! Or the ventilation! That has to be worth a walking tour.”
Squirrel took a step to the side to avoid being continually whacked by Twilight’s swishing tail. “Maaaybe we’ll start with the normal stuff first? The markets and craft shops and the like?” She shot Rainbow a pleading look.
“Oh, yeah,” Rainbow hurriedly agreed. “We should totally check out all that stuff first – there’s a glowing rock and everything! We can walk through the, uhh, ventilation shafts afterwards. Definitely. Super definitely.”
“Well, I suppose...”
“Perfect!”
A pair of compact, sturdy-looking dirigibles, packing some of the biggest engines Rainbow had ever seen on ships so small, approached them on either side. “Like tugboats, right?”
“Mmhmm,” Twilight agreed. From where they were lounging near what passed for the bow on their ship, they had a pretty good view of the procedings.
As their own ship was slowly guided into dock, the sun arose behind them, bathing the city front in the morning light.
“Much better,” Squirrel murmured.
The docks were far more colourful than Rainbow had anticipated; banners and flags of all colours waved and hung from countless wires and towers – signals, she guessed, for the pilots to know what was what; everything, too, was speckled with the dull greens of moss and ferns peeking out from every ledge that could hold them.
“It’s quite painterly, isn’t it,” Twilight agreed.
Rainbow grunted.
The wind was howling through the scaffolds as they disembarked and stepped onto a wide, thick gangway off the starboard side. Only a hoofful of passengers were remaining behind; the rest joined them, jackets and coats pulled tight against the chill breeze as they hurried to the nearest stairwell.
Twilight had to fight to keep her balance as the tower they were on swayed violently.
“It’s sturdy enough!” Squirrel assured her over the noise, having noticed the spooked looks she was casting about. “It bends so it doesn’t break!”
Twilight groaned as she kept close. They brushed past a small group of short-haired gnolls making their way up, the ponies feeling positively short in comparison.
“They all look the same as back home,” Rainbow said, glancing back at the group. “Even the piercings look the same.”
Twilight was more than happy to have something to distract her. “Well, it’s not like they can have pups with anyone but each other.”
“And I can’t imagine that there’re many different ways to pierce an ear,” Squirrel added.
“Well, yeah – I know that,” Rainbow huffed. “But we don’t have a giant city of them, do we? Like, we’ve got the warren in the river-quarry, but it’s nothing major. I just wondered if the locals here would be different, is all.”
They’d reached the bottom of the well; here, the platform broke off into several walkways heading off in seemingly random directions. Luckily, they were saved the need to choose which way when the leaders of their group of passengers made straight for the farthest one. Figuring they were heading for the inner city themselves, the three of them followed. “There are probably a Myriad cultural differences, Dash,” Twilight said, happy to be on solid ground again. When the wood planks changed to cut stone, she smiled at how well her new boots were working. “It’s part of why we’re here, after all. The locals will mark themselves out as unique soon enough.”
“The drizzlians, you mean,” Rainbow said.
“Oh, not that again.”
The three of them stood and stared up at the roof of the crevice far above. From down here at the threshold it looked so much bigger than it had from the air. “You could fit most any of the towers back home in here,” Twilight mumbled over the sound of running water.
“You’d have to tilt them a bunch, but yeah.” The diagonal slope was terraced and shaped into a massive stepped fountain; glassy waterfalls poured down over lips and through channels, weaving their ways through shard-lit sculptures and stone-carved statues. Standing proudly at its centre was a great winged deer – a peryton.
“Ooo,” Twilight cooed as she pointed to it. “That’s the First Fear, isn’t it! I’ve always loved that tale.”
“Gnolls do have the spookiest myths,” Squirrel agreed. “Living in pitch-black warrens and delving into the old depths will do that to you.”
Rainbow’s ears perked up. “Imagine if we could actually go down that far? That’d be waaay cooler than ventilation shafts.”
The growing crowds moving through the rift had begun to jostle them about; figuring they’d spent more than enough time loitering, they continued on down the passage. “Considering such depths are truly chthonic, we’d be in for a heck of walk,” Twilight said. She craned her neck for a look ahead, but couldn’t see much beyond the crowd. “I think I’d find them too intimidating, anyways.”
“I doubt tourists would have any way to get down there, either,” Squirrel noted. “I can see things opening up just ahead, by the way – we’re almost inside.” The occasional side-passage veered off either side, but it was the main atrium that held their attention.
“I can’t imagine there’s anything like that in Equus, is there?”
Twilight shrugged. “If there is, I haven’t heard of it.”
The rough, craggy stone walls began to take on form, becoming gradually squared, smoothed and polished; small dugouts were host to yet more statues, but Twilight couldn’t make out what they were. As they continued, a whitish-blue glow grew ahead, but how far away it was she couldn’t hope to tell.
It was almost a shock, then, when they suddenly found themselves at the top of a long, broad-stepped staircase, wide enough to host twenty abreast. A ceaseless barrage of noise echoed back at them from the massive market-agora at its base, easily a couple hundred metres deep and across. Stalls and buildings alike populated the area, with alleys both wide and narrow snaking throughout. Wood-and-stone buildings peeked out from every wall, while above – far, far above – the morning light shone in.
“Ohh!” Twilight smiled. “We’re in a sort of canyon, aren’t we?”
Squirrel nodded. “Yep! A lot of this place is proper underground too, mind, but most folk don’t really care for the dark. We’re in the dockside market right now – the farms and some more docks are up above, and a lot of the workshops and mines and stuff are below; plus, I think there’s supposed to be a really exotic market somewhere further in, by the underground canals.”
Rainbow groaned, managing to look disappointed even as she was just as clearly excited by the sight. “You mean this isn’t even an underground city? With all this sunlight? I feel ripped off.”
“I just said a lot of it’s underground,” Squirrel drawled, rolling her eyes.
“Still feel ripped off,” Rainbow muttered.
“Well, at least you can fly,” Twilight pointed out. “You wouldn’t even be alone in it.” The closer she looked at the canyon walls above, the more flyers she could pick out here and there.
“I know...” Rainbow fluffed out her wings. “I was just hoping for... oh, I don’t know. Something more, I guess.”
“More like in high fantasy?” Twilight asked as they started down into the forum. “With sconces and giant statues and red carpeting all about? The gnoll cities are certainly quite grand in them.”
Rainbow didn’t say anything, but her blush belied her feelings.
Twilight gave her a shoulder bump. “Hey – let’s keep exploring; we need breakfast, after all, and who knows what we’ll find? We can even check out the canals!”
Twilight settled down onto her stool, the others either side, and rested her elbows on the low counter bar. They’d found a cozy-looking place tucked right on a vibrant intersection; short curtains hung down from the rafters, just far enough to dampen the sounds of the street.
“I suppose that’s something I hadn’t really thought of before,” Squirrel said as they examined the menus scrawled above the grills. “That we’d have completely different books, I mean.”
“Entire libraries containing not a single thing I’ve ever read,” Twilight sighed dreamily. “It’s been fantastic.”
“Have you poked your muzzle in them at all?” Squirrel asked, looking over at Rainbow. “If you like fantasy, I know of a few good ones.”
Rainbow shrugged. “Way too much work – wouldn’t even know where to start, you know? It’s not like they gave us a list of good stuff at the embassy.”
Squirrel hummed, drumming a hoof on the counter. “The Lady of the Deep? That’s fitting, considering where we are. Or The Rising Eclipse? Good series, that.”
“The first one could be okay...” Rainbow started, but was interrupted when a small gnoll approached them from behind the bar, his head barely visible above the counter. He was wearing a thin, open jacket and a dull green scarf despite the warmth.
“Hello,” he said in the soft, breathy voice common to his kind. “Know what you want?”
They chatted idly with him for a couple minutes before settling on their orders. Most of the food looked familar to Twilight, but there were a few things she didn’t recognize; she wasn’t feeling adventurous enough to actually try them, mind, but Rainbow was. “They might have something like that back in the city,” Twilight said as the gnoll stepped back to the burners. “I’ll admit I was really only looking at the non-fiction works.”
“Should try and grab a few of the big ones before you head home,” Squirrel continued. “It’ll be ages otherwise before they show up in Equus – I can’t imagine the trade between us is nearly good enough to justify carting books back and forth.”
“We could have them printed locally?”
Squirrel frowned. “Something about that doesn’t sound quite right...”
There was a clinking of porcelain as their food – they all ended up going with one manner of veggie broth or another – was set down. “I’m sure we can find something decent once we get back, Dash.”
“As long as it’s about underground cities, we’re good,” Rainbow said between mouthfuls. “And treasure hunts! And fight scenes!”
“Sure, sure,” Squirrel humoured her. “The ones I mentioned’ll be a good place to start.”
They quietly fell back to eating. Twilight wasn’t certain where they’d be heading off to next – some of the craftshops would be neat – but she felt they definitely needed to check out some of the older architecture, for Rainbow’s sake if nothing else.
She was assuming, of course, that the local gnolls followed the same habits as the ones back home. “Do they have tapestries here? In the old warrens?” she asked the others.
Squirrel nodded. “Should do; we going there next?”
“Fine by me.” They soon paid up and stepped back out onto the ever-busier street. The sky above had steadily brightened as they ate, illuminating the market nearly as well as an overcast day. “Any idea which way to go?”
“Nope!”
Twilight sighed while Squirrel smiled in amusement. “Let’s just... let’s just wander around, then, I suppose.”
“It’s more of a walking-town than a sightseeing-town, anyways.”
They picked a direction more-or-less at random – Rainbow could always get airborne if they got lost – and started walking. The loose plan was to spend the day and night here, then head back to the docks in the morning – best as they could tell from asking around earlier, there’d be at least one ship still waiting there to continue along the trade route.
Wandering past stalls and buildings purveying all manner of foreign food and gear made Twilight lament how light they were forced to travel; still, she kept a weather eye out for any bookstores.
“Shouldn’t there be a living-market around here, somewhere?” Rainbow said as they passed what looked like an engine-parts warehouse.
“Looks pretty lively around here,” Squirrel said, but Rainbow just huffed.
“You can take point if you like, Dash,” Twilight said, feeling a little embarassed for not having suggested it earlier – she’d fallen into the lead without even thinking about it. “You’ll know these places better, after all.”
“Alriiight!” Rainbow said, cheering up noticeably. “First thing’s first – this way!” She veered off down one of the many side alleys and headed fast for the edge of the canyon.
“What’s up?” Squirrel asked as she and Twilight fought to keep up through the crowds.
Twilight shot her a curious look. “Rainbow knows far more about these kind of places than me – how do you not know that?”
“‘How do I not know that’?” Squirrel asked, perplexed. “What do you – wait! I thought it was just books on the underground that she liked? Stories and stuff?”
“She likes anything and everything about it, actually,” Twilight said, smiling fondly at the rainbow tail flicking about between people still some lengths ahead.
“But she’s practically claustrophobic!” Squirrel hissed.
Twilight frowned at her. “She’s pretty good for a pegasus, actually. And what’s that got to do with anything?”
Squirrel couldn’t seem to think of anything to say to that.
They caught up with Rainbow on the quieter fringes of the market. Here, the area was lit with lanterns hung from long, thick cables and ropes; the glow of the day was behind them now, with nothing but rock several metres above. “There you are!” Rainbow called out to them, her tail still swishing eagerly. “Now that we’re out of the main touristy bit, we’re gonna want to look for any tall, narrow entrances – the ones with gouges on the sides.”
“Friendly,” Squirrel muttered as they started walking down the walls. Noticing the odd looks, she elaborated. “I’m not so, uhh, well-versed on gnoll culture? Working mines, sure, but mine-homes? Not so much.”
“Well, it’s a biped thing, ya know?” Rainbow smirked, looking like she was resisting the urge to tease their erstwhile guide with great effort. “Their front paws aren’t on the ground.”
“... and?”
“You’ll work it out,” Rainbow snickered, clearly enjoying herself.
Twilight left them to their play as she fell a few lengths behind. It was pleasantly calm here, the sounds of hawkers and machinery neatly muffled by the tall warehouses and stacks of pallets and equipment set up around them.
So far the whole ‘second vacation’ thing seemed to be going alright, best as Twilight could figure it; this time, at least, they’d actually made it to a destination without crashing first. Drizzle had a certain grandness to it, too, but she had to admit it wasn’t much different from some of the sites back home; with a little luck, though, Rainbow should be able to sort that out.
“We’ve got something here!” Rainbow hurried forwards towards a small, well-lit adit; thin scratches marred the corners either side. Although little decorated, the tunnel had a well-used feel to it.
The other two caught up to her. “Well done, Dash,” Twilight smiled at her, looking just as eager as Rainbow was to finally start looking around somewhere cool.
“No sense waiting, then,” Rainbow said, leading the way as the other two kept close behind.
Squirrel lingered a moment at the entrance. “I still don’t get the scratches.”
“Try walking on your hinds,” Twilight said, motioning Rainbow to slow down.
Squirrel looked skeptical for a moment before rearing up and taking a few steps towards them. Like any pony, she could walk around like that just fine -- if rather slowly -- but it wasn’t long before she began trailing a hoof along the wall for balance.
“There!” Rainbow smirked with an exagerated roll of her eyes. “See now?”
Squirrel paused a moment, before – “Oh.”
“Exactly! It just only happens if they’re going fast around corners, is all.” Even gnolls were a tad clumsy at speed.
They carried on down the passage. It was thoroughly unremarkable at first, but soon came to be decorated with simple paintings daubed straight onto the rough stone. “It should get way fancier further in,” Rainbow lectured, happy that for once she was the learned one. “These are just directions – I don’t know how to translate them, though; of course, it’s the real market we’re looking for. After that, we’ll have to ask someone for permission – we’ll kinda be walking through the dogs’ homes, you know? Gotta ask first.”
Rainbow’d never actually been well into an old warren before – she’d bugged the quarry dogs back home until they’d let her in, but it was all new stuff there, barely a decade old. She’d only ever read about the first cuts before, and while she doubted they’d live up to what she’d read in all her books – fantasy or otherwise – there was no way she was passing up the opportunity.
“There should be a river or stream at some point,” Rainbow continued, her voice echoing down the tunnel and mingling with the gentle susurrus of conversations far ahead. “These places always get made around one. Should have some real fancy carvings on the walls, too.”
“Sounds interesting,” Squirrel hedged as she shot her a look. “Just, umm, just out of curiousity – these books... are they, uhh...”
Rainbow huffed. “Just ‘cause they’re in the fiction section, doesn’t mean they’re all made up. Sorta. You know what I mean.”
“They’ll be based on real locations, to be sure,” Twilight said, coming to her aid. “I’m sure whatever it ends up looking like, it’ll be far more interesting than the ‘touristy’ places.”
“Exactly.”
The tunnel abruptly opened up into a wide, circular chamber, open at one side. A wrought-iron spiral staircase pierced the centre through roof and floor, whereas a railed opening beyond stared out like a window into a narrow chasm or pit. Blocky copper statues, their bases pitted and marred with patina, lay about the walls, interspersed with warmly-glowing carved shards set on plinths.
They seemed to be in some sort of atrium, not least because of the near-constant stream of comers and goers passing to and fro, shooting them curious little glances as they went.
A trio of gnolls looked up at them from the far rails; the ponies stared owlishly back. “Not to be rude,” one of them – a tall, rakish dam – said loudly in her raspy voice. “But are you lost?”
“No!” Rainbow squeaked, cursing her voice for betraying her. “No, uhh – no. We were just looking for the inner market and maybe see some of the first cuts?” She hadn’t intended that to come out as a question.
The dam snorted. “Just don’t break anything,” she said, pointing a paw vaguely at the room below.
“Of course! Of course,” Rainbow coughed. “We’ll just, uhh... yeah.”
Squirrel laughed and walked past her, giving her a flick of her tail as she did. “Smooth as ever, Rainbow; let’s get going.”
Rainbow spluttered as she took a few quick steps to keep pace, looking anywhere but back at the dam or any of the other gnolls about. Their boots clacked on the thick, grated metal steps as they descended. Unlike in a building, where one floor immediately led to another, here the stairs bored deep into the rock, the light of the floor well below peering up at them from the open centre. Looking down, Rainbow figured they were a few floors above some sort of shallow pond at the stairs’ base.
They were barely halfway down the blessedly empty stairwell when a hurried clattering came from behind. “Ah! Hello again,” said the same dam from before once she’d caught up. “Figured you might get lost; want some company?”
Twilight shot Rainbow and Squirrel a couple of quick glances; seeing no opposition, she smiled at the dam. “Sure! We’re not entirely certain where we’re going, although I don’t think we’d actually get lost.”
The dam shrugged, her heavy jacket clinking dully. “Apparently I’ve got nothing better to do; plus, what are those voices you got?” She fell in beside them, standing a full head above even Squirrel, as they continued down the steps.
“Charming ones,” Rainbow answered. “Super charming ones.”
“Kinda – yeah,” the dam easily agreed. “I’m Raster, by the way.”
“Rainbow,” Rainbow said, eying Raster’s numerous silver earrings while the other two introduced themselves. “I like the rings – go well with your coat.” She was pretty sure that was right – the books always had people complimenting a gnoll’s metalworks to get on their good side, and the quarry gnolls seemed to like it whenever she did it – but she was way more familar with sharp-tongued gryphons than dogs.
“Aww, aren’t you sweet,” Raster said teasingly. “Don’t often see ponies in boots – at least, not on the fores. They’re nice.”
“We had a bit of a... trek, I suppose,” Twilight answered. “Just a week back. We’re still more than a little chipped up.”
“I see,” Raster said, crooked beams of light from the room below dancing over her face – they were nearly at the bottom, now. “Must’ve been quite the journey – I still can’t place those accents, you know.”
Rainbow wondered if they’d be explaining that to everybody on this trip – they really did sound foreign. “We’re travellers from distant shores,” she began, panning a hoof dramatically. “From yonder the, umm...”
“Calise.”
“Right – thanks Twi – the Calise sea! Here for treasure and bounty and more besides!”
Raster blinked, bemused. “Riiight,” she drawled. “Across the Calise.”
“Definitely.”
The dam sighed, but was spared coming up with a response when they reached the bottom of the well and got their first look at the room below.
A stream burbled merrily past, fed by several minute ceramic tubes jutting out of the walls at intervals, while a small, glassy pool had formed beneath the stairs, reflecting the light of dozens upon dozens of weak faery shards, their sheer number enough to light the passage. Along the stream was an elaborately cobbled walkway, designs wrought upon it through stones of different shapes and colours. From here, the tunnel appeared to open up once again just around a soft bend ahead, while carrying on narrowly behind them.
“See that bridge just over there?” Raster said, pointing out a wooden arched bridge just to their backs, a little ways downstream. “That’ll eventually get to the first cuts; upstream, though, is our little market.”
“We’ll check that out first?” Rainbow said, taking point as Twilight seemed far too distracted by the little murals built into the ground to answer. “Sound good, guys?”
“It’s your show,” Squirrel shrugged easily enough. “Twilight?”
“Hmm? Oh! Sure – but look here! These look amazing!”
They walked over to check out what had caught Twilight’s eye: all along the boardwalk’s edge polished stones had been set not flat, but raised and angled upwards in the ground; spiral patterns were etched out by the tilted stones, their shadows and shiny tops creating bumpy flowers and swirls.
“Those are a century old, I think?” Raster said, having followed close behind. “Or more, maybe. Painful to walk on, if pretty.”
On second look, all of the walkway was decorated with cobbles like these, but laid flat and easy to walk upon. “Cool,” Rainbow said, checking out the stepped arches and precisely-cut walls. “Finally something that looks like a proper undercity.”
“Just being in a cave isn’t good enough?” Raster asked, amused. “And this area’s hardly big enough for a city – it feels like there’s barely a few hundred living in the old sections, these days.”
“Waaay better than that main market up above – that could’ve been in Beech for all it looks like it,” Rainbow insisted.
“Well, glad you found what you were looking for,” Raster said, bobbing her head gently upstream. “Our market’s more of a collection of shops and – if you know where you’re going – homes. Shall we?”
They started down the walkway, Raster sauntering beside Rainbow at the lead. Much like them, Twilight wasn’t in any particular hurry – she was still caught up in the intricate designs subtley covering so many of the cornices and stone columns around them; that, and she had a feeling Raster was setting the pace – she felt more like an escort than just a bored dog.
It certainly was shaping up to be more interesting down here than above, though there was no way she wasn’t checking out some of the other areas later – she’d love to see how they compared to the inner sections of Canterlot back home.
“I can’t imagine there’s only a few hundred gnolls here,” Twilight said as she and Squirrel trailed behind. “The city’s far too big.”
“Could be she just meant in this little community?”
“We still aren’t far off from where Rainbow’d first found the side tunnel,” Twilight admitted thoughtfully. “I suppose it could be a coincidence... although with how tall Drizzle sounds to be, could there be a series of little communes like this?”
“It’s definitely tall,” Squirrel agreed. “Spreads out into the mountains behind a ways, too, apparently.”
“Would make a heckuva commute.”
The passage opened up into an agora of sorts. Here, several streams flowed in and out under wooden boardwalks to pool together into a wide, central pond, the burbling of water over weirs a constant backdrop to the chatter of shoppers and passersby. A series of tiered stairways snaked all about, leading to narrow walkways and countless homely-looking doors as it wound its way up what looked like a massive old mine shaft. At the very base of the shaft, and spilling out right to the water’s edge, were open storefronts.
“Food,” Twilight noted as she glanced around; as near as she could tell, they were the only non-gnolls around. “Clothes, tools – I don’t know what I was expecting, really.” She and Squirrel hurried to catch up to the other two, already weaving through the thin morning crowd as they headed for one of the shops. “Find something?” she asked as they caught up.
“It’s a spice shop!” Rainbow grinned back at her. “We totally gotta get something local while we’re here.”
Twilight nodded back, not seeing anything wrong with that – whatever they ended up getting should pack well enough.
As she stepped over the threshold a wave of pungent scents washed over her from the battery of heaping piles of ground spices in all manner of earthy colours. On shelves around them lay wide glass jars, brimming with dried leaves and uncut roots; even the rafters were in spots draped with dried sprigs of one thing or another. She was well out of her depth here.
“Is any of this stuff... new?” Twilight asked, keeping close to Rainbow.
“I’ve seen a bunch of this stuff back in ‘Canum,” Rainbow said, pausing at each bin or pile to give the spices a smell, her wings gently wafting the air around. “But I don’t know a couple of ‘em – anything unique here?” Rainbow added this last to Raster.
“A few things over here, yeah,” Raster said, gesturing her further down the line; she seemed pleased with Rainbow’s interest. “Come.”
Twilight trailed a little ways behind as they climbed up steep staircases and along circular walkways. Raster had insisted on taking them up to one of their gem shops – considering it’d be filled mostly with uncut and unfinished jewels, it should make for a very different sight than the kind they’d’ve found in the city’s main thoroughfares.
“So why’s it called a lapidary, anyways?” Rainbow asked from ahead. “It’s not like is has anything to do with bunnies.”
“... bunnies?” Raster looked nonplussed. “What do bunnies have to do with anything? A lapidary is a gem expert.”
“Isn’t a lapis a bunny?”
“Actually,” Twilight cut in, unable to help herself. “You’re probably thinking of ‘lepus,’ Dash, although that would refer to hares, not rabbits.”
Rainbow appeared to mull that over for a second. “No... no, I’m pretty sure lapises are bunnies – ‘Shy must’ve mentioned that before, I’m sure of it.”
Twilight sighed, and not for the first time wondered if Dash was being serious or not.
They were nearly halfway up the shaft when Raster stopped outside an otherwise mundane-looking doorway. “We’re here,” she said with an expansive gesture.
“Well, let’s not keep them waiting!” Twilight smiled; she was feeling more than a little pleased with herself for just how not winded she felt after that climb – all the exercise these past few weeks was paying off!
They stepped into a crowded workshop, a dry, dusty taste to the air. It was well, if somewhat sporadically, lit by crisp, white zephyric lamps; there was an intermittent thumping coming from some backroom, but otherwise they were the only ones present.
“I think Crest might be somewhere in back,” Raster said as she began weaving her way through crates and laden tables. “I’ll go check.”
While the dam was in the back, the three of them started cautiously poking around; unfortunately, there wasn’t much in the way of gems on display. “I imagine they’re all wrapped up,” Twilight said, rearing up against one of the tall, gnoll-height tables to stare down at a box filled with crumpled balls of parchment. She gave one a tentative poke. “I wonder why she brought us here?”
“Could be interesting to see some partially-cut stones,” Squirrel guessed from across the room. “Might have a particularly big one here, right now.”
“Hmm.” Twilight was doubtful – the way Raster had coached it on the way up, there was something especially interesting in the shop right now she thought they’d like to see, and it wasn’t just because it was big.
“Well, what’s the hurry?” Rainbow cut in, setting down a box she probably shouldn’t’ve been rooting through in the first place. “We’re on vacation! We’ve had lunch, dinner’s ages away, so what’s the harm in chilling out in some backroom for a bit?”
“Nothing, as such,” Twilight admitted. “I’m still curious, though.”
It was little later when Raster came back in. “Oh good – you’re still here. Crest is still holding it – come!” She seemed eager to chivvy them into the next room, a smile beaming on her muzzle.
“I getta see it first, right?” Rainbow said, hurrying to join the dam. “As ambassador to ponykind, I totally get to see it first!”
“Of course,” Raster said, rolling her eyes. “Because I’ve never seen a pony before.”
“Technically, we are ambassadors,” Twilight said as she and Squirrel joined them. “Sort of.”
“Because you’re from across the Calise, eh?”
“Precisely,” Twilight nodded, neatly ignoring the doubt in Raster’s voice.
“Well, I don’t know what kind of stones you’ve got hanging around back in wherever, but I don’t think you’ve seen much of these.”
They stepped through a doorway and immediately into another, low-ceiled room; Twilight could make out small lathes, machine-drills and sanders, amongst other things, but her attention was drawn chiefly to a thick, wooden crate seated beneath a single, blazing lamp.
Behind the crate, and looking curiously at them, was an old sire, his coat starting to turn grey with age. “These the tourists, then?” he rasped, fiddling with the dull green shemagh around his neck as he shot Raster a glance. “Odd seeing them outside the canyon.”
“They wanted to see the cuts,” Raster said, giving a good-natured shrug. “Figured I’d show them the sliver while they were here.”
Twilight’s ears shot up. “Wait – sliver?” She scurried forwards and reared up, peering intently down at the crate; whatever was in there was still swaddled in cloth. “You’ve got a sliver!”
Squirrel stepped up to join her, staring skeptically at the crate. “I don’t know the term.”
It was the sire – Crest – that answered. “Mana in physical form,” he huffed. “They pop up sometimes where the leylines intersect; not particularly valuable, but rare nonetheless.” This said, he started to carefully unwrap the stone.
Leaning forwards, Twilight got a glimpse of shifting colours before the final fold fell away. There, nestled within the cloth, was an oblong, blocky crystal, about as long and wide around as her arm. It was milky white, but with an oily rainbow-like sheen to it.
Rainbow shoved up alongside her, taking a good look herself. “Is that it?” she asked in a flat voice. “I mean, I’m sure it’s very special and all, but...”
On the one hoof, Twilight could see where she was coming from – the sliver was, for all intents and purposes, a slightly colourful block of quartz – but on the other hoof... “Dash! Do you have any idea how extraordinary something like this is? Natural arcane constructs are beyond rare! This is, this is – ” She struggled to find the right words.
“Well, at least one of you is finding this interesting,” Raster noted. Despite her words, she still seemed more amused than anything.
Rainbow couldn’t really see the appeal. Twilight was still gazing hungrily down at the rock, but it wasn’t exactly the kind of thing that came to mind when someone said ‘gemstone.’ On the plus side, Squirrel seemed just as confused.
“Are you selling?” Twilight said, her voice quiet but intense as she continued to stare down at the sliver.
Rainbow started. “Wait – what? You want to buy it?”
Crest snorted and frowned. “Not for sale. What would a tourist even need such a thing for?”
Twilight didn’t seem put off by Crest’s comment. “What’s the buyer offering? I can probably match it.”
While Rainbow didn’t know why Twilight seemed to be willing to make an argument of it, she was fairly certain aggressive haggling was not the right way to deal with gnolls. “Easy there, Twi,” she said, giving her a friend a little poke. “If the sliver thing’s not for sale, then it’s not for sale.”
Crest grunted, his expression easing up as he covered the stone again. “Listen to your friend, pony. Raster?”
The dam nodded and began shooing the three of them out of the room. “Come! Crest is busy; we’ve taken up enough of his time.”
Twilight didn’t seem to want to tear her eyes away from the crate, only reluctantly leaving the room with the others; as there wasn’t much going on in the front, they carried straight on back onto the walkway, Raster close in tow. “We can have a look at the first cuts, if you like,” she said, looking disapprovingly at Twilight. “They’re not far from here.”`
“Sounds good,” Squirrel answered immediately, as she and Raster took the lead. “How old are they, anyways?”
While the two of them chatted, Rainbow fell back to join Twilight, who’d started lagging behind. “Hey,” she said as she came up alongside her. “What was all that about?”
“That was a sliver,” Twilight said distractedly, staring down in thought. “I didn’t think we’d just, just bump into one! Do you have any idea how rare those are?”
“I think you asked that already. What’s so special about a lump of magic quartz, anyways?”
Twilight huffed, but kept quiet. It wasn’t until they’d descended the last of the steep and narrow staircases and set hoof on the stoney bottom again that she spoke. “There aren’t many things that could help us with the Everfree – I mentioned I needed an anchor of sorts?” She waited until Rainbow had nodded before continuing. “Well, a sliver should work as one.”
Rainbow mulled that over for a moment. “That rock can do that? It doesn’t even glow!” She shook her head in mock disappointment.
Twilight chuffed, a small smile on her face. “I won’t bore you with the details – just that that thing could’ve been the answer I’d been hoping to find.”
They passed back through the little open market square, weaving around the gnolls and stalls as they did, until they’d gotten back to the streamside passage. Rainbow noticed her feathers had ruffled a touch and quickly smoothed them – she hadn’t much cared for how much the locals had been staring at them back there. “Bit of a coincidence, isn’t it?” Rainbow noted. “To just happen to bump into one?”
Twilight shrugged. “Kind of? Technically, I can think of a brace of different things that could’ve helped, and across all of them they’re not too rare – they’re just faaar too expensive in most cases; a sliver’s one of the few things I could’ve afforded, but...” She slouched, dejected. “They’re not selling.”
Rainbow wasn’t certain what to say to that – the sire was obviously upset with Twilight’s attempt to buy it, so there was no chance of changing his mind now. “Maybe we can find another? I mean, if there’s one here, maybe there’re chunks of others around, too.”
“It doesn’t really work like that,” Twilight mumbled, but gave Rainbow another soft smile. “It’s alright – I’ll get over it.”
Rainbow wasn’t exactly happy about that, but as there wasn’t anything to be done about it, she dropped the subject. They were well past the spiral stairwell now and the walls had started to take on an angular, blocky appearance; they were still clearly well-maintained, but had a more natural curve and lustre to them, as though cut by tools built for efficiency above all else. “It’s just the bits around the first cuts that’re still like this, right?” Rainbow asked, hoping to steer the conversation back to tamer grounds. “All rough and stuff, I mean.”
“Mmhmm,” Raster nodded as she and Squirrel slowed down a touch to let them walk astride. “Part of the looks of it. The woven history in our warren isn’t too extensive – there’re a lot of warrens throughout the city with other bits – but should be more than worth the trip.”
Rainbow didn’t doubt it – she was looking forward to seeing a real gnollish history tableau! She’d been wondering what one had looked like for ages now.
Raster suddenly took a hard right and disappeared down a narrow passage that Rainbow hadn’t even realized was there at first. “Come along,” she called back to them. “It’s just down here.”
Catching up, Rainbow saw she was leading them down a steep stairwell, lit only by shards set near the floor. “Moody,” she mumbled as she joined the others in descending.
“It is rather atmospheric, isn’t it,” Twilight agreed, pausing a moment to lean down and check out one of the lights. “Oh! That’s neat – they’re in little polished dugouts.”
“Helps reflect the light back,” Raster agreed, looking once more relaxed. “Some greyfurs had this set up a few decades back – said it built things up better.”
They carried on down the stairwell for several long minutes, passing no one else along the way. “We must be quite deep by now,” Twilight observed. “Not looking forward to the climb back up.” Even with her newfound fitness, all those steps were going to be rough.
“You’ll manage,” Raster said.
“I wouldn’t’ve thought the warren would’ve started so far below the surface,” Twilight continued. “If nothing else, the ventilation problems should’ve been staggering.”
Raster once again seemed pleased by her interest. “You can’t see it from here, of course, but we’re not too far from a cliff face – there’ll be light enough in a minute. The main reason though are the faults here – although its course has drifted, that stream you saw upstairs still runs down through channels in the cuts; since getting free-flowing water anyway underground can be quite difficult, setting up a new warren with good light, air and water already in place was irresistable.” The dam sounded like she was reciting from rote, but Twilight could hardly blame her – all that would’ve happened long before she was born.
“Is there any need to actually stay underground? I mean, wouldn’t it just be easier to stick near the surface where everything already is?” Twilight knew the simple answer, of course – it was both cultural and instinctive to gnolls – but couldn’t help herself asking the question anyways.
“Wyverns,” Raster answered. “At least, in this range. Mountains are always home to something nasty, if you’re near the good minerals.”
Rainbow perked up beside her. “There are dragons around here?” Her tail swished gently behind her. “Like, pyre and everything?”
“Fond of gnolls and dragons, eh?” Raster chuckled. “Just wyverns, though – up top, near the farms; they keep their distance, and we keep ours.”
“You know much about dragons?” Squirrel asked. “Or is this just your books speaking?”
Rainbow shot her a glare. “I know dragons! Lots of them! Or about them, anyways. Spike’s a dragon, so I know some stuff.”
Squirrel snorted. “There’s no way a dragon would be called ‘Spike.’”
“He is too! Tell her, Twi.”
Twilight fought the urge to sigh. “Spike’s a pyre dragon back home. I can’t pronounce the name his mum gave him, but somehow or other everyone started calling him ‘Spike,’ and the name stuck.”
“I would not recommend visiting these ones, pony,” Raster cautioned. “They bite.”
The stairs ended abruptly, spilling them out into a wide hallway; the walls were covered in glassy-smooth divots, as though the stone was scooped out, and not cut. Sunlight looked to be pouring into a large room ahead. “It’s pretty plain at this entrance,” Raster said, looking for the first time a bit self-conscious. “But come! It’s nicer further in.”
Squirrel found she’d rather enjoyed their little tour through the cuts. “I’m surprised the dyes held up so well,” she said as they laboured their up a different, wider stairwell back to the main concourse.
“Oh, it’s mostly sunlight that causes tapestries to lose their colour,” Twilight chirped before Raster could answer. “And there’s so little down here, of course.”
“Just so, yes,” Raster nodded. She had picked up considerably during the tour, which was nice – it was abundantly clear to Squirrel that the dam really was a chaperon of sorts, and probably didn’t want to be leading them around otherwise.
“Finally got to see some fancy gems, too,” Rainbow half-muttered.
Raster frowned at her. “Crest’s work is of equal quality; gems simply do not have their lustre until worked.”
“I know, I know,” Rainbow assured her. “Although you can’t convince me that that slivery thingy would ever look worth it.”
Raster looked like she wanted to protest the point at first before simply giving a shrug. “No, I suppose not. Whatever it may be, it’ll always look like just another chunk of rock crystal. I never asked Crest why he had it.”
“Sparks says they have magical uses,” Rainbow continued, oblivious to Twilight’s sudden hunted look. “Isn’t that right, Twi?”
Twilight looked like she didn’t know if she should answer or not. “Uhh...”
“Exactly!” Rainbow said, giving a prim nod. “Super magical! Has a big project at home for it and everything.”
“Subtle,” Raster drawled with a roll of her eyes. “But you’ll have to find one elsewhere.”
Rainbow nodded along dolefully. “No kidding. Any ideas where we could find one? Ideally for, you know – cheap?”
Squirrel was fairly certain Rainbow’s paper-thin attempt at cajoling the dam was going to fail without at least a little help. “It’s alright if you don’t want us annoying anybody else over one,” she said, coming up on Raster’s other side. “We were rather abrupt back there, after all.”
Raster shifted her gaze between the two of them, clealy mulling things over before giving a snort. “Yeah, sure – why not. I was... well, perhaps a bit inattentive when Crest first received it?” Her jaw tightened as she blushed. “But I do recall him saying that the tom that had sent him it had originally hoped to get one for cheap from somewhere around Snowbound.”
Rainbow nodded sagely. “Cheap is good.”
Raster shrugged. “Apparently the dealer couldn’t get their paws on it – don’t know why though, and I’m definitely not about to admit to Crest I wasn’t paying attention.”
Squirrel’s attention, however, was still focused on Snowbound. “Might be able to get it ourselves? The one in Snowbound, I mean.”
Despite her ears perking up, Twilight looked skeptical. “That’s really far out of the way...” she trailed off uncertainly. “Plus, if Crest couldn’t get it, I don’t know what chance we would have.”
“It was the dealer, not Crest, that failed,” Raster hastily corrected her.
“It may’ve been for something trivial, too,” Squirrel added.
Twilight hummed, but kept silent.
At some point their stairwell had joined up with others into a wide, well-lit stepped thoroughfare; ahead loomed the very cavern from earlier, now all the brighter from the midday sun. They said their goodbyes to Raster, pausing to watch as she disappeared back down into the lower quarter, before continuing on upwards.
“Well that was nice,” Squirrel said, glancing between the two; neither seemed particularly inclined to respond. “I mean, we’re tourists, right? So seeing touristy things makes sense – the trip home doesn’t have to be an adventure.”
“Right,” Twilight slowly agreed. “It’d be far too far out of our way.”
“Exactly,” Squirrel nodded. She wouldn’t be opposed in the least to stopping off by Snowbound on the way home, but could hardly just come out and say it. “Best we go straight back to Wanderbelle – no detours.”
“Right,” Twilight said a little more hesitantly.
“What’s even in Snowbound, anyways?” Rainbow asked. “Just a bunch of airship stuff?”
“Yep,” Squirrel said. “Some major manufactorums there – it’s way up in the mountains, but obviously that’s not a problem if your ships fly. Lots of rich iron and tin mines in the area, too. It’s really very boring.”
“You’re not being very sneaky, you know,” Twilight grumbled.
Squirrel just shrugged. “I know people there that I haven’t seen in ages – a detour’s fine by me.”
Twilight continued her grumble.
“Any dragons?” Rainbow asked, though it sounded like a question born more of habit than interest. “It doesn’t sound like we’ll be able to check out the ones here; the warren was cool and all but also kinda dull?” She blushed and shot a worried look over her withers. “I mean, super neat and all, but... yeah.”
“There’s always dragons in the mountains if you look hard enough,” Squirrel noted. She had to speak up as they entered the cavern proper and the found themselves inundated in the sudden noise of the daytime market. “Don’t think there are many nearby, though. It’s sort-of kind-of underground sometimes? The peaks and faces aren’t exactly wide up there, so most of it cuts it way back and forth from one side to the other.”
Rainbow hummed contemplatively.
They carried on in silence as they continued their rough tour of the market. Before leaving, Raster had mentioned there were a series of inns near the far side, dug into the rock where it was quiet; they were making their slow way there.
“It probably wouldn’t add too much time to the trip,” Twilight eventually said; she followed immediately with a loud sigh. “But it’s not like we’ve anything to go on – I can’t see how it wouldn’t just be a waste of time.”
They paused by a tall, wide tower near the market’s centre. Looking up, Squirrel could make out the occasional pegasus or gryphon land or take off on one of its many platforms. She’d been up a few such structures before, but only ever for the view. “So where do they form, anyways?” she asked, sitting and slumping against one of its thick struts. “Might help us find one.”
The other two joined her, shucking aside their panniers as they found a seat next to her. “Well, as Crest had said they form occasionally at grand leylines.” Twilight paused to root around for a canteen and take a pull. “The mana there can be so dense that it reaches a sort of tipping point and condenses into something solid. The mechanism behind it isn’t really understood, though – most of what is known is mythological, and far too contextual to be of any use to us right now.”
“And that’s what the Everfree is, isn’t it?” Rainbow asked as she munched away on a snack. “A grand thingy, I mean.”
“Yes,” Twilight nodded. “A grand ‘thingy.’”
They sat and people-watched for a while, not feeling in any particular hurry. Squirrel was fairly content with how things were going – even if they didn’t end up detouring, it was still kind of fun to play tourist with the others. She’d tried travelling to places just to see the sights before, but found that whenever she was on her own, nothing she saw felt... fulfilling, she supposed.
It was nicer when others were present.
“So how’s a sliver going to help?” Squirrel asked idly. “‘Anchor’ is a bit vague.”
Twilight didn’t answer at first, instead taking to awkwardly kneading the ground. “Well... I’m still working on that,” she mumbled. “But I know it can! All my instincts and notes are saying that if I can just get a dense enough ball of mana, I can entangle and ensnare the Everfree leys in it; if I can do that, then the blasted forest will stop moving around and disrupting all the magic around it.” She finished with a loud huff and averted her face.
Silence followed. “Alright,” Squirrel said after a few moments. “A bit of a shaky plan, I’ll admit. There’s no harm in trying, though – right?” She hoped she wasn’t being annoyingly optimistic.
“Exactly!” Rainbow chirped. “You’ll never know if we don’t try, and we can’t try until we get a sliver! So if it’s not, like, a billion bits, then we should totally just get one – and so what if it doesn’t work? We’ll just find something else!”
Twilight gave a put-upon sigh, belied by her growing smile. “Fiiine,” she huffed. “We’ll go to Snowbound, then.”
“Alriiight!”
Twilight stepped up the threshold to a tidy-looking inn. They were in a wide, low tunnel, lit by paper-globed lanterns hanging from thin wires overhead; inns and taverns made up the bulk of the buildings either side, carved almost entirely into the stone. Despite the complete lack of sunlight here, the area was anything but claustrophobic – it looked to her like a great deal of effort had been put into making the surface-born traders and travellers comfortable – it was both well-lit and dotted with planters full of ferns and other low-light plants.
“Think they’ll have something here?” Rainbow asked as they strode inside; this was the third inn they’d checked out, the others being all full up.
Squirrel hummed. “We’ll find something – if nothing else, there’s bound to be something open further in.”
Seeing that it was a gnoll behind the cluttered office-counter, Twilight slowed down to let Rainbow take the lead. “Looks decent here,” she said, taking a look around. “Simple, but clean.”
“About the best thing an inn can be, aye,” Squirrel agreed.
The two of them were still hovering near the door, a few paces from Rainbow, but far enough to let her speak on her own. “Never was very good with ‘dogs,” Twilight muttered to Squirrel. “Or gryphons – could never get the hang of how aggressive they are.”
Squirrel chuffed. “Says the mare that’s friends with a dragon.”
“Spike’s different,” Twilight insisted. “All dragons are, really – you just need to remember to make it abundantly clear that you’re not going to take anything.”
“And what about the ones in the mountains that threaten to bite anyone that goes by?”
“Trespass is theft, to some,” Twilight replied distractedly before raising her voice. “All good, Dash?”
“Yeah,” Rainbow smiled. She was leaning easily against the counter, the gnoll staring at them owlishly over her shoulder. “Price is good, too – you’ve got the bits?”
“Drams,” Twilight nodded, and in short order they’d gotten their room booked – just the one with a double-bed, but they figured they’d sort it out later.
It was little later that saw them seated in a small dinner restaurant, not too far off the docks. “This all looks surprisingly normal,” Twilight said as she ran a hoof down her menu. “Bit like gryphon fare.”
“Fish, too,” Rainbow said, sounding pleased. “I’m definitely getting something I can’t pronounce.”
“Too risky for my tastes.”
Squirrel chuffed. “Aren’t we about to wander off to Snowbound in the hopes of finding a sliver? Sounds like ‘risky’ to me.”
“It’s different,” Twilight said, waving her off. “I hardly want to get sick because I ended up ordering, oh I don’t know, jellied eels or something.”
Rainbow gagged. “Ew.”
“‘Ew’ indeed.”
“Well, that was nice,” Twilight said. They were taking the long way back to their inn; it was dark outside now, as best as they could tell, but the market itself was no less busy. The day shops had closed, but alleys and streets that’d been empty during the day were now bustling and lit with warmth and colour. They’d toyed with the idea of popping in somewhere for a drink, but given how early they wanted to get back to the docks in the morning, had decided against it.
“The local stuff was worth, yeah,” Rainbow agreed. “Not much different than ‘Canum, I guess – but still.”
Squirrel hummed in agreement. “Have to go way further west than this if you want something really different – the gryphs on the coast there are a bit stubborn about their flavours.”
“Really?” Rainbow shot Twilight an eager glance.
Twilight sighed. “No, Dash, we’re not going to any of the cities there – we’ll never get home if we do.”
“Aww,” Rainbow pouted.
“There’s still some nice food up in Snowbound,” Squirrel said, giving her a shoulder bump. “Desserts, mostly, but still good stuff.”
Rainbow scoffed. “As if desserts would ever just be ‘mostly.’” She’d perked up nonetheless.
“Something we’ll find out in a couple days,” Twilight said. “Supposing any of the ships are heading up there tomorrow.”
“We’ll ask around – if no one’s leaving in the morning, someone will eventually,” Squirrel noted.
“Well, I’m hoping it’s a fair sight sooner than ‘eventually.’”
It wasn’t long before they were leaving the nightlife behind them and passing back into the narrow crevice that’d lead them back to their inn; walkways and gantries crisscrossed the cliffs above, the glow from their lanterns blotting out the night sky.
A cool breeze rustled back at them. “You know,” Twilight began, “while the market’s a bit much for me, this is kind of nice.”
“The warren was neat, too,” Rainbow agreed.
“There’s still the upper and lower sections as well,” Squirrel added. “Some big mines and processing sites down below; supposed to be a river down there – a real, proper fifty-metre-wide one and not just a bunch of canals – though that might just be a rumour.”
“So much to see and so little time,” Twilight mumbled in a sing-song voice. “Almost a pity we’re leaving so soon, sliver or not.”
“But isn’t it best like that?” Squirrel said earnestly. “That way you’ll never get bored and there’ll always be a reason to come back again later.”
Twilight snorted. “Once this is done, we’re heading back home – there won’t actually be a next time, no matter how much there is to do. The sentiment’s nice, though,” she added hastily, having seen Squirrel’s crestfallen look.
“Oooh I know that,” Squirrel said. “My two tourists’ll be off to hearth and home soon enough; surely you have vacations there, though – right?”
Rainbow snorted. “Twi? Vacation? Not a chance.”
“Hey!” Twilight reeled indignantly. “I’ve gone on vacations before!”
“Yuh huh. Liiike when?”
“I’ve gone to Lyonesse several times,” Twilight said primly. “And to Whittler.”
“Whittler doesn’t count,” Rainbow grinned at her. “And I know for a fact all those trips to Lyon’ and the lake were with family.”
“It’s still a vacation even if you’re with family, Dash.”
“It totally isn’t.”
“She’s right, Twilight,” Squirrel agreed with a solemn nod. “It really isn’t.”
Twilight sighed. “Well, I’ll just have to go on a proper vacation when I get back, then, won’t I?”
“Deal!” Rainbow shouted, her grin getting ever wider. “We’ll go to Cloudsdale first, then we’ll hit up Rustle – I’ve heard there’s this place there that does the best omelettes!”
As Rainbow continued planning their next vacation, Twilight could only slouch and wonder what she’d just gotten herself into.
“But this is a vacation, isn’t it?” The market-cavern was dim, only just barely illuminated by the coming dawn. Twilight would’ve liked to have gotten up even earlier than this, but Squirrel had assured her that none of the ships would’ve left this early – either they’d’ve finished loading up and left for some place to heave-to for the night, or were planning on getting a proper night’s rest before leaving.
“We came here for business, though,” Rainbow insisted as they started up the long steps back to the port entrance. “So even though we’re vacationing now, that doesn’t mean it counts.”
“She’s right again, Twilight,” Squirrel agreed. “Just because you’re on vacation right now doesn’t mean you’re actually on vacation right now.”
“Exactly!”
Twilight didn’t know what was more upsetting – their ridiculous logic, or the fact that some small part of her could actually follow it. “Fine, then – fine. We’ll go on an even-more-proper vacation when we get back. Happy?”
“Yep!”
Soon, they found themselves walking once more past the terraced fountains and sculptures, the rustle and chatter of water far more audible this time over the thinner crowds; ripples of light danced across the stone, shining up from shards tucked out of sight.
“Pity the view’s kind of rough,” Twilight said as they passed it all by. “Have to keep craning my neck up just to see it.”
Rainbow pointed a wing to somewhere hidden in the darkness on the far side. “Couple balconies up there – probably meant to look at it from them.”
Twilight looked, but couldn’t make out anything in the gloom. “Something for next time,” she said, thinking back to what Squirrel had said.
“That’s the spirit,” Squirrel said distractedly as the passage opened back up abruptly, spilling them back out onto the docks. Even now, there was a great deal of movement as shadowed figures lurched and trotted about in the lamplight.
Twilight frowned as she looked up at the nearest of the berthed ships, still little more than a dark smudge in the sky. “Not looking forward to walking up and down those all morning.”
“All the more reason to sweet-talk the first captain we find,” Squirrel said, surging forwards as she took point, heading back the way they’d come the day before. “Let’s go.”
Not for the first time Twilight found herself little able to imagine being able to do this back in Equus – the mere idea of simply waltzing onto someone else’s ship (and a business one at that!) and asking for a lift would’ve seemed utterly ridiculous, and not least because she’d be too embarassed to even try. Here, though, it was near enough the norm that it little bothered her.
It helped, too, that she wasn’t the one leading.
They were midway up a startlingly-rickety stretch of scaffolding when they stopped at the base of a gangway; on the other side was a small trisail, barely fifty feet long. “This would be a ketch, right?” Twilight wondered aloud as she glanced down at the ship’s name – the Windrock. “With the two masts set like that?” She was already fairly certain she was correct, but didn’t want to flub her terms in front of the crew.
“Mmhmm. Don’t worry about the terms, though – anyone can read a book and know ‘em; just show that you’re willing to work and learn.”
“That, I can do.”
They crossed onto the ship and stepped off into the cockpit set just fore of the mizzen. The deck shifted slightly as the craft adjusted to their weight, as faint sounds emanated from the open companionway.
“Well,” Squirrel said, taking a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.”
They’d gotten lucky – the pair that owned the ship were leaving that morning, and were heading off past Weld to boot; unfortunately, this meant they’d need to find yet another craft to carry them on from there. “Are many ships passing between the two cities, then?” Twilight asked.
Riga – a lithe hen with curiously dark plumage – shrugged. “Always are; even if there’s not, we’re not taking you a mile further.”
“Yeeeah,” Rainbow agreed, nodding slowly. “This old bucket would probably fall and crash if you pushed it too hard.”
Twilight tried her best not to roll her eyes as Rainbow and the hen fell to arguing; as much as she knew that this was the norm for gryphons, it still seemed so... needlessly abrasive.
The hen’s partner – a small earth colt – poked his head up out of the companionway; seeing what was going on, he sighed before climbing out and sitting down next to Twilight. “Are you three in any kind of hurry,” he asked, ignoring the other two. “If it’s an emergency, we might be able to help.”
“Oh no, it’s nothing like that,” Twilight assured him. “If we’re stuck waiting in Weld for a little while, it’s no harm done.” It would be dreadfully dull, certainly – Weld was just a tiny lakeside town whose only claim to fame was being a pit stop on one of the main trade routes – but a small delay wouldn’t really affect anything.
“Well that’s good, then,” the colt – Cloudy Fen – said, leaning back comfortably. “Saves us the fuss.”
Twilight was going to keep talking – the more she did, the more at ease she’d be around them – but found herself thoroughly distracted by the bickering. “I’ve always been lousy at that,” she said, her voice barely audible over Rainbow’s insistence that she could tow the Windrock blindfolded if she wanted to.
“Towing ships?” Cloudy asked.
It took a moment for Twilight to register the comment. “Hmm? Oh, no – snipping back, I mean.”
“Mmm,” the colt nodded, turning back to Rainbow and Riga, the latter of whom was now insulting Rainbow’s preening. “Grow up in the lowlands or something?”
There weren’t much in the way of gryphons back in Canterlot. “Something like that.”
The colt clucked his tongue. “We’ll take you as far as Weld; should be there by mid-afternoon.”
Squirrel spoke up for the first time. “Need any help?”
“No – the weather should be fair,” Cloudy said, waving her off before leaning forwards to give Riga a poke in the flank. “Oi – let’s get ready to go.”
The hen immediately dropped her banter and gave him a beaky smile. “Sure, sure – you’re with me, tie-dye,” she said, hopping off her bench and back onto the deck.
“Real clever,” Rainbow snorted as she followed close.
“I guess I’ve got the helm,” Cloudy muttered. “You two feel free to just sit cozy – we’ll be on our way in a jiffy.”
The finsail spars unfolded with nary a squeak as they drifted away from the dock. There were four of them – two on either side – to complement the main and mizzen; this gave the ship a top-heavy look to it, but Squirrel knew full well that it wasn’t in any danger of tipping. There wouldn’t actually be much in the way of anything to do along the way – with all the lines running to the cockpit, a single hand could’ve sailed the ship if the weather was good; nevertheless, she found herself casting about for something to do.
“You sure there isn’t anything that needs doing?” She was sitting on the rear lip of the cockpit, comfortably out of reach of any sudden gybe. The other three were chatting somewhere below deck – from the looks of it Riga had liked Rainbow enough to let them down – so it was just her and Cloudy up top. “Maybe some really jammed-up knot to undo?”
“You’ll live,” Cloudy grunted with a shake of his head. “What’re the three of you up to up in Snowbound, anyways? Just vacationing?”
“I guess we do have that look about us, don’t we,” Squirrel admitted, leaning back. She cast her gaze out over the sides; below them ran the very same river they’d come in over yesterday, while tall, tree-covered mountains traced them on the left. It wasn’t the quickest route, backtracking as they were, but when you’re hitching a ride it’s best not to criticize.
She gave her head a sharp shake, her mane swirled about her face in an errant cross-breeze. “I’m heading off homewards,” she said, gesturing off to port. “Over in Wanderbelle. The other two are heading home too, but elsewhere; we figured it’d be fun to play tourist for a bit on the way back.”
“Fair enough.” He seemed content to leave it at that.
Squirrel did her best to restrain herself. On the rare occasion she was on a ship small enough to sail, she always liked to do just that – it was fun in a way that simply snoozing in the sun wasn’t.
But as the two sailors hadn’t even asked for pay, she could hardly justify pestering them.
“Sooo,” she tried instead. “Where’re you and Riga from?”
“Little ways thataway,” he shrugged, gesturing vaguely westwards before falling silent again.
Squirrel sighed; hopefully the others were having more luck passing the time.
“I still don’t think it’s any good.” Rainbow sat heavily on the low tableside bench, its cushions worn and soft. “I mean, yeah – it tastes good, sure, but if you’re not grinding the beans yourself, it just doesn’t count.”
Riga stared at her over her coffee. “Are you insane?” She gave Twilight a pointed look. “Is she insane?”
“Probably,” Twilight agreed good-naturedly. “But I kind of understand – pre-ground just doesn’t have the same feel.”
“Exactly,” Rainbow nodded. “This coffee doesn’t feel right; plus, it’s all wet,” she added as an afterthought, taking a slow sip.
“It’s not wet,” Riga huffed before blinking and clicking her beak. “Or it is, I guess – whatever. The point is, my coffee’s great.”
“Mmph,” Rainbow burbled mid-sip.
Twilight was likewise busy with her drink, huddled as she was in the corner of the bench, back against the galley. Rainbow gave her a friendly nudge with her hoof, getting a smile in return – she could never understand how someone as smart as Twilight could be so awful with strangers, yet here she was.
“Any idea how you two’re getting back?” Riga asked, interrupting her reverie. “Most ships take the western route out’ve Snowbound – not many’ll cycle back to Weld.”
Rainbow shrugged easily. “We’re off to Wanderbelle after this, anyways – it’ll work out.”
“Speaking of,” Twilight said, setting down her mug as she began rooting through her panniers. “We should probably sort out the details of that.”
“Uh huh,” Rainbow nodded as Twilight found the thick mapbook she was looking for. “It’s fine if we don’t; I mean, we’ll make it work out somehow or other – we always do.”
“Well, a stitch in time saves nine,” Twilight mumbled as she unfolded a trio of maps across the table.
“You three are time-travellers now?” Riga asked, giving the maps a curious look. “Shouldn’t be a problem getting back, then, I should think.”
“We’re trying not to cheat.” Twilight tapped a booted hoof on one of the maps. “Squirrel made it sound like ships regularly go from here, through here, to here.” She traced a line from Snowbound widdershins down the Myr river, then west towards Wanderbelle. “After that we should be able to get a ship to cut south to Calendar through this canyon.”
Riga grunted and nodded. “You’ll have it easy on the main routes, aye. Might take a week to find someone heading south, though.”
“Ah,” Twilight wilted. “Not a common route, I take it.”
Riga shrugged. “Plenty common by boat.”
“We can boat it, then?” Rainbow suggested. “That sounds like fun.”
“Yeees,” Twilight said, somewhat hesitantly. “There’s that.”
“Well, there we go! Route planned.”
Twilight grumbled, but didn’t contest; nevertheless, her eyes continued darting all over the map. As she was clearly deadset on over-analysing their plans, Rainbow figured she’d try to just leave her to it.
Settling further into her cushions, she took a long drink of her almost-but-not-quite too hot coffee. “So, Sharptack, eh?”
Riga looked up from the maps and blinked at her. “Hmm? Yeah – born and raised.”
“I think Sparks here said you got some neat-looking buildings up there, right?” Rainbow gave Twilight a nudge as she tried to get her involved.
“Post-khanate traditional,” Twilight mumbled, shrinking away from the poke as she fiddled around for her logbook.
Rainbow gave an exasperated sigh. “The maps can wait, can’t they? But, yeah, anyways – post-khanny buildings.”
Riga side-eyed Twilight, a small frown forming before disappearing just as quickly. “Yes. Far more colourful than a lot of what I see out here.”
“Oh yeah, totally – it’s all moss and thatch here, isn’t it.”
“And shingles.”
Rainbow snorted. “Brown and green. Hardly original.”
“I couldn’t travel for a living, no,” Riga agreed. “Me and Fen are just off on work. Something fascinating in there?” She asked this last to Twilight, who still had her muzzle buried in her logs – so much so that she didn’t even notice the question.
Rainbow leaned over to give her a sharp poke in the side.
Twilight started, shooting her a glare before noticing Riga. “Oh! Sorry,” she said, looking sheepish as she closed her book. “Did you say something?”
“Yes,” Riga said shortly, continuing to frown at her as she drummed her talons on the teak tabletop.
Twilight opened her mouth, but couldn’t seem to think of anything to say; she settled for looking embarassed instead.
“Sooo,” Rainbow tried, hoping to bail her out. “How’re the maps going?”
“Good, good,” Twilight said, still with a blush as she set her logs aside. “But it can wait.”
Twilight gave a sigh of relief as she spotted Weld on the horizon. Try as she might, she just couldn’t seem to emulate the ease the other two had with strangers; worse, she was beginning to feel distinctly unwelcome.
“It’s kinda small,” Rainbow said, her voice nearly in her ear. They were on the bow, the jib having been furled not long ago. It was windy here, but peaceful.
“Well, it is supposed to be a little stop-over place – nothing more.”
“Still, though,” Rainbow insisted, squinting out at the distant town. “It’s, what, like a few dozen buildings? And a bunch of farms?”
“You tell me.” Weld was still just a bluey blob with spots of whitish houses to Twilight. “As long as they’ve got somewhere to pick up some food and spend the night if we need to, it should be just fine.”
“Heh,” Rainbow chuckled dryly. “Remember Cherry?”
Twilight snorted. “You have to admit, the inn there was pretty good; that, and maaaybe they weren’t really all just a bunch of rubes, either, even if the place was absolutely rural.”
“Aww, look at you! Getting all cultured and stuff.” Rainbow grinned at her as though she’d just won something.
“I’m pretty sure you found them just as distasteful, Dash,” Twilight said, giving her a nudge. “You wouldn’t even let me out of eyesight.”
“Well, yeah – sure,” Rainbow admitted easily enough. “But that’s just ‘cause I didn’t want you to feel spooked.”
Twilight frowned. “I wasn’t spooked.”
“Yuh huh.”
“I was being prudent – there’s a difference,” she insisted.
“Yuh huuuh.”
“Nevertheless!” Twilight huffed. “This town looks fine; with a little luck, we’ll hardly be stuck here at all.”
The three of them stood together at the base of the airdocks, huddled against the chilly night air. Barely visible above them lay the Windrock, safely moored in her berth; the two sailors had tucked themselves safely aboard, leaving the three of them on their own.
“Would’ve been nice to let us stay with them til morning,” Rainbow grumbled, shooting a glare back at the ship. “Not like they’re leaving til then.”
“Be a bit close in there,” Squirrel countered, though her heart clearly wasn’t in it. “Would’ve been the floor for us.”
“It’s their ship to do with as they please,” Twilight pointed out. “We’ll find something here easily enough, I’m sure.”
“Yeah – it’s not like there’ll be many places to check before we’ve seen the whole town,” Rainbow nodded. Without even asking, she began shucking her weightier flank-satchels. “Mind if I scout things out? I can catch back up with you two once I find something.”
“It’s not much of a question if you’re just going to do it anyways,” Squirrel muttered; nevertheless, she stepped over to drape the satchels across her back.
“It’s polite!” Rainbow called as she took off in a run. With the slope as it was, it only took a few strides and a couple good pumps to get her airborne, the tips of the long, yellowy grasses tickling her fetlocks before she climbed above them.
The town opened up below her, looking much the same as when the ship had flown over earlier. A great, steep-sided mesa rose just to the west, its scree- and till-strewn slopes running nearly to the town itself, while just to the east ran a shallow river, its waters flowing fast to a great lake not far to the south. Trees and grassy plains ran in equal measure in all directions, dotted and cut-up with farms and orchards.
Weld itself looked like any other mining town. Rainbow could make out a fair few adits and shafts all along the cliffs, with rails running down to a modest riverside dock; the town itself was, otherwise, not a hundred buildings or so in size. What streetlamps it had were just starting to be lit as she finished her nice, slow circle.
“Square, there,” she muttered distractedly to herself, her thoughts already turning to the morrow – even now there were a couple of likely-looking airships hovering in their moorings, waiting til the morn to resupply or leave. “Too many floors for a house,” she carried on, gaze flicking over a stately-looking structure. After eying another spot or two, she started her descent; luckily, Twilight had her horn lit up as a minute beacon in the gloom.
“There she is.” Squirrel paused midstep, her head craned up at the evening sky. “She does blend in well, doesn’t she.”
“Her tail always betrays her,” Twilight said, horn aglow as it had been for the past few minutes. “The jacket doesn’t help, either.”
Squirrel hummed in agreement. She couldn’t help but find herself once again appreciating just how useful a winged companion was on these trips – odds were good she’d’ve been wandering around for the better part of an hour before finding somewhere to kip otherwise.
They stepped off the main path – just smooth, beaten dirt with the occasional wooden beam as a sort of step – and onto a flattened grassy bit. “Hopefully there’s food at the inn.”
“Mmhmm,” Twilight agreed. “Supplies are more than good enough, but a cooked dinner would definitely be nice.”
“Probably have some decent local drinks, too,” Squirrel continued. “Mead or cider or something.” She was cut off by Rainbow landing with a soft thump on the grass.
“Found a couple places, maybe,” Rainbow said, glancing questioningly between the two of them and the path forwards. “Let’s go?”
“You’re in a hurry,” Twilight said as they carried on down the path and into the town proper.
“Don’t know which one’s the inn, and the town’s more spread out than I thought – might take a while.”
Pleasantly for them it hadn’t, with the sky only just falling dark as they nosed open the door to their room. Crossing over to the window, Twilight pushed it open and poked her head out; before her lay what probably constituted the town plaza, simple and dusty though it was.
Rainbow’s voice piped up behind her. “Kinda wish we’d gotten to see the dragons.”
“They’d’ve eaten you,” Squirrel said, pointing out the rather obvious flaw to the plan.
Rainbow shrugged. “We’d’ve worked something out. Somehow.”
“‘Something’ as in hiding behind a boulder?”
“That’d help against the fire,” Twilight said, turning away from the view. “But once you’ve broken line-of-sight against something that flies, things’ve just gotten a whole lot worse for you.”
“I guess...” Squirrel admitted begrudgingly. “But dragons aside, are we really doing this? Going to Snowbound on a mad hunt for a magical rock, I mean.”
“Of course!”
“It’s called a sliver,” Twilight frowned. “And yes – I mean, why not? We can always get back again if things don’t work out.”
“Yeah!” Rainbow added, giving Squirrel a poke with her wing. “Don’t you want to go back, anyways? I’m pretty sure I remember you saying you knew people there.”
“Well, yes – I haven’t seen my parents in ages,” Squirrel shrugged, rubbing her arm awkwardly. “Just want to make sure you two don’t end up regretting the detour.”
Rainbow scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Have some faith, why don’t ya.”
“It’ll be fine,” Twilight assured her, giving her a nudge of her own. “There are plenty of ships leaving Snowbound for the main routes, right? Getting home won’t be an issue.”
“Yeah,” Squirrel nodded. “Yeah.”
“Is it the fam?” Rainbow asked, ears perked in curiosity. “We can avoid them if we need to, can’t we?”
Squirrel snorted, a much more relaxed smile on her face. “No, no – it’s not that; the opposite, really – every time I visit, they try real hard to convince me to stay. Once they find out I’m between jobs, there’s no way they won’t try all the harder.”
“How awful,” Twilight drawled.
“Yeah,” Rainbow agreed. “Imagine that – we wouldn’t even have to go all the way to Wonderbum if you just stayed there with your folks.”
“It’s ‘Wanderbelle,’” Squirrel said with an exasperated sigh. “And all my stuff is there, anyways, so I’d have to go back at least once.”
“Shoot.”
Squirrel gave her a playful shove. “Right – we getting something to eat, or what?”
Twilight awoke to the morning glow bleeding through the thin drapes. Despite the lack of any sort of heating in the inn, they hadn’t even needed the duvet – with all three of them jammed into a single bed, it’d been more than warm enough.
She rolled out from under the thin covers and off into the onsuite – it was a pleasant surprise yesterday to find the room even had one – but the others were still barely awake when she stepped back into the room.
“Up!” Twilight commanded. “Roust! Arise! We’re wasting daylight.”
“Mmph,” Rainbow moaned as she wiggled about. Squirrel, on the other hoof, was a great deal faster, already crawling out of bed to quickly splash some water on her face.
Although it took a little more poking to get Rainbow up, it was still barely a quarter-hour later that found them stepping back onto the street.
“Well that was nice,” Twilight said conversationally as they started back up the hill to the docks. “Cozy, at any rate.”
“Quaint, yes,” Squirrel agreed, smiling coyly.
Twilight chuffed. “Yes – definitely. Still, uhh, a bit too quiet for my tastes, I think.”
“Too sleepy for me, too, if it comes to that.”
“Wanderbelle’s much bigger?”
“Denser, certainly – loads of traffic moving through it too, so it feels way bigger.”
Twilight nodded along. “Makes sense. Sweet Apples it much the same way, really – tiny population, but all the through-traffic makes it feel busier.”
At some point during the night another much larger airship had moored itself some ways from the main docks – so much so that she was held in place low to the ground via mighty anchors, their thick rodes visible even from afar, rather than in any manner of scaffolding.
“Worth a try?” Rainbow asked, gesturing towards the multi-balloon dirigible.
“Might be the only one,” Squirrel said as she cast her gaze at the trio of smaller ones in the dock. “Those other two look more like pleasure-craft than the kind of thing we’re looking for.”
“We should still check them out first,” Twilight said, steering them towards the main stairwell at the base of the airdock. “That large one’s not going anywhere for a while, I’ll bet.”
Unfortunately, Squirrel had been right. “Well that sucks,” Rainbow grumbled as she hopped off the second ship and back onto the dock. She fidgeted in place as the other two crossed the slow way, already eager to try out the dirigible.
“Told ya.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rainbow continued to grumble. “Can’t believe anybody would want to actually stay here.”
“Could be a decent vacation spot for some,” Squirrel countered, spinning slowly in place as she took in the scenery around them. “Pretty good views, and the grassland’s not too thick for walking.”
“‘Too thick for walking’?” Rainbow scoffed. “How the heck can grass be too thick for walking?”
“Well, you know,” Squirrel said, waving a hoof airily. “Too thick. All the stems poke you in the barrel and get in the way and you have to push your way through.”
“That would be ‘too dense,’” Twilight corrected her as she led the way back down the nearest stairwell. “Maybe by ‘thick’ you meant ‘thicket’?”
“Sure,” Squirrel nodded. “Let’s go with that.”
“Easy bailout,” Rainbow muttered. A faint breeze picked up, rustling her mane and tail; the day was looking to be a clear one, as what few clouds there were were visibly blowing away east.
They reached the bottom, pausing for a moment to reorient themselves before picking a path that looked like it’d probably reach the dirigible – what with the scattering of workshops and warehouses around them, they’d lost sight of it.
“What’re the odds it won’t suck?” Rainbow asked, mostly because it was too quiet at this time in the morning. “The one we took from ‘Canum kinda felt like it was falling apart in places.”
“Most of the ships around here are kind of rickety,” Squirrel answered. “The important thing is they don’t actually plummet.”
“I’m hearing a ‘yes it’s gonna suck’ right now.”
Squirrel snorted. “You know this entire detour was optional, right? We could’ve quite possibly been on a comfy ship enroute to Wanderbelle as we speak.”
“Nah – I bet that ship would’ve sucked, too.”
While the other two bickered, Twilight found herself caught up in planning out their next steps. She knew the whole thing was a long shot, but she still didn’t want to blow the chance – no matter how slim – of actually getting her hooves on a sliver.
Getting to Snowbound was simplicity itself at this point, as was getting back onto the convoys; that was the beginning and ending neatly accounted for. The middle bit was going to be a mite tricky, however, as all they had to go on was that they were seeking a tom in the precious stone business. “Squirrel,” Twilight said, interrupting her and Rainbow. “How many lapidaries are there in Snowbound? Or any other dealers in rare stones, for that matter.”
“I... don’t know, exactly,” Squirrel admitted. “Not so many that we can’t track them all down in a day or two, I think – the city’s not that big.”
Twilight nodded contemplatively. “Doable, then.”
“We’d still need to buy it,” Rainbow grumbled. “Hate to think how much that’ll cost.”
“I’m really hoping we can get it for mostly free – remember, it’s a useless lump of almost-quartz to most.”
Squirrel didn’t look convinced. “You’d have to bank on them not knowing that, or they’ll charge you through the muzzle for it.”
Twilight was hoping to avoid that, even though she hadn’t quite worked out how just yet. “We’ll deal with that when it happens, I suppose.” Hardly her preferred way of handling things, but she was trying to put off fretting about that for as long as possible.
As they rounded the corner of a particularly weatherworn warehouse, the great dirigible hove back into view. The ship had a more traditional appearance to it, consisting of only a single massive balloon; the decks themselves either hung below it or ran along the sides all the way to the top, making the envelope look as though it were trapped within a wood and wire latticework of platforms and cabins.
“Well,” Twilight said, unable to keep the skepticism out of her voice. “It looks very... stout.”
Squirrel looked at her with some amusement. “If it’s held up this long, it’ll hold a little longer.”
“Probably.”
“Yes – thank you Rainbow – it’ll probably hold up a little longer.”
Twilight sighed, but couldn’t find it within herself to point out that if they ship did go down, Squirrel was the one that was really at risk. “Let’s just find a way up there and ask for passage.”
In the end there wasn’t any actual way to get up there; the ship had a few tenders to ferry people to the ground and back, but as none of them were present all they could do was pick a spot that looked like it’d be pretty visible to the crew above and plunk themselves down until someone noticed them.
“You sure they won’t just tear it up without even checking first?” Rainbow asked as they settled down in the lee of one of the great anchors – even on her hinds she was barely half as tall as it.
Squirrel shook her head, taking a seat on one of the iron links that lay next to it. “Can’t – see how the anchor line is just lying in the grass for a ways before it even begins arcing upwards?”
“It’d be weird if I couldn’t,” Rainbow drawled.
“Well,” Squirrel ploughed on. “The angle that they’d be weighing at is way too low – they’d have to fly right on top of it, just about, if they didn’t want to end up digging it further into the ground.”
It looked to Rainbow like they’d have to do more of a circular shuffle to heave up all four of the things, but she supposed that really just gave them even more time to be spotted.
Of course, she could also just fly on up and say hello, but given how rude that normally was, they’d agreed to try waiting first.
“It shouldn’t take too long,” Twilight said from where she was lying against her propped up panniers. “You’re safe to just head back to sleep in the meantime, if you like.”
While a part of Rainbow didn’t care for the typecasting, the other part was still sleepy. “Nap sounds good,” she said, heading for the nearest spot free of dew. If she was lucky the sun would be up and warming her before the crew noticed them – she really was tired.
A dull thrum from somewhere nearby woke Rainbow from her sleep. Sitting up and blinking blearily, she found that the sun had, indeed, risen at some point. Getting back to her hooves, she shook herself briskly before circling around to the far side of the anchor, where the sound seemed to be coming from.
The other two were already there and staring up at a slowly descending tender, itself looking like a large dinghy with two tube-like balloons on outriggers either side. The hum came from a small zephyric propeller jutting out the rear.
“Up, eh?” Squirrel said, favouring her with a small smile. “Although I can’t imagine you sleeping through this racket.”
“Not that tired,” Rainbow grunted.
“They don’t look annoyed, do they?” Twilight asked, shooting her a worried glance.
“Nah – we’re good.”
As the tender came close the noise cut off abruptly as they killed the motor and coasted slowly the rest of the way to the ground.
“Hello there!” Squirrel called, taking point once they were near. A pair of heads peaked over the side.
“What do you want?” a dark-feathered hen shouted to them. “And you’d better not’ve scratched our anchor!”
“I think they want a lift,” the mare next to her drawled, her voice just barely carrying down to them.
“That’s about right,” Squirrel said, seemingly unbothered by their brusqueness. “Up to Snowbound, if you’re headed that way.”
The hen gave them the gimlet eye as the tender drifted to an unsteady halt a few metres off the ground. “Sure we are; don’t know if the captain wants a couple of layabouts on board, though.”
“We don’t have much room right now,” the mare clarified as she looked down on them appraisingly. “We’re dead full on cargo – just stopping here to get the ‘trine charged back up.”
“We can pay,” Twilight called back up to them, frowning. “We’re not freeloaders.”
The hen grunted. “You want up, then? Can’t guarantee nothing, mind you.”
“That includes getting back down!” the mare added with a smirk.
“Unlikely,” Squirrel muttered, turning to face the other two. “You guys good to go up? I doubt they’re as hostile as they seem.”
“Probably just grumpy ‘cause it’s so dang early,” Rainbow mumbled as she nodded her assent.
Twilight hummed in agreement as they turned back to the dinghy. “Sounds good to us!” she called up.
The hen waved distractedly down to her before the two sailors’ heads disappeared from view; a few moments later the tender started to slowly descend the rest of the way to hover a couple feet above the ground, the tips of the long grasses just barely brushing the hull.
“‘Bout as low as we can get it,” the mare said, waving them over. “Come along, then.”
As it was easy enough to hop onboard at this height – even with their gear – Twilight quickly found herself settling in near the bow, Squirrel and Rainbow pressed in close beside her.
“So what’s bringing ya to Snowbound?” the mare asked curiously; behind her, the hen was fiddling with something – the prop, if Twilight had to guess. “Oh! I’m Emerald, by the way – that’s Rush.”
The hen grunted as she turned back to the wheel. With a stiff flick of a switch, the tender jerked momentarily beneath them before beginning to rise. “Nothing much,” Twilight hedged. “We’re just tourists.”
Rush scoffed, taking a moment to adjust a few of the tools in her mechanic’s vest before responding. “Tourists, eh? Joy.”
“Oh, don’t mind her,” Emerald said, waving her off with a tight smile. “She just thinks you’ll spend the entire trip complaining about the conditions.” She gave the three of them a pointed look.
Rainbow shrugged irreverently. “If we’ve a hammock or bunk or whatever, we’re good.”
“Hmm,” the mare frowned doubtfully. “You’ll still need to see the captain, either way.”
That seemed to be the extent of conversation the two of them were willing to entertain. The tender droned onwards, aiming for a particularly open series of platforms at the belly near the stern; somewhat ahead of that lay the main cargo hold – a wide and deep multi-leveled platform that roughly resembled the hull of a seafaring vessel.
“So...” Twilight began again, hoping to break the silence. “What kind of things do you transport, exactly?”
Rush just gave her an exasperated look and a shake of her head, but Emerald, at least, seemed willing to answer.
“Crates,” the steely-green mare said. “And barrels, occasionally.”
“That’s... what?” Twilight replied, nonplussed. “Crates and barrels?”
Emerald gave a put-upon sigh. “There’s stuff in them – ”
“Obviously,” Rush snorted.
“ – but if you’re not looking at the manifests? Crates and barrels.”
“Ah.” There didn’t seem to be much else to say to that.
The tender juddered as it bounced against the landing struts; Emerald tossed a line towards an awaiting stallion, the slack slapping Twilight in the muzzle. With an irritated huff, she hunkered down while the sailors finished getting them secured.
“All good?” Rainbow asked, giving her a little nudge.
Twilight nodded, hoping that things would pick up soon – thus far, this ship had hardly made a good first impression.
“Up you get, you three!” Rush gave a rough flap of her wings as she hopped out onto the narrow strut, the breeze from her wings ruffling the ponies’ manes. “No sense in dawdling.”
Quietly agreeing with her, Twilight followed, taking great care as she crossed the rounded outrigger-balloon. Stepping out onto the strut, she found herself little more at ease, as the platform was barely as wide across as she was. “Not much of a gangway,” she muttered.
“Saves on weight!” Rush boomed back at her from up ahead, where a little platform lay at the threshold of a worn wooden cabin. “That,” she added, bobbing her beak upwards at the envelope not more than a couple metres overhead, “has more important things to carry.”
Glancing back over her withers to check that the others were close behind, Twilight swiftly crossed over to the hen, taking care not to look down as she did. Rush clucked her tongue once she had, pulling open the door and disappearing into the dim interior without another word. “All good?” Twilight asked, eying Squirrel as she did.
“It’s fine,” Squirrel shrugged with forced nonchalance. “It’s not too windy, after all, and I’ve crossed things like that before.”
Twilight hummed, but left it alone – there was little point in undermining the mare. Squirrel squeezed past her, retaking the lead as they all went inside.
Once her eyes adjusted, Twilight found the room quite well-lit, with the starboard wall almost entirely composed of faintly-rattling windows. The rest of the room was utterly crowded, with everything from lines and fenders to ring-canisters and tool cabinets set hither and thither.
“Oi!” Rush called down to them from a narrow staircase nearly lost in the clutter. “Up here!”
“You don’t have to shout!” Rainbow called back to her. “We’re, like, ten feet away from you!”
“What!” the hen yelled back with a smirk. “I can’t hear you!”
Rainbow took a deep breath to – presumably – yell right back to her, but cut off abruptly with a poke from Squirrel. “That’s enough of that,” she grumbled.
Twilight spared them a glance before hurrying to catch up to Rush – by her reckoning, the sooner they found out if they could even barter passage at all, the better.
“What’s wrong with a bit of point-blank yelling?” Rainbow said behind her.
“I can’t believe you even have to ask that.”
The stairs were short and steep – Twilight found she needed to walk on her rears just to ascend; upon reaching the top, she found herself in a large room, bare struts and supports jutted out everywhere, while the ‘walls,’ such as they were, were made of canvas. There was a loud, omnipresent hum from the countless singers running all about, giving the air an electric taste.
The swish of a tail was all she saw of Rush, the hen already disappearing down a narrow corridor than ran along the inner skin. Checking again that the others were still with her, she crossed the room, weaving around the pipes and canisters that made up this part of the main celestine complex that was keeping them afloat.
“Always hate the smell of these things,” Squirrel said conversationally, her head tilted up at one of the ship’s many rigidity pumps.
“You get used to it,” Twilight said, shaking her head abruptly as she tried to get used to the much higher pressure inside the envelope. “All the mana does taste rather funny on the tongue, though, doesn’t it.”
The passage Rush had gone down ran right alongside the canvas; sunlight bled through – if only just – bathing everything in a dull, peachy glow.
“You ever think this is kinda dumb?” Rainbow piped up. “Like, being in a balloon, I mean.”
“It’s a distance thing,” Squirrel said, although Twilight could see she too looked skeptical. “Saves a huge amount on weight if you don’t need to build wooden walls and can just use canvas instead.”
“More aerodynamic than sailing ships, as well,” Twilight added. “Mind you, with all the extra building they’ve done around the outside, I can’t imagine that’s the case anymore.”
Squirrel nodded, glancing curiously down one of the many side-passages than ran port. “No kidding. Still, even with the positive-pressure arrays, the whole thing’s normally so much lighter that it’s worth it for super long distances.”
By this point they’d finally made it to the end – Twilight wouldn’t’ve been surprised if the corridor ran the entire length of the vessel – and found themselves in a pantry of sorts. Rush was leaning against a barrel of onions, waiting for them.
“Galley’s just below us,” the hen said, giving the floor a tap. “Mostly dry storage here; bunks are a little ways below.”
“Knew it!” Rainbow grinned, pushing past Twilight to begin poking around everything. “You need a cook? ‘Cause I can cook. Sorta.”
Twilight heaved a quiet sigh; she couldn’t read body language nearly as well as Rainbow could, but from the sounds of it, they’d be working this voyage.
“Nobody’ll say no to a good cook,” Rush shrugged. “We’ll find something for you other two to do. Still need to get the captain’s say-so, but we’re shorthanded enough I doubt he’ll say no.”
“Just need to meet them, then,” Rainbow agreed, looking inordinantly pleased with the situation.
On the bright side, it should only be for a couple of days.
The old tom scrutinized them as he leaned back in his rickety chair and nibbled at some jerky. Rush had taken them to a cabin right at the fore of the vessel, immediately connecting to the wide cockpit. Sunlight from the array of windows that ran around the adjacent room bled into the cramped captain’s cabin. What surfaces that weren’t covered in logbooks and furled admiralty charts were instead taken up by a small bed and desk.
The captain – Edgewise – grunted, tucking away his snack in a little pullout drawer before speaking. “I suppose we can handle another three hands on board,” he spoke in a comfortable drawl. “I’m sure Rush here has already told you that you’ll be working your fare? Little reason for you to just sit around idling the entire trip, I reason.”
Twilight hadn’t seen any problems with this – it’d help pass the time – and a quick discussion with the others along the way had made their own thoughts clear enough. “It sounds quite equitable,” Twilight confirmed, before deciding spur-of-the-moment to try for a little more. “I trust this means there’ll be no passage fee? It wouldn’t make much sense to work and have to pay.”
“Indeed,” Edgewise nodded, an easy smile on his beak. He sat back up abruptly and pulled open another drawer; after a moment’s shuffling he tugged out a thin booklet which he promptly opened up. “We’ll just need to find some jobs for you,” he began, drawing out a long, elegant-looking quill from its inkwell; that done, he cocked his head at them questioningly.
Rainbow shrugged. “Cook? Sounds like fun.”
Twilight shot a curious look at Squirrel – she was a cook, after all – but the mare didn’t seem bothered.
After a little back and forth they settled on Squirrel helping out with some issues with the cargo – apparently there’d been some sort of collapse that they were still cleaning up – while Twilight found herself stuck foalsitting the arcana. It was little later, then, that saw them once again trailing Rush through creaky corridors on a brief tour of the East Wind.
“Look at it this way,” Rainbow said, having noticed the glum expression on her face. “For all you know, they might have some sort of super-fancy enchanted thingies keeping us up – that could be neat.”
Twilight grunted. She wasn’t quite certain just what, exactly, she’d been expecting, but she’d been hoping for something less... predictable. “I suppose it could be nice seeing how they do things here,” she eventually admitted. “Although I doubt it’s any different from what I saw last time.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Ya know, Twi, if you tried a little harder you could probably have even less fun.”
“At least we’re saving money this way?” Squirrel tried.
“I know, I know,” Twilight sighed. “I’m not really grumpy – I just hate doing the stereotypical unicorn stuff, sometimes – that’s all.”
Rainbow snorted. “Yuh huh. Ya know, if you really want to do all the lifting and running around and stuff, you could try putting on some muscle.”
Squirrel coughed and tried poorly to hide her smile.
“I’ll have you know my body is perfectly capable of standard physical exertions,” Twilight said shortly, giving her a glare. “And I’ve got the charts to back that up.”
“Riiight,” Rainbow drawled, rolling her eyes. “Pretty sure Jack could hold you down with one hoof if she wanted to.”
“Seeing as she’s an earth pony, I hardly see anything wrong with that,” Twilight countered primly.
“Pretty sure I could hold you down with one hoof – ”
“Oh look, we’re here!” Twilight exclaimed, bounding forwards the final few paces; they’d arrived at their bunkroom – a long, low cabin on the starboard side, lined with narrow double-bunks either side. Small portholes let in the afternoon light, all the better to illuminate the interminable clutter strewn all about the place.
Rush was waiting for them. “If you three are done gabbing, these ones – “ she jerked her head towards a facing pair of beds – “are yours. You can toss your gear any old place – thieves are tossed overboard, so no one’ll take anything.” She gave them a pointed look. “You remember where the galley is? Yes? Good. I’ve got some stuff to do – meet me there after the next bell and we’ll get you to work.” That said, she strode purposely past them and back the way they’d come.
“Well, that was just plain rude,” Twilight muttered.
“Just noticing that?” Rainbow said, having already leapt up onto one of the top bunks.
Twilight tossed her packs onto the bed right below her before nosing around for a locker. “I meant more than earlier.”
“Probably just annoyed about something; didn’t feel like it was us, though.”
Twilight hummed, taking Rainbow’s word for it. Giving up on her search for stowage, she instead rolled onto her bed and started wiggling around, testing its comfort.
“Yours any good?” Squirrel asked from across the aisle. Glancing over, Twilight saw that the mare’d already curled up near the foot of her bunk, clutching her pillow to her chest.
Twilight did her best to shrug. “Better than I’d thought, worse than I’d hoped?”
“‘Bout right,” Rainbow grumbled from above. “Hey Squirrel?”
“Hmm?”
“Any tips for cooking? Like, professionally? I don’t gotta wear an apron or anything, right?”
Squirrel shot her a bemused look. “How in the world is wearing an apron bad?”
“Looks dorky.”
Squirrel chuffed. “I’m afraid you will, in fact, have to look like a dork – at least a bit. You’ll probably get a little tea towel to tuck under the string as well.”
Though there was silence above her, Twilight could nevertheless imagine Rainbow’s disgruntled expression. “Any tips though?”
Squirrel seemed to mull that over for a few seconds before responding. “Just the one that’s of any use no matter what the kitchen is – if the head cook starts getting stressed and angry, keep your mouth shut, your head down, and work faster.”
The mattress shuffled again overhead. “Aww, you mean I can’t tease them?”
“Nooo,” Squirrel shook her head, smiling. “Cooks are crazy at the best of times – you’d probably get tossed out a porthole if you did.”
“Aren’t you a cook?” Twilight pointed out.
Squirrel waved her off. “I’m between jobs – doesn’t count.”
“But you were insane,” Rainbow pressed.
“Well yeah – obviously. I wouldn’t’ve agreed to take you two through the Green Leek if I wasn’t.”
Twilight squirmed into a comfier position. “She’s got us there, Dash.”
As the others continued chatting, Twilight set about thinking through all the possible arcana she could run into later; while she was pretty confident there wouldn’t be anything particularly new or complex – flight and pressure mechanisms should all function more-or-less the same way on every ship – she’d hate to look like just another unprepared tourist in over their head.
“Don’t nod off there, Twi.”
Twilight blinked, only now noticing Rainbow’s head poking down at her from above. “Just planning,” she insisted, though she sat up nevertheless. “Don’t want to mess anything up.”
“I wouldn’t really worry about it,” Squirrel said. “I think they’re all bluster – as long as we’re clearly trying to help, we’ve got our passage.”
Above her, Rainbow nodded along. “Yeah! Rush is probably just flustered cause she thinks you’re cute.”
“Wait!” Twilight jolted. “Really?”
Rainbow’s grin widened. “You really need to get better at reading gryphons, Twi.”
“That’s not an answer,” Twilight noted.
Rainbow just laughed, her head disappearing from sight.
“She’s just teasing, right?” Twilight said, casting a worried look over at Squirrel; unfortunately, the mare was of no help, her face buried in her pillow as she tried to contain her laughter. “You two are so annoying,” Twilight scowled, giving the bunk above a half-hearted kick.
“Yuh huuuh,” Rainbow drawled. “You know you’re blushing, right?”
She gave the bunk another kick. “You can’t even see me right now.”
“Squirrel?”
Squirrel snickered. “She totally is.”
“So annoying,” Twilight grumbled as she rolled over to face the hull.
It was little later that a dull gong sounded, echoing down the halls and into the bunkroom. Twilight sat up abruptly and hopped off the bed in one smooth motion, feeling about as prepared as she could hope for for whatever her work would entail. “You two ready?” she asked, glancing at the others.
Rainbow nodded, stifling a yawn as she jumped off her bunk.
“All good,” Squirrel affirmed. “You don’t, uhh... you don’t happen to remember where the galley is, though, do you? I might have forgotten.”
“Same,” Rainbow muttered.
Twilight rolled her eyes as she took the lead, trusting the others to keep close as she left the room.
The East Wind’s layout wasn’t all that complex – most of the space was given to the central hold, while the scattering of outbuildings lining the outer latticework were primarily concerned with the battery of props that would eventually get the ship moving; thus, virtually all of the cabins were in the balloon’s lower interior, with a few more spilling out around the hold.
This meant that in practice Twilight figured that there were really only four major corridors she needed to keep track of, with perhaps a dozen total rooms of consequence thereabouts. “The galley’s just in front of the hold,” she said once the three of them had paused for a moment, pushing themselves up against one side of the walkway to let a stallion and tom pass. Ignoring their curious stares, they carried on. “You really need to remember at least that much.”
“Right, right,” Rainbow agreed readily enough. They’d gone several more paces before she continued. “Sooo where’s the hold, then?”
Twilight took a bracing breath as she tried not to strangle her friend.
“Well you know that,” Squirrel grinned. “It’s behind the galley.”
“Ohhh, riiight. Of course.”
Twilight lashed her tail and was pleased to hear one of them squeak. “We’re here,” she grumbled, veering down a short side passage and into the galley. Tables and low stools littered the place, while the front wall was lined with windows; they were right below the cockpit, as she recalled, and shared the same view.
A buffet-style counter ran along the back wall, while the galley-proper could just be seen beyond it. “I suppose they must have a fair number of crew,” Twilight mused. “To have a galley this large.”
“Few dozen by my guess,” Squirrel agreed. “Takes a lot of maintenance to keep something like this going.”
“Oi you three!” A shout came from across the room: there, scowling at them from a corner seat, was Rush.
Doing her best to ignore everyone’s stares at them, Twilight stuck close to Rainbow as they crossed the room.
“Well there you are!” Rainbow exclaimed with far too much cheer. “Didn’t see you from way over there.”
Rush looked past them skeptically. “You were barely thirty feet away.”
“It was super tiring getting to you, yeah,” Rainbow agreed as she sat down heavily across from the hen. “But we soldiered through.”
Rush just stared at her. “You’re weird.” She turned to look at the other two and gave them an assessing look. “Sit – I don’t need either of you falling over when the props kick on.”
Squirrel quickly took the seat next to Rainbow, giving Twilight an amused smile as the unicorn was forced to sit next to Rush. Remembering what Rainbow’d said earlier, Twilight suddenly found herself remarkably self-conscious.
“Sooo,” Squirrel said, still sporting her grin. “The ship jerks when the engines start up? I would’n’t’ve thought a balloon this big would even shudder.”
“Mmm,” Rush grunted as she twisted in her seat, her feathers brushing against Twilight’s barrel. “Not well tuned – when they’re on, they’re on. Any of you actually have any experience?”
Rainbow shrugged. “Been on plenty of ships, but never really worked one; doesn’t matter if I’m just cooking, though, does it.”
“It kind of does,” Squirrel chided, giving her a bump on the shoulder. “If there’s a major problem on the ship, everyone’ll be expected to help.”
As if on queue, the ship juddered beneath them as a dull whine began running through the cabin – the props were spooling up.
Rush smirked as all three of them jolted in alarm. “In a pinch – yes.”
“Geez guys,” Rainbow said as she hurriedly tried to smooth her ruffled feathers. “Spook much?”
“Says you,” Squirrel grumbled.
Twilight, however, had fallen right into Rush. She’s warm, Twilight thought as she found herself pressed flank to wing.
Rush leaned back to stare at her. “Still spooked?” She blinked. “Why’re you blushing?”
“Nothing!” Twilight squeaked as she quickly shuffled away. “I’m fine!”
Rush continued blinking nonplussed at her. “Sure you are,” she eventually chirped. “So that’s two hopeless sailors, then.”
She continued talking about their upcoming duties, but Twilight – much to her surprise – found she could barely pay attention, her hooves kneading distractedly on the ground. Dang Rainbow and her dang insight, she grumbled to herself. Giving her head a brisk shake, she took a deep breath and began paying attention.
Rainbow leapt up to her bunk and flopped over, her damp mane slapping limply on her pillow. It was evening, the bunkroom lit by little zephyric lamps that ran haphazardly along the ceiling; the bulbs dancing on their lines to every shake and shudder of the ship reminded her of candlelit rooms – all pools of warmth and cozy shadows.
The others were in much the same state as her. “And we have to get up when?” Rainbow grumbled.
“Early,” Squirrel huffed shortly – as best as Rainbow could tell, whatever she’d been up to in the hold had been taxing, even for her.
“Just have to get through tomorrow,” Twilight chimed in from below.
Rainbow rolled over on her bunk to peer down over the edge. “Thought it was gonna take a few days at least?”
Twilight gave half a shrug. “Maybe the weather’s changed? Gyre said the morning after next.”
Rainbow grunted before curling up into a cozier position. “That’s good, then.”
“Didn’t care for cooking?” Squirrel asked, smiling knowingly up at her.
As much as she wanted to bicker, Rainbow found she just couldn’t muster the energy. “Not as much fun as doing it at home – I mean, seriously, does everybody have to yell like that? Like, all the time?”
“Yes,” Squirrel nodded sagely. “Just be happy you were only doing buffet – at least that way you haven’t had to learn about the dreaded chits.”
Rainbow groaned. “I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming -- the moment you didn’t ask to be the cook yourself, I should’ve known.”
“Yep,” Squirrel nodded again, smiling widely.
“How’d the hold go?” Twilight chimed in. “What were you clearing up in there, anyways?”
“Oh, that,” Squirrel began, taking a moment to stretch out on her covers and shift into a comfy position, her thicker damp fur fluffing up as it rubbed against the sheets. “A good bit of the stuff down there’s stacked on the most ungainly-looking scaffolding I’ve ever seen. Some of it collapsed – dunno why – and they’re still trying to recover what they can and repair the shelving. It wouldn’t take nearly as long as it has, but the dang hold’s so full there’s just no room to do anything.” She grumbled as she pulled a knee to her chest and began massaging her cannon. “I must’ve spent half the day on my hinds.”
“Oof,” Rainbow commiserated.
“At least they have a proper water array here,” Twilight said. “The showers were nice.”
They couldn’t argue with that. Rainbow spared a glance for her wet pillow and idly wished she’d taken the time to dry her mane and tail properly.
Oh well.
“Same thing for you two tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Well,” Rainbow sighed, rolling back away from the edge. “It’s only one more day – with a little luck I can get through it without any burns.”
Twilight stood to the side while a pair of sailors pushed past, a large bundle of rods balanced longways across their backs. They glanced briefly at her in passing, but seemed otherwise wholely disinterested in the new mare. Makes sense, I suppose, Twilight figured. They probably all know we’re only here til Snowbound.
She was on one of the many wooden gantries that ran between the main clusters within the balloon, enroute to one of the aft pressure pumps; the air was unpleasantly tingly, but at least her ears had finally adjusted.
The mechanisms on the ship were all simple enough – at the end of the day, everything flight-related always came back to celestine; likewise the air pumps keeping the envelope from collapsing in on them were little more than zephyr-powered pistons and slides: all pretty standard fare.
So much so, in fact, that she couldn’t help but feel entirely superfluous.
“Waste of time,” Twilight grumbled as she continued on her way. “Could be repairing the storage bay, but nooo, I’m a uuunicorn.” She huffed again as she stepped into a narrow alcove and started ascending a steep, cage-wrapped ladder; either side of her ran bundles of cold pipes, condensation running off of them in thin streams. She knew she was being a little silly, but after everything that’d happened this past month, she found herself more and more interested in the doing of things, and not just the thinking.
She heaved herself over the top to find herself on yet another narrow gantry, but this time, rather than being sandwiched between pipes, canisters and workstations, she found herself in an open space beneath the top of the envelope; the sun’s glow stood in harsh contrast to the sterile zephyric tubes below, and easily illuminated the walkways crisscrossing the area. Brushing back her mane in the turbulent air, she pressed onward.
Ahead and set either side of stern were two great cylinders from which large ventilation pipes ran along the inner framework of the balloon. Like any other dirigible, these were part of the network that pulled in air from outside and exhausted it within, giving them the significant positive pressure required to keep the envelope intact in the face of strong headwinds; it was inelegant – much of the innards of modern ships often were – but it worked.
A continual thumping came from both devices – a sound that got all the louder as she neared. “Looks fine to me,” Twilight sighed as she did a glance-over of the port one; nevertheless, she started unscrewing the panelling, the sound redoubled in strength the moment it was off. Ears folded tightly back, she cautiously poked her head into the machine and, horn alight, got to work.
Twilight’s ears were still ringing after she’d reattached the panel, dulling the roar of the pumps: even though the pistons themselves were in a sound-deadened room below, the racket reverberating up here was considerable. She rubbed the sides of her head, wishing not for the first time she could’ve turned the machine off while she checked over the redundant controllers.
“At least it’s done,” Twilight mused aloud, if only to check if she could still hear. She’d packed up her basic toolkit and started back to the ladder when a thump shuddered up through the framework. Casting a worried look back at the upper pumps – did she somehow break something? – she considered tearing it down again when another, much larger rumble sounded up from below; she quickly crouched low to the ground: there may’ve been netting over the open spaces either side, but she was in no hurry to test them.
Moments passed before she stood back up. “Did something collapse?” Her eyes widened as she realized what must’ve happened. “The hold!” Dropping her gear, Twilight shot back towards the ladder, scampering down it so fast her hooves slipped off the rungs, dropping her the last several feet to the ground. She landed heavily and stumbled to the ground, eyes wide in shock. “Right,” she breathed as she carefully stood back up. “Slower, I think.” She carried on down the halls to the staircase that brought her up here; it wasn’t until she’d reached the bottom, stepping off onto the balloon’s main level, that she heard the shouting.
Redoubling her pace, she nearly ran straight into a small colt at the top of the main starboard well. “What’s happening?”
“What?” The colt paused barely a moment before continuing to race down the stairs. “Don’t know!” he shouted back over his withers.
Huffing, Twilight hurried after him, the sounds of panicked shouting growing ahead.
“Hey!” A rough voice called from one of the many rooms she’d run past. “Twi!”
Digging in her hooves, Twilight came to an abrupt halt just in time for a triplet of sailors – Rainbow at the rear – to brush roughly by. “Dash!”
Rainbow paused at her side just long enough to give her a quick, worried nuzzle. “They’re saying something’s gone wrong in the hold – let’s go!” And like that she was off again, Twilight well in tow.
They raced onto the cargo bay’s upper floor, the metal gantry clacking under their hooves. Machinery and piping, destined to service the props, covered the outer wall floor-to-ceiling while a thin railing opposite was all there was to keep one from falling into the hold below.
Looking over the rails, Twilight could see that the entire centre had collapsed in on itself, as though the floor had partially given way. Daylight could be seen shining through the gaps in the hull, if just barely through the fallen shelving and cargo that was nearly burying it. A roaring, whistling whine permeated the hold as a strong wind beat into everything.
“Did the floor give out!?” Rainbow shouted over the noise.
Twilight nodded. “Looks it!”
There was a flurry of activity all about the place: cargo being tugged away from the hole, lines being tied to secure what shelving yet stood, and above it all a pair of gryphs were fussing with what looked like a rusty rail-and-pulley crane.
“Hey! Tourists!” a rough voice shouted across the hold at them. Looking up, Twilight saw the speaker was a burly mare, her wings flexed in agitation. “You with the rainbow – help them on that crane! Unicorn – get everything away from the hole! I don’t need the whole blasted hull giving way!”
With a quick nod Rainbow leapt up nimbly onto the rails, flaring her wings and taking off to join the ceiling gryphs. Twilight cast around for the nearest way down before shooting off towards a steep spiral staircase cut right through the walkway floor.
The ground level was a mess. The steady wind and buckled floor-plates had strewn all manner of goods about: in sight alone was a small waterfall of copper ingots, spilt across the floor when their crates had split; crumpled packages, their parchment wrappings flapping noisily about and decorating the scene like fallen leaves; and, flowing like sand amidst it all, copious amounts of raw sugar.
A sweet taste filled the air as Twilight trotted through the dunes, her hooves kicking up little white whorls in her wake. Her plan was to find someone working the same task – it felt too dangerous to risk working at odds with anyone given how delicate everything felt – and coordinate. Stepping around a muzzle-high fragment of shelving, she nearly ran straight into a fluffy-looking dam working to lever back some debris. Before Twilight could even open her mouth, the dam had spotted her.
“Hey!” she said, a frantic edge to her voice. “Help me with this! Too much weight and this blasted breach will widen!”
Twilight hurried to join her, her horn alight as she tried to help: the weight – not to mention just how many things were stacked and twisted upon one another – made a pure brute force attempt seem folly. The plates beneath them audibly rocked as they started clearing away cargo, one item at a time; sugar spilled through the cracks, undoubtedly blowing behind them like so much smoke.
Soon more crew joined them, pulling what they’d freed from the hole still further away, dispersing the weight across the entire hold. Plates groaned and screeched as they rubbed together, in many places now far enough apart that Twilight could make out the ribs beneath; she took what care she could to always be walking above one of these, in the perhaps-vain hope that should the plate she be on buckle and fall, she could reach out and grab the beam.
The hole was growing: whether from the abuse of shifting cargo, or perhaps the entire superstructure was just too old and too weak to sustain itself anymore, she couldn’t say. She was tired now, the strain of her magic – as often holding the debris up as pushing it while she and dam carefully manoeuvred it to safety – caused her breaths to deepen. Around her, shelving was levered back; a quick glance upwards showed that they’d gotten the crane up and running, its limited rail system forcing them along slow, awkward paths.
Nothing she’d been working on looked nearly heavy enough to cause the collapse, although even as she thought that she couldn’t help but counter that whatever had been over the epicentre was undoubtedly scattered across the rocky fields below.
A tap on her withers grabbed her attention. “Should be good now,” the dam puffed, jerking her head abaft. “Let’s go.” Relieved, Twilight immediately followed suit as they wove through stacks and heaps of the surviving cargo, letting the others carry on the subtler work.
There was a small office of sorts between the bay and the stubby landing platform outside. Despite the scuffed, paper-laden desk, there was still enough room to sit and slump against the walls. Twilight sighed, closing her eyes as she rested her head against the stained wood.
The dam did much the same beside her. “What a mess,” she groaned.
Twilight grunted in response.
The sounds of shouting – as much angry as harried – echoed back to them from the hold. “Sounds like they’re trying to find someone to blame,” Twilight said.
The dam snorted softly. “Probably.”
A sudden thought came to Twilight, surging her to her hooves. “Do you know if anyone was hurt?” She hadn’t seen Squirrel, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t safely running around somewhere.
“Don’t think so,” the dam began, but Twilight was already leaving the office. The hold was still just as much a hive of activity as when she’d left it: dark bodies – most clad in heavy work jackets – were darting in and out of sight among the debris; a few of them were light enough or colourful enough to stand out, but given Squirrel’s dun-and-hoar colouration, she could be right in front of her and she may not even notice.
“Go ask Wintercress,” said a voice behind her. Looking back, Twilight saw that the dam had followed her, and was now pointing up at the stout pegasus from earlier. Casting around for some stairs, Twilight made to do just that – even if the mare couldn’t help, she’d have a much better view from up there.
The spiral stairs reminded her of just how tired she was; reaching the top, she took a few moments to school her breathing before approaching the mare. “Umm... hello?”
The mare – Wintercress – shot her an irritated look before, with a flick of her tail, ignoring her. Twilight didn’t really want to annoy her – she was clearly busy directing actions below – so she reared up next to her to get a good look at everything.
Rainbow was still busy flitting about between crane and hook, helping to pull still more things away from the breach – a breach that had widened dramatically since they’d first entered the hold however long ago. From the looks of it, barely a dozen people were in the bay. “Checking the outside, maybe?” Twilight wondered aloud.
Beside her, Wintercress grunted. “Got a bunch there, yeah. You want something?”
Twilight frowned at the mare’s brusqueness, but tried to remember that as her ship had kind of just fallen apart, she was probably allowed to be a touch rude. “Trying to see if my friend’s alright. Was anyone hurt? Is everyone okay?”
Wintercress gave another grunt. “Anyone close by scarpered the moment the deck started buckling: if you can’t see your friend here, then she’s probably fine somewhere else.” The mare flexed her wings, ruffling them as she folded them back to her sides; then, without a second glance at Twilight, went back to yelling down at the sailors below.
Seeing the dismissal for what it was, Twilight took another look around for Squirrel; seeing nothing, she decided to make her way back down – as long as Squirrel was safe, there seemed little point to running around looking for her when she could stay here and keep helping instead.
Her jacket shifted uncomfortably as she descended, reminding her of just how hot and sweaty she was despite the cool air. “A shower after all this wouldn’t go amiss,” she muttered to herself. Spotting the dam already back to work, Twilight moved to join her – she’d rested enough.
Squirrel, as it had turned out, had been off checking systems with some of the technicians as they tried to figure out what else may’ve failed. “I suppose,” Twilight said from where she was slumped in her seat, “that this type of vessel has some sort of failsafe for something like this? If the entire cargo bay sloughed away, I mean?” She, Rainbow and Squirrel were huddled together over one of the tables in the galley; it was evening, but still light enough to make out the rocky mountains passing below.
“Weeell,” Squirrel hedged, an almost embarassed look on her face. “Most cargo dirigibles would have ‘weak’ struts or wires holding up the hold – that way, if there’s a major fire or they’re woefully over-burdened in a storm or something, they can cut the hold loose and try to recover the contents later.”
“Would anyone even do that, though?” Rainbow asked, looking up from where she’d been nursing her drink. “Sounds like a huge waste of money.”
“And the contractees’ trust – so no, not that I know of,” Squirrel admitted. “It’s really just for utter emergencies; not that it would’ve mattered here – this ship’s got nothing like it.”
Twilight tried to hold in a sigh. “So if the hold had really started to collapse, there’d’ve been no recourse to save the ship?”
“We could’ve jumped?” Squirrel said, still with that embarassed look to her. “This, umm, this isn’t really a good vessel, Sparks.”
“So I understand, yes,” Twilight said, slumping over even further: the last few hours had been stunningly tiring, and she could hardly wait til bed. “Do either of you know our pace? I haven’t seen Gyre to ask.”
“Tomorrow,” Rainbow said, a faint smile growing on her face. “Late morning I think? Don’t think they’re gonna let us sleep in, though.”
“In case we’re late, I’d imagine,” Squirrel agreed.
“Mmm,” Twilight groaned. “For once I wouldn’t be opposed to sleeping in.”
“No kidding,” Rainbow grumbled.
Rainbow flopped over, her head bouncing lightly against her pillow. Supper had been a rushed affair, with little time for prep or getting together some decent stews -- it also didn’t help that it was just her and Crant doing everything, what with everyone else having been sent to help damage control; luckily, the sire could more than handle himself in the kitchen.
Something was nagging at her, however. “Hey Squirrel?”
The mare’s voice drifted up at her from below. “Hmm?”
“How many boat things does this ship have, anyways?” Rainbow rolled over to peer down from her bunk. “I mean, a lot of us here could just fly away if the ship blows up, and Twi can just magic herself to safety – “
“ – featherfall,” Twilight muttered sleepily.
“Yeah that,” Rainbow nodded. “But, like, you and Crant and Ruffle and stuff would just splat, right?”
Squirrel chuffed. “Nice imagery. I think all of us wings folk could’ve fit into just one of the tenders with room to spare, and we’ve got two.”
“Yeah, but, was anyone on them? Like, weren’t they all tied down?”
“Rainbow,” Squirrel rolled her eyes. “For one: we were all too busy trying not to have the ship go down at all to fuss with those things, and two: I’m pretty sure I already said this wasn’t a very good ship? What’s the worry about? I’m sure I’d’ve been fine if we blew up. Somehow.”
Rainbow frowned, but nodded – she didn’t know why she was even arguing, anyways. “I guess. Just didn’t think any of these ships would ever get in that kind of state.” She was still frowning uncertainly when she felt a few bumps through her mattress.
“Hey,” Twilight said softly, a leg still braced on the underside of Rainbow’s bunk. “It’s fine, Dash. I’ve seen the superstructure of this place – it’s solid, and the celestine is well set in place. It’s practically unheard of for a dirigible to plummet, and I’ve never heard of one that went down so fast that anyone died.”
“Yeah, Rainbow,” Squirrel chipped in. “Floatstone fails slow. I guess there was some risk if any of us were standing on the breach itself, but even then the floor should’ve been sagging enough to frighten us off.”
“I guess... not that I’m worried or anything,” Rainbow added hastily. “I was just curious.”
“Uh huh,” Twilight said, giving her bunk another soft nudge.
Rainbow grumbled, but felt better all the same. She rolled onto her side, leaving the other two to chat, and stared off down the bunkroom, past the crewmembers quietly chatting or reading alone; it wasn’t long before she found herself lost in idle thoughts.
Squirrel wasn’t certain what to make of that morning. The three of them had gotten up as though for another shift, and so found out pretty much immediately that they were due in Snowbound by noon. The mountains below them had, overnight, become covered in snow, while the air tasted thin and ran in brisk whirls down the corridors.
It felt like home.
They’d been quickly chivied off to work again, which is how she now found herself leaning over a railing in the hold and staring down at the snow-capped forests passing just below.
“Quit dawdling!” the rough voice of Wintercress shouted from across the hold. Jumping a little in surprise, Squirrel pushed back off the rails and hurried her way down to the main deck. The plan this morning was to clear room for the upcoming repairs in drydock, as well as double-check the security of everything – since ships could occasionally jostle about a fair deal in their moorings, the worry was that one of those shocks could knock yet more loose.
Stepping off the staircase, Squirrel crossed to join a couple of others in their efforts, taking care to stay well away from the breach – last night’s chat had done little to ease her fear of tumbling down to her doom.
Rainbow, meanwhile, was thoroughly enjoying herself. There was a hiss of steam as she poured a touch of broth into the great iron pot, squinting her eyes into the mist as she worked the browning onions around. She’d been tasked with putting together some chowder – dijon chicken, as it’d turned out they’d had a few roasters buried in the freeze box – which meant she wouldn’t really have anything to stress about til they’d reached the city; admittedly, it was kind of weird to think of eating chickens of all things, but she was just the cook.
Shouting – standard fare in a kitchen, as she’d found out pretty quick – continued around her, but seeing as she didn’t need to do anything about it, she just ignored it. While cooking hadn’t been as difficult as she’d originally feared, it’d certainly gotten stressful in the leadup to meals.
Soup, though? That was easy.
It still bugged her that she wasn’t even getting paid for any of this, but she supposed since they weren’t paying for the voyage itself, it all kind of evened out; it helped that she’d picked up a few things, too.
“How’s she doing?” Crant rasped as he sidled up next to her. Rainbow let go of the wooden spoon, stepping back so that the sire could take a look. Seemingly satisfied after only a single glance, he turned to lean against the prep table. “You figure out your plans, yet?”
Rainbow shrugged. “Still think we should just wing it.” She’d been chatting idly with him and some of the others the day before about this whole trip – sliver and all. “I mean, we’re probably not gonna find anything, so why stress?”
Crant snorted, adjusting his faded mossy neckerchief as he did. “Definitely not going to find anything with that attitude, missy. Thought that friend of yours really wanted this rock?”
“And we’ll look for it!” Rainbow responded a touch defensively. “Just seems silly to try and put together some sort of checklist when all we have is there’s apparently maybe one nearby.” She shrugged uncomfortably before leaning back over the pot. “We’ll sort something out, somehow or other, but until then? No stress.”
Twilight sat hunched over a jury-rigged stack of splitters. Despite its distance from the breach – she was somewhere near the cockpit’s portside right now – the section that bridged from it had failed around the same time. “There’s no corrosion,” she muttered to herself as she pushed aside a few loose braids, trying to get a better look at the lower connections. The singers were inert, but she could still feel lingering traces of mana as she traced her hooves up and down the lines, feeling for a break; resonance cables like these rarely failed outright if only a few of their wires were cut, but she wanted to be thorough.
She huffed and leaned back, rolling her shoulders as she tried to stretch out the kinks. She was of half a mind to just give up wholesale and try to track down the issue somewhere else. Standing up, she walked over to a nearby porthole to see if anything had changed since she’d started. The mountains below were still largely barren and snowclad, with only scant clusters of trees scattered about; there was still no sight of Snowbound, although she wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case even if they were not a mile away given the sheer number of canyons and valleys the city could be nestled within.
Shooting another look at the stack, she sighed and, with a shake of her head, closed it all back up. “Let’s try tracing it back instead.”
She doubted she’d actually be able to track down the issue in time – from what she’d picked up earlier they were likely not an hour out from harbour – so it didn’t take much to convince herself to be a bit creative in where she searched.
Ascending a narrow utility ladder, she popped up on one of the access ramps outside the cockpit. Frigid winds blew around her as she hunched low and pulled her jacket close. Moving fast, she made her way down the walkway, keeping clear of the rails – they looked awfully rusty – until she’d reached the side door that led into the galley’s main pantry.
She pulled heavily on the door, sliding it open on its pivots until she could slip inside; once done, she pulled it close behind and started looking around for her quarry. A single gryph – taking inventory from the looks of it – shot her a brief glance before, with a shrug, returning to his work.
Figuring that if anyone asked she’d just tell them the truth – that she was trailing a fault – she poked her head around the corner and into the kitchen proper. She spotted Rainbow easily enough, her head wreathed in a cloud of mist as she worked away at a large pot; a lone gnoll was puttering around stocking things too, but it didn’t look like he’d fuss if she came in.
Weaving her way around the tightly-packed work tables and open-topped cooling boxes, she came up to Rainbow and reared up to take a peak into the pot herself. “Some sort of soup?” she asked as she stared down at the chunky, pale-brown surface.
Rainbow jolted slightly in surprise. “Oh! Hey Twi. Yeah – chicken.”
Twilight stuck out her tongue. “Bleh.”
“I know, right? Yuck.” Rainbow stepped back from the pot to lean against the adjacent table. “So what’s up? I know we’re not there yet.”
Twilight shrugged. “Just wasting time, really.”
“Heh – doesn’t sound like you.”
“I know,” Twilight said, rubbing her neck sheepishly. “But I don’t have nearly enough time to actually finish my assignment, so... yeah.”
“Mmm,” Rainbow agreed. She leaned back over to stir the soup again, but from the looks of it she was just trying to keep busy. “So...”
“Hmm?” Twilight said, her ears perking slightly.
“What’s the plan? When we arrive, I mean. I know it’s ‘find the sliver guy,’ but that’s kinda vague.”
Twilight nodded slowly, but didn’t immediately respond: as much as she was loathe to admit it, she hadn’t been able to work out their next step, either. “Squirrel’s going to want to see her folks,” she said eventually. “And we’ll need food and a place to sleep.”
“A market and inn’s going to take all of half-an-hour, Twi.” Rainbow folded her arms and yawned sleepily. “Though I guess we could stay there for a nap, first.”
Twilight hummed, but was too lost in her own thoughts to say anything more. It wasn’t long before she fell to pacing in the cramped cooking galley, leaving Rainbow to keep an eye on her work. “We know we’re seeking a tom, and we know they asked after Crest – that means we’ll want to check out the city lapidaries. We’ll want to ask Squirrel about the postal service, too – if the tom sent their request through them, they may have logs we can use.”
Rainbow snorted. “Really doubt they’d let us see them, no matter how nice we ask.”
Twilight paused mid-step. “Right,” she acknowledged as she continued her pacing. “It would be kind of worrying if they did, actually. Lapidaries and curio shops it is, then.”
The three of them were in the galley, staring out the fore-facing windows: the triple peaks of Snowbound approached, rising at the far end of a glacial trough. Below, scattered in clumps, were the farmsteads that made up the foundation of the city’s food supply. “I can’t imagine it makes for a particularly diverse diet,” Twilight commented as she tried to stare down at the snow-covered fields. “Especially in winter.”
Beside her, Squirrel shrugged. “Any port in a storm. You’re right though – a lot of the food here just gets shipped in from elsewhere, but the granaries always have to have enough for an emergency. Anyways, see the peaks ahead? And how it goes ‘tall, tall, short’?”
Twilight stared out into the thin fog at the city. One of the three dominating peaks were definitely shorter than the others. “Yeah.”
“That’s the main drydock for repairs and construction -- the other two are for everything else. There’s a really nicely-carved wooden bridge, easily forty feet across, that connects the two tall ones about midway up. It’s got some neat markets either side, so we’ll want to check that out while we’re here.”
Twilight couldn’t help but notice the warm smile on Squirrel’s face as she spoke, nor that she’d yet to break eye contact with the city. “I’m sure we can find time for it.”
“Know where the good eats are?” Rainbow chimed in.
“Definitely,” Squirrel nodded, her tail swishing faintly. “There’s a bunch near the main port – that’s on that tall peak there on the left; a bunch of inns around there, too. But,” she added, finally turning away from the city to face them, “the ones further away tend to be way better – I can think of a few, certainly. I’ll hook you two up somewhere decent for the night, then we can check them out.”
Twilight nodded contentedly – Squirrel seemed to have things well in hoof. “Any ideas about the sliver? Dash and I were chatting about it earlier, but we’re both a bit stymied.”
Squirrel nodded thoughtfully as she once again turned to stare off into the distance. “I think we’ll just have to ask around? There’re a few towns nestled in the valleys around here – if the city turns out to be a bust, we can always check them out.”
“Sounds good,” Twilight agreed. From the looks of it, they wouldn’t have much time to look around today -- the breach had slowed them down more than she’d anticipated, and it was already an hour past noon.
Around them rang the sounds of the crew, echoing along the corridors and ventilation shafts. The captain had already dismissed them from their duties – he didn’t want them getting underhoof, Twilight figured – which left them with little to do but idle.
“We should get our gear,” Twilight suggested as they drifted ever closer to the city. “Then to the hold, I suppose.”
“Yeah,” Squirrel agreed, taking one last look out the windows before hopping off the bench. “Let’s go.”
The walk back through the ship was quick, with none of them particularly interested in detouring – they’d already said their goodbyes to those few they’d gotten along with well enough to bother – and so found themselves strapping on their satchels and panniers in short order.
“Think there’s anywhere to clean our jackets?” Rainbow asked as she tried to buff out a dark, oily smudge on her sleeve. “Squirrel?”
“I can think of a couple launderies,” Squirrel shrugged. “I’ll need ‘em myself, anyways.”
After a brief double-check to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything, they continued on to the hold: breach or not, that’s where they’d be disembarking.
A chill wind greeted them as they reached the base of the starboard cargo-deck stairwell. “Let’s find somewhere warm?” Rainbow suggested as she glanced around at the open doors to the hold. “There’s probably somewhere around here with a view.”
“There’s a workroom near the bow,” Twilight said, leading the group afore. “Should be free, and we’d still be able to see the city.”
They wove through a cramped network of pipes, tables and various other mechanisms, while the sounds of shouting and banging came through the open observation windows. “They sound busy in there,” Squirrel noted, looking curiously into the cargo bay. “Trying to patch it up? Don’t know why they’re bothering this close to the city.”
“Does it matter?” Rainbow asked innocently. “We’re done; they’re probably just trying to keep busy, anyways.”
“Fair enough.”
The workroom was surprisingly tidy compared to the rest of the ship: the tools were neatly put away, the stools tucked in under their tables, and there were barely any wood- or metal-shavings to crunch through underhoof. Seeing a pile of sheetmetal lying conveniently next to the dust-enshrouded windows, they settled in for the wait, chatting quietly as the city came ever closer.
Tails and manes whipped in the wind as the three ponies stood pressed against the outside of the very cabin they’d first come in on just a couple days ago. The East Wind hovered fully three-quarters of the way up the first peak as it was slowly manoeuvred into the wide, multi-leveled arms of an awaiting berth. The plan was to quickly unload what of their cargo had survived before moving the ship down to the semi-enclosed drydocks of the shorter third peak.
Rainbow blinked and shook her head as an errant dusting of snow blew off of some higher platform and cascaded down onto the crew, momentarily stalling attempts to pull the ship in for the few seconds it took to clear.
She recognized a few of the people around her as they heaved on the thick lines that had been flown over to the piers either side: apparently, even with the wind the ship was still bouyant enough that you could simply pull it the last little ways into berth.
The deck shuddered underhoof as the starboard fenders once again ground into the pier, further slowing the attempts to reel them in. By the time the three of them were actually able to disembark, Rainbow figured they’d probably have just enough time to find an inn – Squirrel had practically insisted she show them somewhere decent, away from this peak’s main docks – before needing to get some dinner.
The sliver would have to wait until tomorrow.
“I wonder how many ships blow up at this point?” Rainbow said, looking to distract the other two, neither of whom seemed particularly pleased with all the juddering. “Or break the docks instead.”
“Not many,” Squirrel said, as she looked upon the procedings with cautious interest. “This is all pretty normal when you’re this high up, which means everything’s been made real sturdy.” Another dull bang echoed around them, making them all flinch. “Reeeal sturdy.”
Twilight snorted. “Well,” she said, hunched between them. “Look at it this way: the featherfall spell is touch-based, so if the ship does fall, just try to keep a hold of me.”
Squirrel nodded slowly. “Riiight. And what about when the balloon falls on us?”
Twilight looked up and blinked. “Oh. Nevermind then.”
It was a few minutes later when, quite suddenly, the ship stopped resisting and pulled up snugly against the dock where waiting stevedores quickly began mooring the ship to a battery of cleats. Rainbow didn’t doubt that much the same was happening to the balloon above, as it, too, was tied in place to a series of strutted towers, their guys just visible through the snow.
“Hope this doesn’t take too much longer,” Squirrel grumbled. “Still have lots to do today.”
Rainbow hummed in agreement. “No kidding.”
Rainbow trailed close behind Twilight as they crossed the wide offloading ramp that had descended, bridging the centre of the hold to the main receiving platform; Squirrel stood waiting for them at the far end, seemingly unbothered by the now rapidly falling snow. “Let’s go!” Squirrel called as they stepped off the ramp and onto cold metal. “It’ll be warmer inside.”
Rainbow never felt happier that she was wearing boots and not trying to walk through all this bare-hooved. The platform quickly transitioned to a great, covered hemi-spherical bay; looking around, Rainbow could make out several such platforms dotting the cliffs. Even through the snow-haze she could see countless splashes of warm glowing light from windows, balconies and buildings built on spars jutting out of the rock.
“Looks a bit like a termite mound, doesn’t it?” she said, speaking a touch loudly over the wind. “With all the holes and stuff?”
Twilight nodded, shivering even as she walked. “A little.”
“It’s just the top that’s like this,” Squirrel said, falling back to walk close on Twilight’s other side. “Passages and homes go right to the bottom, of course, but it’s only a labyrinth way up here.”
“H-how far down are we going?”
Rainbow frowned and stepped in closer to Twilight, despite that it made walking somewhat awkward.
“About halfway,” Squirrel said, her gaze sweeping over the cliff face. “You can’t see it from here, mind. You’ll like it, though – most of the stuff on this face is still all rock, but the other side looks like someone took a huge bite out of the peak before the gap was filled in with wood and brass and silver steel. Weather’s kind of lousy for sightseeing, though.”
While Squirrel kept chattering away, clearly trying to distract Twilight from the cold, Rainbow did her best to try and memorize where they were; luckily, the various docks were fairly distinct in height, shape and size. While the face their dock abutted had a trio of low storage hangars cut slightly into the rock, Squirrel directed them to a curving ramp that rose off the side and up towards what looked like the main entrance to the peak. Rainbow could make out several other docks that likewise fed into it, their own connecting ramps weaving right along the cliffs, their walkways covered in dull, snow-covered canvas.
The ramp was icy, but the knurled metal kept them from slipping. “All the docks on this side lead up to here,” Squirrel said, apparently still happy to chat up her hometown. “It’s where the harbourmaster, itineraries, supplies and all that sort of stuff is. We don’t have to check in or anything, mind -- it’s just the ships that do.”
“This is weird,” Rainbow said. “I mean, you’re actually being a guide right now.”
“This again?” Squirrel huffed.
“I didn’t say it was bad!” Rainbow added hastily. “Just weird.”
“Well, here at least, I shouldn’t get us lost.” They reached the upper platform and found themselves in front of a wide alcove cut into the rock. Large pillars of stacked stone blocks rose up to support a series of great wooden beams, upon these resting a steeply-angled slatted roof. Wooden doors, studded in metal and covered in intricate fretwork, lay invitingly open, while dark, vertical slits stared ominously at them from the faces either side. The wind whistled as they approached.
The stone floor swapped briefly to wood again as they crossed the threshold. “It’s a drawbridge,” Squirrel said, still in tour guide mode. “This is pretty much a barbican: all the docks lead up to one.”
Rainbow nodded distractedly, but was only half-listening, as the moment they entered the gatehouse they were met with a blast of warm air: either side of them, raised on decorated plinths, were blocks of stone, hot enough to glow a ruddy orange. Not many metres ahead lay another open set of doors.
“Arrow slits, murder holes,” Squirrel chirped happily as she led them further in. “There’s a couple of rusty portcullises you can’t see either, hiding up in slots in the ceiling.”
“You didn’t mention this place was built like a fortress,” Twilight said, looking around curiously. “Even if it’s an old one.”
“Well, it’s not like it’s anything impressive, really,” Squirrel shrugged as the three of them stepped off to the side – it was nice and warm near the blocks, and it kept them out of the way of the steady stream of traffic. “It’ll work, mind you – or, well, it probably will, but as this place is so pointless to attack anyways, it hardly seemed worth bringing up.”
“It’s still interesting!” Twilight insisted. “For instance: how did they keep fliers out? We’re not underground in the traditional sense, and there’re so many windows and balconies.”
“Optimism, I think, but there were gatehouses layered all about, once upon a time – we’ll pass by some of them as we go. Speaking of...” Squirrel trailed off expectantly, looking pointedly at the inner doors.
Twilight cast a last longing look at the heating blocks before nodding. “Right. Let’s go – I can see the masonry later.”
“I’m sure it’ll be warmer inside,” Rainbow said as they moved on. “Everyone’d freeze, otherwise.”
“It’s always brisk up here,” Squirrel agreed as they exited into a busy shard-lit corridor that ran left, right and straight ahead. Daylight could be seen spilling in from slots running along the outer wall, while the inner looked to be dedicated to a contiguous line of workshops and storehouses. People of all races were moving about with purpose, while the sounds of wood- and metalwork rang throughout the halls. “Let’s keep going,” Squirrel said, nudging them onwards.
“I suppose it makes sense to have the industrial shops right next to the ports,” Twilight said, her breaths still putting out little puffs of mist.
“Yep!” Squirrel agreed. “It’s still cold here, I know – once we’re up top it’ll be warm again.” As she said this the corridor curved, leading them to the base of a large, bright staircase; the top was warm and inviting, with painted signs both great and small hanging from cables overhead.
Ascending close behind a pair of thickly-jacketed gnolls, they soon reached the top. “And here we are,” Squirrel said in an unduly dramatic voice. “The traveller’s atrium!”
They stood at the edge of a polished stone plaza; at its centre stood a grand, wrought-iron spiral stairwell that ran down into the floor, while daylight shone in from a great glass dome set at the top of a fluted chimney above, itself cut roughly down from the surface; mirrors and polished marble lined its faces, angling and diffusing the light until the entire atrium was lit. Stores of every manner lined the hewn walls, hawking everything from basic gear and supplies to mechanisms and arcana. At a glance there must’ve been nearly a hundred people moving about.
“Fancy,” Rainbow said, eying the shops for anything interesting. “Drizzle was cooler, though.”
“Yeah, but this is still way better than it used to be,” Squirrel said, nodding along agreeably. “Everywhere else here is a bit maze-like, which makes this just about the only place where passers-through won’t get lost; on that note, keep close when we’re down below and just remember that if you do get lost, you’re never actually more than a couple dozen metres from the nearest window.”
“Good to know. It’s nice that it’s warmer here, too,” Twilight added. “But we can come back later – it’s getting late and we really need to find an inn.”
They circled wide around the centre, passing by the storefronts with little more than a glance. Despite Twilight’s words, it wasn’t actually late – barely a couple hours past noon, by Rainbow’s guess – so they weren’t bothering to move too quickly.
At some point Squirrel directed them down a seemingly nondescript passage, the walls of plain stone. Rainbow soon realized that the city layout was even simpler than she’d said – virtually all the walkways they travelled were cliffside, with windows to the outside constantly in sight. As these pathways spiralled their way down the inside of the peak rooms would suddenly open up, revealing simple shops and homes or trickling fountains and greenhouses.
Occasionally they’d come across much larger gashes, as though huge vertical slices had been taken out of the peak. Small homes built on spars covered much of either face, with balconies and bridges running back and forth. It’s a sunlight thing, Squirrel had said. Gnolls might be fine without daylight, but it’s mostly gryphs and pegasi here.
Surprisingly, there was an absolute abundance of plants everywhere. “I can’t imagine these growing so well unattended,” Twilight said as they passed by a clump of flowering mosses, their stamen glowing a faint bluish-white. “Even with the sunlight.”
“All the proper gardens are tended, sure,” Squirrel said. “But there’s plenty of water running through these rocks, and these species don’t need much in the way of nutrients, otherwise.”
“Do you have a lot of bats?” Twilight asked. They’d paused on one of the outer walkways, the view showing them they were perhaps halfway down already. “Guano would certainly explain it.”
“Yep! Plenty. Birds, too.”
Ignoring the terminally dull conversation for the moment, Rainbow leaned out over the rails as far as she could and tried to figure out exactly where they were. Despite Squirrel’s earlier comment, there didn’t seem to be any real anti-flier defences – which suited her just fine – so she should be pretty free to just come and go however she pleased; the odd gryphon or pegasus she could spot flying around only further assured her. “So how far til we get to this inn?” she asked, interrupting the other two.
“Hmm?” Squirrel blinked as she glanced at her. “Oh! Just a little lower – the one I’m thinking of’s just above that bridge I mentioned: it’s real convenient there.”
Rainbow frowned. “Considering how much of a nightmare walking all the way back up this thing’s gonna be, staying near the top would’ve made way more sense.”
“Only if you were leaving right away – we’ll probably need a couple days to scour the city for info, and that means we’ll be using that bridge over and over and over again.”
Rainbow narrowed her eyes and got ready to disagree purely out of habit before catching herself. “I guess that makes sense...” she pouted instead. “As long as the food’s decent. Still gonna suck when it is time to go.”
“Tell me about it,” Twilight grumbled. “Let’s just focus on one thing a time.”
“’Inn’ it is, then,” Squirrel nodded as she led them back inside and on their way.
They were in a tiered cavern, wide enough that Twilight could make out daylight on either side. Wood-and-stone buildings lined the inner edges of each terrace, leaving a host of open, plant-covered spaces in between. A small creek built along a finely-cut channel ran in pools and over falls until it disappeared out of sight through a low, grated passage.
“Roomy,” Rainbow said conversationally.
“Cozy, too,” Twilight added as they moved down towards a multi-story building near the bottom. “Inefficient,” she couldn’t help herself adding, “considering how valuable space is here. But cozy.”
Squirrel chuffed. “Like I said – we’re not all gnolls here. All the stuff up top is pretty cramped – you’d have windows of a sort, staying there, but no open air otherwise. Once you’re set up I’ll head off to see the folks.”
“They’re nearby?”
“Yep! Just a few minutes, actually. We can meet up again in the morning? They’ll probably want me to stay for dinner.”
“Sounds good,” Twilight said, Rainbow echoing her sentiment. There was no need to rush things today: they’d be spending most of it just getting settled and orientated, anyways.
Their room was narrow and low, holding nothing more than a bunkbed and writing desk, but they did at least have a large window that looked out into the cavern. Streaks of daylight, running across the busy stone, did a lot to reduce the oppressive air. “It’s a good deal nicer than Drizzle, isn’t it?” Twilight said idly as she tested the bed – it was softer than she’d thought it would be. “Less closed feeling.”
“Yeah,” Rainbow agreed, already curled up bootless on the top bunk. “What’re we up to today? I mean, I wouldn’t mind getting a good fly-around before it gets too dark.”
Twilight nodded. While the city – or this peak, at any rate – seemed pretty straight-forward, with ramps and stairwells in abundance, what each level actually contained was a complete mystery. “Do you think they have a city map? We can’t be the only people that aren’t just passing through.”
“We kinda are,” Rainbow noted. “But yeah – hopefully Squirrel can help there. I can at least figure out if there are any more plazas and stuff.”
“Sounds like a plan; I’ll scout around this area and see what I can find.”
Rainbow rolled her wings, stretching them out before tucking them neatly back at her sides. She was somewhere near the top of the shorter third peak. She’d pretty quickly realized there wasn’t any way to scout out every nook and cranny – absolutely nothing in this city was laid out neat and tidy, so for all she knew she’d passed by hidden workshops and marketplaces ten times over – so she’d settled for simply learning the location of every bridge and dock, and a little ways into them, too.
She clucked her tongue as she stood on the peripheral of what looked like a major west-facing drydock: from the looks of it, the sun had just gone down past the surrounding mountains; with the cloudcover as thick as it was, it’d be dark soon.
While she sincerely doubted they’d ever be coming up here, she nevertheless turned to try and figure out how they would if they wanted to. A small trisail – its mast down and lying flat across its deck – was being fussed on by a few workers off to the side, but they didn’t even spare her a glance. The whole area reminded her of the kind of drydocks – the ones for actual seacraft – that she’d occasionally passed over back home: all disorganized and messy, with stacks of wood and scrapmetals piled up high beneath shanty roofs, all amidst the ever-present sounds of cutting- and welding-machines loud enough to reach far up into the sky; where one glance told you that they couldn’t possibly even patch a rowboat, and a second glance would see ship after ship launching smoothly and confidently back into the bay.
She’d always liked those places – it was fun to land and walk around and chat a little, and no one seemed to care that she was just passing by.
She angled away from the wall, aiming for what looked like the main road in and out of the open hangar. If it was anything like she expected there’d be a bar and a few small shops along the street, filled with off-duty workers; not far beyond that would be the minute apartments they and their families could rent for a fraction of what they could get offsite.
She wasn’t wrong. Passing through the open gates – so heavily wedged by debris against the walls that she doubted they could ever be closed – she almost immediately found herself staring at the colourful signs, lit now by many-hued shards, of little market shops.
“Hello there,” Rainbow said conversationally to the clerk as she dipped into the nearest. The demigryph looked up from his reading and nodded good-naturedly back; he looked bored by Rainbow’s reckoning. “Quiet day?”
The clerk sighed, the wind whistling through his beak in the curious way it always did. “Yeah – weather like this outside’ll stall traffic for a while.”
Rainbow nodded along, figuring it was her accent that betrayed her as a nonlocal. “Makes sense,” she said as she poked around at the shelves. “Anything interesting around the port?”
The demi looked pointedly at her wings. “Considering you’re all of five minutes from anywhere in the city? No. If it’s gear or trinkets you’re looking for, either the big atrium at the top of Caile should do, or the main one under Stile if it doesn’t.”
That caught her ear. “Stile?”
“The middle peak,” the demi said with a roll of his eyes. “You’ll have seen the big bridge that connects it and Caile, certainly? Cross it to Stile, then go down a level – you can’t miss it.”
That was some unexpectedly good news. “Alriiight! Thanks!”
The demi grunted in a self-satisfied kind of way before going back to his book. Considering that permission to leave without buying anything in thanks, Rainbow hurried back out the way she came. She’d hadn’t expected to get anything out of this peak, but the location of a second marketplace? Perfect.
Rainbow huffed, arms folded as she pouted on her bed.
Below her, Twilight was having a hard time looking her in the eye. “I mean, I’m not trying to diminish your contribution or anything,” she hedged. “It is useful information.”
Rainbow hunched over harder. “So maybe I forgot Squirrel would’ve told us about it anyways. It’s not my fault I can’t scout worth a dang in this dumb city.” She trailed off with a bit of grumbling for good measure.
“Well... I did find a few nice places around here,” Twilight said, rearing up to give Rainbow a gentle poke. “Including a couple of pretty nice-looking restaurants.”
That perked her up. “I guess that sounds okay...” Rainbow said, relaxing; she’d intended to be a nuisance for a little longer, but if Twilight was offering food then the least she could do was cheer up. “It wouldn’t do to not try out the local food while we’re here, after all.”
“Exactly,” Twilight agreed, falling back to all fours. Rainbow remained curled up as her friend turned back and continued working on what looked like a fledgling map of the city. Their room was warm and snug, a nice reprieve from the sharp cold that was growing outside: the wind had kicked up and dustings of snow could be seen whirling about in the atrium below. Rainbow didn’t know how anybody sane could live here – their homes must be half insulation! – and found she couldn’t wait until they could descend again to warmer heights.
Squirrel hadn’t returned, having presumably stayed for dinner; it was going to be the first night in a while without the mare. “Well, this is kinda weird.”
“Hmm?” Twilight glanced back at her over her withers.
“No Squirrel – I mean, I don’t think we’ve not slept with her somewhere nearby since we met her, have we? So it’s... I dunno. Weird.”
Twilight set down her pen. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted, a contemplative look on her face. “Even in Hurricanum we shared an inn.”
Rainbow found herself staring off into the distance, lost in thought. The mare hadn’t been as bad as she’d thought when first they’d met; plus, it’d been funner than she’d thought it’d be to go on a trip with a stranger – getting to know them filled in a lot of otherwise dull hours. “I guess Blunderbum’s just around the corner, isn’t it.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Wanderbelle, and yes, it is. I’ll miss her, but I can’t deny it’ll be nice to be back home and see everyone else again, either.”
“Yeah,” Rainbow said, trailing off. “Yeah – we’ll have some awesome stories, too!” She cheered up a bit at the thought. With a glance out the window at the fading light, she nodded to herself and set to preening – she figured she’d have enough time before dinner. After that, there wouldn’t be anything left to do but wait until the morrow.
Twilight cracked open an eye and glanced over at the window. Daylight, she thought sleepily to herself. Should get up. She curled instead into a yet tighter ball, warm and snug beneath the duvet. The air in the room was brisk, but tolerable, although she wasn’t looking forward to that dreadful minute between throwing aside the sheets and getting her boots and jacket back on.
Nevertheless.
She rolled quickly out of bed, shivering as she hurriedly dressed and made a mental note to pick up some warmer clothes. A quick look out the frost-rimed window showed a few people moving about in the early-morning glow.
Pulling her jacket close, she reared up to the top bunk and gave Rainbow a nudge. “Up you get, Dash.”
Rainbow stirred, blinking and frowning blearily. “Mmm,” she hummed, wiggling sleepily under the blankets. “Bit early, isn’t it?”
Twilight shook her head, despite that Rainbow had buried her head in the sheets. “Not really – we don’t know how long it’ll take to exhaust our leads on the sliver; plus, I think we could both do to find ourselves some warmer clothing.”
Rainbow’s head poked back out. “Would need to be cheap – not carrying it back down with us, are we?” It was spring, and felt like it down below.
“It’ll depend on how warm it is, I suppose?” Twilight shrugged. “We’ll find out; or we would, if you’d just get up.”
Rainbow appeared to mull things over for a moment before sighing and crawling out of bed. “Fiiine. Squirrel here yet?”
“She won’t be until after breakfast.” Twilight didn’t know what time it was yet, but by her guess they still had an hour or so. She scuffed the floor, feeling suddenly irritated – coordinating hadn’t been an issue before now, since they were all three always together, and she found she wasn’t enjoying having to wait.
Although it took some grumbling, Rainbow eventually managed to get dressed; then, it was just a matter of grabbing their gear, and off they went.
“So are we rekitting everything, or...?” Rainbow asked as they strode down the short hall to the central stairwell.
“Maybe?” Twilight hadn’t really thought about it. “I’m not opposed to it – I just don’t want to have to do it all over again once we leave. Let’s check out the shops first, then decide.”
“We can head to that market I found yesterday?” Rainbow said, suddenly bright-eyed. “Across the bridge? The one that I scouted out because I’m awesome?”
Twilight rolled her eyes fondly. “Sure. I’ll be certain to tell Squirrel to give you all the credit.”
Beside her, Rainbow’s smile slid off her face as quickly as it came. “It’s not fun bragging about dumb stuff with just the two of us, is it.”
Twilight shoulder-bumped her. “She’ll be here soon enough. Realistically speaking there’ll only be a couple weeks between Wanderbelle and us getting back to Sweet Apples, anyways, so we were always going to part.”
Rainbow bumped her back. “I know that, Twi – I’m not lonely, or anything. Heck, it was just the two of us from Sunrise to Cherry, wasn’t it? She’s just fun to tease.”
They paused to exchange a few words with an innkeeper busy with paperwork before stepping out into the atrium. The air was still, but frigid, with the two ponies’ breaths coming out in little puffs. Twilight had a sneaking suspicion that things were unseasonably cold right now, given how many of the shops they’d passed the day before looked like they could be open-fronted. “There’s a place just up ahead,” she said, bobbing her head towards a side tunnel branching off from a higher tier. “Looked like it did breakfast and lunch.”
“S’long as it’s hot, I’m happy.”
That was something Twilight could agree with.
The separate levels each had many different ramps and short staircases leading between them, often with a thin stream or patch of hardy plants alongside; the effect reminded her of the open gardens she’d found common in the few mountainside towns and cities – Canterlot chief among them – she’d been to back home.
The passage they soon found themselves venturing down was lined with homes either side; the walls and ceiling were irregular, so much so that some of the houses could even fit in a second floor, their windows peaking down at them from between the tunnel’s braces.
Twilight had been down here the day before, scouting around as best she could -- not that she expected to find anything, but she couldn’t get herself to just sit down somewhere and wait. So far as she was concerned, Squirrel couldn’t arrive soon enough.
“This is the place here,” Twilight said, nodding towards one of the many heavily-lintled doorways lining the way, recessed as it was into the stone. A helpful sign hung above it, bearing the restaurant’s name. “Let’s see what it’s like.”
The bell chimed on their way back out, not more than half an hour later. “Well that was decent,” Twilight said conversationally. “Not the best, I suppose – but decent.”
“Eggs weren’t right,” Rainbow grumbled. “I said ‘scrambled,’ not ‘omelette, but chopped up.’”
Twilight hummed vaguely in agreement: she’d heard this one before. “I wonder where they keep the chickens? Although... oh, nevermind – there’re little villages all over the valley, aren’t there.”
Rainbow continued her moue, even after Twilight directed her down a different passage than the one they’d come through. “We’ve still time before Squirrel gets back,” Twilight said as they made their way towards daylight. “There’s a nice view up ahead.”
“Storm’s broken,” Rainbow said, dropping her pout for a coy look instead. “I’m guessing... partly cloudy.”
“This fast? Not a chance,” Twilight insisted, playing along. “It wasn’t nearly windy enough last night.”
Rainbow just smirked and fluffed out her wings.
The passage narrowed briefly at a set of open doors – glowing heating blocks either side – before flaring back out, spilling them onto a wide, wooden walkway. From the looks of it it wound its way around the peak, as the gantry curved and disappeared either side; above them, casting them in shade, was another of the same.
“I imagine you scouted this out yesterday?” Twilight asked as they walked over to the railed edge, the trodden snow crunching softly underhoof. “Does it go all the way around? Because if it does, it’ll make getting around much easier.”
“Oh, sure – top to bottom, though it just turns into stairs or goes inside a bit sometimes,” Rainbow said, still grinning widely at her. “We can check it out later while enjoying how partly cloudy it is.”
Twilight sighed. She’d seen the weather out the corner of her eye, but was hoping she was just imagining things. “Yes. Well. So we shall.”
“Imagine doubting me,” Rainbow said, prodding her in the side.
“You’ll be wrong one day, Dash,” Twilight said, prodding her right back. “And then? Then, I’ll gloat.”
Rainbow still wore her cheshire grin. “Yuh huh. I’ll have to use my imagination for that.”
Twilight chuffed as she nudged her along the walkway. “Let’s just get moving.” She wasn’t as cold as she’d feared – the morning sun was surprisingly warm – but she knew she would be if she didn’t start walking.
There was a small but steady stream of people – mostly winged – moving alongside them, making Twilight suspect that these gantries served as the main paths even for locals. “How was flying yesterday, anyways? The weather seems to have grounded most of the folk here.” A quick glance over the rails showed that, indeed, there were very few up and flying about.
“Cold,” Rainbow said with a wry smile. “I can do it, mind you – I’d just rather not.”
Considering Twilight had seen icicles forming off the winter gear of some of the crazier pegasi back home, she didn’t doubt it – no one would add flight-speed winds to already frigid air unless they were desperate or just plain weird.
The walkway hooked sharply, weaving back into the cliff through another of the heated pseudo-gatehouses as it led into yet another of the peak’s winding halls. “This should make its way back to the inn,” Twilight said as they passed under a series of carved archways as thick around as her barrel. “Closer to the main bridge.”
“Didja get a chance to check it out, yesterday? I did a flyby and it looked... well, it looked like a bridge, to be honest.” Rainbow shrugged irreverantly. “Neat as bridges go, though.”
Twilight shook her head. “I was waiting until today, actually – I got the impression Squirrel wanted to show it off.”
“Of course,” Rainbow nodded sagely. “Just like anytime any of you guys are up in Cloudsdale that’s what I do, too – I show off our bridges.”
Twilight snorted. “I’m pretty sure you show off all the foreign food, actually.”
“Best part of growing up there.”
“There she is!” Rainbow called out as they rounded the final bend back to the inn. “Bridge-pony!”
Squirrel started, pivoting quickly to face them. “What?” she asked, a bemused smile on her face. “Also – hello! Sleep well?”
Rainbow shrugged noncommittally. “Okay, I guess.” Beside her, Twilight hurried up to give Squirrel a friendly shoulder-bump.
“Finally!” Twilight said, already turning back the way they’d come. “Let’s go! Rainbow says there’s a market over this way.”
“Which I totally scouted out entirely on my own,” Rainbow added. “I know this city like the back of my pastern, I do.”
“Uh huh,” Squirrel said, still looking bemused as she followed. “The Stile market. Don’t think we’re going to find a lead, there – it’s mostly food, clothes and knicknacks.”
“You’re out of touch – clothes are just what we need, miss thick-furred.”
Squirrel looked down at the thin jacket she was wearing. “I suppose it is a bit cool here.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Ya think?”
“New jackets, some scarves, maybe hats,” Twilight chimed in helpfully. “We saved a lot of money working our way from Weld, so there seems little reason not to spend some of it now.”
“Helps that it’s not actually our money, either,” Rainbow added.
“That too.”
Squirrel took the lead, guiding them down much narrower and steeper passages and stairwells than they’d gone down before.
“So it’s straight to shopping then,” she said, her voice sounding high and tinny in the claustrophobic rift they were practically sidling through. “Any specific idea where to afterwards? I can think of a couple places, but never really had reason to know all the gemshops and suppliers here.”
“There’ll be jewelers or their ilk around,” Twilight insisted. “We’ll work something out.”
Their hooves clunked on the aged wood as they stepped out onto the bridge. At a full forty-feet wide and thrice that in length, with support beams running down both the sides and centre, Twilight could see why Squirrel had wanted them to see it.
“It’s best with the view,” Squirrel said happily, guiding them towards the rightmost side.
Icicles hung from the eaves above, dripping steadily over the edge; despite being outdoors, and with a breeze to boot, the air was fairly warm thanks to the line of heating blocks suspended in the rafters above. Twilight could make out carvings, woven chains and coloured bands wrapped around many of the beams, while decorative fret- and metalwork designs covered most every surface.
The three of them reared up and leaned against the low side wall; before them sprawled the glacial trough they’d come in over, dotted all the more clearly in the morning light with little clumps of buildings and terraces. Between the freshly fallen snow and the morning light, it looked quite spectacular.
“It looks lovely, Squirrel,” Twilight said. “I can see why you wanted us to see it.”
“Meh. Looks better from the air.”
Twilight poked her in the ribs. “Be nice, Dash. I was including the bridge itself in that.”
Squirrel, who had looked a touch put-out at first, perked back up. “Oh, yeah! See all the designs? They tell the stories of how things were back when the city was warring with the changelings. There,” she said, pointing to the near side, “is where everything started, the centre bit has the peace treaty, and the far bit’s all about the adventures of Kir and Twist. Great stuff,” she added with a pleased grin.
There was a lot there to unpack. “Kir and Twist?” Twilight ventured first.
“Pretty sure they were real,” Squirrel nodded, leaning her back against the guardrail. “The mountains around here were reeeally dangerous back then – that’s why we were fighting, but also why we stopped. Bunch of stories about the two of them fighting dragons and finding arcana in ancient grottos – fun stuff.”
“Really?” Rainbow asked with an interested look. “Any good books? I don’t mind the occasional one, if there’s a lot of action.”
While the two of them chatted, Twilight turned back to gaze out over the valley; it wasn’t the type of scenery she’d thought she’d be seeing scant weeks ago. Somewhere beyond the horizon lay Hurricanum, so many hundreds of miles away; despite the literal distance she was from the city, though, it didn’t feel that far off.
Perhaps because, no matter what, I’m always thousands of miles from home?
The sliver was probably a bust game – she’d always known that, really – but she couldn’t find herself regretting the extra trip.
“So whatever happened to them?” Rainbow asked, drawing Twilight’s attention back to the conversation.
“Well, some say they fell in love and got married, but I think – “
“No, no, no,” Rainbow said, cutting her off. “The changelings. Where’d they all go?”
Twilight turned back around fully to face the two of them – she was curious herself, given how just about everything changeling-related back home was pure myth and conjecture.
But Squirrel was giving them an odd look. “What do you mean?”
“What do you mean, ‘what do you mean’?”
Squirrel blinked slowly, nonplussed. “They’re... still here? I mean, we’ve met a few on the trip already.”
She was met with blank stares. “Wait,” Twilight said, finally finding her voice. “We have?”
“Well... yes? Are – wait, are ‘lings not a thing back in Equus?”
Twilight’s mind was running in overdrive, but she took care to stick to just one question at a time. “If they are, no one knows – not really.” She spoke slowly and hesitantly, distracted as she was trying to figure when they’d apparently bumped into a few. “There’s a lot of speculation, however.”
“Huh,” Squirrel said, still looking pleasantly bemused. “So we’ve got the ‘lings, and you’ve got the buffalo. Neat.”
Meanwhile, Rainbow’s tail had started to twitch. “Oh ho!” she grinned. “Hold on – I think I know who’s who.”
“Wait – really?” Twilight said, shooting her a surprised look – she knew Rainbow was in some respects a great deal more observant than her, but she didn’t think she was this much so.
“Oh, yeah,” Rainbow said, still smirking as she buffed a hoof unnecessarily against her jacket. “Super obvious, really.”
“It’s only polite,” Squirrel added, clearly enjoying the tease. “It’s not needed of course – but, polite.”
Twilight huffed and gave them both a telekinetic poke. “Spill!”
Rainbow snorted. “It’s the scarves thing, isn’t it? How they’re all green? ‘Cause I definitely noticed it was a bit weird so many random people were wearing them.”
“Yep,” Squirrel smiled with a bob of her head. “Some sort of green neckerchief is normal – like their magic, see?”
She started saying something else, but Twilight’s mind had practically ground to a halt. “Wait,” she spluttered. “Crest is a changeling!?”
“Figures you’d focus on that one,” Squirrel muttered with an amused huff. “I guess he technically mightn’t be, but as it’s... weird, I guess? To wear one if you’re not a ‘ling, I mean. So... probably, yes.” She scuffed the floor sheepishly. “I didn’t think you didn’t know.”
Twilight said something vaguely conciliatory, but she was still caught up in cataloguing every person they’d met so far, and there were a great deal with greenish neckbands.
She jumped slightly when she felt a poke in her side. “Hey,” Rainbow said softly. “Does it even matter? I mean, so what if the sire that sent us here is a changeling.”
“Are your stories about them bad in some way?” Squirrel added, now looking slightly worried.
“No, no,” Twilight said, hurrying to assuage her. “I’m just surprised – that’s all.” Surprise was an understatement; admittedly, it probably shouldn’t be – there was no reason changelings couldn’t both exist and be well-integrated here.
“Wait,” Rainbow said suddenly. “Wait, wait, wait – does that mean if one of them looks like me, they’ll be as fast as me? ‘Cause if so, that’s cheating.”
Squirrel snorted. “It’s mostly visual, I think? And their shape can change a little. I, uh, never really asked one before.”
Remembering Squirrel’s ignorance of many things basic to unicorns alone, Twilight didn’t doubt this. “Fair enough,” she said; eying Rainbow, she could see she held pretty much the same opinion. “Will this... help? I mean, the fact that it was a changeling that sent us here to find a tom?”
Squirrel gave her a friendly pat on the withers. “There’s no secret cabal of ‘lings, Sparkle: it doesn’t change anything.”
Twilight wilted. “I guess it does sound rather silly, huh.”
Squirrel just gave her another pat.
“Well anyways!” Twilight half-shouted as she fought down her blush. “This is a very nice bridge, Squirrel. Very nice.”
“Very wooden, yes,” Rainbow agreed, stepping over to give Twilight a pat of her own. “We’re get you through this somehow, Twi,” she added with a smirk.
Twilight grumbled as she slowly started to carry on down the bridge. “So, then – it’s all stories over this end?”
Squirrel snorted one last time as she and Rainbow hurried to join her. “Yeah. They won’t make much sense – the pictures, that is – if you don’t already know the tales, but the art’s pretty good either way.”
Twilight couldn’t argue with that.
Much as before, the bridge’s far side opened up into a wide, low-ceilinged alcove from which branched many paths and stairwells themselves squished between storefronts and workshops. “We’re going down from here,” Squirrel said as she directed the two to one of the many side corridors. It’d been more than a few years since she’d had cause to come down here, but despite the new shops and some woodwork she didn’t think was there before, she still remembered the way. “Just a level or two, depending on how you count it.”
The others nodded distractedly, still likely caught up in the accidental changeling revelation. It seemed bizarre to her that there wouldn’t be at least some ‘lings in quiet little hives throughout their continent, but perhaps they just never settled there?
The Stile market was a multi-tiered mess of wooden platforms, narrow, rickety staircases and cramped, over-stocked stores all built into what was once a great wyverns’ nest, long ago. Shardlight reflected off vitrified grooves and divots, while a steady breeze cut through the old entrances north and south; it was noisy and crowded.
“We’ll want to go nearer the bottom,” Squirrel said, calling slightly over her shoulder until the other two caught up, pressing close beside her. “Jackets and scarves, right?”
“Mmhmm,” Twilight nodded, looking overwhelmed as she cast her eyes about the veritable labyrinth.
“It’s only a maze if you don’t know the pattern,” Squirrel was quick to reassure her.
“Like the rest of this place,” Rainbow added.
“Exactly.”
One of the simplest ways to get around was just to use any of the floor-to-ceiling access wells scattered about the walls. The rigging swayed gently with every step as they descended the nearest, something that even experience hadn’t stopped Squirrel from getting spooked by; nevertheless, the sooner they were done, the sooner they were out.
“We’re here, I think?” Squirrel said as she stepped clumsily onto a floor that felt about right; behind her, Twilight hurried off, looking just as relieved.
“Isn’t there some other way back up?” she asked, glaring at the steps behind her.
“There’s always the outer ramps,” Squirrel said. “Actually, with some proper cold-weather gear that might just be the way.” She hated shopping here.
What followed was a great deal of searching and fussing – far more than she’d’ve thought the two of them capable of. “Spoiled for choice, eh?”
Rainbow tossed a thin beige scarf back onto its pile, ignoring the scandalized look from the cashier. “Well, why not? Might as well keep looking if we’ve got the time.”
“So you’re definitely keeping your old jacket, then? ‘Cause if so, just get another thin one to go overtop.”
“I guess,” Rainbow shrugged before heading over to join Twilight. Neither of them seemed particularly happy about any of this, but perhaps it was just the market? It was awfully loud here.
Eventually, they managed to settle on something nice. “It fits pretty well,” Twilight said as she minutely adjusted her scarf and overcoat. “Although the touque’s a bit pink for me.”
“Should’ve been like me and not gotten one,” Rainbow said. She’d been ruffling her wings around in their new loops for the last few minutes, muttering all the while that her own was too stiff. “Or maybe I should’ve? I’ll totally need to get my own changeling souvenir at some point, too.”
“The horn-gap’s not right,” Twilight muttered. “It’s too low.”
“Well, it wasn’t made for unicorns.”
They stepped out onto one of the outer ramps. As ever, a chill breeze blew across the peak; glancing at the other two, they seemed to be weathering the cold much better than before. “All good?”
Twilight smiled at her. “Much better.”
“Yep.”
“Great!” Squirrel said. “So... where next?”
“Lapidaries.”
“Naturally,” Squirrel drawled. “I suppose we can pick up some lunch a bit later. Rainbow?”
Rainbow gave her an odd look. “As if I’d turn down lunch.”
“No, I meant where’re the gem shops? You kind of said you were scouting around yesterday.”
“Oh! Right. Let’s see now...” Rainbow paced along the walkway, looking this way and that. “I got the impression this peak had some near the very bottom.”
“Ah,” Twilight sagged unhappily. “Not going to be nice, walking all the way back up.”
“It won’t be too steep if we just stick to the ramps,” Squirrel said. “Let’s get to it.”
The trip to the bottom was surprisingly pleasant, Twilight found. The touch of downhill backed by the constantly varied sights as they wove between mountain vistas, cramped side-passages, garden caverns and even past a lively schoolfront, made the whole thing rather enjoyable.
She was still dreading the inevitable walk back up, however.
“You can’t see them with all the snow,” Squirrel said, continuing her lecture. “But there’re several cobbled roads that run through the valley: most trade comes through these, rather than by air.” The mare seemed determined to play the tour guide now that she was somewhere familiar.
Twilight was doing her best to seem interested. “Where do they come from? Surely not all the way from Weld.”
“Oh no,” Squirrel said with a wave of her hoof. “There’re a lot of mining towns all over the range, and a bunch more besides on the southern rivers. Heck, last I heard most of the food we can’t grow here comes from the lakeside up north, ‘bout halfway to ‘Down.”
“Mmhmm.” She tried not to sigh.
“Oh thank goodness,” Rainbow muttered from the lead. “We’re here!”
Twilight rounded the stony bend to find herself facing a sort of open-sided warehouse. Built onto a single, great raised platform, with an angled roof supported by scaffolds, was what looked like one massive collection of forges, drop-hammers and metal-bending equipment, alongside so many other things she couldn’t guess the nature of.
“Never been down here before,” Squirrel said conversationally. “It’s kind of loud, isn’t it.”
Twilight flinched as the booming clang of a weight as large as she was resounded along the cliff face. “No kidding. Let’s be quick.”
Off to one side and built atop cleared areas of scree were a series of buildings, their lines descending towards the valley below. “You sure this is what we want, Dash?”
“I checked – they don’t look pretty, but they do sell; I think it’s just that they normally sell it to businesses or whatever.”
“Locals wouldn’t bother to buy raw ore or unprocessed gems,” Squirrel agreed. “The plan’s to name-drop Crest, I take it?”
Twilight nodded. “That seems simplest.”
“So no deal, huh.” Rainbow sagged against the dirty desk, tucked away as it was in the back of the shop.
The grey-feathered tom shrugged. “Slivers are hardly common; doubt anyone that had one would want to give it up just because you asked, either.”
Rainbow gave him another look. A smirk shone back at her from under his oversized ushanka; a faint hissing noise at ground level betrayed his swishing tail. He’s holding something back, Rainbow frowned as she thought quickly to herself. And he’s been teasing me just like Gilda would, which means... “But I’m sure a rakish tom like you wouldn’t hold back just because I’m a stranger, riiight?” she teased liltingly, fluffing out her wings as she gave her best attempt at doe eyes.
The tom barked in honest laughter. “Subtle,” he said, finally starting to relax.
“Yes, well,” Rainbow flushed, stammering. “Nevermind that. But you clearly know something about the sliver – I can tell that much, sooo... tell me please?” She resisted the urge to stamp and whine like a filly – she had a feeling he’d find it funny enough to open up some more, but she had some dignity.
“Already done flirting?” he grinned, shifting to rest his chin on a taloned palm. “Such as it was?”
Rainbow huffed. “Well I had to try something, didn’t I?” She flopped down limply on a nearby chair, sending little puffs of dust flying. “I know – I suck at it. Seriously though, do you know anything about this sliver thingy? Some ‘ling over in Drizzle pointed us over here, and it’s been a heckuva trip.”
The tom leaned forwards, looking interested for the first time. “Drizzle, eh? Sounds like Crest.”
Rainbow’s ears perked as she shot back up. “You know him?”
He shrugged. “Done business with him, sure – a little, not much. Haven’t heard anything about this, though.”
Rainbow wilted back into her seat. “Oh.”
“Tell you what,” the tom sighed. “You seem nice. And weird.” He drummed his talons on the desk. “Mostly weird. There’s an odds and ends shop up near the Cast drydocks; can’t say they’ll have anything, but I do know Crest’s gone through them a few times for rare items. They might have what you’re looking for.”
Rainbow leapt right back up. “Awesome – thanks! I’ll head out right away and leave you to your... whatever it is you’re doing.” She was already heading to the door even as the tom rolled his eyes and made shooing motions with his claws.
She blinked as she stepped back out into daylight, leaving the gloomy interior behind. The street was muddy and rutted, with deep drifts of brown slush built up on the banks. “This way, I think,” Rainbow muttered to herself as she set off down the road; the three of them had split up, looking to cover as much ground as possible.
A shower of sparks spilled out of a corner workshop, the little pinpricks of light dancing across the polished stone and out into the muck; coarse shouting rang out after them. She trotted across the street, her ears twitching and folding against the squealing, screeching onslaught of zephyric cutters pouring out of bay doors across the way. She had no idea how anybody managed to work in places like that without going deaf and had more than half a mind to take to circling well above until the other two showed themselves when she spied a splash of lavender down an alley.
“There you are,” Rainbow called out as she hurried towards Twilight, glad that she was able to make her out despite how heavily dressed she was. “Find anything?”
Twilight strode out to meet her, frowning. “A headache, mostly,” she said, glaring at the many workers around. “How are they not deaf?”
Rainbow snorted. “Maybe they are? My tom said there’s a shop up near the top of Cast that we should ask around at.”
“Oh!” Twilight said, smiling now even as she flinched from the newest battery of sounds. “Great! Let’s find Squirrel and get the heck out of here.”
It only took a bit of poking around to find the mare chatting away with some off-duty workers. “Squirrel!” Twilight called out once they were near. “Find anything?”
Squirrel glanced over at them with a shrug. “Pettle here thinks we might have more luck at the traveller’s atrium, and I’m inclined to believe her.”
“That’s two spots, then; we should get going,” Twilight said, flinching once again as a heavy clang rang out around them.
Squirrel nodded cheerfully enough and waved goodbye to the machinists; it was blessedly soon, then, that they were ascending the long outer ramps once again.
“That,” Rainbow said, worried she might be shouting without even realising it, “was waaay too noisy.”
“Yes. Yes it was,” Squirrel agreed. “I always figured it’d be – the sounds can echo all the way to the peak if the wind’s right – but geez, yeah, that was bad.”
“At least we got something out of it,” Twilight said. “The traveller’s atrium and a curios shop up Cast.”
“Oh! Is that what you found out, then?”
“Yeah,” Rainbow nodded. “Supposed to’ve done business with Crest at some point – the tom I was talking to said they might be able to help.”
“We’ve a plan, then.”
Twilight strode at the rear of the group, preferring to let the others push through the cannon-deep snow first. They were somewhere near the top of Cast; despite being the shortest of the peaks, it was still a tiring trek all the way up this far.
While the noise and clamour of the workshops had faded behind them some turns ago, a new irritant was building – that of the constant grinding and hammering of the drydocks. “And you’re certain it’s not as bad?”
“Yes, Twi,” Rainbow huffed, looking back at her just long enough to roll her eyes. “It’s all normal-volume stuff; if your ears are ringing, it’s from before.”
Twilight grumbled – her ears were still ringing, and it was more than half distracting; a rainbow tail-flick across the muzzle didn’t help, either.
“Cheer up, Twi,” Rainbow said, not looking at all bothered by her scowl. “We’ll find some lunch first.”
Twilight quietly hated that she did feel cheered up by that.
The passages up here – across this whole peak, really – were far more open and airy than the others: stone floors as often went straight as crooked or ran over short bridges revealing other floors above and below; great, mirror-bounced shafts of sunlight would light cozy alcoves or just plain stone, while the near omnipresent crowds had a relaxed feel to them that reminded her of home.
It was little later that saw Rainbow directing them towards a tiny ten-seater restaurant sitting on the corner of an oddly-shaped intersection. ‘Too small to serve anyone but the neighbours,’ Rainbow had said. ‘So if it sucks, it would’ve gone outta business by now.’ There was enough logic to that that, despite its somewhat decrepit appearance, Twilight was willing to give it a try.
They settled down on a triplet of barstools – the restaurant was really just an L-shaped bar looking out into the street – and started looking over the brightly-lit hanging menus. “So,” Squirrel said. “I’m pretty sure it’s all industry after another floor or so up, so the curios place has got to be around here somewhere close.”
Rainbow shrugged. “Then we ask around.”
“That’s what I meant.”
The fare was quick, fast-fried stuff – all noodles and vegetables and strips of meat. While none of them cared to try the latter, the food was otherwise quite nice.
“Good call, Rainbow,” Squirrel said as she unabashedly licked her bowl clean. “Very good.”
Twilight side-eyed the mare disapprovingly. “Yes – agreed.”
Rainbow smiled as she gave her empty bowl a spin, the ceramic clattering on the wooden bartop. “Awesome! Sliver time, then.”
The cook – who was not wearing a green neckerchief, as Twilight found she’d unconsciously checked for – seemed to know what they were looking for, having directed them towards the far face, and while it might end up being a dud, it still felt good to have direction.
“Alright,” Squirrel said once they’d seemed to be nearing their destination. “We should play this one cool – only look a little interested in a ‘we thought it sounded neat, but only if it’s not too much’ kind of way.”
“But what if we offend them?” Twilight countered, having intended to, essentially, just pay whatever they wanted if it got them the sliver. “They might not want to deal with us.”
“They wouldn’t be much of a shopkeep if they were offended that easily.”
Twilight frowned, but kept her peace – she knew she was lousy when it came to haggling, so she’d have to trust them to take the lead and do it well.
As they neared the far side the light changed from the clean whites of shards and sunlight to colours of many hues: ahead, fully two-stories tall, was a bank of stained-glass windows mounted in elaborate wrought-iron casings; the afternoon sun shone through, if only just.
The windows appeared to be depicting miners – gnolls and pyre dragons alike – working the mountains alongside ponies and gryphons tending fields and rivers; behind, the three peaks of Snowbound rose prominently in front of a rising sun.
“Well, he didn’t mention this,” Twilight said, stepping close to admire the details. “Squirrel?”
Squirrel shrugged, her gaze locked on the work herself. “Haven’t seen this one since I was a filly, with it being so far out of the way. There’re a few pretty sights like this, scattered all about. Something about not being a tourist town, I think – you don’t need to cluster all the artistic things together for easy sightseeing.”
“Curios down this way,” Rainbow said, interrupting the two of them. “Can see a bit of a sign.”
Squirrel gave a pleased nod. “Oh good – we’ve found it.”
Twilight turned away from the glass to follow the other two down the cliffside hall. A few shops littered the inner side with their overflow stacked up against the outer, itself now covered in thick, insulated windows at odd intervals. Their signs hung out over the hallway on thin chains; thrift stores, from the looks of it, but one of them seemed to be the one they sought.
“’Westside Curios and Bargains,’” Twilight read aloud. “I suppose it’s serviceable, as names go.” Their merchandise looked as varied as the name suggested, and almost entirely mundane to boot. “We sure this is the right place?”
“Only one way to find out,” Rainbow said as she led the way in.
The place smelled dry and musty as they squeezed between racks and shelves. Sidling past a lumpy pile of sweaters they emerged next to what was quite possibly a counter, hidden somewhere beneath the myriad pots and pans stacked atop. “Hello?” Rainbow called out towards the backroom. “Anyone there?”
While she and Squirrel were busy rapping their hooves politely on the counter, Twilight sidled over to a stack of old, dry books, their spines cracked and peeling. A glance at their bindings revealed textbooks, far older than she, on subjects now grossly outmoded. “’Quantitative Forecasting,’” she muttered to herself. “’Rynn’s Works on Tri-set Crosspieces.’” She clucked her tongue. “Out of date.”
“That’s probably why they’re here,” Squirrel said, having wandered over to join her. “’Out of date’ doesn’t mean useless, either, mind you.”
Twilight clucked her tongue. “I suppose so...” she trailed off vaguely. “It’s still not very scholarly.”
Squirrel just shrugged.
There was a hurried tapping of claws on wood as a diminuitive hen appeared at the entrance only to just as quickly hurry down one of the aisles, reappearing again behind the counter. “I’m sorry about that!” she said with a worried look. “I’d just popped by next door – it’s been quiet all day and, well...”
“It’s fine,” Rainbow said, waving her off. “But hey, we were wondering if you could help us.”
While Rainbow talked, Twilight found her eyes drawn to the dark green shemagh around the hen’s neck. She found herself bizarrely put off all of the sudden, a thought which left her feeling almost... embarrassed: of what consequence should it be that she was actually a changeling?
A sudden nudge jolted her out of her reverie. “Hey,” Rainbow said, giving her another poke. “You can’t be that tired, Twi.”
Twilight blinked and gave her head a shake, doing her utmost to clear the frown from her face. “Sorry – zoned out there.”
“No kidding,” Rainbow said, still giving her a worried look. “Keen here needs a little more info on this sliver.”
“Ah, yes,” the hen – Keen – said nervously. “I’m not really familiar with that name specifically, but I do think it sounds familiar – maybe it’s called something different to me? In my catalogues, I mean.”
Twilight nodded, taking care to look the cashier in her eyes as she spoke. “It’s mana made manifest; they form sometimes at grand leylines. It’ll look a lot like clouded quartz, but should be phenomenally dense, magically.” Before she’d even finished speaking, the hen had started smiling and rubbing her beak sheepishly.
“Yes, I know it – should’ve right away, really, once you mentioned Crest. He’d asked for a talon of Cos, but they’re the same thing, aren’t they.”
“Gryphon hero,” Squirrel added for their benefit. “Some fun legends there.”
Keen nodded vigourously. “Yes. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a hold of it – there were some... problems, I was told.”
“Problems?” Rainbow asked as she leaned over the counter to give the hen a poke. “Don’t leave us hanging!”
“Well I don’t know specifically,” Keen said, swatting away Rainbow’s hoof. “It was coming from up in ‘Down, but the shipment of this-and-that I had coming in just said they couldn’t get their hooves on it; since it was so time-sensitive for Crest I didn’t ask them to keep trying, and my boss didn’t, either.”
“Could it still be up there?” Twilight asked. “That is, if we went up there, do you think it likely they’ll have it?”
Keen shrugged. “Don’t know – really depends on just how they weren’t able to get it for me.”
Twilight was lost in thought as they left the shop and started on back down. While she hated the idea of getting caught up on some sort of wild goose chase – which chasing this thing up to ‘Down, wherever that was, would certainly constitute – she knew she’d probably regret having come this far just to give up now. Their money was still doing alright, so costs weren’t the issue, but what she’d been able to learn of the city’s environs back in ‘Canum was virtually nil – with the exception of Snowbound, everything else was simply too small to be worth noting, at least for her large-scale maps.
Of course, there was still a chance that the traveller’s atrium held one. “Should we head back up to the main docks?”
“Might as well,” Squirrel said. “I’ve still that tip that there might be one up at the atrium, too, so we’d need to check it out sometime, anyways.”
They followed meandering halls until they once again found themselves at one of the several wire-bridges that connected Cast and Stile; a few snowflakes fluttered down in the chilly air. “So,” Rainbow said. “What about this ‘Down place?”
“Hmm?” Twilight looked up, grateful for the distraction – she could swear she’d felt the bridge sway underhoof. “It’s... a bit much to go to yet another city, though, isn’t it? We’d have even less to go on, too.”
“I guess...” Rainbow said, although she sounded less than convinced. “Squirrel?”
They’d nearly crossed the bridge before she spoke. “Well, I’ve never been there myself,” Squirrel said slowly. “And Shade-Under-Down is a good ways to the north; that said, it’s Avalon’s last burrow, and given how weird you’re being about changelings, Sparkle, it might do you some good to go up there and see them.”
While the idea of the last burrow had definitely caught her attention, Twilight found herself focusing on an entirely different point. “What do you mean, ‘how weird I’ve been’!”
Squirrel looked away with a blush. “Well I mean... you know... Rainbow?”
“Ahh,” Rainbow said, looking uncharacteristically hesitant. “It’s just that you’ve been kinda staring, Twi.”
“Staring! I have not.” Except for the thrift store hen, of course.
“You kinda have.”
“I was sort of meaning to bring that up,” Squirrel added. “You do know that changelings don’t, like, kidnap people and take their place, right? Or eat them or anything?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Twilight huffed, torn between equal parts mortification and indiginity. “I know that.”
“Then what is it?”
Unfortunately, Twilight wasn’t certain. Maybe there was some sort of body-swap fear going on? To be unable to trust that someone was, in fact, that someone despite that they looked and sounded like them? “I guess I’m just... uncomfortable with the idea that I could be talking to a, oh I don’t know, a friend or something, only to find out that they were just some sort of doppelganger.”
Rainbow slowed up enough to give her a nuzzle. “But you’d be able to tell if they did, wouldn’t you? Like, Squirrel here said that they can’t copy abilities or anything, and it’d definitely be dumb if they could take memories or just magically know how to talk like somebody else does; plus, there’s totally gotta be spells and stuff that could find them out even if they could.”
“She’s right,” Squirrel said as she gave her a friendly nudge of her own. “The spells to catch them out are centuries old now. No idea how they work, mind, but I do know they exist. Really though, the worst thing a changeling’ll do is be a bit too kinky for you in the bedroom.”
Twilight couldn’t help laughing. “Oh wow – I hadn’t even thought of that.”
“Seriously?” Rainbow gave her a bemused look. “That was the first thing that came to my mind once Squirrel said they were real.”
Twilight rolled her eyes with a sigh: she was feeling better already. “Naturally.”
“But just think about it!” Rainbow insisted. “All the possibilities!”
“Uh huh.”
While Rainbow continued to extol the virtues and wonders of a changeling lover, Twilight tried to decide just where she stood on visiting the city – certainly the idea of exploring such a place was beyond tempting, but she was still hesitant to extend their detour. “So what do you two think?” she asked, interrupting Rainbow’s fantasies. “Should we head north and keep chasing the sliver?”
“Oh yeah, definitely,” Rainbow agreed immediately. “We’ve come this far, and how can we say ‘no,’ anyways? It’s a changeling city! Everyone’s gonna be sooo jealous once we get back.”
“As good a reason as any, I suppose. Squirrel?”
“I’m game.”
“Well. That’s settled, then.” And it was; quicker than she’d’ve thought, too, but she wasn’t about to complain about that. “We can check out the flights when we’re back up at the docks.”
Twilight’s legs were beginning to ache. According to Squirrel, they were only a couple levels beneath the atrium; having spent the entire day thus far ascending and descending the peaks, she was more than ready for a break. “I’m beginning to suspect that everyone that lives here must have amazing leg-strength.”
“Or wings,” Rainbow added, looking forlornly at her own – she’d lose track of them too easily if she took off.
“Which, come to think of it, most of the people here have,” Twilight said, frowning slightly at the realization. “The point is: my hooves hurt.”
“Bit early to stop for dinner,” Rainbow said. “Might be somewhere nice to rest for a sec?”
“No,” Twilight said, shaking her head before Squirrel could respond. “Let’s just get this done.”
Squirrel nodded along agreeably. “Right then. The workers’ suggestions seemed based around the outer ring – that bit we walked past on the way in, yesterday. They couldn’t give a specific shop name, however.”
“Better than nothing,” Rainbow said. “Let’s just poke around the place til dinner, then I’ll find us somewhere good to eat; we can search some more after that, I guess.”
“Or just leave it til tomorrow,” Twilight agreed, still privately eager to find a place to sit. “There’s no real rush.”
The atrium seemed as busy as last time, with crowds of travellers and off-duty sailors moving about the space. This time around, without Twilight’s chill to worry about, Rainbow was able to notice and focus on all the crooked branching side passages, with all their little tells of business within, from the tips of hanging signs to the subtle, telling movements of passersby. Considering just how big this place suddenly seemed to be, she’d hate to have had to search every single one.
They crossed through the centre, now lit more by shardlight than sun, and down the winding flight of steps. “I think we’ll probably want to circumnavigate the whole floor,” Squirrel said. “Might be best to stick together, too.”
“So we can gang up on ‘em in the negotiation,” Rainbow agreed. “And keep Twi from staring while we’re at it.”
“That too, yes.”
“Hey!” Twilight said indignantly. “I must still insist that I wasn’t that obvious.”
Rainbow smirked and gave her a pat on the withers. “We’ll get you through this somehow, Twi.”
Her friend just grumbled.
“Well that’s a bust,” Rainbow muttered; beside her, Twilight continued her pout.
“I still say they were being rude about it.”
“We’re not disagreeing with you, Twi.”
“There was no call for it at all.”
Squirrel cleared her throat. “While I’ll admit they were a bit... brusque, you do have to also admit our request is an odd one.”
“Yes, but calling us a bunch of loony-bin tourists?” Twilight scoffed. “The workers down below were far nicer.”
“Maybe they’re used to it?” Rainbow suggested. “Getting specific requests for rare things, I mean. Everyone up here probably just deals with whatever boring things the passing ships need.”
“Exactly,” Squirrel agreed.
They’d just about run the gauntlet of workshops and likely-looking supply stores on the outer ring to no avail; Rainbow wasn’t feeling much bothered by this, though, as it wasn’t as if they didn’t already have a lead. “Is there any point in checking out the others? Such as there is? ‘Cause I’m hungry.”
“And tired,” Twilight added.
“Amateurs,” Squirrel chuffed, looking no worse for wear. “But sure – I’m game for an early dinner. Can’t say I know of any good places up here – just lots of in-and-outs.”
Rainbow hurried to take the lead. “I’ll find us something.”
And she did. She’d had a feeling that one of the tidier alleys would have something small and family-run, and while it took a few tries – and a few floors – to find something, she nevertheless did.
“Cozy,” Twilight noted as they stepped inside.
Rainbow nodded. From what she could tell, it was mostly a vegetarian affair, which would be nice – even fish was something that she didn’t like having more than a couple times a week.
Soon enough they’d settled down and ordered. “So,” Rainbow began. “It’s boat time again?”
“By which you mean we need to find a transport heading north?” Twilight led questioningly before Rainbow nodded. “In that case, yes. How often do ships head up there?”
“Probably not that often,” Squirrel frowned. “There wasn’t much back when I used to live here, at any rate; we should start asking around as soon as we’re done eating.”
Rainbow shuffled irritably in her seat: she wasn’t liking the idea of hanging around for however-many days until a flight came through.
Twilight sighed, having noticed Rainbow’s discomfort. “If we can’t get anything within a reasonable amount of time, then we just won’t go – we don’t actually have unlimited time for the trip, after all. Or funds, for that matter.”
Squirrel drummed a hoof idly on the table’s edge. “We’ll find out after this.”
There weren’t more than a few ready-looking ships moored across the scattered berths – so few that they decided to stick to their plan of staying together. “Did you see anything docked on the middle peak?” Twilight asked as they passed through one of the gusty gatehouses and out into the late-afternoon light. “I wasn’t paying enough attention earlier.”
Rainbow shrugged. “A couple small things near the top; there weren’t much in the way of docks on... Stile, I think it was.”
“Stile, yeah,” Squirrel agreed. “And anything on Cast’ll be under repairs or refits, so that entire peak’s out.”
“Right,” Twilight said, pausing a moment to snug up her new scarf. “I suppose we’re about to find out how the rest of this trip’s about to go.”
They trekked down the nearest of the occupied arms, minding their footing as they walked on windswept, slush-covered gantries. From what Twilight could see, the biggest ships – such as the one they were heading for now – all ran balloons in one eccentric configuration or another, while the smaller ones tucked about hither and thither were all rigged with sails. “Commercial versus pleasure, I suppose?”
“Hmm?” Squirrel said, glancing back at her before turning to follow her gaze. “Oh, yeah. Ideally we’d get on one of the tris’ls – they’re faster, and I kind of doubt any of the cargo vessels are heading out to ‘Down.”
“So what you’re saying is, we’re wasting our time on this one,” Rainbow said with a grunt.
“It’s the nearest ship, Dash,” Twilight chided her. “It’s still worth a shot.”
“I guess.”
Unfortunately, by the time they’d managed to both get to the ship and call someone over – there was no gangway down, oddly – they’d found that their approach may’ve been lacking in something.
“No,” the irritated-looking pony called over to them. “Do we look like a ferry? Because I don’t think we look like a ferry. Now go away.”
“Geez, it’s just a question,” Rainbow huffed.
The pony snorted, frowning all the harder. “Is that what you call it? Bloody tourists.”
“Say that again,” Rainbow growled, her wings fluffing out.
The sailor just glared back. “Go. Away.”
They glared at each until Twilight spoke up softly. “Let’s go, Dash.”
Rainbow looked like she wanted to disagree for a moment before relenting. “Fine, fine,” she muttered before turning sharply and leading the three of them back the way they’d come. “What a jerk,” she said once they’d gone a little ways.
“I agree,” Twilight said, although she shot Squirrel a glare as she did. “Of course, it might’ve help if someone here didn’t look like they were about to break out laughing the whole time.”
“What!” Squirrel said, still clearly trying to hide a grin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh huh.”
“It’s just that, well, you know, you sort of went about it in a kinda-maybe funny sort of way?”
“Dash, poke her for me.”
“Ow!”
“Thank you, Dash.”
Squirrel squeezed past her to get some distance from Rainbow. “I’m just saying that flying over and knocking on the windows until someone shows up was maybe not the right way to go about things?” She still looked like she wanted to laugh.
Twilight gave her a look. “And the reason you didn’t think to say something earlier was...?”
“Oh, this was a test ship, of course,” Squirrel said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “There was no way they were going to try and get something of this tonnage all the way up to Shade.”
Twilight took a deep breath and tried counting to ten. “Squirrel,” she said, having made it all the way to five. “It’s late and my hooves are sore and my legs feel like lead from walking up and down these blasted peaks all day. Could you please just point us to a real ship?”
“Oh, right, sure,” Squirrel said, looking somewhat humbled. “We’ll want one of the pleasure craft – they’re far and again more likely to actually be heading up there already – Shade is a bit of a tourist destination, at least for those that can make the trip.”
Twilight merely nodded, focusing instead on not strangling the troublesome mare.
Having taken the lead, Squirrel led them directly towards a distant sailing ship, ignoring the nearest one entirely. ‘See how their anchors are missing and the lockers look open? I’ll bet they’re too busy with replacing the chain to fuss with us,’ she’d said in passing.
The twin-masted ketch they were aiming for looked in good nick, by Twilight’s estimation, although Rainbow was in some disagreement.
“This one’s a bust, too,” Rainbow said while they were still some good ways out. “There’s no wires.”
“Junk rig,” Squirrel answered immediately. “The masts would’ve fallen down, otherwise.”
“Oh goody – we’re literally trying to sail on a junk ship.”
Squirrel made an exasperated noise. “Never heard that one before.”
“Shut up.”
Squirrel snorted, but wisely changed the subject. “Alright, when we get there we’re gonna be subtle about things – no boarding, no knocking, no shouting. If they’re there, then there’s no way they wouldn’t just see it as rude.”
“Well, duh,” Rainbow scoffed, having apparently forgotten about the last ship.
“Riiight,” Squirrel drawled. “Maybe I’ll just take the lead?”
“That’s probably for the best,” Twilight agreed.
They were near enough for all three of them make out flickering lights through the frost-rimed portholes. “Someone’s home,” Rainbow muttered.
“Gangway’s down, too,” Twilight added. “So how’re we supposed to get their attention without boarding?”
“Burst-signal would be ideal,” Squirrel said as they walked down the length of the ship. “But I think even I would find a portable one of those heavy.”
Twilight rolled her eyes – from what she’d seen aboard the East Wind, the equipment here was no less bulky than back in Equus, so picking one up was never an option.
“Alright,” Squirrel continued once they’d reached the recessed centre cockpit. “I’ll go aboard and knock – you two stay here so we don’t look overwhelming.”
“Wait – didn’t you just say boarding and knocking was dumb?” Rainbow asked as the other mare stepped onto the gunwale.
“This’s an exception,” Squirrel said, waving her off as she ducked down out of view.
While Squirrel tried to get their attention, Twilight hunkered down unhappily in the lee of some spent ring-canisters; although she couldn’t deny a good part of her preferred having someone else do all the talking, she also couldn’t help feeling a touch miffed, as though she were missing out on learning something valuable.
“What’s up?” Rainbow asked as she settled in close to her. “You okay?”
“The new clothes are working well, yeah,” Twilight nodded, figuring that that was what she was talking about. “I’m still feeling uncomfortable with all this, though.”
“You mean the whole ‘hobos hitching rides on trains’ style of travel we’re doing?”
Twilight snorted softly. “Yeah – that.”
Rainbow gave her a little nudge. “Hey – don’t worry about it.” She paused to sweep the snow off a nearby tin before taking a seat on it. “They can always say ‘no.’”
“Still feels undignified.”
Rainbow shrugged irreverently. “Like Squirrel said – it’s a thing here. Besides, it’s that or walk.”
“I suppose.” She still felt weird and self-conscious about it all.
There was chatter aboard the ship, but it was all muffled from where they sat. “Think it’s going alright?”
“I hope so,” Rainbow said, as the sounds turned to laughter. “Like I said, it’s that or walk.”
Squirrel’s head suddenly reappeared, a large smile on her face. “Good news!” she said, sparing a glance back at the companionway. “Tassle and Fluff here are heading out to Shade in the morning and they don’t mind taking us along! For a, uhh, small fee,” she added hastily. “But small indeed! And you can’t beat the timing.”
Twilight heaved herself up, feeling once more energetic enough to keep moving. “That’s great! Getting back might still be an issue, but I’m sure we can sort something out once we’re there.” Hopefully.
“Nah, they’ll take us back with them when they’re done – we’re good. For that matter, hop on and say hello!”
Twilight stepped back into the gatehouse, revelling in the sudden, crisp warmth of the heating blocks. “Well, that went well.” And it had – after the hellos and how-do-you-dos were done, she’d found the two sailors were pretty easy-going and understanding; the fee was modest, too, and she could hardly blame them for it.
“Yep!” Squirrel agreed, looking inordinantly pleased with herself. “Not even leaving til well after dawn, too, so we can sleep in!”
“You’ll be staying with your folks, again, I presume?”
“Oh, yeah,” Squirrel said. “It’s convenient, and it’s nice spending time with them, too. I can just meet you two at the inn at... whenever, I suppose.”
“Eight-ish?”
“Sure.”
The walk back seemed to take ages, to Twilight’s tired legs – early or not, she fully intended to spend the rest of the evening sitting and working on her logs. “Some peace and quiet,” she muttered to herself. “That’s all I want.”
It was a sunny and brisk morning when the three ponies stepped out of the very gatehouse they’d first come in through just a couple days ago. They were headed towards the Settler, hoarfrost crunching underhoof, barely slowing down as they triple-checked their gear.
Or one of them did, at any rate.
“Yes, Twi,” Rainbow groaned. “I’ve got my share of the oatbars – we’re going to be fine.”
“Are you sure?” Twilight fretted, her horn aglow as she rifled through Rainbow’s flank satchels mid-walk. “Because there’s still time to go back if we hurry.”
Rainbow fidgeted as she resisted the urge to pull away. “We’re fine. You’ve already checked twice by now; plus, it’s not like Shade’s not a town or anything – they’ll have plenty of stuff there!”
“Should do,” Squirrel said, finally deciding to bail her out. “It’s a small town, but a town nonetheless: couldn’t be anything smaller seeing as there’s pretty much just changelings there.”
That got Twilight’s attention. “Oh? Why not?”
Squirrel looked confused for a moment before nodding. “Right – forgot. Changelings bleed magic like crazy: means they’ve either got to stick around some non-’lings that just sorta feed it back if they’re fond enough of them, or they’ve all got to stick together in a stable sort of hive. I think about it like trying to keep warm on a cold night: you either need a single fluffy duvet or a bunch of really thin ones to cozy up under.”
Twilight had spent her whole time listening nodding happily along. “Fascinating! Did you know there are several species of flowering plants that behave in much the same way? They need externally-derived ambient-mana-sources to survive, which in turn means they need to be grown by hoof or claw – they can’t survive in the wild.”
“Really?” Squirrel said, looking genuinely interested. “I hadn’t. Now I have heard of some mangroves down in the Tipples that are like that, and need some real careful tending to reach maturity, but flowers? No.”
Twilight hummed contemplatively. “The Isles? You know, those aren’t too far from Hurricanum...”
“Right, but hold on,” Rainbow cut in hastily, hoping to head off the excruitiatingly dull conversation before it built up any steam. “So changelings are basically plants, then? I mean, it’s kinda less sexy that way, I’ve gotta admit.” A bit clumsy, but it should do.
Twilight huffed and swatted her with her tail. “One-track mind there, Dash? I sincerely doubt changelings are plants, not least because it wouldn’t make a single iota of sense if they were – that’s just not how plants work.”
“Right,” Rainbow repeated cautiously. “So then... changelings are cold and need others to keep warm? Like, either one or two hot people, or a bunch of kinda warm ones?”
“Basically, yeah,” Squirrel said. “I think. Might be best to just ask once we get there?”
“Can’t imagine Twi’s the only one to ever be curious,” Rainbow nodded, quietly pleased to have moved the conversation safely away from plantlife. “So, sure.”
The Settler lay in her berth, her deck abustle as the two sailors – a unicorn, but also one of the seemingly rare wingless demigryphs – were busy readying her to sail. “Seems they’re almost good to go,” Twilight noted as they approached. “Good thing we didn’t go back after all.”
Like the previous trisails Rainbow’d been on, the Settler reversed slowly out of her mooring, her single prop whirring underneath. “I suppose one nice thing about no wires is we all get to sit up front, huh?”
“Yeah,” Twilight agreed. The sun was starting to rise fully over the mountains, bathing the three of them in its glow; from where they sat huddled at the bow its rays were feeble, but with a little luck would warm up nicely throughout the trip. “Much nicer than back in ‘Canum.”
“You actually could have a small stay and jib rigged up here,” Squirrel began before changing her mind. “But, uh, yeah – it’s nice.”
The sailors hadn’t seemed bothered in the least by their presence, presumably happy to keep them above deck as much as they could. Personally, Rainbow was feeling upbeat about it all – with such a clear deck she’d have the entire journey free to get some flying in, something which she’d not really had a good chance to do, lately. Admittedly, flying in the cold wasn’t nearly as fun as somewhere hot and coastal, what with the wonderful thermals those would have, but at this point she wasn’t going to complain.
Still best to wait until they’d gotten going, though.
“Ya know,” Rainbow said as the dockworks drifted by. “We’re almost done, aren’t we?”
Squirrel gave her a funny look. “Rainbow – we’re leaving the port, not arriving.”
Rainbow huffed. “Obviously. What I mean is, all we’ve got left to do is maybe find this sliver thing, right? ‘Cause then it’s just a case of dumping you off at Blanderbum and then boom! We’re back in ‘Canum again.”
“It’s Wanderbelle,” Squirrel said, giving Rainbow a poke in the side. “And you’re not ‘dumping me off’ – you’re accompanying me back home because you’re both so fond of me, and gracious, too, for all my excellent guidance.”
“Sure,” Rainbow smirked. “That’s totally what I meant.”
Twilight sighed. “Girls: peace. We’re not dropping her off like so much luggage – we’re fond of her, like she said.”
“And grateful for my guidance?”
“... We’re fond of her.”
Squirrel snorted, having walked right into that. “That’ll have to do, I suppose.”
There was a brief bit of shouting behind as the sailors warned them they were about to start hoisting the sails. “Mind our heads, eh?”
“Mmm,” Rainbow hummed, turning and rolling onto her back; from here, she could lazily watch the canvas unfold batten-after-batten, the fiddly connecting bits creaking and swivelling in the wind, all against the backdrop of a cloud-strewn sky. “Good napping spot,” she said, squirming in a futile attempt to find a comfy spot on the weathered teak. “Or at least with a few blankets it would be.”
“Didn’t you just wake up?” Squirrel asked. “Not even an hour ago?”
Rainbow shrugged. “It still counts as napping even you’re not sleeping – it’s the thought that counts.”
“Riiight,” Squirrel drawled uncertainly. “Well before you fall asleep or whatever, we should probably take a moment to plan out our next steps.”
“What’s to plan? Get there, find some shops and an inn, then ask around for a magic rock – easy peasy.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of budgeting for negotiations, or perhaps fallback plans if we get redirected to yet another city.”
“Oh, wow, I hope not,” Rainbow chuffed. “We’d cover the entire continent at that rate.”
“Rainbow’s right,” Twilight said. “Unless the sliver’s right next door – somehow – then this is our last hurrah.”
“Our last hurrah indeed,” Squirrel nodded. “It’s been an epic journey – all the way from that city to this other city – but all good things must end eventually.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes. “Yes, well, don’t worry – we’ll be dumping you off in Blunderbum before you know it.”
Squirrel laughed. “Geez! You wound me! But seriously though, this has been fun – having to go back to being a boring, super-stressed out cook again’ll feel weird.”
“You’ll manage,” Rainbow said. Quietly, a small part of her was feeling a bit put-out – while this whole trip to Avalon had ended up being less of an adventure than she’d hoped, it was nevertheless more of one than she’d expected; it would kinda suck for it to end. “Weather stuff is going to feel real dull after all this, too.”
“Yeah...”
“Well, unlike you two, I actually love my job,” Twilight said primly. “Once I’ve found a perfectly nice cliff to toss Cadance off of, I’m quite looking forward to settling back into the library.”
Twilight lounged on the foredeck; Squirrel was off chatting with the sailors about something or other, while Rainbow had gone off flying, her form only visible on the odd occasion she zipped close by, all of which left her some quiet time to simply enjoy the view.
Snow-crested mountains drifted slowly by some hundreds of metres below, their myriad valleys and gulchs filled with minute forests, meadows and streams. Under the late-morning sun, it looked entirely idyllic.
She shuffled in place, hunching down lower over the deck: with her muzzle tucked into her scarf and her touque pulled low, she was surprisingly cozy despite the frigid winds. She’d left her gear in the cockpit for safety, but she was hardly missing it – as much as she liked to use downtimes like this to plan things out, there really wasn’t anything to do – Shade-Under-Down was simply too much of an unknown.
So she decided instead to simply wait and, as ever, enjoy the view.
Twilight couldn’t imagine ever having to sail through something like this – she’d be lost in an instant! They were moving low through one of the countless snow-covered, tree-scattered troughs laying between mountain peaks and ridges that looked so much like every other peak and ridge that she knew she’d never have a hope in heck of remembering them later.
Tassle – the unicorn – was piloting right now, her eyes jumping rapidly between her compass and their surroundings; seated pressed up against the side of the ship’s dodger was Fluff, his muzzle held close to a mapbook as he occasionally called out directions and landmarks.
“Should be a river coming out of a gully on the right,” he said, flicking the map with a dulled talon. “’Bout ten miles out.”
Tassle grunted.
Twilight was doing her best to keep out of the way, both of the sailors and the wind. Apparently the town should be just around the next few peaks, but she’d yet to see anything in the way of roads, leaving her to wonder just how the place went about trading and travel. Admittedly, given how much the entire continent seemed to love building everything they could underground, she wouldn’t be surprised to hear there was a highway under these very trees.
She shuffled over to get closer to Squirrel. “So what kind of docks do they have here? Can’t be anything big.”
“I imagine it’ll be like Weld,” Squirrel said, looking pleased to have something to distract her from the cold. “Little scaffolds for us and empty fields for the big ones.”
Twilight nodded – she’d figured as much, but it wasn’t like she had anything else to do with her time. “And you’ve really never been there?”
“Because I grew up in Snowbound? Nah – I know it’s close and all, but vacations are things you do far away, you know? You don’t travel to the neighbouring town just to sightsee, no matter how neat it might be.”
“I guess...” Twilight trailed off uncertainly. “I can agree with the sentiment, at least.”
“Bit of a tourist back home, then, eh?” Squirrel said, pausing a moment to take a pull from her canteen. “What’re the places there like?”
Twilight thought about it a moment before replying. “Much more above-ground,” she decided on. “Grottos aren’t particularly common in Equus, although we’ve some very impressive cliffside castles. Otherwise... the scenery changes, but I suppose everything else remains more or less the same, bar the odd exception.”
“The same as everywhere, huh,” Squirrel chuffed. “Still, it must be nice to see two whole, different continents and all their cities and lakes and stuff, even if this one is a little... how did you once put it? ‘Quaint’?”
Twilight laughed and gave her a friendly shove. “Hey now, I’d like to think I’ve improved a bit since then!”
“Way back when, just a few weeks ago?” Squirrel grinned, shoving her back.
“I’m a fast learner,” Twilight drawled. “But seriously, you try learning about a new continent exclusively through its ivory tower, and see how you turn out.”
Squirrel chuckled. “’Ivory tower,’ eh? The diplomats that bad?”
“In hindsight? Oh, yeah.” Even now, she could hardly believe the disconnect between the people – Avalonians and Equusians alike – that worked in the diplomatic corps, and the actual reality of the lives around them. “Definitely happy to just stick with being a librarian.”
“Keep it simple, yeah,” Squirrel agreed. “Well, that and your projects.”
“Yep – that and my projects.”
“There it is.”
Twilight grunted as Squirrel pointed out the town, only just now coming into view despite that they were practically on top of it. Built on one of the few, relatively-flat outcroppings within the seemingly-endless field of mountains and valleys, Shade-Under-Down was... small, she decided. From what she’d been told, while at least some of it was built underground – for protection, given how dangerous many of the creatures still roaming the mountains were – most of the homes and workshops were built partially into the top-layer, their roofs covered in reedy grasses and the surrounding earth rising so high up their walls that there was often little more of the building visible than a chimney, door and windows. They were, in essence, burrows.
Heavily-clothed smudges could be seen walking through channels cut into the muzzle-deep snow. Almost all of them changelings, Twilight mused to herself, still feeling uncertain about them. “Where’s the docks?”
“’Round one of the ridges, I guess.”
The airship continued to slowly circle around to the far side, its main furled and its fins and mizzen at half. Twilight had done her best to pick up on what they were doing as they sailed – it seemed too valuable an opportunity to waste – and found herself pleasantly surprised that none of it looked that difficult; at least, the actual doing of the thing seemed easy – the trick seemed to be in knowing exactly what to do, and when. There were more than a few times that they’d quietly, mutually set about manipulating the sails or rigging, or redirecting the ship’s course from around this peak to around that other one, without any cause or trigger that Twilight could comprehend. Still, hoisting, furling and point-of-sail all looked fairly straightforward.
“I imagine a ship like this would cost a fortune,” Twilight half-asked.
“Tempting, isn’t it?” Squirrel said with a sly look. “It’s actually not that much – the problem’s the endless maintenance: after a decade or so, you’ve pretty much spent as much again on the dang thing as it cost in the first place.”
That sounded about right to Twilight -- sails tear, metal rusts and arcana fails, given enough time. “It was just a passing thought.”
The docks, such as they were, consisted of a paltry double-row of scaffolds barely three-stories tall and just long enough to hold a triplet of trisails; they were empty now, though, their walkways unplowed and their beams lined with icicles.
Rainbow stood waiting at the end of a hastily-cleared pier. “All good!” she yelled, waving up as the ship, her fins folded close against her hull, slowly drifted into berth.
It was moments later that Fluff started tossing down lines, Rainbow hurrying to tie them off on hastily-revealed bitts; soon enough, the Settler was down, her fenders bumping dully against the pier. “This sorta stuff would’ve been useful to know weeks ago, right Twi!” she shouted over teasingly as she finished up her cleat hitch.
“Uhh,” Twilight suddenly blushed, shooting the sailors self-conscious looks. “Yes. I imagine it would. We can definitely talk about that later, though, right?”
Rainbow snorted, but let it drop – she could always tease her later.
With the ship as secured as Rainbow could make it – and Fluff hurrying around double-checking her work – Squirrel and Twilight hopped off to join her, having bid their farewells to the sailors. “We’ll need to check in once or twice a day,” Squirrel said as they ploughed through the snow towards the nearest of the stairs. “That way we’ll know when they want to leave in time to hitch a ride back.”
“Sure, sure,” Rainbow agreed easily. “But in the meantime... now what?” From where they stood on the slope they could make out what looked like about a third of the town proper, but there didn’t seem to be anywhere to actually go.
“There were some major cuts on the far side,” Twilight said, pointing towards the rough, rocky arm that seemed to cleave the town in two. “Might be an agora.”
While Rainbow hadn’t made out anything like that on the way in, she wasn’t about to say no to a direction. “An inn, some shops, maybe a mysterious lappy shop that sells a sliver? Sounds good to me.”
“It’s ‘lapidary,’” Twilight muttered as they carried on slowly and awkwardly down the steps, having to go sideways as they worked through the two-feet of untouched snow. “Reeeally wishing my jacket covered my belly better right now.”
“No kidding,” Squirrel agreed.
Quietly of the same mind, Rainbow did the one thing that seemed sensible to her – she hopped off the side, wings flared, and took to the air.
“Lucky goof,” Squirrel grumbled as she watched the mare fly tight circles above. “Maybe we should’ve bought snowshoes?”
“Could pick some up here?” Twilight said, chuckling. “Might be a touch bulky, though.”
“Play it by ear, I suppose.” She eyed Twilight, who still seemed tense. “You doing okay?”
Her answer was a moody flick of the tail.
“I just mean, they’re not going to eat you or anything, if for no other reason than I’m pretty sure Rainbow would object.”
“She probably would,” Twilight agreed. “Unless she thought she could get some shapeshifting tail out of it,” she added with a laugh. “But, no, I’m fine – I just need to meet some, I think.”
“You technically already have,” Squirrel tried. “More than technically – literally. They just didn’t look like ‘lings, is all.”
“I know, I know, it’s just... ugh!” Twilight groaned and fell to muttering to herself.
For the life of her, Squirrel couldn’t figure out what the problem was: dragons breath flame, pegasi find north, and changelings shapeshift – that’s just what they do; still, there was a problem, and she was trying to work out how to fix it. “Maybe it would help if you imagined yourself as a ‘ling? As in, you’ve always been one but no one bothered to tell you?”
Twilight seemed to pause for a second and consider it before shaking her head. “No... the conspiracy required to maintain that would’ve been far too large to last for more than a couple of years.”
“That’s... unexpectedly rational? Or expectedly so, at this point. Either way, you can say your hellos soon enough, I suppose.”
They’d arrived at one of the many channels cut through the snow, nearly tripping at first as they’d realized the paths had been set and cleared over wooden walkways, themselves raised nearly a foot off the ground. “For runoff, maybe?” Squirrel mused as they stepped up onto the planks, the wood clunking underhoof. “Although you’d still need to clear it.”
“Lyonesse has these on the way to their watchtowers,” Twilight said, relaxing somewhat. “It’s for that, and to avoid turning an ankle on the wet, icy rock; plus, you can drag things on them easier.”
“I think you mentioned that before?” Squirrel said leadingly, hoping to keep her distracted until she could talk to some ‘lings herself – the dang girl was far too prone to worry herself half to death if left to her own devices. “The place, I mean.”
“Old fortress city,” Twilight said as they reached a fork in the path, opting to head left and up the hill. “Backed into a steep ravine. Mostly a trade centre now, but still has a lot of well-maintained architecture and artifacts.”
“There for the study, eh?”
“Family vacation, actually,” Twilight smiled. “There’re some rather nice mountain lakes nearby, to say nothing of the city itself.”
“Sounds lovely,” Squirrel said. Around them, more and more little paths were branching off, leading swiftly to homes and squat workshops. “Sounds a bit like Shatterfalls, come to think of it.”
“That’s west coast, isn’t it?”
“Yep.”
The ground began to level out just as they stepped into a cleared alcove at the top of the town, the cold stone underhoof shaped into mosiacs of swirls and symbols; stout, steeple-roofed buildings lined the far side. “Looks like something from Drizzle, doesn’t it.”
Twilight nodded. “I imagine changeling culture amalgamates a great deal from those of others.” A few such ‘lings, their muzzles like so much blackened wood – all mottled browns and greys and blacks – peaked out from thick, fluffy hoods and scarves as they entered, stopping and staring openly at them. “Although I suppose we’re about to find out.”
“Mmhmm,” Squirrel agreed, peering back; even in daylight, their eyes shone bright. “Let’s carry on? I can’t imagine Rainbow’ll take long to get here.”
As if on cue there was a thump behind them as the last of their trio landed. “Hello, hello,” Rainbow said, her head on a swivel as she looked around, a smile on her face. “Didn’t expect the bristly tails or rabbity ears, I gotta say.”
“Well, they’re not ponies,” Squirrel said as she nudged the two of them onwards. “You’d think the whole ‘shapeshifting’ thing would’ve given that away.”
“Well, yeah,” Rainbow huffed. “But all the stories I’ve heard always made them sound... buggy, I guess?”
“’Buggy’?” Squirrel shot her an amused look. “How would that work? Pretty sure bug legs wouldn’t work if you got that big.”
“Should we be talking like this?” Twilight asked, interrupting them as they crossed through the centre, a large firepit lying dormant there beneath a circular roof. “I’m pretty sure they can hear us.”
Judging by the frowns from the ones nearest, she was right.
“Oh, uhh... right,” Squirrel blushed. “So, umm... which one?” She nodded towards the facing buildings: at two-stories tall, their lintles deep and their panes dark, they were easily the most prominent structures in the town.
“Centre?” Rainbow suggested. “Looks the most governmenty, at least.”
“I thought we were looking for an inn?”
Rainbow shrugged. “Looks kinda inny, too.”
None of the changelings seemed inclined to stop them, happy enough as they were to simply gather in twos and threes and gossip. Twilight couldn’t say she was pleased about that, but she could, at least, understand. “Inn first, girls,” she said as she led the way into the middle building. The door was heavy, its hinges well-oiled, as it opened into a foyer.
“Well, this is nice,” Squirrel said, and given the polished wood floor, elegant furniture and bank of windows across from them, Twilight couldn’t disagree. “Heckuva fireplace, though,” she added, nodding towards the faintly-crackling fire tucked off to the side.
“Mmm,” Twilight hummed distantly, her eyes drawn to the changeling looking owlishly at them from behind a paper-laden desk.
Head cocked and blues eyes shining brightly, the clerk spoke. “Hello?” she said questioningly, her bat-like wings rustling at her sides. “Ponies?”
“Indeed,” Twilight said, taking the lead once more as she crossed the foyer. “We’re looking for... uhh...” she trailed off, utterly distracted by the changeling’s short, glistening canines. “Umm?” There was an exasperated huff behind her before she was gently nudged aside.
“What Twi means is, is there an inn or someplace we can stay?” Rainbow said, her tail swishing merrily behind her. “Your earrings look great, by the way.”
“Oh!” The changeling smiled sheepishly. “Thanks. We’re more of an ‘everything’ building, but we’ve always got a couple rooms for the odd traveller, especially one with such vibrant hair – is it natural?” She spoke with a higher and more expressive voice than Twilight would’ve expected.
“Hey,” Squirrel said, guiding her away from the desk and towards the bay windows. “While those two flirt, let’s see what the view’s like.”
She was hardly being subtle just saying it aloud like that; on the other hoof, it wasn’t as if they were in any sort of rush, and they had just started talking preening versus oiling, so it’d probably be a while before they could rent a room, anyways. “Sure,” she began, before a more pressing thought came to mind. “Actually, on that note, uhh,” -- she dropped her voice low – “you and I are mares, right? And gryphons are hens, so...”
Squirrel laughed as she sat down heavily on a worn window-facing sofa. “Does and bucks,” she said, still grinning. “Think deer – or rabbits, more like.”
Twilight sat down next to her, doffing her panniers as she did. “The ears’ll make a good mnemonic.” The room was just a touch chilly, but she didn’t doubt it’d be cozy indeed if it were full of people and the fire was roaring; perhaps it was used for celebrations or games – it certainly had the space for it.
“The view’s decent, though, isn’t it?”
And it was. Before them lay the snow-covered river-valley that sprawled beneath the town’s outcropping, the mountains rising sharply either side. “Doesn’t seem like there’s much for farmland?” Twilight wondered, noting the absense of any of the rectangular patterning that normally marked such out, even in winter. “Doesn’t look like Snowbound.”
“Think it’s mostly burrowed greenhouses and mushroom tunnels, here,” Squirrel said uncertainly. “I have to admit, I never really paid much attention to that kind of stuff as a foal.”
Twilight smiled. “Fair enough,” she said, glancing back at Rainbow and the doe. “Perhaps Dash could tell us later? Sounds like she’s learning a lot.”
Squirrel snorted. “Sure, sure – no doubt they’re deep in discussion about local agriculture.”
Twilight giggled as she turned back around. “Alright – maybe not, then.”
“Aw, don’t worry, Sparkle – I’m sure we can find you a nice, sexy changeling of your very own while we’re here.”
“Oh wow,” Twilight laughed. “I think that might be a bit more than I could handle right now.” She gave another soft snort. “Maybe we should just focus on the sliver?”
“Fine, fine,” Squirrel conceded. “It’s about time for lunch, isn’t it?”
Twilight nodded and began rooting around in her panniers for something to eat. Undoubtably there was at least one good restaurant in town, but as another glance showed Rainbow still happily chatting away, she found she didn’t much care to interrupt her and spoil her fun.
It was little later that found Rainbow wandering back over to them, smiling widely as she leapt up onto the couch. “Thought we’d lost you there,” Twilight joked.
“Nah,” Rainbow shrugged, her nonchalance belied by the slight blush dusting her cheeks. “Just talking. This’s the inn, by the way, and Sparrow says there’s a market inside next door.”
“No restaurants?” Twilight asked, noting the doe’s name.
Rainbow shook her head as she fished out an oatbar. “They’ve a kitchen here for banquets and stuff, but no – there’s only like a thousand people all told here, so there’s not really much of a reason for one.”
“That’s... more people than I’d’ve thought,” Twilight said.
“Farming communities are always really spread out,” Squirrel elaborated. “So what’s the plan? Any leads?”
“Sparrow’s not heard of it,” Rainbow said, shaking her head. “And they don’t have any gem shops or whatever around; she said we should probably just ask the mayor.”
“Sensible,” Twilight nodded. “Hopefully they’re not too busy for us.”
“Can’t imagine there’s much for them to do.”
They relaxed a little while longer on the couch, enjoying as best they could the warmer air before they’d need to head on back outside. Eventually, though, Twilight stood up to have a few quick words with the doe and secure their room. “I’ve got this, Dash,” she said as she crossed over. “It’ll just be a minute.” Privately, she felt like she needed to talk with the changeling alone, even if it was about something so dreadfully mundane as renting a room, if only to prove to herself that she could.
“Umm, hello,” she said as she approached the counter. “We were hoping to rent a room?”
The doe looked up from her paperwork to give her a wan smile, her long ears folding back gently. “Yep.”
Twilight blinked as she waited for her to continue. “Rainbow indicated you had one available?”
A short nod and a ruffle of wings followed. “A few, yes.”
While one part of Twilight was busy trying to reconcile how the doe was acting now compared to how she was with Dash, another part was getting increasingly impatient. “How much for the room, then?” she asked tersely.
The doe frowned for a moment, her stance dropping minutely. “Inn’s for travellers: too cold outside most of the year. We’re not the city.” That said, she bent back to her work -- her ears standing straight as arrows -- as though Twilight weren’t even there.
Twilight spluttered silently for a few moments, completely at a loss, before turning around to rejoin the others.
“Well?” Squirrel asked. “How was it?”
Twilight took her time answering as she settled back down on the cushions. “I don’t know?” she finally said, still confused about the whole thing. “I think... no, I really don’t know. It was weird.”
Rainbow grunted and gave her a disappointed look. “I’d asked Sparrow before I came back here to act normal around you – so you’d get to talk to a changeling, you know? Instead of a changeling that was acting like a pony.”
“Oh. Ohhh!” That was annoyingly obvious in hindsight. No wonder the doe had come across as so normal when they’d first come in. “But wait a minute – I’m definitely still missing something here.”
“Squirrel?”
“It’s mostly body-language,” Squirrel said, eying Twilight curiously. “That and things like tone and expression. How’d you not notice it? Even from here I could read her mood, and I’ve never even spoken to a naked ‘ling before.”
Twilight blushed, frustrated that an old shortcoming of hers was rearing its head once again. “I’m not always... good... with people.” An understatement in the past, although she’d felt that she’d come a long ways in the years since.
Beside her, Rainbow draped a downy wing over her. “Hey – cheer up, Twi! You’re loads better than you used to be. I guess changelings are just sorta hard-mode about this kinda thing.”
Twilight grumbled as she leaned into the hug.
“I mean, it’d make sense for them to be all weird to talk to,” Rainbow continued, sounding suspiciously like she was about to reach some sort of punchline. “They need some sort of downside to counter their sexiness, after all.”
And there it is. Twilight snorted despite herself. “Yeah, yeah – fine.” She sighed as she made to stand back up, Rainbow’s wing falling off her. “I never did book that room – I’ll be right back.” And, before her embarassment could stop her, she strode straight back to the clerk.
“Hello again,” she began as the doe glanced back up at her, a brow raised in doubt. “Just to clarify: would it be alright if myself and my friends spent the night here? In one of the rooms?” There. A touch stilted, but she couldn’t be any more clear than that.
The doe gave her an unimpressed look. “Seriously? Of course you can – I thought I’d said that.”
So she’s in ‘pony mode’ then. “Oh. Well... yes. You did,” Twilight agreed awkwardly. “I, umm... sorry? Yes – that’s it. Sorry. About earlier, I mean, although given this is only our second interaction there’s no other time I could be referring to. Unless we’ve met? Before? If you weren’t looking like a changeling?”
The doe blinked at her, nonplussed.
“Was I rambling? I’m definitely rambling,” Twilight nodded, shooting a quick glance over her withers at the other two – with a little luck, one of them would be right behind her and ready to put her out of her misery. Nope, Twilight sighed, seeing the pair of them staring at her from the couch. “So,” she continued, tapping her hooves clumsily on the desktop. “Uhh...”
The doe’s look of confusion slowly morphed to pity. “Maybe you’d be more comfortable back with your friends? The rooms’re upstairs, by the way – just don’t make a mess. And you do know I’m not going to eat you, right?” she added, looking as though she could barely believe what she was saying as she shot a quick glance at the couch.
“Right,” Twilight nodded. “I know that.” She opened her mouth to say something more, but what little was left of her nerves gave out; she turned and practically ran back to the others.
Rainbow started to say something, but Twilight barely heard her as she leapt up onto the couch and curled up into a tight ball, her muzzle wedged between her panniers and the backrest.
She was still trying to get her breathing under control when she felt a heavy weight on her back: judging by its rythmic rise and fall, she guessed one of them had nestled their head on her barrel; peeking open an eye, she found herself nearly face-to-face with Rainbow.
“It’ll be fine,” Rainbow murmured, a wing coming out to once again drape over her flank. “Sparrow’s not gonna eat ya, and I’m sure whatever you said isn’t the worse thing she’s heard.”
Twilight shuffled a little, enough to get her head properly back out into the open. “Why does everyone think I’m afraid of getting eaten!” she huffed indignantly, fighting down her blush.
“Well...” Rainbow trailed off suggestively.
“Oh for goodness’ sake, Dash,” Twilight grumbled. She wiggled a bit to get Rainbow off her until she could sit up properly. “I’m fine,” she insisted, hunched over and refusing to look either of them in the eye. “We have a room – upstairs, somewhere – so technically everything went swimmingly.”
Rainbow snorted and gave her a reassuring nuzzle. “Sure it did.”
They stepped back out into the chilly afternoon light with a new objective in mind. “So the mayor’s just next door?” Twilight asked, mostly just to try and recover from her awkward hurry out of the inn.
“If she’s in,” Squirrel said, humouring her as she led them into a squat building across the alcove. “Although I have a funny feeling the only thing we’re going to find here is some more cultural exchange for you.”
“Be that as it may, we’re still checking.”
The door swung open with the barest of squeaks, emptying them into a small antechamber of sorts; there was an empty desk off to the side, a half-open double-door ahead, and a slew of attractive carvings and paintings set on tables and walls; the air was warm and stuffy.
“There’s some neat stuff here,” Rainbow said, rearing up to get a better look at a pod of soapstone orcas. “Don’t think we’re anywhere near a coast though, are we?”
“Couple hundred kilometres to the north,” Squirrel said. “Should we go say hello?”
Now that she’d mentioned it, Twilight could make out the vague sounds of muttering in the next room. “Yeah,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”
She was nearly to the doors before Rainbow stepped in front of her, cutting her off. “Hey Twi?” she started hesitantly. “You know I’m super fond of you, right? Like, you’re my best friend, right?”
Twilight sighed, already knowing where this was going. “Mmhmm?”
“So... how ‘bout I do the talking on this one?”
“Alright,” Twilight said immediately, trying not to show the relief she felt as she did. “Take the lead.”
The adjoining room was wide and circular, with tall, boxy windows lining the pale wooden walls. Lush planters sat on its many sills, while above hung creeping vines and stranglers wrapped around the many beams. At the very centre was a partially snow-covered skylight, completing the feeling of being in an ornate greenhouse.
A large, harried-looking doe looked up at them from amongst stacks of paperwork and notebooks. “Oh!” she said, her voice musical and full of pleasant surprise. “You’re not what I expected.”
“Oh, I know,” Rainbow chirped, striding over to meet her. “I doubt you often get mares as cute as us in here.”
Smiling wryly and flicking her heavily-studded ears, the doe snorted as she leaned back in her chair. “Uh huh. Because that’s definitely what I meant.”
“Knew it!” Rainbow grinned cheekily. “So anyways, we were kinda looking for the mayor – Sparrow next door said they might be able to help us?”
“That’s me,” the mayor grunted with a tired shake of her head. “Tern. I don’t suppose whatever you need’s easy? I don’t mean to be a bad host, but we’ve our own problems here.”
“Anything we can help with?” Rainbow asked, head cocked as she tried to read the upside-down papers.
“Thanks, but no – it’s mostly resource distribution.” The mayor – Tern – shuffled the papers she was working on aside and gave them each a look in turn. “I imagine you’re not just looking for good sights to see? Wouldn’t be much sense to sending you three to me if so.”
“We’re looking for a silver thing,” Rainbow nodded, still smiling widely, tail swishing to and fro. “Can’t find one in the city.”
“Silver?” Tern blinked. “We’ve some copper and soapstone mines, although they’re quite shallow.”
“I think it’s magical silver?” Rainbow paused to share a look with Twilight. “Hey Twi – it’s a magic rock, right?”
Twilight started, barely believing that she was already getting dragged into another conversation with a changeling. “Uhh... yes? I mean, no.” She took a deep breath and approached the pair of them. “It’s not a ‘silver thing’ – it’s a sliver. They form at grand leylines and resemble cloudy quartz, although with a few novel magical properties.”
Recognition flew across Tern’s face. “A talon, then?”
“Yes!” Twilight exclaimed, relief flooding through her body – maybe this wouldn’t be a waste of time, after all. “That’s it! Do you have one? Only we’ve been looking everywhere for one of these, and there’ve been so many false leads and some of the shopkeepers have been so rude and, and!” She cut herself off and took another deep breath. “And it would be great if you had one,” she said as she fought down a blush.
Squirrel chuffed as she came up beside her. “I think you might’ve just blown the negotiations for us, Sparkle.”
“Ah. Right.” She was definitely losing the fight now. “Anyways, can you help us?”
Tern drummed one of the curiously hardened paws that changelings seemed to have on the desk, a faraway look in her eyes. The three of them waited quietly until she gave a brisk shake of her head. “After a fashion, yes. Might I ask how you even thought to come here?”
Finding it considerably easier talking to a changeling that was acting like a pony, Twilight nodded. “We tried to find one in Drizzle, but the lapidarist there said they were shorted one from Snowbound; likewise the contact we found in the city said much the same of here.”
“Hmm,” Tern hummed contemplatively. She hesitated before continuing, as though she didn’t really want to say anything more. “I know the contract. We’d had a few like it, all around the same time, all for the same thing. I suppose you wouldn’t know it, but there’s a grand leyline not far north of us; now I can’t imagine for the life of me why, but a pawful of requests came in over the last year to have us send out expeditionaries to search for any talons that might’ve formed.”
“Some new academia?” Twilight mused, interupting the doe as she thought aloud. “A research paper or novel use, perhaps. Would have to be well-funded, though, and most aren’t. Hmm...” She trailed off, barely aware of her surroundings before giving her head a hearty shake – she needed to focus.
“Maybe?” Tern shrugged, seemingly unconcerned with the buyers’ motivations. “The point here’s we were able to satisfy some of the requests, but not all, and not for lack of trying.”
Figures we’d be too late, Twilight thought, sagging in disappointment. “Oh.”
Rainbow chose that moment to chime in. “Well, where’d they go, then? Might still be able to buy ‘em off the buyers.”
“Doubt she’d tell us,” Squirrel said; behind them, Tern leaned back to watch. “Suppliers blabbing like that’d be... rude? Yeah – I’ll go with rude.”
Rainbow reared up to lean nonchalantly against the desk. “Could bribe her? I can totally make, like, a really nice cake or something – I can do ice cream and everything.”
Tern rolled her eyes.
“I’m pretty sure they’ve worked out how to bake here, Rainbow.” Squirrel sat down with a huff, apparently content to play along. “Don’t we have money?”
Twilight, meanwhile, was busy trying to figure out just what was going on – she knew she was bad with people, but she was fairly certain this wasn’t a very logical way to go about things. “Sort of?” she ventured. “I mean, yes – a fairly good deal, given we had to work the East Wind – but we still need some of that to get back home.”
“Might be some sort of winter race here?” Rainbow twisted around to face the mayor. “Is there any sort of race or that kinda thing happening? That I can win, but instead of a trophy I get a talon?”
Tern gave her an even look. “No.”
“Shoot.”
“I could always help with the paperwork?” Twilight tried. “If it’s anything to do with maths or organization, then I’m your mare.”
Another roll of the eyes. “Still no.”
Twilight tried not to wilt.
“Well, you know,” Squirrel began with the air of someone about to push their luck. “I can cook alright too – if a cake isn’t good enough – ”
“An ice cream cake!” Rainbow corrected. “With real ice cream!”
“Right, right – if a real ice cream cake’s not good enough, I could always do up some sort of fancy dinner to go with?” Squirrel paused to gauge the mayor’s reaction. “Or a lunch? Breakfast? I’m pretty good with both.”
“I could help clean?” Twilight added, now thoroughly lost. “Or wait? I’m pretty sure I could work out how to in time.”
The mayor responded with a loud, defeated sigh. “If I tell you where to find one, will you leave me alone to get back to work?”
“Yup!” Rainbow grinned, spinning around to face her. “Totally.”
Tern gave another huff before continuing. “There was at least one more that our scouts found, but it was down in wyvern territory.”
“How’d you know it was a sliver?” Twilight asked, trying not to think too much about just where it was. “If you couldn’t get close to it, I mean.”
“They’re like little suns,” Tern said with a shrug. “Don’t know how to explain it to a pony.”
That kind of made sense to Twilight – as the slivers were incredibly mana-dense, and changelings needed ambient magic sources to survive, then seeing them as exceptionally bright seemed entirely reasonably, even at a distance. “Fair enough. Wyverns, you say?”
“They’ll probably eat you.”
“Uh huh,” Twilight said, already lost in plans. “Where’d you say they were?”
“It’ll be really slow. And hot.”
“Mmhmm,” Twilight hummed, this time turning to fish a local mapbook out of her panniers. “Could you point it out on here?”
“Fiiine, fine,” Tern sighed, indicating a place not far to the northwest.
“Thank you!” Twilight said, already turning to go, far too lost in thought to give heed to proper decorum. “Daylight’s burning, girls!”
She could just make out a soft snort as they pulled the door shut behind them. “Ponies are weird,” Tern muttered with a shake of her head as she turned back to her work.
“That went well!” Twilight chirped, feeling more than half pleased with herself. “An entire conversation and not a single faux pas!”
“It was definitely fun, yeah,” Rainbow smiled, taking a moment to readjust her scarf and overcoat – is was colder than she’d remembered outside. “Got us a place on the map to go to, too!”
“Looks like it’s perhaps a half-day’s hike,” Twilight said as she tried to estimate the distance in her head. “We can plot that better tonight.”
Squirrel looked less than eager, however. “What about the dragons? Only, I don’t think she was kidding.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Twilight said lackadaisically. “Between Rainbow and I, we should be able to work with them just fine.”
“Yeah,” Rainbow agreed. “Plus, if we can wrangle the place out of the mayor, then I’m sure dealing with some dragons should be easy as pie.”
“I’m pretty sure she wasn’t even trying to hide anything,” Squirrel mumbled. “We never actually gave her a chance to answer us when we asked.”
Rainbow just shrugged. “Same difference.”
They stood huddled together next to the alcove’s central firepit while Twilight tried to figure out their next move. A quick glance at the mostly-blue sky made it clear they were passing mid-afternoon – time had really flown since they’d arrived. “We should stock up,” Twilight said. “And ask around about the area we’ll be heading to.”
“We stocked up literally yesterday, Twi,” Rainbow snorted. “And, I hate to say it, but how’re we even going to get to wherever it is, anyways? It’s all snow out there.”
“I was kind of hoping to follow whatever path the scouts took.”
“They’d’ve come and gone weeks or months ago,” Squirrel pointed out. “And any goat paths’ll be impossible for us to find.”
Twilight floundered for a moment before rallying. “Well, all the more reason to ask around, then.”
And with that they were off again, back down the narrow channels, this time though with eyes and ears open for anything resembling a general store or workshop – anything, really, that could possibly have some knowledgeable gossips milling about in it. It wasn’t long before Twilight and Squirrel had started to lag a short ways behind, Rainbow being far too eager to keep checking out the sights to tarry.
The curious looks from the locals had likewise only increased, as quick glances and perked ears met them at nigh on every corner. “You’d think they’d’ve satisfied themselves with the sailors,” Twilight muttered.
“It’s a small town, Twilight,” Squirrel said, giving the nearest pair a nod and a smile. “Live it up! They’ll get bored soon enough.”
“Mmm,” Twilight hummed, still feeling put off by the attention.
“Hey,” Rainbow said, bobbing her head towards one of the many branches. “This looks good.”
Taking her time catching up – she didn’t want to slip – Twilight followed Rainbow down the path, Squirrel close behind. Immediately she could see what had caught her eye as they stepped out into the muddy, slushy courtyard of a large workshop, its bay doors slid half-open; inside, a small group of changelings looked to be sitting around the shop, apparently just idling and chatting away the day.
“In we go, then,” Rainbow said as she confidently strode straight into the building and immediately drew everyone’s eyes.
Twilight and Squirrel hurried in behind her, barely receiving a glance in turn while Rainbow finished her hasty introductions.
“So?” Rainbow said to the battery of blank stares. “What do you think?”
A large buck in a thick, colourful jacket spoke first. “You’re going to get eaten.”
“Very eaten,” a smaller doe agreed.
“And burnt,” added a young-looking buck.
“Oh yes,” the smaller doe nodded. “Very burnt.”
Rainbow gave an exasperated huff. “We’ll be fiiine. We just need to know where to go, is all.”
“Might make us accessories,” colourful jacket said, nodding slowly like one bestowing great wisdom. “If you get eaten, it could be us that takes the blame.”
“That’s not wrong,” said an elderly doe curled up near a heating stone, her muzzle nearly obscured by a silky-looking green shemagh. “Be a right bit of fuss, that would.”
The other changelings nodded alone agreeably.
“Could sign papers?” Squirrel said, speaking up beside her. “Saying it’s not your fault if we get eaten and or burnt?”
The changelings looked to colourful jacket for guidance. “Well,” he said slowly. “I suppose that could work. Don’t have any paper, mind.”
“Verbal contract?” Twilight suggested, wondering once again if there was some sort of social code she was missing, or if changelings were just plain weird. “Those hold up in most courts.”
“Could do, could do,” colourful jacket conceded.
“Why do you even want to go?” small doe asked. “Tourists normally stick to Shade when they’re here.”
“Ahh!” Rainbow exclaimed triumphantly. “But we’re not tourists! We’re explorers. Adventurers! It’s different.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so!” the elderly doe huffed. “Let’s see that map of yours.”
Not even bothering to ask how she knew they had a map, Twilight fetched it out of her panniers and laid it out on the worktable. “The mayor said the scouts last saw the sliver right around here,” she said, pointing as closely to wear she remembered Terns’ paw tapping down.
“Sliver of what?” young buck asked, rearing up to better peer down at the map.
“A talon,” Squirrel said. “It’s another word for a talon.”
“Ooo!”
“I saw a couple of them coming in a few months back,” small doe chirped. “Warm as anything! Can’t believe we didn’t keep them.”
“No sense wasting away in front of some fancy rock,” colourful jacket grunted. “It’s a false warmth, anyways – you’d die clutching it, if you were on your own.”
“I know, I know,” small doe grumbled. “Still, though.”
Tuning out the others, Twilight focused on the directions the elderly doe was giving her. “And you should still see it just fine,” the doe continued. “Just remember to keep the dark cliffs on your left, and the light on your right, and you’ll manage that part just fine.”
“Right,” Twilight nodded. “Then it’s just working our way through the maze until we find our wyverns’ nest.”
“And then get eaten, yes,” elderly doe added sagely.
“We’ve worked with wyverns and pyres in the past, so we should be okay. I’ll call it if things don’t feel right.”
The doe hummed doubtfully, but left it at that.
Twilight, on the other hoof, was feeling more confident about their chances than she had all trip. “Thank you,” she said as she carefully memorised the map. “This is perfect.”
“Well, hopefully you’ve got a good use for it in mind.”
“A project of mine needs an anchor,” Twilight began, but found she wasn’t much interested in explaining it all given how many things they’d likely need to collect for the trip. “This should help. Any idea where we can find some supplies for this?”
“Bottom of the hill,” the doe said as she shuffled back to the heating stone. “Near the water wheel.”
From the looks of it Twilight had finally finished interrogating the poor ‘ling. Rainbow shook her head fondly – here they were with the perfect opportunity for her to be socializing and getting more comfortable with the locals, and instead she was using it to just keep planning out their next step. “She’s starting to mutter,” Rainbow said, nudging the young buck she’d been talking with in the ribs. “Should probably go; nice talking to you, Puffin.”
The buck gave her a good-natured nod before hurrying to chat with Squirrel.
Approaching the table, Rainbow reared up close alongside Twilight. “All good?” she asked, looking down at the scattering of notes and papers. “No way you managed to write all this just now.”
“Hmm? Oh, no – I just like to review my old notes before I make new ones. We’ve a destination, and from the sounds of it a pretty good path to get there.”
“Sure, sure – neat. Super neat.” Rainbow paused a moment to try and figure out how to say what she wanted to next. “Umm... do you wanna chat to anyone else while we’re here?”
Twilight spared her a glance as she unsheathed a pen and began writing. “Why? Besides, I was talking to... well, I suppose I forgot to get her name, but I was talking to her nonetheless.”
Rainbow gave her a poke. “Watercress. And see? Perfect chance right now to say hello to some ‘lings.” She gave her another poke when she still seemed hesitant. “Think of it like a learning thing? ‘Cause I could totally tell everyone when we get back home that you had the perfect chance to talk to changelings, but you wanted to write a book instead.”
That seemed to do it.
“Fiiine!” Twilight huffed, though a faint smile dampened any heat. “I’ll go talk to people. Happy?”
“Yep!”
It was nearly an hour before they’d excused themselves, Twilight’s impatient pacing and glances at the sun having finally gotten too great to ignore. “We’ll see you later!” Rainbow shouted back to the ‘lings as they crossed the muddy courtyard. “Keep warm!” She wasn’t certain that was quite the right way to say it, but as the idea of warmth seemed pretty big to them, she figured she could at least try.
The scattered goodbyes she got in turn seemed to echo that.
Trailing the other two back into the channel, they made their way back downhill and along the way they’d first come up that afternoon. While Rainbow couldn’t see just what, exactly, they could possibly need to buy for tomorrow’s trip, she also couldn’t see any reason to object.
“So what’s the plan?” Squirrel asked. “We’ve already maps and food and all that.”
“More talking practice?” Rainbow ventured.
“We’re just checking,” Twilight said, ignoring her comment. “We’ve time til evening, and you never know what they might have.”
“I suppose,” Squirrel said, suddenly sounding rather nervous. “I doubt they have anything to deal with dragons, though. What’re we going to do about that? ‘Cause I really don’t want to get burnt up and eaten tomorrow.”
“We’ll trade for it,” Twilight said matter-of-factly. “Dash and I’ve worked with wyverns a little back home; assuming they have a similar culture here, we should be able to barter for the sliver.”
“Right, right – of course,” Squirrel said. “You’ve gone crazy. Of course. I should’ve seen this coming, really: the diplomats drove you insane. Somehow.”
Twilight sighed, pausing a moment at an intersection to work out which way they needed to go. “I’m not crazy, Squirrel,” she said after Rainbow pointed them right. “I’ve studied this extensively – having a pyre dragon for a friend saw to that.”
“Crazy,” Squirrel muttered. “I still don’t believe you about him.”
“Well, I didn’t believe there were such things as changelings just scant days ago.”
“Don’t worry so much!” Rainbow said, giving Squirrel a soft swipe with her wing. “You’re fretting worse than Twilight does.”
“I am not!” Squirrel argued over Twilight’s grumbling. “I’m being sensible! Sensible! They’re dragons! I know they’re not animals or anything, but still! Dragons!”
“Now you sound like Dash,” Twilight chuffed. “You could just stay here if you like?”
Squirrel narrowed her eyes, the very image of wounded indignation. “Never. As your guide --”
Rainbow tried very hard not to snicker.
“As your guide,” Squirrel plowed on, shooting her a look. “It would be utterly remiss of me not to come along; besides, you two’d probably end up tumbling into some snowy canyon halfway there without me.”
“Oh definitely,” Rainbow smirked. “Just like we’d still be lost in a swamp without you.”
Ultimately, there hadn’t been anything worth getting at the general store, bar some rope at Squirrel’s insistence; unfortunately too, Rainbow hadn’t been able to get Twilight to do any chatting with the shopkeeper. “Well, there’s always this evening,” she muttered to herself as they made their way back up to the alcove.
“I heard that,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes back at over her withers. “We need to get to sleep early tonight: it’ll be a long day tomorrow and I want us up at daybreak.”
“You’d think there’d be some sort of conflict,” Squirrel said with a vague wave of a hoof. “With them being so close? A few hours hike is nothing if you can fly.”
“There’ll be an agreement of some sort,” Twilight countered. “Goodness knows what it looks like, but there’s no reason they couldn’t’ve come to an accord – must have, really.”
“But then why couldn’t they retrieve this sliver themselves?”
Twilight stopped in her tracks, head cocked. “I... don’t know?” She started up the slope again, Squirrel and Rainbow keeping close behind. “We never did ask the mayor.”
“Maybe it’s a ‘keep off our lawn’ type of agreement?” Rainbow suggested. “Like, they can be neighbours, but if anyling crosses some imaginary line, they get eaten?”
Squirrel coughed uncertainly. “So where does that leave us, then?”
The mayor was still in. Rainbow nudged open the office door, pausing nary a moment before striding straight up to the doe. “Hello again!”
Tern looked up at them, a wry smile on her face. “Wondered when you’d come back. Forgot to ask something earlier, I presume?”
Of course she knew this’d happen, Rainbow thought to herself with a chuff. “Maaaybe. I guess in hindsight we kinda should’ve maybe asked why you couldn’t just get the talon thing yourself?”
Tern set down her pen and leaned back in seat. “I do believe I mentioned the wyverns? Big, scaly, winged carnivores? That might be why.”
“Well, yeah,” Rainbow said, glancing a moment at Twilight and Squirrel as they held back. “But why don’t they just come here and eat everyling? Don’t see any wire-towers around here.”
Tern frowned at that, although Rainbow couldn’t blame her – those towers were nasty. “We wrote up a treaty some generations ago, of course. Surely the stories survived?”
“Yup,” Squirrel chirped as she looked to Rainbow to continue.
Alright, Rainbow thought rapidly. Mayor’s acting annoyed, but she’d fiddling with her ear like Sparrow was when she was being coy. Could try... “Okay, then,” she said, rearing up once more to lean against the desk. “So it’s not a treaty – no way you guys signed away walking rights to something a stone’s throw away. Loophole maybe?”
Tern leaned an elbow on the desk, muzzle resting on her paw. “Not exactly. Why the worrying now? You seemed confident enough before.”
“It’s weird, is why.” She tapped a hoof idly on the desk before the pieces slid into place. “They don’t want to trade, do they? That’s gotta be it,” she said, grinning widely.
Tern snorted, grinning right back. “Yes. And no. You three are on vacation, aren’t you?”
“Kinda, yeah,” Rainbow shrugged.
“Well, there you have it, then! Vacations are all about the experience – not the trip home. Go visit the dragons: if they don’t eat you, then you’ll understand.”
Twilight squirmed under her blankets, rolling over again for the umpteenth time. Judging by the fledgling light bleeding through the heavy curtains, she guessed it was not an hour before sunrise. Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, she rolled once again onto her back to stare up at the low, beamed ceiling. The day before had gone about as well as it could have, all things considered: she’d entered a new town, met new peoples and commited plenty of new faux pas.
The fact that all the changelings she’d met seem to be able to adapt to act pony-like in the blink of an eye should have been comforting – she knew that – but she couldn’t help but find herself feeling... irritated that she couldn’t seem to get a handle on them when they were just being themselves.
She also couldn’t help but feel a tad jealous of Rainbow for how easily she could.
Grumbling, she rolled upright and tossed aside her duvet, snatching up her nearby jackets the moment she’d done so: the room was chilly, though only just – insulation aside, it was the wind that really bit. Their gear was strewn about the little room, wherever they’d happened to drop it the night before; taking care to weave around it so as not to wake the others, she crossed to the door and slipped out.
The hallway was short, with only a few doors on the one side and a bank of windows lining the other. A quick glance outside showed little more than a pair of ‘lings crossing the stony alcove in the bluey predawn. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she continued on towards the main room and its cozy couches, dimly hoping that the change of scenery might help calm her nerves.
Stepping up onto one of the windowside couches, she curled up into a tight ball and took to staring out into the valley below. Somewhere out there, beyond a distant bend and up the frozen streambed, lay the little gully they were looking for. It was supposed to be marked – for what that was worth in this weather – but the twisting gulches beyond were, from the way the doe had described it, all navigated by visual cues alone.
She shuffled into a comfier position, her tail swishing close enough to nuzzle into. This would be the last of it, she figured – either they’d strike big and find the sliver, or they’d fail and go home. Being so far away from the city, to say nothing of how far away she was from her home, was simultaneously exhilarating and frightening, a balance leaning all the farther to the latter the further into the backcountry they roamed. As much as she knew she’d be disappointed if they ended up finding out the sliver was just in the next town over or some such, she needed to draw a line somewhere, and that somewhere was here.
It certainly didn’t help that the thing might end up being a bust for her Everfree plans, either.
Twilight jerked awake, shaking her head briskly as she looked around herself. The dawn sun lit the room in its weak glow, while the shuffling and banging of someone working in one of the backrooms filled the quiet air. Lurching unsteadily to her hooves, she hurried back to their rooms, hoping that she wasn’t missed and the other two weren’t fretting over her.
Reaching the door, she tentatively pushed it open. “Hello?”
She snorted, wondering why she was even worried – both of them were still asleep. Turning back around, she looked out the south-facing windows to try and get a better sense of the time.
“Sun’s half up,” she muttered as she swivelled back to the room. “More than late enough.”
Striding past Squirrel’s prone form on the couch, she made straight for Rainbow in the second bed – the little room really was cramped – and gave her a nudge. “Up.”
Without waiting for a reply, she stepped over to Squirrel and gave her a poke of her own. “It’s well past first light: up!”
Squirrel, at least, had the decency to wiggle a bit before slowly crawling upright, but Rainbow? “Daaash!” Twilight whined, trying a different tact as she crossed right back over and started rocking her back and forth. “We’re going to be laaate!”
The lump under the blankets snorted before an arm appeared from beneath the duvet and started batting at her. “Geez, whatever happened to just asking?”
Twilight didn’t cease kneading into her side. “Since when has that ever worked with you?”
Rainbow twisted around fully to sit up, knocking away Twilight’s arms in the process. “Fine, I’m up, I’m up,” she grumbled.
“Good,” Twilight said primly, pleased that her tactical pouting had worked so well. “Both of you get dressed – we’ve a long day ahead.”
“We’ve gotten good at this, haven’t we?” Rainbow said, shivering briefly as they crossed the alcove. “Took us barely ten minutes this time.”
“More like twenty,” Twilight grumbled, but it seemed to be more out of habit than anything else. “I’m still hoping to get back here before it gets dark.”
Rainbow wasn’t so certain about that, considering how slow moving through snow could be. “Sooo when should I get in the air? Hard to do it in soft snow.”
“Best wait til we get to the edge of town.”
Rainbow nodded along – it’d be less tiring that way, given she’d need to carry all her own gear for this one. “Right – need to keep you safe in case of any changeling attacks while we’re here.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Squirrel was quick to agree. “I could get distracted easily and then bam! You’re kidnapped.”
“Yep,” Rainbow chirped. “Exactly.” She wasn’t certain teasing was actually going to help anything, but Twilight made it way too easy sometimes.
“Uh huh,” Twilight drawled. “Sure. You know, I’m feeling oddly tempted to shuck some of my gear off to you, Dash – so that I could flee faster, of course.”
“Nah – a bit of sexy kidnapping would do you good.”
Twilight made an exasperated noise and gave her a flick of her tail. “Let’s just get going.”
They passed only a few people on the way down and out of Shade, taking the route that saw them turning and hooking around the skydock, such as it was. Rainbow shared a look and a nod with the other two before veering off up a side path, figuring the simplest way to get airborne at this point was to leap off the scaffolding; certainly she couldn’t take flight here, with the walls of snow either side nearly taller than she was.
She moved quickly, not liking the idea of losing sight of the others for too long. Scampering up the icy steps, she hurriedly cleared what little needed to be to get enough of a runway across the top before bounding right off, her wingbeats kicking up whorls of snow-dust as she pumped hard to get lift.
She circled low and fast, striving to gain height despite the added weight of her satchels and clothes. Finally getting enough speed, she hurried up the couple hundred feet she wanted to to get a proper view of things.
Below, she could make out Twilight and Squirrel passing by the very shop they’d checked out the day before, with its winterized sawmill and water wheel behind. She tried to make out their destination, far down the mountain valley, but the snow was making everything look the same – just blues and browns and whites. A dark and irregular line meandered down the centre, betraying the small ice-covered river that ran past the town and towards the distant Snowbound. The valley’s sides alternated freely between sparse evergreen forests and sloping meadows, with rough cliffs and mountain ridges topping them all the way into the distance, where Rainbow could just make out what she thought was the glacier at the head of it all.
Apparently, there was some sort of side passage in one of the western cliffs a ways down, but it was as good as invisible from here. Looking down again, she could see the other two had finally left the town’s peripherals, trudging now through a rough-plowed path that stalked the river. Taking care to keep them well in sight, she took to scouting the ground ahead, moving in wide, slow circles as she went.
“She sure stands out more in her jackets, doesn’t she?”
Twilight blinked and looked up, quickly spotting the dark, loosely-spiralling smudge well above. “Yep. Maybe she can see where we’re going? All the directions I could get out of the doe was to just follow this trail and watch out for painted markings somewhere past the halfway mark.” They’d all gone over the route the day before, but Twilight still found herself nervous with just how vague it was.
“Rainbow’ll help us,” Squirrel said confidently. “Worse case, we can’t find it before evening and we end up turning back around.”
“I know,” Twilight wilted. “I just hope it doesn’t come to that.”
They had to pace themselves as time crept by, knowing that any sweat needed to be avoided if at all possible; however, given their many layers and the simple difficulty of crunching through the frost-hardened snow, this meant they weren’t moving nearly as fast as Twilight had hoped.
Judging by the sun, they’d been walking for at least a few hours when Twilight stopped short and reared up to look back the way they’d come.
“What’s up?” Squirrel asked, pausing a few paces ahead.
Twilight huffed. “I can still see Shade.” The town looked to be little more than an hour’s leisurely walk away, its dark walls and puffs of white-grey smoke easily visible on its rocky rise.
“Well, yeah,” Squirrel said, sounding as though she thought she was being silly. “Can’t move fast in this stuff.”
Twilight fell back to all fours with a grunt. “Reeeally wish we had wings, right now.”
“No kidding,” Squirrel snorted. “Come on – we’ve gotta be close.”
That did make Twilight feel a bit better, and a quick glance showed it likely true – they weren’t too far off now from the valley’s cirque. “Alright,” she began, hurrying the few steps forward to walk abreast of Squirrel. “We’re looking for dark stone – basalt or andesite, perhaps – with faded red streaks painted on it. There’ll be cairns about, too, though I’m worried they’ll all be buried.” This far out the snow was mostly untouched, with only a bare few shallow animal trails criss-crossing about. Bar the occasional tree or copse, everything looked muted and flat.
“Any idea if Rainbow’s noticed anything?”
“I’m afraid we don’t have any secret signals she could have surreptitiously sent me, Squirrel.” Rainbow had been a near-constant shadow overhead, only occasionally disappearing over the valley edges before reappearing somewhere else. Twilight trusted that if she’d spotted something – or anything, really – she wouldn’t have hesitated to do a quick flyby and shout down to them.
“Dang.”
They shifted their course to run a little higher up the slope, eyes peeled and scrutinizing every crack and pillar for any sign of entry. The task was just beginning to become frustrating when the whistle of wind sounded close behind them. “Finally,” Squirrel grumbled as Twilight turned just in time to see Rainbow streak slowly past and hook into a tight spiral above.
“’Bout a hundred metres ahead!” Rainbow shouted, her grin evident even from this distance. “In a copse – look for a cracked tree!” And with that, she was off again.
“Could’ve just landed and walked with us,” Squirrel huffed at her retreating form. “Not like she can keep flying past this point.”
“I’m not sure the snow here’s hard enough for her to take off again if we did somehow miss it.”
As they moved towards the small copse of evergreens, the ground began to roughen, with bare, slick rock showing up in uneven patches. “Careful,” Squirrel cautioned, still in the lead. “It’s wet – I think there’s a creek nearby.”
Coppery-brown sludge and small, foamy puddles became common as they neared the weathered cliff, its face damp with water and dead moss. Standing at the base of one of the countless piles of cobbles and scree, in the lee of a shattered hemlock, was Rainbow.
“There you are!” she called down to them. “Mind your footing! Bit of a stream coming out of the rock here.”
“We’d noticed!” Squirrel called back to her. “Give us a sec!”
She and Twilight spent the next few minutes switchbacking up the slope, taking care to keep from splashing. “Can’t believe this isn’t frozen,” Twilight said once they’d reached Rainbow at the top.
“Maybe the dragons keep it warm? Somehow?” Rainbow guessed.
“Maybe.”
“We should rest up,” Squirrel said, stepping over to one of the many boulders lying about. “I’m hungry.”
“I suppose we did miss breakfast, didn’t we,” Twilight said, a tad guiltily – she was so gung ho on getting them out early that it didn’t even occur to her to allow time for something to eat.
“No kidding.”
They all began rooting through their gear for their oatbars and canteens, huddled close together in the cool shade. The water trickling over the ground was decidedly undrinkable – even without the rust a sulphurous scent hung over it – and with no good means of heating snow they’d need to take care to watch their canteens.
“How long do you think it’d take us to get back?” Twilight wondered aloud. “We wouldn’t have to meander or go slowly.”
“Think we’re about three or four miles out?” Rainbow hazarded a guess. “You two’d probably take an hour, tops.”
Twilight nodded thoughtfully as she tried to work out a timetable of sorts.
“We really are close, aren’t we,” Squirrel noted, staring off in the direction of the town. “Wouldn’t’ve thought dragons would be okay living so near to others.”
“Dragons are fiiine,” Rainbow said, waving her off. “They’re like big people – no reason they can’t live near non-dragons or anything. They just think weird, is all.”
“I’m just worried – Tern could’ve told us why they couldn’t just get the talon themselves, but didn’t. Why? I don’t like this.”
Rainbow reached over to give her a shove. “It’s called ‘drama!’ All the ‘lings back there were being silly and over-the-top – the mayor’s probably just the same way.”
“Is that normal? The way they were acting?” Twilight asked, having noticed how utterly at-ease all the changelings they’d spoken to had been.
Squirrel nodded. “They’re good at blending in, what with how super-sensitive they are to body language and stuff. Means they’re always dead-easy to get along with if they want to be.”
“Sparrow seemed more normal when she dropped the act with me,” Rainbow said. “I think, at least – I’m really not used to reading ‘lings.”
“Be weird if you were.”
The crack was a short ways down the cliff face, nearly hidden by the growing foliage. The ground about it was wet, with a faint, fetid stench lacing the air; wides daubs of ruddy, faded paint slashed the walls either side, while a parade of short, head-high cairns led back down to the valley below. “It’s not very wide, is it,” Twilight muttered; at little more than a few metres across, its bottom rough, rocky and slick, the passage looked dark and forboding.
“Would make a pretty lousy crevice if it was,” Rainbow said. “You said light rocks on the right, right? And darker on the left?”
“Yeees,” Twilight nodded hesitantly: from here, at least, both sides looked identical – dirty and lichen-stricken. “Shouldn’t make a difference until we hit the first branch.”
They stood and stared down the passage, their enthusiasm thoroughly dampened. “I don’t suppose you managed to scout out anything ahead?” Twilight asked.
Rainbow shook her head. “With how bushy it is up top I barely even saw the thing at all. Didn’t help that everything around it just looks like every other mountainy bit around here.”
“Figures,” Twilight muttered before taking a deep breath. “Welp – nothing else for it.”
And with that, they were off.
The passage was full of sounds both muffled and tinny, with the trickle of minute waterfalls and the buzz of mottled-shelled beetles appearing suddenly as they passed by whatever rotten log or barrel-high boulder that blocked their view, only to fade again just as swiftly the moment they were out of sight.
Twilight paused in circling a wide pool to lean down and examine some manner of winged water strider.
“Bugs in winter,” Squirrel grunted, following her gaze. “I hate them already.”
“Well, it’s warm enough in here,” Rainbow said, fluffing out her wings impatiently from the logjam a few paces ahead. “Too dang close, though.”
Twilight turned away from the skittering insect. “Right – we should keep moving.”
They’d been moving not more than ten or fifteen minutes by now and were already starting to feel the canyon’s oppressive air; talk was stifled and hoofsteps were uncommonly light.
Occasionally they’d pass by a small cairn, barely a few stones high, set atop whatever was near and dry. “Maybe they mark the whole path?” Squirrel asked as they passed yet another. “And the ‘lings were just teasing about how hard it was?”
“You wouldn’t put directions in your own backyard, Squirrel,” Rainbow grunted. “These’re probably just for fun.”
The canyon became increasingly cluttered as they progressed, with everything from logs and stones to upheaved muck and fertive-looking burrows blocking their way. It must’ve been well over half-an-hour since they’d entered, but they’d yet to see the first branching.
“I’m beginning to wish I’d thought to ask just how long this was,” Twilight puffed out as she bounded up a series of stones.
“We’ll be fine, Sparkle,” Squirrel assured her, trailing close behind. “Like I said: if this takes too long, we’ll just turn around and make it back to Shade by nightfall. We’ll be fiiine.”
“Bones,” Rainbow said, cutting them off, wing out and pointing to the mud a few feet away. “Looks like it, at least.”
Twilight didn’t see them at first, having mistaken them for bleached branches. “I think it was a goat,” she said, the smooth, arched curve of ribs looking about the right length. “Is that a rock or a horn?”
Rainbow stepped over for a closer look. “Horn. Can’t say they didn’t warn us.”
“More than enough time to get back,” Squirrel said, her ears erect and tail out as she stared unblinkingly at the bones. “Easy walk, really – no risk. Let’s go?”
“Meh – don’t worry about it Squirrel,” Rainbow said far more casually than Twilight would’ve been able to. “Like you said: we’ll be fine.”
“Really, Squirrel,” Twilight added. “Dash and I’ve got this. I don’t actually think the changelings would’ve let us come out here if there was really any danger of us getting eaten willy-nilly. At the very least we should get a chance to explain ourselves; then, we’ll either find out if we can get the sliver, or not.”
“Super safe,” Rainbow agreed. “Except for goats, of course.”
Squirrel still looked like she was ready to bolt until, with a violent shake of her body, she let out a loud huff. “Right,” she said, rolling her shoulders and flicking her tail nervously. “Okay then. Right. Let’s go.”
They were quiet as they pushed on, leaving the portentous sight behind. Jackets were opened and scarves were loosened as they climbed and descended in equal measure; with the sky little more than a too-bright smudge of light above, they were left with no way of knowing how long they’d been going – it could be noon already, or even well past that for all they knew.
It was with relief, then, when they crested a mossy logjam – big enough to have formed a small pond behind it – and found themselves facing a branch in the path.
“Finally,” Rainbow groaned as they entered the wide fork. “We’re here.”
Gnarled roots hung down from the ground above, blotting out much of the light; the sound of running water rang out all around them, but with how strong the echo was there was no telling from which branch it came.
“Light on the right, then, eh?” Rainbow called back as she made a hurried jog around the pond’s peripherals, her energy clearly returned. Poking her head down first one path and then the other, she turned back frowning. “Both look like they’re all just rocks to me.”
“Too dang dirty,” Squirrel agreed as she moved to join her.
“I think this one’s a granite,” Rainbow said, rearing up to tap on one of the right path’s walls. “Definitely sounds like a granite.”
Squirrel gave it a tap of her own. “I think it’s mica.”
Leaving the two geologists to their work, Twilight took to examining the pond itself; unlike before, the water here lacked any rotten scent and looked clear to boot. There didn’t seem to be much of anything living in it – just some tiny, rugged-looking plants along the sides and a few little insects flitting about here and there – so she suspected it might be fit for drinking. Curiously, while she’d originally thought the wyverns were somehow causing the wretched scent and fouling downstream, the water here seemed to suggest otherwise.
From the looks of it, the lion’s share was flowing in from the leftmost route, with barely a trickle from the right.
Despite Rainbow and Squirrel’s continued bickering, neither side’s walls really looked ‘dark’ or ‘light,’ even ignoring the layers of lichen, mud and snow. “I wonder if changelings see a different spectrum than us?” Twilight wondered aloud as she took a few tentative steps down the leftern path. “Going to be reeeally annoyed if so.”
Leaving the other two behind for the moment, she started off on her own down the winding canyon. She couldn’t’ve made it more than forty feet before she had to turn back lest she lose sight of the fork, yet it was not before she’d noticed a couple of things.
“There you are!” Rainbow said, she and Squirrel having noticed her return. “Find anything?”
“Yes, actually,” Twilight nodded, a faint smile beginning to form. “There’s a bit of a breeze down there – well, there’s a breeze everywhere here, isn’t there – but this one’s kind of warm; plus, I think I saw a fern just around the first bend.”
“It was warm?” Squirrel asked, intrigued. “Huh. Not what I would’ve expected given all the snow.”
“Nah – this is mostly from a storm a few days back,” Rainbow said. “There’s no permafrost here.”
“Oh.”
“Still, though,” Squirrel plowed on. “It’s a great sign! Ferns mean nothing’s frozen, which has got to be good, and wyverns’re going to be hot, right? Wherever they are? I can’t see their dens being chilly.”
“They won’t be,” Twilight smiled. “Any luck on the right?”
“Oh, yeah,” Rainbow grinned as she bounded over to the passage. “This one’s definitely a granite,” she said, pointing to the right.
“Very definitely,” Squirrel agreed.
“Right!” Rainbow nodded. “And this one’s a rock!”
Twilight blinked. “A... rock.”
“Oh yes,” Squirrel said. “We couldn’t agree on just what type, mind you, but it’s definitely a rock.”
Twilight sighed – she should’ve expected this. “Right. Well. Left passage or right?”
“Left.”
“Yeah, totally left.”
“Oh, good – that’s settled, then.” Twilight turned back to gesture towards the pond. “Any thoughts on refilling our canteens here? How’re you two doing?”
Squirrel hopped down and over to the pond to pass what looked like a learned eye over it. After nearly a minute she gave the water a tentative lap. “Yeah, it’s okay,” she said, grabbing her canteen. “Smells like runoff from the glacier, and there’s no worrisome muck in it, either.”
Twilight hadn’t noticed anything herself, but figured if this was anyone’s area of expertise, it was Squirrel’s. The next few minutes were spent nibbling on food and drinking their fill, not knowing when the next opportunity would arise.
Once all that was settled, they packed back up and carried on. “There’s the fern,” Twilight said, nodding towards the first bend. It was bare moments before they rounded it fully and found themselves stepping into a veritable garden; here, the walls widened out a touch, with greeny-yellow ferns spilling out from ledges and crags, while a slippery carpet of drowned moss lay underhoof. The weave of roots above cast everything in dappled light, easily illuminating the many cairns set up on most every boulder, rising like islands above the stream.
“I didn’t expect this,” Twilight said, relishing the sight and warm breeze. “I suppose we took the right branch, after all.”
“Oh, you never know,” Rainbow said as she leapt ahead a couple stones, her wings flaring out for balance. “Maybe these ones mean ‘danger, go back’?”
“Abandon hope, all ye who enter here?” Squirrel suggested.
“Yeah! That!”
“Uh huh,” Twilight drawled as she took in the more practical aspects of the spot. Here, the water had pooled out enough that jumping between dry spots was a necessity: the pond behind had been absolutely frigid, shutting down any idea of simply wading through this section; unfortunately, nigh on everything was mossy. “How’s traction, Dash?”
“Bad,” Rainbow said. “Don’t think we have a choice, though.”
“Water’s not too deep,” Squirrel added, pacing along their little shore. “Cold, sure, but I don’t think it even reaches our barrels.”
Rainbow hopped over to another rock, her rear hooves slipping on the moss. “No sense talking about it,” she called back to them. “Let’s get going.”
Measuring the distance from the edge to the nearest boulder, Twilight lurched forwards and leapt, landing awkwardly on the boulder, her hooves sliding as she fought for purchase.
“You good there?” Rainbow called, clearly fighting a snicker. “’Cause we should probably save the dancing until after we get the sliver.”
“Har har,” Twilight snipped as she cautiously moved out of the way for Squirrel. “If every stone’s like that, I think we’re all going for a swim by the end of this.”
Squirrel promptly jumped over to join her, not even bothering with a run-up, and landed without sliding in the least.
“Yeah, well, Rainbow and I’ll be going for a swim, then,” Twilight grumbled.
Rainbow just fluttered her wings and hopped over to the next stone with little trouble.
Twilight sighed as she followed in her hoofsteps. “I don’t know how many much longer until we get there,” she said, having found her rhythm well enough to be confident talking. “You’re sure you didn’t see anything that could’ve been their den, earlier?”
“Saw lots of things that could’ve been caves,” Rainbow answered. “That’s the problem.”
Icy water leapt up to nip at Twilight’s belly as her rears slipped into the stream. Kicking hard off the bottom – it must’ve been a half-foot deep at this point – she splashed herself even more as she shot onto the boulder.
“Dangit, Sparkle!” Squirrel laughed behind her. “Now I’m all wet!”
Ignoring her for the moment, Twilight busied herself swiping off what water she could, thankful that her boots seemed waterproof. “You’re wet?” she shot back, glaring in equal measure at Squirrel and the treacherous stone.
The mare hopped on over, landing deftly beside her. “I was hoping to get through this dry,” Squirrel smirked.
“I’ll have you know, for someone of my stature that was a picture-perfect jump,” Twilight groused. “Anyone would’ve slipped. Rainbow doesn’t count,” she added for good measure.
“Sure, sure,” Squirrel nodded, not at all condescendingly. “The wings are cheating, after all.”
They were nearly at the section’s end, where once again a sharp, irregular bend cut off their view; while Rainbow could’ve scouted beyond at any time, she hadn’t, as she’d put it, ‘wanted to spoil the mystery.’
The final few leaps were without ado as the three of them stepped down on a raised, pebbly embankment that had built up on the outer wall. Oddly, off to the side the nubs of burnt-out candles sat in a melted clump in a small gouge in the rock, rough-hewn symbols etched around them. “What’s this?” she wondered aloud.
“Don’t know,” Squirrel said, giving it a curious look-over herself. “That’s the old script the changelings’ used way back when; they gave up on it when they started trading with everybody,” she added for Twilight’s benefit. “Can’t read it myself, though.”
“Memorial, maybe?” Rainbow suggested. “Easy enough to drown in here if there’s a flash flood, wings or not.”
That put a damper on things. With barely another glance around, they pressed on, soon rounding the bend to find themselves at yet another intersection; this time as many as four different paths branched off, depending on whether or not you counted the one that looked more like a crawl-tunnel than anything else. Without a word, they all began examining the rockwalls for any sign of light or dark.
The air was still warm, even feeling a touch muggy to Twilight; plants grew sparsely, though one could hardly call the place lush. Unfortunately, the cairns were entirely absent, as were any guiding signs on the walls, this latter rather annoying her given they knew now that ‘lings came out here on occasion.
Although, as Rainbow’d said, no one puts up directions in their own backyard.
“Any luck?” Squirrel asked, her voice muffled from out of sight.
While both sides of the path she was on did look to be different, Twilight could hardly hope to call one lighter or darker. “Not really.”
“In that case,” Rainbow said, returning to the intersection. “I say we just wing it.”
“That... sounds incredibly dumb,” Twilight said, forgetting herself for a moment. “I mean – I’m sorry, but I reeeally don’t think wandering down branches at random is in any way a sane way to progress here.”
Rainbow just shrugged, waving off her apology. “Sure – I know that – but what was it that poncy detective pony said? Once you’ve ruled out all the impossible stuff, whatever’s left are your only options? Even if they’re dumb?”
“That’s, uhh,” Twilight paused, blinking. “That’s suspiciously well paraphrased, Dash.”
Rainbow grinned. “And totally right, right? ‘Cause what else are we gonna do?”
“In Rainbow’s defence, it’s technically not bumbling about if we put up markers to show which way we came,” Squirrel said.
Twilight was still too surprised by having Currycombs quoted poorly at her to do much more than grunt.
“So!” Squirrel said, turning to Rainbow. “Which way looks good to you? I think we should go left, since that’s what we did last time.”
Coming out of her stupor, Twilight checked out the lefternmost path. There didn’t seem to be anything special going for it, but then the same could be said for the other two. “I suppose I can’t see anything wrong with that...”
“Left it is, then,” Rainbow nodded as she led the way.
The passage was narrower than the last, with a steady stream weaving underhoof. The light seemed to dim the further in they went, as the thin slit of sunlight overhead became lost amongst snow-laden boughs. Their hoofsteps echoed loudly off the walls – far louder than before – and, occasionally, the echoes of something else altogether would bounce back to them from far ahead.
“Should be good,” Rainbow muttered as she finished up a three-stone cairn; small slots would every so often break away in odd directions and none of them wanted to take any chance of getting lost on the way back.
Twilight hummed distractedly, examining the slots walls just as she’d done for every one since. “Still no colour change,” she sighed.
“I don’t think they were lying to us,” Squirrel said, answering her unasked question. “Something else is going on.”
“Yeah,” Twilight said with another sigh. “I suspect it’s an eyesight thing. Did you know that dragons can’t see violet? Spike always said I looked like the ocean. It might be something similar with changelings.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Squirrel frowned. “That’s... annoying.”
“Tell me about it.”
As they carried on, Twilight did her best to work out just how long they’d been going for. They’d left Shade around sunrise – she thought that might be around seven in these parts – trekked for a few hours until they’d found the crevice; then, after a short rest it was maybe an hour until the first branch. Add another hour for good measure and it was probably noon.
Another eerie echo rang back at them. “Just snow falling off branches, I imagine,” Twilight said, mostly to calm her nerves. “This isn’t going to be the mines all over again – it’s just random water noises.”
“Oh, definitely,” Rainbow nodded, looking for all the world eager. “Just water. I mean, the water’s being splashed by monsters, sure, but yeah – just water.”
“Why do you sound happy at that?” Squirrel muttered. “I, for one, don’t want to have anything to do with those things from the forest again. Ever.”
“Why not? We totally had them figured in the end, didn’t we?”
“Maybe these ones are different! They could be the claws-and-death kind, for all you know.”
“Girls,” Twilight interrupted. “Quiet. We’ll deal with... whatever’s making the noise when we have to. Besides, it probably is just water.”
It wasn’t just water.
A squat, adze-legged creature stepped gingerly around the pond before pausing and appearing to drink. At barrel-height and covered in a shell-like carapace, with four spidery legs and what could only be described as a pair of large pedipalps, there was no doubting that they were looking at yet another of the bizarre creatures they’d first encountered weeks ago.
“What are they doing here?” Squirrel hissed. The three of them were still some metres away, their heads poking out from one of the passage’s many bends and twists. “Isn’t it too cold for them?”
“What in the world are you basing that on?” Twilight hissed right back at her. “Besides – it’s not.” It had been getting steadily warmer over the last hour, until they’d reached a point entirely devoid of ice and snow.
“But we know them, right?” Rainbow said, acting entirely too incautious for Twilight’s liking. “We just gotta be calm and move slowly and get out of their way when we need to.”
“And don’t step on their eggs,” Squirrel added.
“Yeah – that. We did it once, we can do it again; I mean, you were literally the one that figured it out and shouted at them the first time, Twi.”
She couldn’t deny that. “Yeees, but I’m worried these may be different somehow. Lots of animals can develop traits unique to their territory – for all we know, these ones could be aggressive.”
Rainbow gave her a skeptical look. “You know we’re, like, thirty feet from it, right? And we’re talking normally.”
Twilight huffed. “Fine. Maybe they are okay. So what now?”
Rainbow stepped out fully around the corner; the creature didn’t react. “We press on.”
“But what about the time, Dash? We’ll need to go slow and cautious – there’s no way that I can see of us getting all this done today.”
“We could camp?” Squirrel suggested. “We’ve the clothes and food for it, and it is warm here. Sort of.”
Twilight opened her mouth to shoot that down, but stopped – surprisingly, she didn’t feel put off at the prospect of sleeping curled up in some damp ravine. “I suppose we could...”
Rainbow laughed. “Careful, Twi – at this rate you’ll prove Cadance right about sending you here.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Twilight chuffed. “I just don’t want all of this to be a waste.”
Rainbow stepped back to give her a swat. “Even without the sliver it still isn’t – think of the stories we’ll have!”
“Of course – however could I forget,” Twilight drawled.
“Not to interrupt, but shouldn’t we get down to brass tacks?” Squirrel said uncertainly. “It’s still early – are we looking to press on, or...?”
“Press on, of course,” Twilight said without hesitation. “We can always backtrack if we need to; plus, if these ones do turn out to aggressive, we’ll still want daylight on our way back.”
“Right,” Squirrel muttered. “On we go, then.”
They crept forward, ears perked and eyes sharp as they watched the creature for any signs of hostility. Despite her curiousity, Twilight hadn’t spent nearly as much time as she could’ve back in Hurricanum trying to learn just what they were: the few questions she’d asked just got her disinterested shrugs in return, and as she’d never expected to encounter them again, it was so easy to allow herself to be distracted by everything else.
Like before, the creature turned what probably constituted its head towards them for only a few moments before going back to the pond. “Slow and steady, right?” Squirrel whispered. “No sudden movements.”
Rainbow made a disparaging nosie, not even trying to keep her voice down. “How are you still scared of these things? We’re outside for goodness’ sake! In daylight!”
Squirrel made hurried shushing motions. “Quiet down! Like Twilight said – these could be the murderous kind!”
Rainbow scoffed and stared at the creature, now only a few metres away. “Right. Reeeal murderous.”
“Dash,” Twilight said warningly. “Quiet. Let’s just get past this one, and then we can sort out our next step.” Privately, Twilight was starting to feel a little worried about Rainbow – she was being awfully irritable given that, as she’d said, there was still open sky above.
The creature gave them no more than a passing glance, mimicing the ones from the mines weeks ago; perhaps they really would get through this unscathed? The canyon quickly turned again just beyond, leading to yet another long, largely-unbroken stretch of rocks and ferns. While she couldn’t spot out any more of the things, she also couldn’t help but think she’d caught the whiff of cinnamon in the air.
“Are you alright?” Twilight asked once they’d gone a little ways forwards. “Dash?”
Rainbow grunted, furling and unfurling her wings in turn. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just not looking forward to getting stuck underground. Again.”
“We’re not in any tunnels, Dash,” Twilight chided her as they neared the next twist in the path. “And there’s no reason to believe that’s going to change.”
Rainbow gave her a look.
“Really! We’re all in the outflow section of these gullies right now: logically, we can only go up from here.”
Now it was Squirrel’s turn to stare at her.
“Don’t look at me like that!” Twilight said, despite already beginning to second-guess herself. “Just because the last two instances of these... things... were associated with burrows and tunnels doesn’t mean this one will be too!”
They rounded the bend to find themselves in a wide basin of sorts. Water trickled in freely from somewhere above, half-drowning the carpet of moss, ferns and the scented clusters of eggs attached to most every part that stood well enough above the surface. More of the creatures perched or skittered about the place; at the far end was a tall crack in the wall, a stream gurgling merrily out of its depths.
There was no other way forwards.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
Twilight stamped her hoof, heedless of how petulent it made her look. “No,” she hissed. “No! There’s no way we’re doing this. Come on girls – let’s find some other way.”
Squirrel immediately made to cut her off. “Woah, there! Where’re you off to? What other path is there, even?”
“Lots of them!” Twilight exclaimed. “Loads, even – there’re plenty of side paths we never took!”
Squirrel looked at her skeptically. “The moment we start treating this place like a maze is the moment it becomes one.”
“Yeah, Twi,” Rainbow said, grinning now of all things. “We got this! We’ve done this stuff before, and hey – maybe the wyverns are just on the other side of here?”
Twilight continued to pout. “What happened to not wanting to go underground?”
“Oh, I still don’t want to,” Rainbow said, now looking on the verge of laughter. “But seriously? You say we won’t have to go into any tunnels and then, BAM! Instant tunnel?” She finally broke down and laughed. “Way too funny! We totally gotta do this, now.”
“She’s right, Sparkle,” Squirrel grinned at her. “The irony demands it.”
Twilight huffed, but could hardly think of a response to that. “Fine,” she eventually relented. “Fine. Maybe I’m just a bit embarassed, is all.” Though the basin – some fifty feet across, perhaps – was comfortably lit in the sun’s glow, no rays graced its bottom; whether they’d simply walked around an occluding ridge or it really was that late in the day, Twilight couldn’t say. The creatures, at least, seemed calm, despite that the few nearest them had shifted and scurried about while they’d been talking. The air was filled with the sounds of their tapping claws, an irregular tattoo that she could make neither heads nor tails of.
“Just – let’s not be hasty about this,” she hastened to add. “Can you get airborne from here?”
Rainbow looked about with an unhappy frown. “No; maybe if I was naked, but even then I’d probably turn an ankle landing again unless I wanted to plop right down right on top of their eggs.” She took a few steps forward, taking care to keep her hooves out of the frigid water. “I’ll go like this – I can retreat faster than you two, and this way we can figure out what’s in that cleft.”
“Leave your gear here,” Squirrel said, gesturing for her to hoof over her stuff.
With her satchels now slung over Squirrel’s withers, Rainbow carried on, stone-by-stone, across the basin.
She was barely halfway to the probably-a-tunnel when she realized that she was going to have to pass within a couple hoofsteps of one of the things. Looking ahead, she figured she might be able to just about skip past it with a flapping leap, but she wasn’t certain if that wouldn’t end up spooking all the rest of them. “So, how we doing this,” she muttered, in part just to see if the creature would react beyond its near-continuous tapping and striking of the ground.
It didn’t seem to, although if the thumping was some sort of language then maybe it had?
Breathing out slowy, she crept up to the pile of cobbles, her mind just as focused on her footing as the creature. “You need a name,” she continued, pausing as she planned her next step; with where the thing was perched she’d need to walk along the very edge of the knee-deep water, where all the rocks were covered in a thick, sopping-wet layer of fluffy moss. “How about... skitterbugs?” Stones shifted underhoof as she stepped onto the little island. “No? Okay... you like roots... and have smelly eggs...” The creature abruptly lurched off to the side like a startled spider, stopping just as suddenly to face her a couple of metres away; Rainbow stood frozen, her wings flared out and ready to pump as it settled back down into an odd sort of coiled crouch.
“Okaaay,” Rainbow breathed, moving a little faster as she stepped off the isle and back onto the loose network of stones; behind her, the creature carried on ignoring her. “That went well.”
“You okay, Dash?” Twilight called out to her.
Half-tempted to be snippy about it – clearly she was alright – Rainbow just waved her off instead. “All good! Thumper just spooked me!”
“Thumper?”
“They needed a name!” Rainbow said – it was obvious, wasn’t it? “And they thump the ground, don’t they?”
Twilight shared a glance with Squirrel before shrugging. “I suppose; thumpers it is, then.”
The rest of the way was fairly clear, with most of the thumpers tucked off to the sides where’d they gouged out short dens or burrows along the dirt and rock that lined the place. Water flowed swiftly out of the crack, but it didn’t seem to be occupied – there were no criss-crossing roots or anything.
She reached the threshold and paused. The stones here were built up into a sort of weir – it’d be easy to keep dry walking on them – but she couldn’t make out anything inside. “I’m going to have to go in!” Rainbow called back over her withers. “My eyes need to adjust!”
“Wait!” Twilight shouted. A few moments later a sharply-glowing orb flew over her head and straight in the darkness; lit by the passing ball, Rainbow could easily make out the sheer lack of anything interesting inside.
“There’s nothing there!” Rainbow called back. “Just some plants and eggs and stuff! Looks like it might turn and go on a bit, though!” It was hard to tell if there was an actual bend a half-dozen metres down, or if it was just a trick of the light. “I’ll need to check!”
“I’ll keep tossing!”
Taking that as her cue, Rainbow crossed over the threshold. Another orb flew past, giving her a couple of seconds light before it dissipated against the walls or surface. The tunnel still appeared entirely mundane, although she took care not to touch any of the egg clusters – they looked old and dry, but she didn’t want to take any chances.
The strobes continued as she neared the back, several steps in; here, the tunnel seemed to hook hard to the right, although it was hard to tell with how quickly the shadows moved. She turned back the way she’d come, head ducked low to avoid getting whacked by any errant faery lights. Stepping back out into the basin, she blinked at the sudden brightness of it all.
“Well!” Twilight called out to her. “What did you find!”
“I think it goes on!” Rainbow shouted as she started back to join them. “’Round the bend! I’ll need a proper light if we want to know more.”
“Which means we’re going with you,” Squirrel said, her grumbling heard from even this far away.
“Yep.”
Rainbow stood again at the threshold, the other two beside her; the thumper on the little isle had entirely ignored them this time around, which helped buoy their spirits – something which the thought of going through a tunnel narrower than any they’d had to go through before was doing much to dampen.
“You know, I think I’ve changed my mind,” Rainbow said as she led the way in, the walls lit by the pair of faery lights hovering just over their heads. “I think I hate changelings now, too – I mean, seriously, why not just give us real directions?”
“I don’t hate changelings,” Twilight chided, although from the looks of her she was beginning to doubt her own words. “I’m just unnerved by them. I’m definitely going to be griping about this once we get back, mind.”
“Might be a while,” Squirrel muttered.
They reached the bend, Twilight quickly sending forwards one of the lights. There was still nothing remarkable: the walls were tall and covered in odd stains, while the ground was sloped inwards, wet and slimy and full of sudden holes and divots just begging for an ankle to turn. The tunnel itself meandered, giving them little clue as to how far they could go before they’d need to turn back.
“It was too much to hope for some helpful graffiti, wasn’t it.”
“Seems so,” Squirrel nodded. “Let’s go on, but if it gets too narrow we’ll turn around, right?”
“Definitely,” Twilight agreed.
Rainbow, being the smallest, continued to take point. Progress was slow, there being virtually no sound places to place a hoof, forcing them to brace themselves against the walls and shimmy around sharp, protruding rocks. The stream underhoof was steady, though the echoes of some distant waterfall accompanied them every step of the way.
After who-knows-how-long they found their first oddity. “It’s definitely glowing,” Rainbow said, leaning in to cup a booted hoof over the root-end and squint close to it. “It’s sorta teal.”
Squirrel squeezed up to join her, her cheek brushing her own as she leaned in for her own look. “It’s a tuber, I think,” she said. “A plant, certainly – it’s not a surprise egg or anything.”
Twilight audibly breathed a sigh of relief behind them.
“See these little sprouts coming off of it?” Squirrel continued. “Like the kind you get on over-ripe potatoes? The glow’s just coming from them – it’s this gauzy lichen growing over it that makes it look like it’s glowing all over.”
“Can we eat it?” Rainbow said, asking the most important question first.
Squirrel side-eyed her. “Leeet’s not.”
“At least not until we’re starving,” Twilight added, giving them both a little nudge. “Let’s keep going – I’d hate to think how close it is to dark.”
“Would it even count?” Rainbow asked as she carefully worked her way back out front. “If it wasn’t for your magic lights or the potatoes, we wouldn’t even be able to see.”
“We’d still get tired,” Squirrel said. “And what about dinner break?”
Rainbow ducked under a tangled curtain of roots. “That’s a good point, actually. I’m kinda hungry now.”
The sounds of falling water redoubled as they rounded the next bend. Here, the passage started to widen out a touch, its cracks and crannies sporadically lit by yet more of the dull, luminescent tubers partially exposed between the gaps. “You’re sure they’re not edible?”
“I didn’t say they weren’t,” Squirrel hedged. “Just that we probably shouldn’t try.”
Although quietly wondering how they’d fair as a garlic mash, Rainbow left it at that for the moment: a slight breeze had kicked up out of nowhere, which could only mean one thing. “Think there’s a side-passage here,” she said, rearing up and fluffing out her wings for a better feel. “Or some sort of chimney.”
Squirrel visibly perked up. “Does that mean we’re near a way out?” Although it felt like they’d entered the tunnel not a half-hour ago, it had probably been closer to an hour or more.
Rainbow shrugged before falling back to all fours, only slipping minutely on the rocks when she did. “Maybe? Either a strong breeze a ways away, or a weak one close by – no way to tell right now.”
“Let’s keep at it, then,” Twilight said impatiently.
Things were wide enough here to let them walk loosely abreast; however, despite the openness, progress was slow, their surroundings proving far too distracting. Rainbow couldn’t really see the appeal herself – sure, the tubers were neat and all, but if you’ve seen one you’ve seem ‘em all – and the way the breeze was picking up kept making her think an exit was near.
The far end was a mess of dark corners and jagged rocks polished smooth by countless floods. The flickers of reflected light on the muddy water below were accompanied by the occasional dark spot as thumpers – little taller than her fetlocks – swam or scurried by, spooked by their trespass.
Rainbow was busy trying to work out their next steps when the light cut off suddenly, leaving her in inky darkness; she froze, tense, and tried not to move. “Twi?”
There was the sound of hurried hoofsteps before she was bathed again in the warm faery glow. “Dash! Don’t run off like that!” Twilight said, her eyes wide.
Blinking, Rainbow realized she’d turned a corner without even knowing it, breaking line of sight with the others. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it, too flustered to do more than lash her tail. “I think it’s this way,” she eventually muttered, seeing now that she’d blundered into another tunnel.
Twilight frowned at her, but didn’t press. “Lead the way, then – with a little luck, we’ll be out by dark.”
They’d just finished setting up another cairn, like as with all the others tucked against the leftmost wall, when they decided to take a few minutes’ break. Twilight was hungry and tired – they all were, really – and had long since lost track of time. Despite a good part of her fretting madly over this, the rest of her was busy trying to remind her that there were still some definite plusses: Rainbow’s indefatigable sense of direction, their cairns leading the way back out and plenty of food.
She was, however, worried about spending the night here, their newfound comfort around the thumpers notwithstanding. “How’s your water?” she asked the other two, dropping one of her faery lights down to hover low over the trickling surface as she did. “Looks fairly clear here if we need it.”
“Still fine,” Squirrel said. “Though we should wait until we find somewhere deeper – even murky water can look clear if its shallow enough.”
Twilight hummed and nodded slowly: she’d guessed as much, but right now she was just looking for some distracting conversation. “So...” she tried again. “Do you think it’s gonna rain soon?” Smooth, Sparkle – real smooth.
Squirrel snorted. “I reeeally hope not.”
“Relax,” Rainbow said. “We’re safe: you can always feel a rain coming – especially if it’s heavy – and I haven’t felt anything but dry and maybe flurries.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good.”
Conversation was quickly stifled after that, the air and the darkness getting to them in a way it hadn’t before; it wasn’t long before they were packed up and walking again.
“This was funner when we had boats, wasn’t it,” Rainbow mumbled, voicing Twilight’s thoughts aloud.
“We’ll get out soon, Dash,” Twilight tried to reassure her. “If we really need to we can always turn around and just give up on all this.” She hadn’t quite meant to word it that way.
Rainbow, predictably, gave an angry snort. “Heck, no! We got this! Just wish we had some boats, is all.”
“Might be a touch hard to work around the corners,” Squirrel said lightheartedly. “Would keep out hooves dry, though.”
Twilight was still thinking of something to add when they rounded a corner and found only darkness. “Hold up,” she said, concentrating a moment as she powered up her lights; now glowing like miniature suns, she sent one slowly forwards.
They’d stepped into a large cavern, perhaps a hundred paces deep and nearly half that wide. A pool of swift-moving water flowed from passages left and right, while on the far side lay a pebbly beach of sorts; another passage looked to lead off from it.
Their eyes were drawn most, however, to the graffiti-covered walls bordering the beach. “Oh, thank goodness,” Twilight sighed, a knot of tension she hadn’t even realized was there relaxing inside of her.
“No kidding,” Squirrel whickered. “Never thought I’d be so relieved to see a bunch of puppy-love scrawls before.” Looking again, much of the graffiti did seem to consist of initials trapped within hearts.
“Still have the pond to cross,” Rainbow pointed out; her words were belied, however, by her own relieved smile.
“Then it’s high time we started looking!”
Unfortunately, the flow was more than fast enough to have carved out a fairly deep channel: if they didn’t end up needing to swim, then it’d be close. Twilight breathed out heavily. “My breath’s not fogging,” she said. “There’s that, at least.”
“I suppose you’ve got that fancy heating light spell?” Squirrel asked as they all three paced their side, looking for some easy way across. “Would it be enough to dry us?”
Twilight shook her head. “No: it feels far warmer than it actually is; certainly it’s not hot enough for that.”
“Dang.”
It wasn’t long before they had to admit that there was nothing for it but to take the plunge or fly. “Can you get into the air from here?” Twilight asked. “When weighted, that is?”
Rainbow nodded. “Yeah – just enough room. I’m ferrying everyone’s stuff, I take it?”
“Yep,” Twilight said, already unbuckling her gear and clothes. “My warming orb can keep us cozy overnight if we’re dry; what I mean is, if this takes a bunch of trips, that’s fine.” She couldn’t help worrying that something might fall in if Rainbow felt too rushed.
“Probably close to sundown at these heights, anyways,” Squirrel agreed, a growing pile of her own gear beside her.
Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Don’t take more than I can carry – got it.” With that said she hurried to run the length of the beach, wings pumping hard as she took off in harsh spirals, looking more like a butterfly buzzing around a flower than a bird in flight.
Twilight settled herself down on a boulder next to Squirrel, huddling close to her in the cold air. “So what do you think,” she asked, her eyes only half-focused on Rainbow’s shuttle run. “Are we even going the right way?”
Squirrel chuffed. “A bit late for that, isn’t it?”
Twilight shrugged.
“Well,” Squirrel continued, kneading the ground uncomfortably. “I don’t really know much about how changelings think. I’ve pretty much only known them when they’re disguised, you know? And then they’re acting like whatever race they’ve gone as. The ones back in Shade were all naked – for all I know that makes a huge difference in what they think’s normal.”
The heavy thumps of Rainbow’s wings rang around the cavern as she looped, diving low and sharp to pick up some satchel or jacket or another before hooking back to drop it on the far beach. “Maybe there was another path, then? An easier one? The graffiti suggests as much.”
“They all have wings,” Squirrel pointed out. “They’re bat-like, sure, but that just means it must be pretty nippy in this weather; could still be a way in that’s only reachable to flyers.”
That sounded the most likely to Twilight; unfortunately, if true and the changelings did just not think to tell them, then that meant that there might not be any viable route to the wyverns, period. As she continued to sit and idly watch Rainbow work, she couldn’t help but think back on everything leading up to this point – or more precisely, the sheer speed of it all: with how quickly they were moving from town to city to who-knows-where-else, there hadn’t been enough time to slow down and panic.
She snorted softly at that, knowing that if she’d had just a few days to herself to think, she’d probably have freaked out at just how very far away she was from anything even remotely resembling normalcy, and how very far again she was from getting it back.
“You know,” Squirrel said conversationally. “This might be the last non-boring thing I do for a while.”
Twilight perked up, grateful for something to distract from the cold. “I suppose you’ll have to go back to work again, after this, won’t you? Or reapply somewhere else, I suppose.”
“Yeah. Can’t remember if I mentioned it, but I think I’ll move back in with the folks for a while; lots of jobs in Snowbound, after all, and it was nice seeing them again.”
Twilight began to nod along amiably before a sudden thought stopped her. “Wait – does that mean we’re not going to Wanderbelle anymore?” It could certainly make for a more efficient trip back if so.
But Squirrel just snorted. “All my stuff’s there! I’m still renting, you know, and I’ve got friends to say hello to again.”
“So we’re stuck with you for a bit longer, huh,” Twilight teased, bumping her shoulder.
“Not much longer – just here, back to Snowbound, and then another convoy,” Squirrel said. “Provided we don’t freeze to death first, of course.”
“Oh, of course,” Twilight agreed.
Across the pool, Rainbow stood and waited next to their gear.
“I don’t suppose you happened to see some last-second way to get across this without swimming?” Twilight called over to her.
“Nope!” Rainbow chirped. “You’re stalling!”
“Too right I am,” Twilight grumbled under her breath. The water wasn’t flowing so fast that there’d be any worry of getting dragged downstream – and goodness knew where they’d end up if it did, considering the tunnel it ran out through only rose a dark foot or so above the surface – and was barely a stone’s throw across at its shortest; nevertheless, she wished, not for the last time, that she knew some proper warming spells.
“You should go first,” Squirrel said, nudging her gently. “Since I’m the stronger swimmer I can watch you.”
Twilight sighed, but didn’t argue. “Right.” She crept up to the shore, wondering whether it’d be better to go slow and get used to the cold, or just jump right in.
An inexorable pressure from behind made her decision for her. “In you go!” Squirrel said blithely. “Don’t think about it!”
Twilight instinctively dug in her hooves, for all the good that did her. “W-wait!” she stuttered, but her forelegs were already sliding into the water, the shock of it making her gasp. Before she could even think of cursing Squirrel out she was in, her hooves kicking up little underwater whorls of pebbles and sand as she stopped resisting and instead surged forwards as fast as she could, her only real thought being that the sooner she was across, the sooner this was over.
She was up to her neck before she knew it, water nipping at her muzzle as she bounced along in a sort of half-swimming half-walking gait. Her hopes of keeping at least a part of herself dry faded as she was barely halfway across when she floundered and slipped – with just enough time to take a breath, she splashed beneath the surface. Opening her eyes, she floated there for a moment as she got her bearings, the frigid water doing more for her than any cup of coffee could ever hope. Quietly grateful for all the practice she’d gotten in the lakes and rivers back home, she swam onwards as best she could through the murk.
Resurfacing on the far slope, she gave her head a violent shake, her sopping mane whipping out of her eyes as water sloughed off her body in torrents. Hurrying onto the beach, she started shaking and swiping away as much as possible, only just remembering to shoot a backwards glance to see how Squirrel was doing.
Fine, as it turned out, her head notably dry as she walked ashore. Twilight looked away, her horn lit as she conjured a cozy ball of warmth, its even glow clashing with the harshness of her faery lights. Just as she’d guessed, it wasn’t going to be enough with how wet they were, so instead Twilight took to pacing briskly back and forth, shivering in the passing air as she tried to wring out her mane and tail. “M-might be best t-to try and dry out first,” she stuttered, hoping that this’d be better than simply curling up.
Squirrel nodded along distractedly as the wrung out her own tail, as off to the side Rainbow looked to be sorting out their jackets and scarves. “Are you actually that cold?” Squirrel asked, looking little bothered by the chill.
Twilight shot her a glare as she shook herself once again.
“I suppose you did decide to make a proper swim of it,” Squirrel chuckled. “Maybe I should’ve carried you on my back? You’re small enough.”
“Oh, shush,” Twilight grumbled, flicking some pebbles at her. Giving up on her attempts to whisk the water off, she grabbed one of her jackets and laid it down next to the hearthfire before settling down on it.
Squirrel promptly lay down next to her. “I take it we’re camping here?”
“We should probably scout ahead a little, first,” Twilight frowned – she was tired enough to call it here, but knew she’d just end up feeling silly come morning if it turned out they were just a few minutes from open air.
“Food first, scout later,” Rainbow said.
Despite the dull taste of oatbars beginning to grate, Twilight found herself relaxing as they ate and rested with no real sense of haste about them; tucked in close between the other two, and with the air in the cavern blessedly still, it’d definitely make for a decent camping spot once they were dried and geared-up again. The only thing that’d make it better would be if the river turned out drinkable, although they’d have to wait for it to clear again before they could check.
None of them could tell how long it was before they could comfortably get dressed again, but they did have to poke Rainbow out of a doze when they did. Now jacketed back up, scarves snug and boots on, Twilight dispersed the hearthfire. “Same order?”
“Sure,” Rainbow said, taking the lead. The beach had only a single exit: a fairly large natural tunnel off to one side, its walls graffitied and its floor scuffed from countless paw-steps.
“So let’s take bets,” Squirrel chirped. “How long til we get out? I’m guessing... five minutes.”
Rainbow snorted. “Nah – it’s gonna be at least a day of wiggling and shimmying to go.”
“There’s no way anybody would’ve come in this far – through here – if that was the case.”
“Well, yeah,” Rainbow scoffed, fluffing out her wings. “There’s gonna be a flying way out just up ahead – I can feel it. But us? We’re walking.”
Twilight was hoping she wouldn’t say that. “Can you actually feel that, Dash? Because I really hope you don’t.”
Rainbow hesitated before answering. “There’s definitely too much of a draft here for there not to be something.”
The air felt still to Twilight, but she wasn’t the pegasus here. “Perhaps it’s an entirely normal path out?”
“Could have stairs,” Squirrel agreed. “Just boring old stairs.”
“Right – exactly.”
Rainbow hummed doubtfully, but kept her peace.
The tunnel remained open, with no need to stoop or rear – a far cry from their way in. The graffiti soon dried up, but as there’d yet to be a single fork, they weren’t worried.
“Another tuber,” Rainbow noted as they rounded a bend, entering their largest cavern yet. The roof – some twenty feet or more above – was decorated with a sparse network of roots and tubers of varying sizes. Trickling streams and pools of water covered the ground, while flitting shapes and shadows suggested thumpers moving about.
“There weren’t any bends we missed, right?” Squirrel asked worriedly. “Because if not, then that means the ‘lings knew there were thumpers here when they sent us.”
Twilight was certain they hadn’t missed any bends.
“Makes sense to me,” Rainbow agreed. “But wouldn’t that mean the thumpers are harmless, then? ‘Cause the ‘lings don’t mind them?”
“They might be new,” Twilight countered. “Or maybe there’s something unique to changelings the thumpers don’t mind – their scent, perhaps.”
They stood at the cavern’s edge and squinted into the shadows, the faery lights hanging still above. “Definitely movement,” Twilight muttered.
“I still kinda think they’re fine,” Rainbow said as she took a few tentative steps forward. “Just s’long as we don’t kick any of their eggs; every animal’s like that, really.”
Squirrel and Twilight followed close: with so many boulders and stalagmites about the place, they’d lose sight of one another quick if they weren’t careful. “Stay close!” Squirrel hissed. “I don’t want another forest!”
Rainbow paused for half a step before continuing. “If the ‘lings use this, then I doubt we’re in... whatever that fallen tree was hiding.”
They passed a dense cluster of tubers, their teal light reflecting off the carapace of a resting thumper. “Look at the bright side,” Rainbow said as she stared warily at the creature. “The breeze’s really picked up – I think there’s some light up ahead, too.”
Twilight’s eyes shot forward, trying to pierce the gloom for any sight of day. After a few more steps she tentatively suggested culling her own lights for a chance to see the sun shining through. “Not for long!” she added hastily. “Just for a couple of seconds.”
The other two seemed to think it over for a moment before sharing a look and nodding. “Just a few seconds,” Squirrel agreed unhappily.
Twilight didn’t hesitate, dropping her faery lights before she could lose her nerve. The darkness was immediate, punctuated only by the dim glow of tubers, though even those lit only the roots they were attached to.
“There!” Rainbow exclaimed. “Ahead on the right!”
Switching her gaze, Twilight thought she could make out a lighter patch in the gloom, although frankly her eyes were still adjusting. Without waiting another moment, her horn lit up to briefly add its own raspberry glow to the cavern as her pair of faeries reappeared. A trio of thumpers skittered at the edge of their vision in the newborn light, but otherwise nothing had changed.
They stayed close together, nearly tripping over each other’s tails as they made for the likely shaft of light.
“Come ooon stairwell,” Squirrel muttered, ears perked and peering around every boulder. “Or a ladder – a pain in the flank to use, but I’ll take it.”
“I still think it’s gonna be a chimney.”
“It’s stairs.”
“Chimney.”
“Stairs!”
“Girls – please,” Twilight huffed. “At the rate you two are going, I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be nothing more than an old shard just to spite you.”
“Twiliiight!” Rainbow whined. “Don’t jiiinx it!”
“Yeah, Sparkle! Everyone knows it’s going to be a ghost or something now.”
Twilight sighed, resisting the urge to massage her temples. “Oh, look – we’re here.”
There were, in fact, stairs, roughly carved into a wide, low tunnel; blazing daylight shone in from the far end, neatly illuminating the battery of thumpers and eggs along the way.
“Alriiight!” Squirrel smiled with a pleased flick of her tail. “Stairs!”
“It hardly counts when they’re so long and flat,” Rainbow grumbled as she led the way onwards. “It’s like, what, ten steps? Totally doesn’t count.”
“Does to.”
“Girls!” Twilight cut in quickly. “Focus! There’re still thumpers in the way, and a lot of those eggs look fresh.”
“I guess...” Rainbow trailed off, pausing near the entrance. “Hey Twi – this is steep, right? In some places? It looks kinda steep.”
Twilight fought the urge to poke her in the flank. “Dash, this had better not be going where I think it’s going.”
“Well I’m just saying!” Rainbow gasped, the very model of righteous indignation. “It’s steep, right? And if it’s steep, then it’s got more in common with a chimney than a staircase, right? That makes sense, right?”
“No, Dash, it does not.”
“Ha!” Squirrel crowed. “Hear that? Twilight says I’m right!”
“She does not! Tell her, Twi!”
“I’m not getting into this, girls.”
“See? She says I’m right!”
“Does not!”
“Does to!”
Twilight made an exasperated huff as she stepped over to give the both of them pokes. “Could we at least try to be civil, here? We don’t need to get mauled at the finish line just because you two couldn’t keep your voices down!”
Rainbow jumped, an embarassed flush dusting her cheeks. “Yeah... I guess. Sorry Twi.”
“My bad, boss,” Squirrel agreed, self-consciously rubbing a foreleg.
Twilight rolled her eyes, but didn’t comment. “Good. Right, then. What’re we doing about the thumpers in the way? Slow and steady should work – it has been so far.”
Rainbow perked back up again and cast a critical eye on their exit. “Could do – they don’t look agitated or anything.”
“None of them are particularly big, either,” Squirrel added. “Could fight them off and bolt if we really needed to.”
Twilight hoped it wouldn’t come to that. “Alright... well, I’ll admit I’d rather plan this out some more and see if there’s a clearer way out, but...” she trailed off again as she tried to find the right words. “I’m tired.” And she was – to the bones.
“Same,” Rainbow said, Squirrel nodding beside her. “I’ll lead.”
Squirrel took a deep breath as she sheparded Twilight in front of her. “I’ll take rear.”
They crept up to the tunnel, the trickling streams underhoof replaced with a thin carpet of crackling leaves and twigs blown in from up ahead. Roots hung down far from the ceiling, in many places piercing right back into the ground below. Thumpers nested within the tangles, their eggs small and tucked into crooks near the walls and cracks.
Twilight jolted as she felt a thwump on her back. “Easy, Twilight,” Squirrel breathed, right behind her. “It’s just a small one.”
Carefully turning her head to look, Twilight saw that it was indeed a hoof-sized thumper that had dropped onto her, and was even now curling up comfortably between one of her panniers and the folds of her jacket. “Oh, good,” she muttered. “I’ve got a new pet.”
“Maybe it’ll keep us safe?” Rainbow suggested, having fallen back to peer at it herself. “Like, they’ll think we’re one of them, now?”
“I think we’d all have to be covered in them for that,” Squirrel said. “And I’d really rather not.”
Still doing her best not to shake it off, Twilight turned back forwards. “Let’s just carry on, shall we? We’ll deal with my passenger afterwards.” Quietly, she was really hoping that these things weren’t anything like tarantula wasps; she still had a sneaking suspicion they were as harmless as wolves – if you didn’t bait them, you’d be fine – but she wasn’t particularly comfortable with the idea of waiting to find out.
More thumpers threatened to tumble down on them every time they pushed aside a curtain of roots or lichen. The tunnel exit was still nothing more than a too-bright bloom of white, but the breeze had kicked up and brought with it a fruity scent that mingled with the cinnamon so well that it sent Twilight’s stomach growling.
“You know,” Rainbow said as she casually brushed a thumper off her head. “This chimney’s not so bad.”
Squirrel groaned. “Seriously? These are stairs. Stairs!”
“Same difference,” Rainbow shrugged, shooting a grin back over her withers. “How’re your friends?”
Squirrel huffed, having gathered a collection of her own hitchhikers at some point. “I’m sooo not looking forward to rooting them out of my kit.”
“Too bad,” Rainbow snorted. “We’re here.”
They stepped out together into the sunlight, blinking as their eyes adjusted. Before them lay a craggy gulch, its walls steep and moss-covered, with hardy saplings growing from whatever ledges they could find; yet more trees grew tall on the ground beyond, casting them in dappled light. A swift stream, some twenty paces across, flowed out of a wall of drowned caverns a little to their right before disappearing around a bend not a hundred metres the other way.
“Pretty,” Twilight said, ice-crusted snow crunching underhoof. “Cold, but pretty.”
“I can take off here,” Rainbow noted.
Squirrel hummed, glancing around and up at the sky. “It’s late – we’re camping here, aren’t we? Let’s first find some shelter and get a fire going if we can.”
It ended up taking another fifteen minutes before they could even leave the threshold, tied down as they were extricating the various thumpers from their gear and setting them down just inside the cave. “Finally,” Twilight sighed, her horn dimming as she lay down the last of them. “Done.”
Squirrel watched as it skittered past her hooves and into the dark. “Now we just have to find somewhere to kip down for the night – anywhere out of the wind will do.”
As one they turned back to the gully. “Looks like the only way to go is left,” Twilight said.
“Left it is, then.”
The snow here was virtually untouched, with only the occasional animal track to mar it. To Twilight’s untrained eye, the sides and slopes were littered with places to curl up in, but Squirrel kept ushering them downstream whenever she brought one up; it wasn’t long, then, before they neared the bend.
“It’s just more of the same!” Rainbow shouted back to them, having grown impatient and hurried ahead. “There’s an overhanging rock tunnel thing ‘bout half a mile off, but nothing else!”
Squirrel picked up her pace, leaving Twilight to catch up. Hurrying in her wake, she glanced up at the sky and figured it was early evening by now, considering the evenness of the light. She didn’t like the idea of insisting they stop, but she was worried she’d have to.
She rejoined the other two to find that Rainbow had been spot-on – barring the rather lovely stone archway crossing the gully ahead, there was nothing remarkable around.
“I still smell something fruity,” Rainbow said. “Can’t place it, though.”
“Won’t be the trees,” Squirrel agreed. “We can check it out as we go; my vote’s for hunkering down under that arch – closest thing to shelter we’re going to find.”
Twilight hummed her agreement as they set off, taking care to stay several paces away from the stream in case of any hidden, snow-covered puddles. “How far are we from Shade, do you think?”
Rainbow gave a knowing smirk, but kept silent.
“We’re heading west,” Squirrel said. “And we started north. It’s been several hours, but that canyon and those caves were all twisty, difficult things, weren’t they. I can’t see it being much quicker going back, if that’s what you mean.”
Twilight nodded glumly. “Our cairns’ll help us in the canyon, but yeah, you’re right; if this sliver turns out to be too heavy, we’ll probably have to leave it behind.”
“Might be able to get the wyverns to help?” Squirrel suggested.
“With what currency? We’re still going to have to play it by ear just to get the dang thing in the first place.”
“That’s... a point, yes. What was the plan, anyways? I think it’s about time you told me.”
“Well, drams were always the first go-to,” Twilight said agreeably. “But wyverns value their myths and legends a great deal; I suppose I was hoping that if nothing else, we could convince them that the sliver’d be so valuable to uncovering the mystery of the Everfree that they’d be remiss not to grant it to us.”
Squirrel paused mid-step. “You were planning on just talking them into giving it you? Just like that?”
Twilight sighed, but couldn’t argue how horribly optimistic that sounded. “I know it’s unlikely, but even I got the impression Tern thought we could do it despite our lack of treasures; plus, there’s really not any risk here, is there? Not with how close we are Shade.”
They’d gone a few more steps before Rainbow spoke. “’Bout ten minutes!”
“... What?” Twilight blinked, momentarily confused.
“From Shade! About ten minutes!”
Snow crunched underhoof. “Are you serious?” Squirrel breathed. “We’re only ten minutes from Shade?”
“Oh, for me, yeah,” Rainbow grinned. “We’ve backtracked a little bit south – it’s just over there,” she added, gesturing carelessly behind them. “Actually, I think if we had a ladder and some rope we could probably just walk back in a couple hours.”
“Huh,” Twilight said, her spirits lifting. “That’s... a plan, then. We have rope, too.”
“Knew it was a good idea to get some!” Squirrel smirked.
“Yeah, yeah,” Twilight grumbled. “I never said it was silly – I just didn’t think we’d need to, and my pack’s heavy enough as it is.”
“Riiight.”
Twilight sighed, but could hardly argue – it was a rather weak excuse. “Nevertheless! We have rope and a possible shortcut back.”
“Yep!” Rainbow chirped. “Now we just need a magic rock.”
The archway wasn’t nearly as drafty as Twilight had feared at first, perhaps because it stood a good three or four metres above their heads. Scree littered the sides, some of which they were busy kicking down the slope in the hopes of digging out a cozy depression to sleep in.
“Won’t be light for much longer,” Rainbow said, standing beside her shucked gear. “If I’m taking a fly around, I need to go now.”
“Just don’t get eaten,” Twilight said with a nod. “If you see any wyverns, keep your distance.”
“Yeah, yeah, mom,” Rainbow rolled her eyes before quickly turning tail and heading back the way they’d come.
Ignoring her grumbling, Twilight stood back to admire their divot. “Should do nicely,” she said – the prospect of a good rest backed by Squirrel’s assurance that the stream below was clear had much buoyed her spirits.
“Yup! Just need to work out someplace for a campfire.”
“You think there’s enough dry wood around here?”
“For all night? No,” Squirrel said with a shake of her head. “But I’d be keen to see if we can’t cook down whatever’s making that fruity scent into some sort of sauce for the oatbars with whatever fire we can get going.”
Twilight’s smile widened. “If you want to go and find out, I can finish this.”
“Grand!” Squirrel chirped as she turned to follow in Rainbow’s tracks. “I’ll keep in shouting distance.”
“Thanks.”
With how dark it was becoming beneath the arch, Twilight threw up a cloud of pin-prick faery lights, casting the slope in an even, ethereal glow while she continued to clear out their hollow; as it was, they should all three be able to curl up together out of the wind. Her instincts were telling her they were safe: any dangerous creatures this close to the wyverns – or the changelings, for that matter -- would’ve long been extirpated.
It wasn’t long before a smiling Squirrel came back to doff a pannier nigh-overflowing with minute, orange fruits. “Found ‘em,” she grinned as she carefully sorted them out near a little place Twilight had cleared for a fire. “They were on some reeeal low shrubs buried under the snow.”
“Excellent!” Twilight exclaimed, reaching over to pick one up and give it a tentative nibble. “Tastes alright.”
“I should hope so,” Squirrel said, already turning back around. “I’ll grab us a bit of wood.”
Twilight waved her off as she set about sorting through the fruits and getting Squirrel’s cooking pan out onto a rough pit. Humming a quiet tune, she kept half an eye on pitting the fruits and the other half on the twinkling off-white dot of Squirrel’s faery shard bobbing in the rapidly-approaching dusk.
The clatter of loose pebbles swung her attention the other way; before she could decide what to do, she recognized Rainbow stepping into the light. “What’s Squirrel doing?” Rainbow called out. “And toss my canteen down, too!”
Twilight instead levitated it over, alongside her own and Squirrel’s. “Firewood! She’s found some fruit, so we’re going to do up a sauce!”
Rainbow’s tail flicked excitedly. “Nice! I’ve still got those spices from Drizzle, you know!”
Twilight gave a little cheer as she waited for Rainbow to refill their canteens – today was looking to end on a high note.
Squirrel stumbled back into camp not long after, her gait awkward under the short stack of dead wood balanced upon her back. The sweet, citrusy scent of diced fruit accompanied Twilight as she walked down far enough to ease her telekinesis, her horn aglow as she shuttled the wood on up.
“Finally!” Rainbow called teasingly. “What took you so long!”
“Oh, shush,” Squirrel said as she reached the top. “At least we’ve enough for cooking; the rocks’ll hold the heat well, too.”
Twilight kept herself off to the side while the two of them fussed about the food and fire, instead pulling out her logbooks and doing her best to figure out where, exactly, they were. Soon, though, she was far too distracted by the smells of dinner to do anything but stare and wait. Despite being exhausted, chilly and sore, she found herself content.
Unusually, Rainbow found herself the first to wake up, groggy and stiff. The predawn light cast everything in a bluey, even glow; their fire had long since gone out, its embers cold and grey. She blinked and crawled out from where she’d tucked herself in beside the others, leaving their cozy divot and heading down to the stream below.
She shook herself and splashed some icy water on her face; despite how little she cared to be up at this hour, she’d seen enough with her scouting yesterday to know the wyverns were just around the corner – with a spot of luck, they could be back in Shade by nightfall.
A few pebbles tumbled down the bank as Twilight ambled down to join her, leaving the sounds of grumbling behind. “How’re ya feeling?” Rainbow asked.
“Sore,” Twilight grunted.
Rainbow flicked her tail in amusement – her bestie really needed to exercise more. “I’ll bet. We’re almost there, though, right?”
Twilight nodded sleepily as she splashed some water on herself. “Yep.”
They broke camp quickly, a sense of eagerness colouring their every action: they all knew this was the final leg. With the last of it packed, they left the shelter of the arch and continued on west, their breaths making puffs of fog in the crisp air.
“I’ll stay down here,” Rainbow said: they were only a few turns away from their destination and she hardly wanted to be caught up in the sky when they met the sentries – provided there were any.
“Safest that way,” Squirrel agreed. “And you’re sure the nest is just ahead? It’s not like... I don’t know, just a bunch of them camping or something?”
Rainbow gave her a look.
“Or, uhh... okay, that sounded kind of dumb, didn’t it,” Squirrel blushed.
“Yes,” Rainbow agreed. “Very yes.” The ‘nest,’ such as it was, looked more like a great, shadowy overhanging along one of the canyon’s edges; if it wasn’t for the hoofful of wyverns moving about, and the many, many scratches, gouges and rigas, she might’ve missed it entirely.
“We’ll do the talking,” Twilight said, quick to assure to Squirrel. “They’re not likely to actually be aggressive, although we should definitely expect some posturing, so once again, we’ll do the talking.”
“Good, good,” Squirrel muttered, not looking much happier about things; still, she wasn’t turning tail and running.
They reached a fork of sorts in the gully and took the leftern path. From what Rainbow’d seen, even calling it a ‘gully’ was being generous – it was more that the ground here was so broken, and its boulders and mountain arms so big, that any vaguely clear space was almost by necessity a shallow canyon.
Shrubbery dominated the area, the plants barely half their height but their branches thick and sprawling. More than once they’d been forced to clamber over great clumps of them, their going slowed immensely as they strode across their tops.
Rainbow huffed when a hoof slipped between the branches, snow slapping her in the belly.
“You could always fly,” Squirrel grumbled behind her, likewise not enjoying herself in the least.
“I’m staying,” Rainbow grumbled back. “I’m not missing this.”
They struggled on, accompanied by the sounds of crunching snow and laboured breaths; occasionally, the heady thump of distant wingbeats could be heard, echoing dully around them. “Should just be over there,” Rainbow said, jerking a wing towards a nearby rocky crest.
Twilight hurried ahead of her and into the lead. “I’ll go first.”
Rainbow didn’t protest – she didn’t really know as much about dragons as Twilight did, after all.
The ground spilled out into a shallow, cobble-strewn channel of sorts; a tall cliff ran the length of the far side, its base undercut by some long-forgotten river, while fire-scorched trees and stubborn, reedy grasses lined its banks. Glimmers of movement danced in the shadowed undercut as the rising sun flickered off multi-coloured scales along the entire length, making the darkness look like so many rainbow eels writhing in a basin.
They stood in mutual silence, even Twilight looking uncertain how to procede. Rainbow fidgeted, her wings furling and unfurling in agitation. She knew they’d been spotted – how couldn’t they’ve been? – and hated the fact that all they could do about it was stand and wait.
“’Posturing’ indeed,” Squirrel muttered, head down and ears folded.
“They’re probably deciding who has to deal with us,” Twilight said, her voice distant and calm. “An uncommonly large nest like this wouldn’t have just a single matriarch.”
Rainbow nodded along as though she’d remembered any of that – she was more into the cool dragony stuff, and not so much their politics.
It was still some minutes before a head – its scales rich in hue and brass in colour – poked out of the darkness to stare at them; after a tense half-minute the rest of it followed, revealing a long, sinewy body, easily ten times their length from snout-to-tail, that trudged ominously towards them on taloned-rears and thumb-clawed wings. It was silent, apparently content to let them sweat as it got ever closer.
Most of the dragons Rainbow’d seen back in Equus were the far smaller pyres; the only times she’d had anything to do with what few wyverns there were were the couple of times she’d managed to spot one in flight and join them for a time, and even then it was hard to judge size in midair.
That she’d had to dodge irritated gouts of flame both times certainly didn’t help, either.
The wyvern reached them, but kept its peace, content instead to merely stare down at them haughtily. It was a minute at least before Twilight spoke.
“Hello, there!” she said, still sounding as calm as she ever did when her curiousity beat out her senses. “My name’s Twilight! We weren’t looking to trespass, but we were hoping to find a sliver here?”
The wyvern snorted a great, humid cloud of stale breath.
“But, umm... you might know it as a talon?” Twilight said, her ears starting to wilt. “Of Cos? The, uhh, changelings in Shade said there was one around here? Maybe?”
Still no response; worse yet, Squirrel was starting to look alarmed.
“We can trade,” Rainbow said, figuring she was going to have to butt in. “Dunno what, but we can. Can’t do anything if you just stare at us, though,” she added with a glare. She’d never learnt how to read dragons worth a darn, but she had a feeling there were worse things to do than guess. Hopefully.
Rather than answering immediately, the wyvern kicked up the ground beneath them, smoothing it down before settling comfortably on their belly, their great, feathery wings – the primaries easily as long as Rainbow herself – tucked in close beside. “It is rare to see mere ponies so far out from the city,” the wyvern said in a deep, raspy, sibilant voice. “You may call me Quill.”
Silly, as dragons’ names go, but if Quill’s real name was anything like Spike’s, then it was undoubtably unpronouncable. “Rainbow,” Rainbow nodded. “And the one trying to hide behind me is Squirrel.”
There was a surprised snort and hurried shuffle of movement behind her.
“Like Twilight was saying, we’re looking for a sliver,” Rainbow continued, before hastily explaining just what that was. “It’s a magic rock.”
The wyvern – Quill – gave her a blank look, in as much as Rainbow could tell at all.
“It’s not a magic rock!” Twilight said, her voice heavy with indignation. “It’s crystallized mana!”
Quill, with what Rainbow thought might be a bemused expression, looked between the two of them. “We have such a thing,” she said, her voice still too deep to pick up on any inflection. “One of the calves picked it up last summer, I believe.”
“So you still have it!” Twilight exclaimed happily. “That’s marvelous! I don’t suppose you’d be willing to trade?”
“If it’s reasonable!” Rainbow hastily added, thinking of all the horrible fates that befell the people in her books for making hasty deals with dragons. “And no shenanigans, either!”
“Yeah!” Squirrel squeaked out. “Don’t eat us!”
Rainbow huffed and gave her a flick of the tail – she did not need to get derailed right now. “Ignore her.”
Quill seemed to perk up. “So you would be willing to let us eat one of you for the stone?”
“What? No!” Twilight gasped.
The wyvern let out a gusty rumble, its great wings ruffling as it gave the deepest, boomiest laugh Rainbow had ever heard. “Fret not, little ponies,” she chuckled, for lack of a better word. “If that was our wish, then we would have long since done so.”
“Good,” Rainbow said as firmly as she could. “No eating ponies.”
“Indeed.”
Twilight shuffled in place, kicking awkwardly at the ground. “Sooo... how about it? We have... well, not much, really.”
“We’re open to suggestions,” Rainbow added quickly.
Quill looked between the three of them, as though expecting something more. “Did the residents of Shade-Under-Down not better inform you? Certainly you passed through the town on the way here.”
Rainbow snorted, but Twilight beat her to the punch.
“No,” Twilight said with an irritated frown. “They didn’t tell us about a lot of things.”
Quill nodded sagely. “Changelings are peculiar beings. They sought the talon, and would have had it for a trifle, too, but alas, lacked in anything to trade.”
“Surely they had money,” Twilight argued. “Or other supplies – they stood to make more than enough from their client to compensate you.”
“Of what use is money to us?” Quill countered. “And of what use is ‘supplies’? We have all that we need, and acquire for ourselves aught else we might; so, too, do I feel little inclined to tell you the story of their endeavours freely.”
Twilight seemed stumped by that. “We were hoping to use the sliver for a project – there’s a roving, tangled-up grand leyline I think it could help re-anchor.”
Quill looked faintly interested. “A worthy purpose, perhaps, but reality and desires are oft divorced: why would I grant you something real for something you merely intend? The trade would seem imbalanced.”
“Well, what about something else, then?” Rainbow said, doing a quick pirouette as she tried to find something to work with. “We could give you Squi – oh wait, no ponies. Umm...”
“We could ask?” Squirrel huffed, apparently too busy glaring at Rainbow to feel spooked.
“Well,” Twilight chirped, cutting off Rainbow before she could say anything. “If money and supplies and motivations are out... let’s see... pyre dragons are dreadfully fond of gemstones – to a fault, really.”
Quill gave a silent glance at her wings. Quick flick of the eyes, little bit of a huff, Rainbow thought as she did her best her to remember every little interaction she’d had with Spike, his mum, and however many other dragons she’d bumped into in the past. Shifted her weight to the side, too – definitely not annoyed.
As Twilight continued her train-of-thought babbling, the wyvern just stared silently at the three of them, Squirrel not least of all as the mare was starting to get antsy again; Rainbow did her best not to roll her eyes at that – Quill was clearly amused, given how her rears kept clenching and unclenching the earth.
“According to The Eyes of Eagles, intangible gifts were amongst the most valuable to the Catter nests,” Twilight muttered, at some point having fallen to pacing. “Could trade lessons? No, no – no vocational overlap.”
With half-an-eye on Quill – who still looked amused – Rainbow gave Squirrel a nudge. “Haven’t fainted yet?”
“This was a dumb idea,” Squirrel hissed at her, her eyes wide. “I can’t believe I believed you two when you said you’d ‘work it out’!”
Rainbow shrugged nonchalantly. “Twi’s got this! Worst case scenario, we turn around and we’re in Shade by nightfall.” Assuming either she or Twilight could climb well enough, of course.
“Still not happy,” Squirrel grumbled.
Despite how unlikely Rainbow thought that was, she stepped over to stand close by Squirrel’s side in the hopes that that might calm her a bit.
Meanwhile, Twilight’s pacing had only increased in tempo. “Could offer species-unique aid? No – arcanomantic abilities can be mimiced, strength and flight redundant. Accrued maps and contacts? No – maps useless to a sedentary population, contacts superceded by local changelings. Skills? No, no, no...”
“We can cook?” Squirrel suggested suddenly, having begun to shoot worried looks at Twilight. “Food, that is – not us.”
“Yeah,” Rainbow added – it was probably best to head things off before Twilight could work herself up too much. “I’ve still got some great spices, too; dunno if they’ll taste good to you, but still.”
“Could get some peachy plants?” Squirrel added hesitantly. “They taste pretty good.”
“I think they could get those themselves if they wanted to.”
“Maybe they can’t smell them,” Squirrel countered. “Or see them – they were small.”
“Ahh,” Rainbow nodded sagely, still keeping an eye on Quill. “Because dragons are known for their awful eyesight. Of course.”
Squirrel gave her a poke in the side. “Maybe we should offer them your feathers? Could make a nice dreamcatcher out of them.”
“Oh, dragon’ dreams are waaay too big for little feathers like these.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Could trade bickering?” Twilight said, interrupting them. “Somehow? Or silence? Might have higher value.”
Quill shifted slightly at the mention of silence. Did the same thing when Twi shot down the maps and stuff, too... “Oh!” Rainbow exclaimed, her tail swishing – it was kind of obvious in hindsight. “I get it! We can trade stories and stuff, right? About where we’ve been? I’ve heard about that somewhere.”
“Heroes regaling others of their stories are a pretty big deal in the legends around here,” Squirrel added with barely a pause, her own ears perking up. “The changelings wouldn’t’ve been able to trade any more, either, because they wouldn’t have any new ones to tell!”
Twilight looked nonplussed. “That... sounds ridiculous. I know I said wyverns care greatly for these kind of things, but we’re not exactly heroes.”
“Oh, come on, Twi! Quill here even said the sliver’s worth a trifle, and how couldn’t it be fun to trade it for a tale of all the adventures we had to get here! There were monsters and everything!”
“I suppose oral histories are the dominant form amongst wyverns... back home, at least,” Twilight said, glancing at Quill as she did. “And wandering thespians are a thing... I still think trading a story for a sliver is patently absurd, however.”
“Noted,” Rainbow said primly. “So whaddaya think, Quill? Like Twilight said, if we get all oral with you, will ya trade us the sliver?”
“Okay, right, no,” Squirrel said, cutting off any possible response from Quill. “Phrasing, Rainbow – phrasing.”
Sometimes it was just too easy. “Riiight. My bad!” Rainbow chirped as she waved off her concerns. “Still, though – how’s that sound, Quill?”
Twilight looked like she wanted to add something, but couldn’t seem to get the words out past her blush.
“Your purpose is sound,” Quill agreed. “And tales unquestionably have value; so, too, is the talon but a trinket; however, let us go somewhere more comfortable, first.” With that said, she turned and lumbered back towards the cleft.
Rainbow blinked at their sudden agreement, but recovered and quickly followed. “Come along, you two!” she shot back over her withers. “It’s story time!”
The crunching of hoarfrost and pebbles pursued her. “I still can’t believe this is working,” Twilight grumbled once she’d caught up. “Stories can’t be currency!”
“Books are,” Squirrel countered. “Lots of fiction novels out there, aren’t there?”
“Well... yeees,” Twilight hedged. “But that’s different.”
“Because of the paper,” Rainbow finished for her. “Very expensive stuff, paper is. Has ink on it, too.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Twilight was... confused, to say the least. While she knew that wyverns grossly favoured the oral traditions – far and again more so than their more book-oriented pyre cousins – she really hadn’t anticipated them being willing to, essentially, swap a sliver for a story; still, she wasn’t about to look a gift-dragon in the mouth.
The cliff loomed tall as they approached. She could make out several dragons – anywhere from a little to a great deal smaller than Quill – moving about in the shadows. Despite how nervous she felt entering a dragon’s nest, her curiosity was starting to get the better of her.
She drifted away a few steps from the other two and towards one of the many rigas set about the undercut; carved into a large, glacial-polished boulder, the symbols – or were they runes? -- reminded her of the arcane glyphs she’d grown accustomed to using in her projects back home, only, perhaps, that these were born of another language. Nevertheless, inlaid with gold and copper as they were, they were beautiful.
“Come along, Twi!” Rainbow called back to her, a wide smile evident on her face. “I’m sure there’s loads more like that inside!”
There probably was. “Coming!”
It took her eyes some moments to adjust as she stepped inside; the ceiling here was remarkably low considering the size of the inhabitants, although given how scratched up and smoothed it was, the wyverns would probably agree. Divots like shallow bowls many metres across littered the floor, many of which bore curled-up wyverns glancing over at them curiously; of much greater interest to Twilight, however, was the far wall.
Lit by strands of wickerlight, the wall was a tapestry of peoples and events etched and painted in equal measure, running the entire hundred-plus-metre-long undercut, showing what Twilight could only guess were the myths and legends of the locals. The work looked to be divided into a hoofful of chunks, with simple, elegant sculptures set in the floor at each barrier.
There was a tinkling underhoof as she found herself walking unbidden towards it through the thin carpet of scales that littered the floor.
“Easy there, Twi,” Rainbow chuckled from beside her. “Let’s maybe ask before wandering through the nest?”
Twilight stopped short. “Oh! Right.”
Quill was looking at her blankly, no more expressive now than she’d been this whole time. “Umm... may I?”
The wyvern – hunched beneath the low roof, her posture distinctly serpentine – seemed to stare right through her. “Yes,” Quill said after some moments, her voice loud and booming.
“Thank you!” Twilight exhaled before bounding off towards the inner wall.
Rainbow watched her go with an easy smile. “Well, that’s her busy for the next while.”
Quill hummed in what Rainbow took to be pleased amusement. “We have not had ponies in here for some decades.”
“Really?” Squirrel said with an interested look. “Who were they? Can’t imagine they were just camping.”
“I had thought you wished to trade your adventures for the stone?” Quill said with an odd, hissing growl; Rainbow couldn’t place it, but it didn’t seem at all threatening. “Would you rather, then, a tale for a tale?”
“N-no!” Squirrel squeaked, her ears flat. “J-just the sliver!”
Rainbow tried not to roll her eyes as she gave the mare another nudge. “Geez, Squirrel – chill! If we were really going to get eaten, then it’s not like there’s anything we can do to stop it; why even worry?”
Oddly, Squirrel didn’t look much comforted by that. Shrugging, Rainbow turned back to Quill. “So what’s the plan? Twilight’s got our maps and logs and stuff, and she’s going to be busy for a bit.”
Quill paused for a moment before responding. “Come,” she said, turning to lead them further in. “The navy one will be safe in the meanwhile.”
Rainbow nodded and nudged Squirrel forwards. “Sounds good!” The slight twitching and flicking of Quill’s wings and tail gave Rainbow the distinct impression she was about to show them something interesting. “Looks like we’re about to see the sliver, eh Squirrel?”
Squirrel shot her a confused look. “What makes you say that?”
“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? Besides, it makes sense to see before the trade – just in case it’s something else, you know?”
“I guess...” Squirrel mumbled, her head still on a swivel as she took everything in, not least the many wyverns they were now passing by. “There must be dozens in here...”
“Sounds about right,” Rainbow agreed. She smiled and gave a friendly wing-wave to a tiny calf, barely longer than she was, staring out curiously from under a parent’s wing. “Haven’t even heard of any this big back home.”
Squirrel made a funny noise. “How are you so calm!?”
Rainbow blinked. “Because there’s nothing to be afraid of?” She glanced back to see Squirrel looking at her like she was mad. “What?”
Twilight was barely aware of her surroundings as she approached the murals, her horn already aglow as she added her own faeries to the dim wickerlight hanging down in waves like overgrown moss. It was unintelligible, really – she understood the acts depicted well enough, but could hardly hope to apply context – but even a book in another language still had a certain appeal to it.
She’d never been to any nests back home – Spike didn’t live in one – and had no idea if this was common; certainly there’d been some overlap here and there, but this? At least from the looks of it, their fondness for narrative histories was going to be playing in their favour, big time.
Rearing up, she got a good look at a central figure, its wings spread wide as it towered over a cluster of eggs; judging by the rays of light shining out from behind, as well as its beautific expression, she figured it was either some sort of deity, or perhaps the nest’s founder, although given the semi-nomadic structure most nests – back home, at any rate – favoured, the latter seemed unlikely.
“You’re looking at it wrong,” a voice hissed out from behind.
Startled, Twilight jumped a little as she turned to find a smaller, teal wyvern only a few steps away. “Oh! I’m sorry!” she squeaked, beginning to babble before she could reign it in. “I mean... how do you mean?”
The calf – at barely four metres tip-to-tail they could hardly be anything else – snorted. “It would be brighter here if we wished it.”
Twilight blinked before realizing what they meant; culling her light, she turned back to the mural. She didn’t notice any difference at first, bar being distinctly brighter at the top and darker at the bottom, but after pacing a couple steps this way and that, she thought she could make it out. “It’s textured, isn’t it,” she murmured as she leaned in for a closer look. “I couldn’t see it in the even light.”
The wyvern hummed.
While it didn’t seem to make a difference to what was actually there – no hidden shapes or symbols were suddenly visible – it did add to the aethestics of it all. “I wonder if the wyverns around Drizzle had anything like this?”
“Yes,” the wyvern answered simply. “What are we without where we’ve been?”
Twilight filed that away for the moment as she walked slowly down the length of the mural, her teal shadow keeping pace. There didn’t seem to be any sense of linearity to the work – it almost looked like it jumped between events at random – nor could she make heads or tails of just who the dragons were; nevertheless, she found herself enjoying the unexpected find.
“So this is your history?” It looked far too vague and varied for a single nest, but she wasn’t going to get anywhere without asking.
“Some,” the wyvern answered with a curious tilt of his head. “Do ponies not value such things?”
“We do! Greatly! We just... write it in books, mostly,” Twilight said a touch uncertainly – she felt like she was missing something here. “And sometimes statues and folklore; even subtle things like architecture carry history with them.”
The wyvern nodded slowly as they neared a highly-decorated section bearing what looked like a great, roiling natural spring. “This is the --” they made a soft crooning noise “-- which the changelings say is the Fountain of Lys. Does it not resemble your own depictions?”
Twilight scrutinized the mural: the spring was surrounded by what looked like hills and sharp mountains, calligraphy and interlocking shapes. “It... does not. What is it?”
Here the wyvern paused and looked perplexed, the wickerlight glinting off his scales like so many stars. “The beginning? Of everything? I don’t understand – the world was born of the Fountain; how can you not know this?”
A creation myth! Twilight’s eyes widened, her curiosity sweeping aside her other thoughts. “Oh! I do! It’s just told differently where I’m from. It would be fascinating to hear it, though – perhaps we could share sometime?” She really hoped she’s have time to – oral myths were notoriously difficult to get a hold of.
The wyvern nodded slowly. “A trade of stories, then – if we have time.”
The mural ended abruptly at the entrance to a deeper, larger tunnel, its final imagery of circles above waves bound with flowing script. “Where’s this go?” Twilight wondered, her mind so caught up in moments ago that she’d failed to see it coming. The passage – so wide and tall that not only could it fit any of the wyverns far more comfortably than the undercut itself, it was also necessarily gouged out by claw – was dark, with only occasional patches of wickerlight hanging down from the ceiling to give some sense of depth.
The wyvern made a curious trilling noise. “Surely you didn’t think this was everything?”
Twilight swished her tail in thought. “The divots suggest you sleep out here... and I can’t imagine you’d be happy for long without access to the sky. Hoards aren’t really a thing, at least not in the fairy tale sense... pantry, perhaps? Or a second exit?”
“The latter; I’m surprised you can’t feel the breeze.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not winged,” Twilight grumbled. “I imagine it would be overstepping my bounds to go down it?”
“No, but is it why you came here?”
Twilight spun around, her eyes wide as she tried to spot the other two. “No! Shoot. Where’d they wander off to?” She’d thought they’d been following her, even if at a distance.
“They’re with --” and here the calf made a throaty, warbling sound that Twilight could never hope to reproduce. “They’ll be fine.”
“Ah. Right. I’ll join them, then.” Despite that logically she knew she was safe – or as safe as she could hope to be – she still didn’t like the idea of being separated from the others.
She received a grating noise in response. “This way.”
Twilight had always found herself vaguely annoyed by the draconic languages: they were such a nightmare to pronounce – really, only a gryphon could hope to manage a few words here and there – and the writing wasn’t even phonetic.
Bits and pieces of idle chatter seemed to come and go as they passed the other wyverns and crossed the undercut; unfortunately, she couldn’t work out when, exactly, a conversation had actually ended to know when she could start talking again. It was a somewhat awkward walk later, then, that she spied Quill around the far side of a massive support column. “There you are!” Twilight called out softly as she neared. From where she was it looked like Squirrel and Rainbow were nosing around at something at Quill’s feet.
“Hey Twi!” Rainbow shouted back. “Take a look!”
As she approached, leaving the teal calf to break off to the side, Twilight could make out a dull, off-white crystal of sorts, roughly the shape and size of a durian. “Is that...?”
“The sliver,” Squirrel said with a satisfied nod. “Can you verify it?”
Twilight stepped close and gave it a once-over. It looked about right – if she’d seen this on a mountainside somewhere, she’d have dismissed it as just another chunk of quartz – and it gave her a slight tingling feeling, especially about the horn. “I can check with a spell?” she half-asked, looking up at the looming Quill.
Almost as soon as Quill had nodded, Twilight turned back to the sliver.
“So whaddaya think?” Rainbow asked, stepping back to give her some space.
Squirrel shrugged. “I’m not the unicorn here.”
“Well, yeah, but... still. It looks kinda lame.”
“Seriously?” Squirrel said, side-eying her. “We come all this way and that’s what you’ve got to say? That it looks ‘kinda lame’?”
“Well, it does!” Rainbow pouted. “It doesn’t even look magical! Remember those cursed soulgems we found back in the mine? Waaay cooler.”
“They did have the decency to glow spookily, yes,” Squirrel agreed. “Maybe this thing’ll light up once Sparks does her thing?”
“Maybe,” Rainbow grumbled, still feeling put-out by the lack of showmanship. At least Quill didn’t looked offended by the request to verify it – dragons didn’t much care to have their word called into question.
Squirrel settled down on her haunches, smiling as she cast her eyes all about the undercut. Rainbow couldn’t deny it made for an uncommon sight: it was the largest collection of dragons she’d ever seen by far; lit by the uneven glow of wickerlight and set against the backdrop of the trilling and trumpeting of wyverns, to say nothing of Twilight’s own steady murmurs, it certainly made for a unique sight.
“This is just about it, isn’t it?” Squirrel said, her voice bittersweet.
Rainbow sat down heavily beside her. “Yeah. From the looks of it, Quill’s pleased enough with us just being here to give us the sliver pretty much no matter what we say, so that just means... the boring trip back to ‘Canum, I suppose.”
Squirrel shot an amused glance at Quill and Rainbow. “I’ll have to take your word about them being pleased, though it is nice to hear. Still – it’s been a heckuva month, hasn’t it.”
Rainbow thought back to everything they’d been up to since Cherry, and even the things before. “Yeah. Yeah it has.”
Of course, they still had to get back home to Equus, but once Squirrel was dropped off there’d be no reason to stay – they’d been gone more than long enough to keep Cadance happy. “Still a couple places to hit up, first.”
Squirrel hummed and gave an easy shrug. “For me, at least, it’s just Snowbound to Wanderbelle; you two’ll need to check out Calendar on your own, if you still want to – the route’s just no good for me.”
Rainbow shot a look at Twilight, who’d stopped her magicking and was busy chatting with Quill. “Dunno. Would seem kinda dumb to go there, then go east to ‘Canum, then come all the way back again when we head home.”
“Not taking the southern route?”
Rainbow shook her head. “I think Twilight wants to see some new stuff on the way back.”
“Ah.”
It wasn’t long before Twilight was waving them back over.
“All good?” Rainbow asked as she walked over and stared down at the sliver; it looked the same as before.
“Yep!” Twilight chirped, smiling excitedly as she visibly fought to stay still. “It’s perfect! No idea how we’re going to use it exactly but we can work that out later because for right now it’s perfect!”
Rainbow smiled right back. “Great! Now we just need to regale the locals with tales of our epic adventures!”
“Mmhmm,” Twilight agreed, her logbook already out and flipped through. “While this whole thing still seems fantastical, I figure if we spend a minute getting our ducks in a row, sort to speak, then we can get going.”
“I can handle the main stuff,” Rainbow said. “Might not remember everything, but it’s easy enough to lead a story.”
“I can do context,” Squirrel added. “You two spent a whole lot of time bumbling around, after all.”
“Perfect,” Twilight agreed, neatly ignoring that last bit.
As they scribbled down some notes, a small group of wyverns crept up to them, apparently likewise interested in hearing of their travels. I wonder if they get out much, Rainbow thought before dismissing herself. No – if they wanted to, they could fly the entire length of the continent.
It didn’t take too long for them to cobble something together, running the gamut from Cherry right through and back to ‘Canum. By this point they’d built up quite the audience.
“I’ll begin?” Rainbow said, noticing that Twilight was looking a little intimidated. Since she wasn’t protesting, Rainbow tried to work out the best way to start. Here begins the Journey of the Three Ponies? No, no – too lame. On the evening of the fifth of – no, still awful. “Oh, buck it,” Rainbow muttered to herself. “If I’m going to do this, I might as well do it my way.”
Rainbow straightened up and looked over her audience; seeing she had their attention, she took a deep breath. “So! Twilight and me were flying this airship around north of Cherry Point, right? Minding our own business when suddenly bam! Twilight crashes the ship!”
“I didn’t crash the ship!” Twilight said indignantly.
“You were at the helm,” Rainbow countered. “So, like, kwue-ee-dee and all that stuff.”
“I told you before that that’s not what that means.”
“Maybe some context would be helpful?” Squirrel butted in. “As in, where’s Cherry Point, why were you there and where are you even from for that matter?”
Rainbow huffed. “But that’s boring!” She turned back to the wyverns. “Twi and me are from another continent, we came over here for reasons, and Twilight crashed the ship; that’s all a different story though, and we’re doing this one.” Given the quiver of wings and shuffle of talons, Rainbow got the impression the wyverns agreed with her.
“Books have prologues,” Twilight stubbornly pointed out.
“Yeah, which nobody reads.”
“She’s right, Sparks,” Squirrel agreed. “I’ve never even heard of someone who actually reads the dang things.”
“I read the things,” Twilight muttered mutinously.
“Sure, sure – but you’re crazy, so it’s okay,” Rainbow nodded. “So where was I? Right – so Twilight here had just crashed the ship right into a cliff – a cliff full of pony-eating razor-birds and brambles! We both bailed immediately, Twi here about to fall to her doom before I heroically caught her, and I thought we were going to be okay when suddenly boom! The ship blew up into a gigantic fireball!”
“We are so dead,” Squirrel sighed quietly.
Ignoring her, Rainbow plowed on and soon got into her stride.
“So we leapt out of the canoe, sabres flashing and slicing through the endless waves of mutated thumper monsters!”
“You should’ve seen it!” Squirrel added, her voice low and dramatic. “The way the flames from all those fireballs Sparkle was casting was glinting off of the hundreds of swarming eyes and poison-dripping fangs! They were like a thousand embers flickering in the dark!”
“Yeah! So we were wading through the masses, desperately trying to the reach the deers’ stolen holy chalice when suddenly the earth opened up beneath us!”
“The rapids were pretty rough at this point,” Squirrel said, her hoof tracing a path along one of the many maps they’d laid out on the stone floor. “We weren’t certain we were going to escape at all, nevermind in good enough nick to keep going.”
“I’d patched all the major wounds,” Twilight added, still a touch hesitantly. “And, umm, was working on some tracking spells? It was hard to see the pursueing demigryphs against the clouds.”
“But that’s when we remembered the ten-sigiled glyph the deer shaman had given us for retrieving their relic!”
Rainbow paused to take a few pulls from her canteen while the other two carried on. They were somewhere in one of the mines, now – Rainbow had lost track of which – and Twilight had finally gotten into the spirit of things; admittedly, swarms of insidious, winged moss-monsters were a little weird – it was hard to be scared of plants – but she was somehow making it work.
Their audience looked to be enjoying themselves, which was great, and despite Twilight and Squirrel’s earlier mutterings didn’t seem to mind how ridiculous they were being. Sensing Twilight was about to paint herself into a corner, Rainbow wiggled a hoof to regain everyone’s attention.
“But there was a fork up ahead,” she began once all eyes were back on her. “With just a little bit of sunlight peeping outta one side.”
As fun as it was, though, all things had to end. “And then we saw it,” Rainbow said, her voice hushed.
“Hurricanum,” Twilight continued.
“At last,” Squirrel finished.
Rainbow sat back to see how things had been received: there was plenty of flexing wings, kneading claws and lilting heads; Rainbow thought she could also make out a couple of tail twitches!
Success!
Weirdly, the other two didn’t seem to see it that way. “Are... are they happy?” Squirrel whispered.
Rainbow scoffed and gave her a nudge. “Obviously! We were awesome!”
“It was rather fun, wasn’t it?” Twilight said, already packing her maps back up again. She smiled faintly as she worked. “Hopefully it’s enough for the sliver.”
“We already agreed to the terms,” Quill rumbled reproachfully, having evidently been listening. “But it was a nice story.”
“Hear that, Twi? We’re totally troubadours, now.”
“We could do another gig in Snowbound, maybe?” Squirrel added, having relaxed some. “Would help pay for the convoy.”
“I think not,” Twilight said primly. She then strode up to Quill and the sliver and slowly, carefully picked the thing up in her hooves. Seeing that Quill wasn’t protesting, she thanked him and tucked it into one of her panniers.
Pacing around to stretch her legs, Rainbow took a look outside; despite the exit being more of a whitish bloom than anything else, she figured the story couldn’t have taken much more than an hour, tops. She hurried back to the others.
“Hey – if we left now, we could get back to Shade by nightfall.” She didn’t much care for the idea of curling up in a pit again.
Squirrel, at least, seemed happy to hear it.
“But Dash!” Twilight whined. “There’s so much to learn here! So many questions to ask!”
“Yuh huh. And what’ll they cost ya to have answered?” From the looks of it, the wyverns weren’t going to give long, storied answers for free.
Twilight started to say something, but bit down on her response. “I suppose,” she finally said with an explosive sigh. “Such an odd culture,” she added, having noticed that the crowd had dispersed.
“Well, it’d be boring if we were all alike, wouldn’t it,” Squirrel said. “Wouldn’t be any point to this trip, then.”
It was still close to twenty minutes later before they were waving their goodbyes to Quill, who’d come to briefly see them off. Rainbow fluffed out her wings, a distinctly satisfied feeling filling her belly as they began their backtrack. “This was fun!”
“Novel, certainly.”
“I liked it well enough, once the dragons weren’t so scary; still have that cliff-climb to do, though.”
“We can always take the long route,” Twilight pointed out. “If it proves too difficult.”
“Lots of time to find out,” Rainbow added, glancing pointedly at the sun. “It’s not even close to noon.” They had gotten up quite early.
They carried on in relative silence, each too lost in thought to have much to say. They were passing under the very archway they’d slept under the night before when Rainbow spoke up. “Hey – you guys alright if I get in the air? I can land wherever it’s easiest to climb.” The cliffs in question were just ahead, so if they were going to do this, now was the time.
“Sure,” Squirrel said. “I don’t think your gear’s heavy enough to be a problem.”
“Shouldn’t be.”
As Rainbow swapped over her satchels, Twilight paced a few steps ahead and back out into the snow. A few snowflakes drifted lazily down, but otherwise all was clear. There was the crunching of scree behind her as Rainbow flew deftly past and quickly wheeled up into the sky.
“Time to follow, I suppose,” Squirrel said, standing a moment abreast before leading the way; conveniently, the very same path they’d made coming the day before was still there to walk.
Twilight wasn’t certain they could make the climb – she hadn’t noticed any clear paths leaving the canyon yesterday, although she hadn’t exactly been looking; nevertheless, she wasn’t looking forward to any scrambling.
Instead of fretting, she shifted her thoughts to their newfound sliver – a real, honest-to-goodness sliver! -- and just what, exactly, her next step was going to be. Sure, she had the prospective anchor now, but she still needed to work out the where and how of using it.
A problem for later, perhaps.
Rainbow could be seen circling ahead, low over the cliffs. From here, it all looked the same to Twilight, but evidently Rainbow’d spotted something.
“So does that look like good circling, or bad circling?” Squirrel asked.
“Good? I think it’s good.”
As they neared the cliff, Rainbow swooped down to fly close circles overhead. “Think you two can get up here!” she shouted down to them. “Might not even need ropes!”
Twilight glanced between Rainbow and the cliffs, but couldn’t even guess where to begin. “Squirrel?”
“Yup,” Squirrel said as she trotted through the untrodden snow and towards a spot that looked identical to every other spot. “Think we can start here.”
“That’s it!” Rainbow shouted as she worked to gain some better height. “Take your time and wave me down if you get stuck!”
Twilight hurried close to Squirrel as the mare began placing step after careful step upon little rocky protrusions and snow-covered gashes. A quick once-over told Twilight that the cliffs were probably at as much as a sixty-degree angle – difficult, but not necessarily unconquerable.
She was barely ten feet up before she began to feel like a mountain goat, her boots barely clinging to the ruts and crags Squirrel had cleared out for her, her body braced as often as not against the cliff face; unfortunately, it was a scant few creeping steps later when she nearly bumped into Squirrel’s tail. “What’s up?” she asked, not daring to lean out to try and see what was happening.
“Don’t think we can keep going,” Squirrel said, similarly unwilling to turn her head to look back at Twilight. “Ropes?”
“Alright,” Twilight said hesitantly. “But first --” her horn lit up as she strobed a light to grab Rainbow’s attention.
Rainbow immediately dropped down to hover erractically next to them. “What’s happening?”
“Need rope,” Squirrel said shortly. “Not going to be easy after this, and I don’t want us tumbling down.”
“Hold on!”
While Rainbow was busy – presumably scouting out some tie-off points – Twilight carefully untied the rope from her panniers and double-checked it for any breaks that may’ve suddenly appeared. Seeing none, she set to working out the best way to secure themselves. “Should we tie ourselves together? And where?”
“Our pannier harnesses would be best,” Squirrel said. “I’ll need you to try and do mine; should’ve done it when we were below.”
“Give me a moment,” Twilight said as she thoroughly attached her rope to herself before moving on to Squirrel’s.
“Remember you’ll need some way to eat up slack as we go.”
Twilight nodded, though Squirrel couldn’t see her. “Mmhmm. And we’re not tied together?”
Squirrel shook her head. “I could hold you if my footing was better, but here we’d just drag each other down.”
Rainbow kept close to the other two, ready to catch either of them if they fell, or at least crush them against the cliff to slow them down. They’d both been tied off to some stout-looking trees she’d found up top, and though she was plenty confident in her knots, she was still anxious about the whole thing. Maybe she shouldn’t have suggested it?
Too late now, she supposed.
They weren’t far off the top by this point, in as much as the less-than-forty-five-degree change in steepness could even be called such. It’d been something like half-an-hour, but she wasn’t worried about that – she really just hated not being able to do more than watch.
From where she was she could just make out the highest buildings in Shade, only just blued by distance; she still found herself grinning at the thought of just how close they’d been to the town this whole time. Farther to the west, she could make out the occasional silhouette of a wyvern flying off to do whatever it was that wyverns did. A quiver of movement below caught her attention; she darted down, but quickly eased off once she realized no one had fallen – things had just evened out enough for Squirrel and Twi to speed up. With a quick check to see if she’d be able to take off again – there was a bit of a plateau over there, so she should be fine – she circled low and landed in a spray of snow near the anchor tree.
“All good?” she called out.
“Yup,” Squirrel said as she clambered over, Twilight close in tow. “How’s it after this?”
“Easier, I think,” Rainbow said, stepping over to check on Twilight while Squirrel undid their knots. “You good?”
Twilight nodded, a pleased smiling adorning her muzzle. “Tired, but yes.” She stamped her hooves, shivering in excitement. “That was tense! I can’t wait to never ever do it again!”
“Well, since technically you’ll be going down on the next bit, that might come true?”
“I’m pretty sure that makes it harder,” Twilight said as she detached her rope.
Rainbow gave her a friendly shoulder-bump. “We’ll be fiiine.”
The canyon top was anything but smooth – Twilight wouldn’t have been surprised if there wasn’t a single flat spot on it. She and Squirrel were utterly dependant on Rainbow for directions, being unable to see more than a hoofful of metres in any direction before the horizon was lost in a sea of crests and troughs.
A quick look at the sky suggested they weren’t far off noon. “Going really has been slow, hasn’t it,” Twilight said. “Lunch?”
“Sure.”
“Sounds good.”
They settled down on the nearest vaguely-clear surface they could find, panniers doffed and rooted through. Twilight grimaced as she took a pull from her canteen. “Hate how cold this gets,” she said with distaste.
“Almost back,” Squirrel reminded her. “Won’t be like this anywhere else.”
That it shouldn’t: after this it was just convoys til ‘Canum, then whatever it took to get back home again. There were still a few brief stopovers she hoped to hit along the way, but that was a plan for another day.
Minutes passed in companionable silence, bar the munching of oatbars and peachy things. Soon enough, it was time to get going.
The landscape changed little, with only shrubby bushes and leafless trees to mark the distance. It wasn’t until they’d gone an hour further that they could make out the distance plumes of chimney smoke, drifting lazily over Shade.
“You know,” Twilight mused as she stared off towards the idyllic, wintery sight. “I never did ask anyone about the name.”
“Hmm?” Squirrel shot her a questioning look. “You mean the town?”
“Yeah – hyphenated names aren’t exactly common.”
Squirrel shrugged. “Changelings are peculiar, remember? Anyways, I think the name’s based on the town’s history. Can’t recall how, exactly, but I’m pretty sure the ‘down’ is feathers.”
Twilight hummed in response. “If we have time, I’ll ask.”
The cliff down wasn’t nearly as steep as the one they’d taken up; at least, according to Rainbow – near as Twilight could tell, it was virtually vertical.
“You’ll be fine!” Rainbow insisted from where she stood, right at the very edge. “You’re all tied off, we’ve worked out a path and everything, and plus, it’s nothing but snow drifts below! It’d be like landing on a pillow!”
That didn’t help. “Okay,” Twilight said, taking care to take slow, deep breaths. “Okay. Do I – should I go first?”
“No,” Squirrel said immediately. “Stay close behind me – I’ll clear a path so you’ll see all the hoof-holds; if you think you might slip, just, I don’t know, yelp or something – I can try and brace.”
“Yelp. Right.” Privately, Twilight had a feeling that if she did slip, she’d be too terrified to even breath, no nevermind say something.
Squirrel started towards what she’d insisted was a path. “Let’s go.”
The way down was stressful, to say the least. Twilight spent the entire time with her flanks brushing and scraping against the hoary cliff, her legs sore from how much she’d wedged them into whatever notch or crenel they were on.
The end couldn’t come soon enough; once Squirrel had hopped down the last few feet, Twilight followed close behind, her legs sinking through the crunchy snow right up to the barrel. Faint laughter drifted down from above.
“You’re not stuck, are you?” Rainbow giggled as she flew in a tight loop over their heads. “Could maybe pull you out by the rope?”
“Oh shush,” Twilight grumbled as she wriggled her way towards the nearest boulder. “If you really want to be helpful, go untie us.”
“Sure thing, boss,” Rainbow chuckled as she sped away.
Twilight clambered out of the snowdrift right alongside Squirrel, the pair of them shaking the snow off of themselves while they waited for Rainbow to return.
“Almost there,” Squirrel said as she stamped her hooves hard, sending whorls of dusty snow flying off. “Can’t wait to curl up in front of the fire.”
“Mmhmm,” Twilight agreed. “Wonder if they have anywhere we could have dinner at?”
“Oh, the inn’ll definitely have something, banquet or not.”
A pair of thwumping noises drew their attention back to the cliff just in time to see the other end of their ropes flop into the snow. It didn’t take long to get these coiled up and stored again, a process only slightly delayed by Rainbow’s landing kicking up an ungodly amount of snow.
“It’s just over there!” Rainbow said excitedly, pointing a wing towards a snow drift that looked like every other one in sight. “Doubt it’s even an hour!”
Squirrel visibly perked up. “Really? Shoot! Heckuva shortcut, then – I thought it’d be a few more at least.”
“Nope!”
And it really was just an hour later that they stumbled back onto the very same path they’d taken out of the town the day before, their hoofprints still visible in the snow. “Well, that’s nice,” Twilight said as she spied the airdocks. “Our ship’s still there.” It’d only been a day, but a small part of her had been worried they’d up and left.
“We should sort that out first,” Squirrel said. “Before we get back to the inn.”
As they reentered the town, everything looked just the same as when they’d left it: deeply-cut, wood-floored walkways ran the length and height of the hill, with the occasional heavily-clothed changeling passing by to shoot them a curious glance; the muffled sounds of laughter accompanying the clanging of hammers and working of saws; even the odd curse was heard whenever they slipped on the icy platform underhoof.
“You’d think they’d have something grippy on this,” Twilight grumbled as she once again straightened back up, thankful that this time, at least, she’d managed to keep from falling over wholesale. “Knurled metal, maybe.”
“Sounds expensive,” Squirrel said.
“Rubber, then?”
“We’re a bit far from the coast.”
Twilight sighed. “Maybe the locals just have studded boots on.”
They stopped briefly at the airdocks, but the sailors were absent – unsurprising given the midday hour. “We’ll have to check back later,” Twilight said.
“I’ll fly past in a few hours,” Rainbow volunteered. “Easier that way.”
The upper alcove, too, looked just the same, though this time with a small group of ‘lings seated and chatting around a softly-crackling central fire. While a part of Twilight wanted to immediately go and complain to Tern about how danged elusive she’d been, the rest of her just wanted to get to their room and give the sliver a proper inspection.
It was Squirrel, though, that barely broke stride as she led them across to the inn. “Let’s get settled back in before we get up to anything else, shall we?”
Evening came fast.
Twilight curled up tighter on her duvet, the sliver resting on her pillow, while Squirrel and Rainbow chatted. After getting their room, the other two had convinced her to have another walk-around; she’d expected she’d have hated the idea, but with the sliver well in hoof, she’d found she hadn’t minded.
The argument with Tern had turned out more light-hearted than she’d expected, too, although coming back successful undoubtably had something to do with that.
They were leaving tomorrow – it was a stroke of luck, but it turned out the two sailors that’d taken them here were leaving earlier than they’d thought. From where Twilight was sitting, it really did look like they’d be back in Hurricanum in less than a week.
With that happy thought in mind, she shook herself lightly and tried to get caught back up in the conversation.
They’d passed through Snowbound with nary a fuss – bar a single night spent waiting for the next convoy, in as much a trio of light carriers counted as one, they were in and out. So it was that they soon found themselves flying high over the Myr river, westbound to Wanderbelle.
“I still say this is nice,” Rainbow said from where they were lounging on the aft deck. “Not having to work the whole dang flight.” She still wasn’t as free to fly around as she’d hoped – there were way too many ropes and wires on the two-masted ship – but the crew were pretty chill; add to that that the other passengers were fun to talk to, and that there were plenty of card- and boardgames tucked around the galley, she was finding the trip easy enough to survive.
“Mmhmm,” Twilight agreed. “You know, I didn’t disagree with you the last two times you said it, either.”
Squirrel, meanwhile, was busy staring off the side, a wide grin on her face. Every so often she’d wave to get their attention before pointing out some mine or cabin or some such and tell them about what it’s for, or go off on some short story about her own travels about the area. It was clear she was looking forward to coming home more than they’d thought.
Rainbow shrugged. “Still feel like sayin’ it. But, umm, on that note, what’re we doing next, anyways? ‘Cause if the keening puppy next to us is right, she’ll be sleeping in her own, dusty bed by nightfall.” They’d been putting off this discussion for too long, by Rainbow’s tastes.
“Well it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Squirrel said, half swiveling around to face them. “You two need to wrap things up in ‘Canum before you head back west, so it’s back to ‘Canum you need to go.”
“I was hoping to check out Calendar first,” Twilight said uncertainly. “But I suppose that’s further to the west, isn’t it.”
Squirrel nodded. “Would add at least another day to your trip; could just wait and check it out on your way home? Rainbow here said you didn’t want to take the route over Chestnut again.”
“I’d hoped to see more of the continent,” Twilight agreed. “Dash?”
“Hmm?” Rainbow shrugged. “I don’t mind either way; does make sense to just do it on the way back, though – would seem kinda dumb to check out the city, go back to ‘Canum, then fly back over the city again a few days later.” Not least of which because Twilight would probably want to check it out a second time, too.
“It’s probably best to just go straight back to Hurricanum, then,” Twilight said. “We can wrap up our affairs there for a day or two, then head back home.”
“And you two’ll be fine on the convoys by yourselves?” Squirrel asked, clearly trying to keep the doubt out of her voice as she did.
“Easy peasy,” Rainbow said, waving off her concerns. “We’ve done it enough times by now, haven’t we? Besides, once we hit the coast it’s less ‘trade convoys’ and more ‘countless ships going everywhere all the time,’ isn’t it?”
“Dash is right – we’ll be okay, Squirrel.”
“I suppose...”
Little more was said as they all turned to quietly watch the scenery go by. The canyon walls that straddled most of the Myr had become increasingly high throughout the morning – by Rainbow’s estimate they were cruising well over a hundred metres up, having risen to keep above the canyon where the winds were more favourable.
The cliffs passing steadily below were becoming dotted ever more frequently with terraced mining centres and adits, while little fishing communities ran freely along the narrow, rocky riverside below; Rainbow couldn’t deny the prettiness of it all, despite how horribly cramped it looked.
The next couple of hours passed quickly as a palpable sense of anticipation fell over the group. Twilight felt the eagerness herself – this whole mess was almost over! -- but couldn’t help but feel bittersweet about the whole thing: after all they’d gone through since meeting Squirrel, she was going to miss her, not least because they wouldn’t even be able to keep in touch afterwards.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything to be done about that.
“Hey!” Squirrel shouted excitedly. “There it is!”
Twilight leaned as far over the side as she was comfortable. “I don’t see anything.” Everything still looked the same as it had for hours now.
“There’s some more buildings there I think?” Rainbow added. “Maybe?”
Squirrel clucked her tongue. “Well, fine – you’ll see in a moment.”
It took a little while yet before Twilight could make out a change, as more and more buildings started to appear, both wide, tall things that couldn’t have been more than a few metres deep, and low, sprawling ones that surely must’ve been built into hidden undercuts. Rails, as often built up on piles as cleared rock, ran on every level, with even a few running over bridges left and right. The air looked dusty, and even from up here Twilight could make out a metallic tang to it.
“Well,” Twilight eventually managed to say. “It certainly looks... busy.”
“Nice,” Rainbow chuffed. “’Busy.’”
“It does!” The town proper was starting to come into view, built into a wider, semi-circular area where the Myr branched in twain, with one stream continuing west, while the other cut loosely south. Like everywhere else it was built up in tiers, but here the lowest few spread out on multi-storied scaffolds out and over the river to be met by landings on the far sides. Twilight could just make out barges on the southern path. “It must see quite a bit of trade.”
“Yep!” Squirrel turned to grin at them before spinning back to revel in the view. “Always new people flowing in and out! There aren’t many of us that live here full-time, especially now that a lot of the mining has run out or moved to easier veins.”
“Happy to be home, then?” Twilight added tentatively.
Squirrel was silent for a moment, her tail flicking contemplatively. “Yes. I am. I’m not really all the far away from Snowbound; really, I should just visit the folks more often.”
They were quiet again as their ship slowed and dropped altitude, aiming for one of the airdocks built into the cliffs. “So this is it, isn’t it?”
Squirrel turned around fully to face them. “Yeah,” she said, a soft smile growing on her muzzle. “It is. It’s been a fun few weeks, hasn’t it?”
“An adventurous one, for sure.”
“Especially getting lost in that swamp,” Rainbow said with a cheshire grin. “Reeeal adventurous.”
“Oh shush,” Squirrel chuckled. “At least I didn’t charge you, in the end.”
“Which was quite generous of you, Squirrel,” Twilight added hastily, shooting Rainbow a look. “I’m sure we’re both grateful.”
Rainbow shrugged easily. “It’s been fun.”
“Yeah,” Squirrel agreed. “It has.”
