Stuff to be pre read

by Goldenarbiter

Rating: everyone
Tags: Tragedy, Random, Dark, Sad, Romance, Comedy
Length: 20466

read the title

I am not to upload this I am not to upload this I am not to upload this I am not to upload this I am not to upload this I am not to upload this I am not to upload this I am not to upload this I am not to upload this I am not to upload this I am not to upload this I am not to upload this

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-12-05 22:58:49 UTC

F19: Chapter 15 fimfiction edition

Comparison chapter: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1n1xokD4wieKg1fyopsCDR9503hgmniBwbPyjdhbZRBg/edit

Chapter 15: The Widening Gyre

The chill wind of early morning bit into Stivers’ cheeks as they emerged from the cavern entrance.  The combination of cold and early morning sunlight was enough to wake you up in one hell of a hurry, and he scrambled to pull the hood of the patchwork cloak up over his head.  “Damn, that’s cold!”

“Dawn in the mountains.” Sword agreed.  The pony shivered slightly beside him as he adjusted his own cloak.  “Personally, I’d rather be snoozing on a hillside outside Canterlot.”  Exhaling a puff of white vapor in the chilly air, he moved to one side to clear the entranceway for the others.  “Even the desert would be something of an improvement.  I hate the cold.” he groused.

Stivers moved over to stand beside him and the two watched as the rest of their troop filed out, blinking owlishly in the morning sun.  Stivers knew every one of them by sight now, but still, out of habit, he counted off to himself as each one emerged and moved together in a loose group, grumbling about the early morning reveille in time-honored military tradition.  One particular shape caught his eye, and he glanced over at Sword, leaning close and lowering his voice.  “Are you sure about this?”

“No, but I really don’t see how we have much of an option.”  Sword sighed as he watched William’s diminutive form join the others.  “It’s fairly obvious he’s been here before, and we know of at least one group of locals who don’t exactly look on him with a kindly eye.  We leave him here, he’s liable to be beaten at the very least, or sold at auction at one of the markets.”

“Sold?”  The distaste was obvious in Stivers’ voice.  “I didn’t know the people in this land went in for slavery.”

“We’re not in Equestria anymore, Captain.”  Sword looked away and spat.  “I’ve no more relish for the idea than you do, but it’s the way of the land, here.  Again, that’s why he’s still with us.”  The pony shrugged.  “He presents more problems than I’d like, but I can’t just leave the lad here.  From what the sergeant said, he probably would have ended up getting caught and killed had we left him behind.”

“In that case, you got no argument from me.  I’ll tell Gruebel to watch out for him.  Don’t want him wandering off and getting eaten or something while we’re on the trail,” Stivers said, laughing.

“I don’t want any one of us getting chewed on, either.  Make sure they keep close order march today.”  Sword moved off toward Taylor, who was fussing with one of his packstrapts.  “And no, I’m not joking.”

Stivers watched him go, the grin fading from his face.  “Camping next to Lake Waccamaw this sure as hell ain’t,” he grumbled.  “Gallivan!  Gruebel!  Get over here for a minute.”

Sword set a deceptively easy pace, the same one he had held to after they had been forced to abandon the aircraft and head out cross-country.  The well-traveled road through the mountains was much easier terrain to walk on, despite the steady upward slope.  It took William no little amount of trouble to match their pace; the gryphon had no shortage of willpower, but the poor fellow had legs half again as short as anypony else’s in the party.  It was all Taylor could do to keep from laughing at him as he struggled to keep up for the first few hours.  Several times he had started to offer words of encouragement to the little featherbrain, but Gallivan had advised him against it.  “Notice how he ain’t complainin’ a bit, sir?  He’ll tough it out.  If you say anything to him, it’ll just piss him off.”

The sergeant was marching at the same pace, with a fully loaded pack on his back, and hadn’t so much as wheezed all morning, much to Taylor’s annoyance.  When they had started, the lieutenant had been looking around idly, admiring the way the mountainsides gleamed in the sunlight above where the treeline ended.  Two hours later into the march and Taylor was more intent on watching his boots move one ahead of the other, and sneaking a glance up ahead occasionally to see if Sword or Stivers looked like they were going to call a halt.

I’m a pilot.  I get paid to sit on my ass and drive a bomber around the sky, not this ground-pounding shit.“Well, I don’t want him to fall over on us or something,” Taylor puffed.

 “Yes sir, I hear you.”  Gallivan glanced idly at Taylor’s red face for a moment.  “How you holdin’ up, sir?”

“I’m doin’ fine,” Taylor said, more rapidly than he wanted to.  “Legs were sore right when we started, but I’m fine now, I can go all day if we need to.”

Gallivan grinned.  “That’s what he’s sayin’ too, sir, just not out loud, if you get me.  He’ll be fine.”

And he was fine, surprisingly enough.  By the time they stopped for a breather to eat lunch (and that was Golden Sword in a nutshell, Taylor thought; waiting until lunchtime to work in a rest break was just the kind of efficiency that pony loved), the little gryphon seemed to have little trouble keeping abreast of them, although he did ask Sword once why they didn’t just fly instead.

“Because only half of us have wings,” the pegasus had replied.  “And we still have a long way to go yet.”

“Oh really, ey?  An’ where are we goin’, if ye don’ mind me askin’?”

“The monastery in the Shadow Whisper Mountains,” Sword said patiently.

“Yah, I remember ya sayin’ d’at much to that moke back a’ th’ pass.”  William picked up a small rock in one claw and flung it ahead of them, watching it bounce and clatter across the rocks off to one side.  “Wha’ I mean is, which one, yah know?”

Sword was about to give the little nuisance a lecture on noise discipline when the full import of the question struck him.  “What do you mean, ‘which one?’”

“Which monastery?  D’ere’s f’er er five up in those peaks, I wagger.” the gryphon said absently.  “They always go up d’ere to do d’eir prayin’ and what not.  Which one they go to depends on what d’ey’re  prayin’ for.  Which one you headed to?”

“I have no idea,” the stallion admitted after a long moment of silence.  “I wasn’t aware there were multiple sites.”

“Hah!  Figured as much, ey.  Yer only ponies after all.”  William shrugged.  “Doesn’t ma’er to me, one’s as good as th’ other.  I figure I can get a bagful o’ stories regardless which you go to.  An’ since you ‘ave no idea which one ya need, we can hit ‘em all up, an’ I can get bucket loads o’ good tales.”

“We did not travel this far from home to indulge you in a story gathering spree,” Sword snapped testily.  “Once we find the place we’re looking for, you can go hound the monks to your heart’s content.  And if you don’t like the pace I set, feel free to fly wherever you want.  I just brought you with us so those cretins back in Clawttowa didn’t dissect you out of spite.”

William looked up in surprise and grinned.  “Huh. An’ here I thought yah didn’ like me!”

“I don’t.” Sword said, and stalked away.

The size and scale of the mountain terrain was breathtakingly beautiful to both the ponies and the humans, most of whom had never even seen a landscape like the one they now traveled through except in pictures.  Taylor was the lone exception, and likened it to the terrain in Alaska.  William the gryphon, who had grown up here, barely even gave the high peaks a second glance; the youngster spent most of his time avoiding the officers and mingling with the troops themselves.  His oddly warbling voice could be heard from time to time regaling them with one song or another, or one of the strange tales of gryphonic lore he had picked up.  Both Shining Star and Gallivan found these fascinating and would while away the time listening to the young gryphon and then asking him a flurry of questions about each tale or song.  Star was naturally curious about almost anything, and soaked up the information eagerly, always asking penetrating questions about who did what and why regarding half-mythical events that had happened centuries ago.  Gallivan, on the other hand, seemed to find some surcease in the lore itself; the big Marine would often repeat parts of the tales back to William to make sure he had it memorized correctly, and he and the gryphon would enter into impromptu quizzing sessions about some obscure element from the distant past.  The others found it somewhat odd that the big man took so much interest in the subject, but nopony could deny that it seemed to ease the sergeant’s mind somewhat.  His sleep was unbroken and solid, and whatever demons from his past that laid there waiting had been defanged, at least for now.

The impressive vistas before them soon began to become somewhat monotonous as they continued to journey further south.  As William mentioned during one break, one mountain pretty much looks like another, and the others found it hard to disagree.  There was very little foot traffic on the road they were on, mostly traders traveling to and from Clawttowa with wagons loaded with goods of one type or another.  These took only minor interest in the odd group of ponies and humans, and that quickly melted away when the group showed no signs of purchasing anything.

Five days after they had left the trading center of Clawttowa, they finally struck the branch path that was indicated on the map.  Leaving the main road, they began following the new trail, which headed off toward the southeast.  The path was not as well tended here, and the ground about them rose and fell sharply.  The main road was quickly lost to sight as the timber growth on the lower slopes of the mountains made an appearance, and they soon seemed to be traveling along a path lined with wooden sentinels, evergreen trees that seemed to be mostly fir and some other odd kind of growth that the humans were unable to identify.

Thompson picked up a fallen bough of the strange wood as they walked and flexed it for a moment.  “What the heck is this stuff?  It’s almost like pine, but the bark is just...weird.”

“Oh, tha’s spiritwood.  It grows on all d’e mountains ‘round ‘ere.”  William looked at the trees beside them with a blatant lack of interest.  “Smells funny in springtime too.”

“Spiritwood?  What the hell is that?”  Gruebel looked at the trees with sudden suspicion.  “These things aren’t gonna jump up out of the ground and eat me for usin’ em for firewood or something, are they?”

William stared at him as if he’d gone mad.  “Uh... no.  They are... just trees.  You know, wood, nee’les, cones.  Chop em down, build houses an’ wagons with ‘em.”  He shrugged.  “I’s just a name, ey. Dunno why d’ey’re called that.”

“Well, since the local flora is decidedly not dangerous, let’s gather up some of it before we lose all the light.”  Sword glanced up at the lowering sun.  “This is as good a place as any to make camp for the evening.”

The routine was well established enough at this point that the pegasus didn’t have to say another word.  Moving off to one side of the path, the enlisted troops began clearing away the ground in a reasonably open spot, sweeping aside large patches of dead needles and gathering up the scattered branches and other detritus.  Sword and the other officers fanned out, gathering up larger branches and chunks of wood as they found them to keep the fire going throughout the night; they had resolved to try and use any dead wood they found along the way and save the fuel they had gathered prior to entering the mountains for an emergency.

Midnight followed Taylor upslope away from the camping site, picking up the smaller branches that she was able to manage and poking them through one of the loosened straps of her pack.  The pilot ranged on ahead and gathered up the larger or unwieldy pieces, stacking them loosely in the crook of one arm.  They foraged ahead for several minutes, the stillness of the forest around them broken only by the sighing of the wind through the treetops and the occasional snatch of conversation from the others from below and behind them.

“Whoop, look out, you’ve got one running away from you.”  Midnight called out to the pilot.  One of the branches under Taylor’s arm had twisted and slipped down, threatening to snag on his trousers and trip him up.

“Oh, thanks.”  Taylor stopped and readjusted the armload of wood he was carrying and then resumed walking uphill.

Midnight looked after him for a moment, frowning.  Ever since the group had entered the mountains, the pilot had seemed out of sorts and pensive, his normally constant running commentary of chatter absent.  Admittedly, she found some of his jokes a bit childish at times, and annoying on occasion, but the human was invariably a fount of good cheer, albeit inane on occasion.  It obviously grated on Golden Sword when Taylor refused to take something seriously, but Midnight had gotten used to it at this point and found it provided a welcome break from the normal stress of duty.  It was, in its own way, somewhat endearing to her, and she found its absence to be more than a little unsettling.

“How are you feeling?  I don’t know about you, but I’m definitely ready to sit down for the day.  My hooves are killing me.”  Midnight stopped and shook one foreleg in the air for emphasis.

“Hmm?”  Taylor turned and glanced at her for a moment.  “Sorry, I was woolgathering there.”

“I was just asking how you were feeling.”  Midnight braced her hind legs and stretched out, feeling her spine pop.  “Oooh, that’s better.  I think this whole walking all day thing is better left to the earth ponies.  Me, I’d rather be flying.”

“Mmhmm.”  The human made a noncommittal sound and kept walking up the hill, picking up another branch and tucking it under his arm.  To Midnight’s eye, it looked like he had quite enough already, but he kept on going, peering about.  “I guess so.”

Midnight suppressed a growl of exasperation and trotted up the slope until she stood next to him.  “Hey, are you okay?  Really?”

To her surprise, he jerked as if he’d been prodded with a red-hot poker.  “Everybody keeps asking me that, and I keep telling everybody I’m fine.  Christ.”   He kicked a fir cone viciously with one boot, sending it flying off into the gloaming.

The pegasus flinched involuntarily at that.  “Taylor... I know it’s tough, being grounded and everything.”

“What?”  Taylor stopped hunting for another cone to kick and glanced down at her.  “What are you talking about?”

She drew in a deep breath and plunged ahead.  “Not being able to fly, having to adapt to all this ground work... I’m aware it’s not exactly what you trained for or are especially fond of.”  She craned her head back and loosened one of the straps of her pack, shrugging out of it and dropping it to the ground.  “I’m not just a pony, I’m a pegasus.  I love the sky, and flying.  There’s a degree of control to it... you don’t think about it, you just tuck a wing and you go where you want.  Even if you’re flying formation, you’re the one in charge of staying where you’re at, so you slow down or speed up, twitch your tail a bit to stay in line...well, I know you don’t, but you know what I mean.”  She looked up and regarded the human with a kind eye.  “You’re in control of it all when you’re up there in the sky.  Except we’re not in the sky now, are we?”

Taylor just stood there for a moment, looking at her with a curious expression on his features.  “Yeah, you’re right about that, I guess.”  He glanced around for a moment, then crouched down and set the bundle of brush and branches on the soft loamy carpet of needles underfoot.  “I hadn’t actually thought about it, to be honest.”   He rubbed his left arm where the wood had been pinching him and looked at her with a wry smile.  “Are you psychoanalyzing me, now?”

“No, you big sod, I was checking to see how you were because I was worried,” she replied, a bit testily.  “If it’s an imposition I’ll just be quiet and leave you alone if you want.”

He simply stood there for a moment, studying her features.  “Point taken,” he said at last.  “Yeah, you’re right... and to be honest, I hadn’t thought about it, but it does bother me, a bit.”  He glanced upward at the darkening sky visible through the treetops, watching a few faint stars begin to appear.  “Not much I can do about it though, I’ll get over it.  Hell, I think I’m actually getting used to walking all day.  Not that it’s become my favorite choice for relaxing in those dull moments when we’re not being attacked by man-eating monsters.”

Midnight smiled a bit; that, at least, sounded more like Taylor’s normal self.  “I can think of better things to do in my off moments.”

“Yeah, I noticed that, actually.”  Taylor knelt down, wincing as his knees popped, and began picking up the wood again, stacking it more carefully in the crook of his left arm.  “I keep seeing you writing off and on while we’re in camp.  Is Sword making you keep track of how many ounces of oats we eat every day or something?”

“No, he’s not really that bad about supplies.”  Midnight made a mental note to not mention the idea to Golden Sword; he might actually find it attractive.   “No, that’s just my own thing.  I write in it now and again when we have a spare moment to rest.”

Taylor chuckled softly as he continued to pick up the branches.  “Methinks I hear a diarist in our midst.  Been writing down your thoughts about this insane trip of ours?”

“Well... sort of.  I mean, not exactly.”  She began blushing madly.  “It’s... well, it’s sort of a journal, yes, but it’s not exactly just for me.”

The human nearly dropped one of the branches and cursed loudly, shaking his hand.  “Goddam it, I need that knuckle.”  He picked the wood back up and smacked it into place on top of the pile, wincing.  “So, who are you writing for, posterity?  Or are you going to turn it into a story you can tell back home?”  Taylor laughed.  “Maybe you can squeeze William for some of that cash of his and let him buy the rights to tell it around here.”

“Uh, not exactly.”  Letting the little gryphon set his eyes on her journal was the last  thing Midnight would do.  “It’s... well, I’m kind of keeping track of things.  So that when we get back home, somepony can read about it.  About what happened, and how I felt about everything.”  She glanced up timidly at Taylor as he stood back up.  “I was actually kind of hoping to find out what you thought about it... you know, if you’d like to read a little bit?  Maybe?”

Taylor glanced at her and stopped fussing with the wood; it was the same odd tone of voice he’d heard from her before when the gryphon had been hawking his jewelry at the ponies.  “Um.  Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m guessing this particular pony is not exactly just somebody who lives next door or anything.”

Midnight was thankful for the descending dusk, for it mostly hid the bright flush under the fur of her cheeks.  “That’s right.  It’s for somepony I really care about.  My very special somepony.”  Oh sweet Celestia, I can’t believe I came out and said it!

He smiled suddenly, the gloomy expression on his face vanishing with startling rapidity.  “Holy crap, I had no idea you were seeing someone.  Why didn’t you say anything about it before?”

“Well, it was kind of sudden... it all really came together right before we left home.”  She smiled hesitantly at him.  “We really didn’t have a lot of time together, so I thought of this as a kind of way to keep in touch, you know?  Even if I can’t send the letters anywhere, it’s a way of reaching out—”

“—and talking to them all the same.”  Taylor nodded.  “Midnight, I’ve written more than a few of those while I was at sea during the war.  The censors mark out all the vital stuff, but still you can try and let them know what you feel like.”  He leaned back against a nearby tree, the bundle of firewood all but forgotten under his arm.  “So who is he?  Do I know him?”

She laughed reflexively.  “Know, yes, but it’s not a he, silly.  It’s a she.  Miss Fluttershy.”  The relief swept through her, draining through her body and seeming to flow down her legs and out of her, leaving her feeling light as air.  She suddenly felt as if she could jump and soar over the treetops without using her wings.  There, I said it out loud, he knows, the world knows, everyone knows now.

Taylor simply stood there, looking at her with a quizzical expression on his face, a small line furrowed between his eyebrows.  “She?  What about her?”

“She’s my very special somepony.  I just... oh gods, Taylor, you know, there’s no words for how I feel around her.”  That small, panicked voice that normally spoke up in Midnight’s brain at times like this just sat back, stunned at the words that had finally found the place to pour forth.  “She’s the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.  If... when we make it back, I’m going to ask her for sure.”

The human was still standing there motionless, that odd look still on his face.  “Wait, she’s the yellow one that yelled at me when we first met, right?”

“Well, yes, but you did shoot her friend the bear,” Midnight said.  The laughter in her voice trailed away as she looked at him.  “Taylor, I’m sure she’s not still mad at you about it.  You were trying to defend yourself after all.”

Taylor began waving his hand at her as if trying to flag down a taxi on a busy street.  “Whoa whoa there, Nellie.  You can’t hook up with her.”

“Why not?”  Was there something that Fluttershy hadn’t told her?  If so, how had Taylor found out?  Midnight’s ears drooped backward as she looked at him.  “I mean, I talked to her about it, and everything, before we left.  Right before we left, I know, and I was in a hurry and we didn’t talk long, but—”

“Midnight, what the hell’s wrong with you?  You can’t marry her.  She’s... well, she’s female.”  Taylor was looking at her as if she’d grown a second head.  “It’s kind of hard to have kids and have a family when you’re both lugging around the same set of equipment.”

The pegasus stared at him, her jaw agape.  The lightweight, floating feeling she had been feeling moments before had been replaced by a tingling numbness in all of her limbs.  “What... how can you say that?  What has that got to do with anything?”

“Last time I checked, that was the whole point of falling in love and getting married.  Unless I didn’t get the latest fleet bulletin on romance and—”

“Don’t you daremake a joke out of this!” Midnight yelled at him, the sound echoing around them and flying back from the rocks and trees hidden in the darkness.  “If you don’t understand, fine.  If you don’t like it, fine.  But I only told you about it because I trusted you, Taylor, so don’t you dare laugh at me!”

Taylor looked at her for a moment, and then threw the armload of wood to one side.  Midnight jerked backward reflexively at the movement, the branches clattering against each other as they tumbled away  “Oh, talk about humor, now that statement is as funny as shit.”  He folded his arms and glared at her.  “Since when am I suddenly your bosom confidante?”

Midnight shook her head, her eyes wide as she took a step backward.  “What?  I don’t—”

“Oh, don’t give me that ‘I don’t understand you, I’m just a pony’ shit.  Not after that big lecture from Golden Sword about what a cancer we are from just being here.  I got dragged here against my will and suddenly I’m as welcome as the fucking bubonic plague just because I’m drawing breath.”  Taylor gritted his teeth.  “I’m sick to death of being told how much I’m not wanted around here when all I want to do is get back home before some critter with six tails and four mouths eats my ass.  And don’t tell me how much you trust me when I damn well know better.  Hell, you told me yourself.  ‘Taylor, I’d lie to you with a smile if I thought you were a threat to my home,’” he mimicked savagely, his voice rising to a wavering falsetto.

She stood still for a moment, until the words clicked into place in her memory.  “Wait, that?”  Midnight stared at him, astounded.  “I didn’t mean you!  I was talking about William!  I felt sorry for him, but I didn’t trust him!  I wasn’t talking about you.  I never meant I didn’t trust you.”

“And I’m supposed to just believe that?”  Taylor snorted and uncrossed his arms, flapping them at her dismissively as he bent and began to pick up the wood once more.  “Piss on it.  I don’t care anymore.  Maybe Thompson was right back in Canterlot.  Maybe this is all just some damned setup.  All I know is I’m gonna watch out for myself and to hell with the rest of the world.”

Midnight watched him in silence as he picked up the scattered brush piece by piece from where he had thrown it in anger.  His words tumbled and spun inside her head, and she tried desperately to think of something, anything, to refute the horrible statement he had made.  Everything she could think of came up empty, however... just words, more words, meaningless ones like the ones she had tossed off carelessly that had started this whole mess.  Harmless in of themselves, they had turned on the man before her and somehow been twisted into poison.  His image doubled, then tripled in her vision as her eyes filled with tears.

“Of course I trust you,” she said in a low voice.  “You’re the only friend I have.”  Choking back a sob, she lunged forward and seized her pack, slinging around one shoulder and turning to plunge blindly back down the hill toward the camp.

Taylor stopped and watched her flee, the golden sheen of her armor winking in and out of sight in the dim light before vanishing from view.  He crouched where he was for a moment, then stood up and looked at the handful of wood he carried in one arm.  One of the smaller branches had a fir cone still attached to it, and he reached up and plucked it off carefully, holding the fragile construction in one palm.

“Well, that’s just great,” he muttered, and flung it into the night.

Gruebel had just gotten the fire pit cleaned out to his satisfaction, an uneven row of rocks surrounding it to keep the damned thing from spreading out and setting the whole forest on fire.  He was busy arranging the small bundle of kindling when the shouting from further up the slope had begun.

“What the hell is that?”  He stood up, peering through the trees in the fading light, but was unable to see anything.

“Sounds like Th’ Lady is rather pissed aboot somet’in’.” William said.  The gryphon had not bothered to join the others in going to gather wood or setting up the camp, and merely stood to one side, preening his wing feathers and looking incredibly bored.

“Yeah, I know.”  Gruebel couldn’t make out the words themselves, but the breeze brought him enough of the noise to know that it was not a cry of distress or pain; someone was catching some serious heat.  “Who the hell is she—”

Another, lower, heavier shout drifted back down to them, and Grubel immediately bent back to his work again, stripping the small branches and twigs and piling them up neatly in the center of the pit.  “Okay, never mind.”

“Ey, d’at sounds like ‘er buddy, th’ tall fella,” William opined.  “Wha’s goin’ on, ey?”

“Don’t know, don’t wanna know.”  Gruebel tossed a branch to one side for later use.  “Never get into the middle of somebody else’s argument.  Especially when they’re both brass-hats.”  He stood up and brushed the dirt off of the knees of his coveralls and grimaced.  “Christ, they’re really goin’ at it.  Everything within five miles of here is gonna hear that shit.”

Gallivan and Thompson appeared, the latter carrying several of the small, oddly shaped canteens that the ponies used for storing water.  “What the heck is that ruckus about?” asked the sergeant.  “We can hear it clear down to the stream down there.”

“I dunno, but the skipper’s gonna shit nickels if they don’t pipe down soon,” Gruebel growled.  “I—”  He broke off as Midnight trotted into the small clearing, her pack askew over one shoulder.  Several small branches were secured in the other loop of the sturdy bag, dragging behind her as she stalked toward them.  The Marines immediately busied themselves with unpacking the gear and finishing the setup of camp, setting out the satchels of food to one side and unfolding their bedrolls.  Only William watched, intrigued, as Midnight walked over to where Gruebel still stood by the fire pit.

“Here’s a bit of wood to get you started,” she said in an unsteady voice.  She paused and cleared her throat, then continued in a stronger tone.  “Taylor should be along shortly with a larger load.  If he doesn’t drop it on the way down the hill.”

“Thanks, Ell-Tee,” Gruebel replied neutrally.  “This is fine to start with.”  He untangled her pack strap from the wood and pushed the tinder to one side, handing her pack back.  “I’ll get the fire goin’ in no time.”

“Certainly.  Thank you, corporal.”  She picked up the loose strap in her teeth and dragged her bag over to the far side of the clearing, tossing it onto her bedroll with a flick of her head.  “Is there anything else you need?”

“No ma’am,” Gruebel said carefully.  The sub-lieutenant was plainly in a state of high pissoff at the moment, and he didn’t want a dose of that.  “Everything’s under control, here.”

“Well, that’s a pleasant change.”  Midnight sighed heavily and then looked at William, who was still staring at her in fascination.  “Can I help you with something?”  she asked frostily.

“Oy, you’re all up aboot it, aren't cha?”  William glanced back upslope, but there was no sign of Taylor at the moment.  “What’d the big fella do, drop a piece o’ wood and scratch yer armour or somet’in’?”

Gruebel covered his face with one hand.  Ohhhh shit, kid.

Midnight’s eyes narrowed until they became glittering indigo slits.  “No.  And I don’t want to hear another word out of you about it, unless you’d like to roost in a tree tonight.”

Sword and Stivers stepped into the clearing and made their way over to where Gruebel was doing his best to ignore everything but the small bit of flame he had just created.  “I see you’re at your usual charming best,” Sword said as he passed the gryphon.  “Keep up at this rate, and you’ll be able to alienate all of us by moonrise.”

William looked wounded.  “Wha’ did I do?”

Sword ignored him and glanced over at Midnight.  “All well, Lieutenant?”

“Yes sir,” she replied crisply.  “Just... a minor difference of opinion.”

“Very well, then.”  Without another word he handed off his bundle of wood to Gruebel and ambled over to sit down next to the growing fire.  “Nice work,” he said approvingly, looking at the careful arrangement of stones.  Gruebel had swept the ground mostly clean, down to the bare earth, and had cleared the carpet of fir needles away for another foot outside of that for good measure.

“Yessir, thank you,” Gruebel said.  “I kinda wasn’t wanting to burn to death in my sleep, you know?”

“Don’t even joke about that shit.”  Thompson shivered and sat down.  “I still remember being stuck burning in that friggin bomber on the way down.  When I finally punch my ticket, I hope to hell it never happens like that again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gallivan said agreeably.  “I’m sure you’ll go out nobly.  You’ll probably walk off a cliff or something.”

Thompson was just gathering himself for a suitably salty retort when he saw Taylor appear at the edge of the firelight, his arms freighted with another load of wood.  “Heya, Lieutenant,” he called.  “What do you think about this?”

Taylor blinked, coming to a standstill and holding the wood to his chest carefully.  “About what?”

“Ol’ grumpy Gus here thinks I’m gonna end my days by falling off a mountain or something.”  Thompson snorted.  “Me, I plan on goin’ out like a hero.  I’m gonna sacrifice myself for the ultimate cause.”

“What’s that?”  Gruebel asked.  He sat down, gingerly massaging his ankle.  “Running like a little girl after you get your ass kicked playing acey-ducey?”

“Nah.  When we get back home I’m gonna kill off a bottle of bourbon and then fling myself in front of all the dames waitin to welcome us back.  I won’t let you guys down, I promise.”

“Thompson, the only woman waiting for you when we get back home is the meter maid waiting to collect on the fine because you double-parked out in front of the base,” Gallivan said.  The sergeant stood up and walked over to Taylor.  “I’ll take that, sir.”

“Huh?  Oh.  Thanks,” Taylor said, shifting the bundle of wood over to the Marine’s waiting arms.  He looked around for a moment, then located his pack and walked over to pick it up.  “I don’t think that’s the best end to my existence I could think of, Thompson.”  He began rummaging through the backpack and moved over to sit down on the other side of the clearing from where Midnight lay.

Stivers took note of the placement, the two lieutenants seated across from each other with the campfire in between like the opposite points of a compass.  He glanced at Sword, and the pony merely shrugged and said nothing.

“I always thought I’d get it charging a machine gun on some crappy beach somewhere,” Gruebel said.  “War’s over now though.  Besides, I get to fly my way into battle.  Beats the hell out of sitting in a hole waiting to have an artillery shell fall on my head.”

“Yeah, and that’s thicker than the armor plating on a battleship,” Thompson said with a grin.  “Shell’d just ricochet off and hit the guy next to you.”

“As long as you’re beside me then, I’ll never be afraid,” Gruebel shot back.  “Hey, how about you, Lieutenant?  You never did say how you’d like to go.”  He looked expectantly at Taylor.  “C’mon sir, give.”

Taylor didn’t respond for a moment, staring at the crackling flames as Gruebel fed the growing fire.  “In the air,” he said at last.  “I want to go out flying my plane.  And I want to stay up there long enough to see the bastard that shot me down burn before I hit the ground.”

Silence filled the camp, broken only by the snapping sound as the hungry flames devoured the wood.

“Well, that beats walking off a cliff, I suppose,” Sword said at last.  “Apple, anyone?”

Midnight shivered under the cloak that draped over her armor, warding off the chilly air as she paced slowly around the perimeter of the camp.  The fire had died down to a low flicker, and she paused now and again to throw a piece of wood on it to keep it going before resuming her walk.  She had asked for the low watch, the dull time of the night between midnight and the dawn when the body’s ebb was at its lowest, and she welcomed the bite of the cold air on her ears as she paced steadily.  The cold kept her alert and awake, and better still, it kept her from thinking too much.

Well, mostly.  The oddly morbid conversation amongst the humans had stuck in her head like a buzzing fly that just won’t leave you alone, no matter how much you switch your tail at the darn thing.  What was it, she wondered, that had made them so callous regarding death, that they could just... chat about it?  Even joke about it?  They would talk, now and again, in bits and snatches, about the war they had just recently been involved in.  It was always something horrible, and there was never any doubt that they were relieved it was all over.  But the strange undercurrent in their voices hinted at something else... the memories were so incredibly sharp and brilliant for them it seemed, even about things that had happened years ago.  It was as if the flames of their lives had been banked low, waiting for that brief moment for conflict to fan them to brilliance.  If that was how humans really were, she could begin to understand Princess Celestia’s concern about having them in Equestria for any length of time.

She glanced over and saw Gallivan, curled up under his blanket, and suddenly felt ashamed.  The sergeant had been relatively quiet of late, his sleep at least outwardly untouched by the dark shadows that had stalked him that night in the desert.  There, at least, was one human who was not like the others.  He certainly didn’t revel in “the good old times.”

That thought was totally unworthy of you, and them, she told herself abruptly.  They’re professionals, and are just quite good at what they do.  Which was certainly true enough.  They were, if nothing else, far more experienced in combat than she was.  The minor confrontation when she had first met the pilots notwithstanding, her first real encounter in combat had been the battle with the dust devils in the desert.  Her training had taken over and she had reacted automatically at Sword’s first shout of trouble, ordering Taylor to cover her without a thought as she shot the creatures off of Shining Star.  The human hadn’t even questioned her, had simply dropped back to support her without a word with the simple trust of one soldier for another.  And he had stood by her while they crouched in the shadow of the bomber while the otherworldly scream of the machine gun had blown the demons into shreds.

Midnight stopped and slumped against a tree, finally allowing her to glance over at the other lieutenant’s sleeping form.  Hearing him talk earlier had torn at her, the pain and longing in his voice evident as he spoke of flying once more, and perishing in battle in the sky.  Having to stay mostly ground bound to accompany the humans was bad enough, and she could well understand how restricted he felt.  Cramped, tied down and bound to the earth, and the poor man didn’t even have his own set of wings he could use to escape, even for a little while.  When she’d tried to comfort him earlier in the day, she hadn’t been completely wrong about what had been bothering him.  At least, not entirely.  The root of it all seemed to come down to that little joke she had made, however.  A harmless, simple little jest that wasn’t even directed at him, but had been taken entirely wrong.

Get a grip on yourself, filly.  That voice that spoke up in her head occasionally began prodding her insistently.  You didn’t doanything wrong.  It was a silly little joke.  If he wants to act like a little colt and be pouty about something that doesn’t even matter, then there’s nothing you can do to change his mind.

“But it does matter,” she whispered.  “What can I do?  He’s my friend.”

Is he?  Is he really?  After getting all worked up over nothing?  After listening to you share your life’s biggest secret and then throwing it back in your face?  That’s selfish of him, and inconsiderate.  You can do better than that.  That’s not a friend.  You don’t need to put up with that.  And you don’t have to.

Midnight rubbed her cheek with a forehoof and groaned.  “I can’t believe I’m arguing with myself about this.”  She drew in a deep breath and resumed her course around the outer ring of the camp area.  It wouldn’t have been so bad if not for the fact that the little voice was rarely wrong...

A muffled rustle and snap of a twig off to her left made her freeze in place, the argument in her mind forgotten in an instant.  She turned her head and gazed off into the darkness, her ears flicking slowly against the chill metal of her helmet.  She cursed herself for having looked so long at the camp area; her night vision was mostly gone from the flickering light of the campfire and she waited impatiently for her eyes to adjust.

Another muffled snap, and then a rustling sound greeted her.  Something was moving toward her slowly, something roughly her own size, or nearly so.  Her nostrils flared as she tried to pick up a scent of some kind, but the wind was from behind her, so whatever was out there already knew she was there and what she was.  She crouched down, her weight shifting to her haunches as she drew her bow out and nocked an arrow in place with one smooth motion.

“Go ahead, come on,” she hissed.  The events of the day washed over her in a red wave and she was suddenly eager and willing, ready to transfix the creature drawing closer and watch it bleed.  “Come on in and have a taste, why not?”

The ground before her was becoming clearer, standing out in sharp relief as the moon suddenly sailed out from behind a cloud and lit up the earth in silent, silver glory.  A low line of undergrowth ten meters ahead of her shook as the creature’s weight pressed against it, and then it gave way.

William emerged from the bushes and stopped cold, staring at her, his beak open in shock.  “Don’t shoot!  It’s me, Lady!”

Midnight stood poised a moment longer, the arrow aimed squarely at the gryphon’s chest, and then she slowly released the tension on the bow and let it drop down.  “What are you doing, you damned idiot?  I almost shot you!”

“Sweet lovin’ Edna, I hadda go pee.  Don’ you ever use th’ bathroom?”

“Oh for...”  Midnight let her head roll back and she stared up at the cloud scudded sky for a moment.  “Next time tell someone before you go like that.”  She began shaking.  “Don’t you ever leave camp without telling someone, do you hear me?”

“Sheesh.  One minute you ponies is tellin’ me ta get lost, the next yer yellin’ at me because I stayed out past me bedtime.”  The gryphon walked past her, eyeing her distrustfully as he headed over to where Gruebel lay.  “Make up yer friggin’ minds, why don’t cha?”

“Stow it before you wake the others,” she snapped.  “Now get back to bed.”

“Yes Mummy,” William said in a high falsetto and then scooted over and began worming his way under Gruebel’s blanket.  “Oy, now that’s the wrong end, there...”

Midnight stood for a moment longer, watching him until the blankets had stopped moving.  Her fore legs felt numb from more than the cold, and she trembled to think how close she had come to actually shooting the little fledgeling gryphon.  The dull heat of anger had fled as abruptly as it had come and she slid the arrow back into the quiver on her side, reslinging her bow across one shoulder and pausing to take a deep breath of the frigid night air.

The stark brilliance of the forest around her faded back into murky night and she looked back up to see the milky orb of the moon almost obscured by clouds.  There was a faint, misty halo around the circumference of the glowing sphere of light and she knew well enough from her basic flight training that bad weather was likely in the offing soon.  She would have to let Sword know when he awoke.  She resumed her patrol around the camp, ears flicking busily at each sound that came from the darkness that surrounded them, but these were only the normal sounds of the night, a faint rustle of wind through leaves and nothing more.  Pausing to shift her quiver to a more comfortable position, she glanced down and saw Taylor’s sleeping form nearby.  The pilot had rolled over in his sleep and his blanket had shifted to one side, and he reflexively curled up against the cold air, shivering.

Midnight looked at him for a moment, and then stepped over, catching one corner of the blanket in her teeth and tugging it gently until it covered his legs once more.  She waited until he stopped shaking and was quiet again, and then moved on, continuing her watch as the night drained away.

Gruebel held out his right hand and let the snowflake settle into it, watching it melt into a tiny droplet of cold water.  “Well if that ain’t the cat’s piss,” he grumbled.

“Well, we knew it was bound to happen sooner or later.  I agree with you, though; I wish it had been later.”  Golden Sword glanced up uneasily at the sky.  The clouds had been thickening since daybreak, with a few last patches of blue fighting to be seen before being swallowed entirely by the undulating blanket that hung overhead.  By the time they had finished breakfast and packed their things, the overcast was total.  The combination of their height and the lowering clouds was unsettling; it was almost tempting to put up a hand or a hoof and see if you could tear a rent in the billowing mass above.

“You want to see if we can pick it up a notch, then?”  Stivers glanced at Sword.  “If this crap keeps falling steady, we’re gonna lose the trail in short order, and I don’t think there’s a whole lot of hotels open around here.”

“Agreed.  You heard him, troops.  Let’s move it.  I don’t expect doubletime out of you, not on this slope, but let’s try for time and a half, shall we?”  Without waiting, Sword moved off in the lead, his hooves moving in an odd stutterstep that was the bastard child of a normal pony’s walk and a full-out trot.  The others followed, settling themselves into a long, single file line that stretched out for a full twenty meters, with Sword in the lead and Gallivan bringing up the rear.

“Why am I reminded of boot camp?”  Thompson said to no one in particular.  “Oh yeah, now I remember.  Jogging uphill with a full pack.  Oh, except now it’s up a mountain in the snow, instead of through the sand and hills in South Carolina.  It’s great to see how much I’ve done with my life since then.”

“Save your wind, Marine.”  Gallivan’s voice came floating back up the line to him.  “You’re gonna want it back before too long.”

He was proven wrong, however.  Twenty minutes into the jog, the path rose sharply in grade and began curving to the south.  The ground was falling away on their left, the tree dotted slope getting lower and lower until the treetops on it were nearly at shoulder height on the humans.  The ground to the right of them rose up as well until it became nearly a vertical slope blocking their view.  Small stones and the occasional larger boulder lay in the narrowing path, a sure sign that rockslides were at least common in this area, and they all began casting nervous glances upslope to their right as they moved on.

The wind began freshening, its icy fingers tickling and prodding at the edges of their cloaks as they worked their way higher.  The snowfall was thicker now, with occasional eddies in the wind making odd swirling and dancing patterns before their eyes for a few seconds, and then being torn away again as the wind tired of its play.  Sword slowed their pace back to a walk, and the group instinctively drew closer together, bunching up until you could read out with a forehoof and touch your companion in front of you.  Up ahead, the path narrowed to a ledge about a foot wide and wound around an outthrust spur of rock, twisting out of sight on the other side and appearing to bend back toward the southwest.  The wind, still rising, gusted for a brief moment, the eddy around the outstretched rock making an unearthly wail as it fought free and flung icy spray in their faces.

“Oh, shit,” Stivers said unhappily.  “There’s a damned crosswind on the other side of that thing.  The wind’s almost full on out of the southwest... we go around that, we’re gonna be pinned up against the rock with no cover.”

“Should we hold up here, then?”  Taylor asked.  “Huddle up against the wall here and see if it slacks off some?”

“I don’t think that’s an option.”  Midnight was peering up at the sky, watching the roiling motion of the clouds.  “This is a fairly large front moving in, and it doesn’t look like it wants to go anywhere any time soon.”  She flinched and snorted as a spat of snow struck her in the muzzle.  “It could hang around anywhere from a couple of days to a week, from the look of it.”

“How do you know?”  Taylor glanced up.  “It could blow itself out overnight—”

“I took meteorology in my basic flight training,” she said curtly.  “Didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Taylor replied, biting back a retort.  “I did indeed.”

“Well, I stayed awake for mine.”  Midnight shivered, her wings clamped tightly against her sides.  “We need to keep moving and find better shelter somewhere else, or else we’re going to freeze to death before morning.  All these eddies will blow any fire out long before we can get it going, and if the wind shifts, we’ll have no protection at all.”

“Agreed.”  Sword glanced back at the group and then looked up at Stivers.  “I’ll go first.  I’ll let you know how bad the crosswind is so the rest of you can prepare yourselves for it.”

Stivers returned his gaze evenly.  “And what makes you a better choice than me for that?”

“Well, if I get blown off...”  Sword’s wings flicked out to full extension and he grinned.  “I can always come back for a second try.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get you.  Goddam smart ass ponies.”  Stivers chuckled and knocked his knuckles against the armor on Sword’s back.  “Go get ‘em, tiger.”  He stood and watched the pegasus pace slowly forward and edge his face around the edge of the rock outcropping ahead, then draw back for a moment, shivering.

“Sweet Celestia, that wind’s cold!”  he called back to them.  “It’s got a bite to it, Captain, watch out for it!”

They huddled together and watched as Sword stepped fully out from behind the rock’s shelter and exposed himself to the full brunt of the wind.  His cloak billowed out over his left shoulder, snapping testily in the wind as he moved carefully along the narrow ledge, placing each hoof firmly and pausing to test his footing before moving again.  Slowly, step by step, he worked his way around the overhang until he was completely out of sight on the other side.

A long moment passed, and then they heard a faint call over the wind’s howl.  “...up next!”

Stivers started to step forward, and felt a hand on his shoulder.  “Pardon me, sir, do you mind if I cut in?”  Taylor stepped around him and walked toward the outcropping.

“Charlie, wait.”  Stivers moved forward to stop him.  “Let me go.  If the wind catches you—”

“No great loss.  You still have a lot of ground-pounding to do, and that’s your forte.  Besides, Mama Taylor’s lil’ boy was born to fly.”  He gripped the outthrust rock in both hands and began to edge around it.

“Taylor, wait!”  Midnight shuffled uneasily where she stood, her eyes on the lieutenant’s feet.  “Watch where you—”

“Stow it,” Stivers said, holding up a hand in front of her.  “Don’t distract him.  Come on Charlie, don’t screw up now.”

“I can still hear you,” Taylor shot back.  His fingers were almost immediately numb where they touched the rock, and he shuffled along carefully, the rough edges of the granite biting into his chest.  He felt one of his feet shift position without warning, and he uttered a curse, his knuckles turning white as he increased his grip.  “Watch your footing, there’s ice here!”  He glanced back over his shoulder and saw Stivers and Midnight watching him, their eyes wide.

Stivers’ waved an arm, his mouth dropping open in a soundless shout as the wind stole his words away, but the meaning was clear.  Go!

“Yeah, yeah, keep your panties on straight,” Taylor growled.  The wind tugged at him again and he closed his eyes, waiting for it to subside.  A few seconds later it obliged and he opened his eyes and began shuffling around the rock again, keeping his gaze fixed on his own hands.  Shuffle, shuffle, shift your grip.  Wash, rinse, repeat.  Finally, he risked a glance down and saw that the narrow ledge was once more a wide enough path that he could place his feet without feeling the dropoff beneath his boot heels.  He felt his whole body relax, as if he were a gigantic clenched fist.  “Holy shit, that was intense.”

“Wasn’t it, though?”  Sword stood next to him, the pony’s cloak billowing in the wind.  “You did fine, considering you’re twice my height and have half as many legs.  I can see where the hands come in handy, though.”

“‘Hands come in handy?’”  Taylor groaned.  “You just made that one up, didn’t you?”

“I knew you’d like that,” the pony chuckled.  He raised his voice and shouted over the howling gusts.  “All clear!  Next up!”

One by one each of them worked their way around the spur of rock.  Midnight and Star came next, the mare stepping carefully past it without a word, while the stallion took a bit more time, eyeing his hooves mistrustfully and cursing every third or fourth step.  Gruebel, Crimson Hoof and Shadow followed, and Sword flinched as he saw their cloaks swirling as the wind caught and tossed them about.

“We should have taken the damned things off before we started,” he growled to Stivers.  “No help for it now, though.”

“They’ll be all right,” the Marine replied.  He watched as Thompson began working his way around the rock.  “They seem to have caught the hang of it—”

The wind seemed to draw itself back and then come raging at them suddenly, shifting almost sixty degrees in less than ten seconds.  The flap on one side of Thompson’s pack flapped in the disturbance and then flew open, creating an opening which the gust sought eagerly.  It filled the open gap and yanked at the hapless Marine, throwing him off balance and making him miss his grip.  One foot slipped, and he wavered for a moment, tottering on the brink.

“HANG ON!!!”Stivers bellowed.  He leapt forward, reaching out and slamming down on his chest on the rocky ledge, his outstretched arms seizing one of Thompson’s hands as the other Marine went completely over the side.  Stivers heard the sergeant’s gasp as his body slammed into the rock of the mountainside, the impact shaking them both and nearly unseating his grip on Thompson’s arm.  The jolt pulled him forward and Stivers flailed for purchase with his free hand as he felt himself slipping along the icy rock toward the edge.

Hands seized his left leg in a firm grip, and he felt a tug on his right, and his sliding motion stopped.  He could sense the looming shape of Gallivan to one side as the Marine wormed his way around the rock.  “Sir, hold on, I’ll—”

“Get your ass off that ledge,” Stivers hissed through clenched teeth.  “You try and help now and you’ll go over the side with him.  Who’s got my legs?”

“Taylor, Midnight and Star.  Give me a second and I’ll help.”

“Hold my legs.  You can’t do jack shit on this end.”  Stivers looked down at Thompson’s pale, frightened face.  “Hang on Howie, we’ll get you up in a jiffy.”  The Marine nodded back at him with a jerk of his head.

He heard an outcry from Sword and saw a blur of motion in one corner of his eye.  Shadow had thrown his pack and cloak aside and launched himself into the air, the wildly swirling currents tossing the pegasus about like a paper airplane.  The pony did a complete barrel roll and fought his way back to the cliff edge, disappearing out of Stivers’ sight.  Thompson’s weight eased suddenly, and Stivers grabbed hold of his arm with both hands.

“Now!” he yelled over his shoulder.  “Pull us up!”

Behind him, Taylor and Gallivan began hauling back, slipping and sliding as their boots sought purchase on the icy rock.  Midnight and Star did the same on the other side, their teeth clenched in the fabric of the leg of Stivers’ pants.  Heaving and yanking, they pulled back until Thompson’s form was visible.  The shaken Marine grabbed at the rock with his other hand and helped pull himself back up onto the ledge.  Behind him, Shadow flailed at the air and managed to find purchase on the rock for his hooves and he alighted, folding his wings back to his sides and shivering uncontrollably.

Thompson rolled onto his back, panting, and stared at the pegasus.  “Thanks buddy.  You just saved my ass.  You too, skipper.”

“No problem,” Stivers wheezed, slapping the Marine on the chest.  “Just don’t do that again, huh?  They warned you about walking off a cliff, remember?”

“I didn’t walk off, I slipped.”  Thompson let his head roll back to rest against the frozen rock, looking up at the grey sky that still spat snow at them.  “You grabbed me, and then Shadow damn near carried me back up on his back.”

“I just flew under you, put my head up against your flank and pushed,” the pony replied.  “It was tough trying to stay airborne in that wind, though.”

“I bet.”  Thompson suddenly burst out laughing, the adrenaline slowly draining away.  “Good thing I didn’t shit myself when I went over, huh?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think of that.”  Shadow chuckled and brushed reflexively at the crumpled crest atop his helmet.  “I appreciate that, though.”  He shivered again, his teeth chattering.  “Um, anypony catch my cloak?  I think I tossed it over—”  He broke off, pointing with a forehoof past them, his eyes wide.

They all turned and saw a huddled shape on the path beyond them, the cowl of its own cloak thrown back to display the feathered head, the beadwork and other accents flying back as its feathers swirled in the wind.  The gryphon’s yellow eyes regarded them for a moment, and then the beak opened and made a clucking noise.

“You know,” it said, “if you’d quit trying to save money and sign up for a tour group, this sort of thing would happen less often.”

F19; Chapter 14, fimfiction edition

comparison: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1J7TRNtKqP6p0QqTQphfV-MS9v74ZT4_VTqoFfepITVA/edit

Chapter 14: Bright Lights, Big City

The tunnel the group found themselves in was wide and dry, with no sheen of moisture on the walls.  It widened out rapidly just beyond the entrance, and Taylor could place one hand on the wall to his right with outstretched arms and feel nothing on his left but empty air.  “Whoa... guys, slow up.  Did we just enter a cavern or something?”

William’s voice floated back to him.  “I told you, eh, it’s fer th’ merchants.  Wouldn’t be any good fer th’ tunnel to fit only one wagon at a time you know, ey”

“So this isn’t a one way street, then.”  Stivers voice echoed back to him in the darkness for a moment, and then the pilot straightened abruptly.  “Hey, I think I see something!”  He reached out with one hand, groping awkwardly in the dark.

“Uhh, Captain, that would be me.”  Midnight’s voice came back with an odd tone.  “Would you mind letting go of my tail?”

“Oop.  Sorry.”  Stivers blinked owlishly.  “Say, it’s getting brighter in here, too.”

“That’d be one o’ the Wardens, ey?”  William looked back over his shoulder.  “D’ey’re a bit late d’is evening; Usually d’ey light th lamps before it gets d’is dark, you know?  In th daytime d’ere’s normally enough light ta get ya t’rue down to th’ main lobby, ey.”

“Lobby?”  Sword glanced at the gryphon for a moment.  “Just how big is this place.”

“That would be telling, now, and ‘dat would jus’ spoil th’ surprise, now wouldn’t it?”  William snickered.  “Ain't no one ‘ere gonna ‘urt you, Cap’n Shinysides. Relax, ey?  Tis a tradin’ post, ey, not a military camp, you know?”  Without waiting for a reply, he moved on ahead, leaving Sword no choice but to follow along, the others trailing out behind.

The light grew rapidly, and its source soon became apparent.  A gryphon appeared from around a bend in the tunnel, pausing every ten feet or so to light a lantern set against the cavern walls with a small brand he gripped on one claw.  He finished lighting the next lantern in line, and turned to move on, then stopped as he saw the group approaching.  “Oh, hello there.  Sorry about the dark, I got held up by Sheerness, that fella always was one who loved to clap his beak a mile a minute but never say anything worth... oh.”  The creature paused, evidently taken aback at the larger forms of the humans that loomed just behind the ponies.

“Hello.” William’s voice was almost cheerful.  “‘Ow’s it goin’, ol’-timer?”

The gryphon frowned for a moment.  “My name,” he said with quiet dignity, “is Edward, thank you. You’re an odd looking bunch, I’ll tell you..”  He reached up with one claw and adjusted a pair of spectacles that sat perched on the midpoint of his beak.  “Come to do a bit of trading?” he asked hesitantly, noting the gleam of armor on the ponies forms.

“That’s right,” Sword said easily.  “Just passing through, we thought we’d stop in and maybe grab a few things, some extra food and supplies.”

“Oh!  Well, excellent, then.”  The old warden’s expression eased a bit, and he ventured a small smile.  “I think they’ve got a sale on Kjit at the moment... though you might not like that, though.”

“What’s Kjit?” Sword whispered to William.

“Kjit is that lovely canned delicacy yer friends were cooking there the other night.”  William frowned.  “You called it ‘spam,’ I think.”

“Oh.”  Sword’s tone fell flat.  “I see.  Well, I’m sure there’s plenty of other things we can look over.”  He offered the old gryphon another wide smile.  “If you’ll excuse us, we’re quite ready to go grab a bite to eat.”

“Oh, I’ll bet.”  Edward grinned and winked at him.  “And maybe a mug or so of Split-Tail’s finest, eh?”  With a laugh, the old gryphon turned and, bowing to the others, continued past them toward the next lamp in line on the wall.

“Split-Tail’s finest?”  Shadow’s ears perked up at that.  “My pony senses detect... alcohol.”

“No chance,” Star said flatly.  “We’re on duty, remember?”

“Wait.  Did somebody say booze?”  Thompson’s voice was tinged with wistfulness.  “I remember booze.  Once upon a time, I had a drink....”

“Okay, and on that note, can we push forward, then?”  Taylor’s voice was strained.  “I’d really like to get to the town part and get the hell out of the narrow tunnel part of this place, what do you say?”

“I say that sounds like a fine idea.”  Without another word, Sword turned and began heading down the tunnel again, with William trotting lightly along beside him.  With the lighting, the group was clearly able to see the worn marks in the tunnel floor caused by countless foot, hoof and pawprints, as well as several oddly curved marks that they realized were left by the wheels of wagons, passing in and out of the tunnel.  They followed the curve of the rocky path where it turned to the right, and as one, they stopped, staring in amazement.

“Ho-lee shit,” Stivers breathed.

The majesty of the mountains they had left behind was nothing compared to the vast cathedral of stone before them.  Nature had nothing but time, and over the millennia the patient wear of water and minerals upon the rock had hollowed out the vast space that the gryphons had taken over and converted into their own.  The roof was hidden in darkness high overhead, the outline just visible with the jagged edges of mineral encrustation that leaned hither and yon.  The gryphons had modified this to suit them, removing parts of the rock here and there overhead, and openings made to let in fresh air, dimly glimpsed where the stars peered in curiously to observe the goings-on below.

Those goings-on drew Stivers’ gaze down to the settlement that lay before their eyes, and the Marine vowed to have a talk with William about what he had called a “small town.”  The bustle before them was staggering, to a degree that it made what they had seen in Ponyville look like a small farming village out in the country.  Ponies, Gryphons, and all manner of other creatures roamed to and fro, some hustling wares, others looking for work, and more yet just enjoying the comfortably warm atmosphere. The signs above stalls and shops alike were just pictograms to transcend the language barrier that most species encountered, but the group knew one thing: Money transcends all language.

The group stood at the main entrance to the cavern, a long, shallowly inclined stone ramp descending before them to the cavern floor proper.  As one they began descending the ramp slowly, drawn towards the activity like a bee to honey, the various sounds and smells beginning to overwhelm them after spending so much time with only each other for company in the wilderness.  “Where to first?” William asked.

Shadow and Thompson looked to each other, then to a sign that had a mug of ale portrayed on it.  “Beer,” they both said in unison.

Both Sword and Stivers turned to give them equal looks of annoyance.  “Business first, troops.”  Stivers glanced at Sword.  “I’d like to see if we can’t find some extra provisions, if you don’t mind.  No offense, but oats and dried fruit get old after awhile.”

“Not at all.  Too much food on hand is not something I’ve ever complained about when traveling cross-country.”  Sword offered him a dim smile.  “Have you considered, however, the manner of payment you’re going to employ?”

“Oh, shit.”  Stivers turned red.  “I’d forgotten about that.”

“Yes, the same problem we had with the zebras, if you remember.”  Sword sighed and looked out at the bustling throng.  “I’d forgotten it myself.  Well, at the very least, we’ll be able to fill our water bags.”  He pointed with a forehoof at a communal well that appeared to be formed out of the rocky floor itself.  “Unless there’s a convenience fee of some sort?”  He looked at William.

“You’re kidding, ey?”  William made an odd face.  “Nobody charges for water.  It’s th’ specialty of th’ house where d’ey make d’eir gold at.”  He pointed with a wingtip at the nearby pub that Shadow and Thompson had already taken notice of.

“Well, that solves that little problem.”  Sword looked at the others.  “I’m afraid you’ll have to skip on the specialty beverages this time.”

“Ey, wait.  If it’s money yer lackin, I’ve got a bit tucked away.”  William lifted one wing, extending it fully and exposing his side.  The gryphon had an odd sort of belt strapped around his midsection, almost hidden by the feathers.  On either side was a small pouch, and the youngster rapped the exposed one with a foreclaw, causing it to emit a soft jingle.  “Never know when yer gonna need a bit now and then, ey?”

“Just where did you get that?”  Sword asked, dumbfounded.  The pouch was small, but heavily laden from the look of it.

“It’s mine, Shinysides.”  William shrugged.  “I took me share before I left home... ‘aven’t ‘ad much of a chance ta spend it on anyt’ing yet though, so d’ere’s still a nice sized lump in d’ere, ey.”  His expression took on a gloating air.  “I could be persuaded tah share, if ya gave me the right motivation.”

Golden Sword lifted an eyebrow at that.  “And just what is it that you want from us?  I already told you, this is as far as we go together.”

“Yah, yah, I got all that.”  William glanced around.  “Think of it as... an exchange of favors, ey?  What better place to do a little horse trading, in a manner of speakin’.”

Sword’s expression was bland, revealing nothing.  “What do you want?”

William’s normally complacent expression turned into something odd, and it took Sword a second to recognize it for what it was: apprehension.  “Spot me a mug, ey?”

“What?”

The gryphon sighed and clenched his beak.  “Buy... me,” he said slowly, enunciating the words very carefully, “A. Mug. Of. Ale.”

The pony’s bewilderment only grew at this.  “Why on earth would I do that?  You have the money, buy it yourself.”

“I can’t, Shinysides, else I’d ‘ave been done wit’ you already.”  William rolled his eyes.  “I’m not old enough to buy me own yet.”

“So you’re underage and you want us to buy you booze.”  Stivers’ tone was flat and plainly unsympathetic.  “Breaking the law and corrupting a kid are two things on my ‘Don’t Do’ list, buddy.”

“Oh, Edna, do I ‘ave to explain everyt’ing to you lot?”  William sighed and took a deep breath.  “I said I can’t buy it.  I’m old enough they’ll allow me a drink, if a grownup is doin’ the buyin’, see?  I ‘ave to have a... what do you call it...”  He trailed off, frowning, twirling a foreclaw in the air absently.

“Sponsor?”  Stivers said.

“Chaperone?”  Sword added a moment later.

“Babysitter?”  Taylor chimed in, smiling innocently.

This last earned him a dirty look from the gryphon.  “Ey, what Shinysides said.  Anyhoo, the way it works is: You buy, I drink, you get to stand d’ere and make sure I don’t make a mess o’ t’ings.”

“Adult supervision?”  Taylor’s eyes were wide in faux wonder.  “Wow, imagine that. Must be inconvenient as hell.  I can’t imagine why they’d want that.”

William made a rude gesture with a wingtip that was lost on the human.  “Anyway, that’s th’ deal.  You get me what I want, I’ll give you a bit o’ cash in return, and we can go away ‘appy.”

Sword’s expression displayed his obvious reluctance to this.  “You’re sure this is legal?”

“Yes, on my pinfeathers I swear it, for Edna’s sake.”  William waved a wing at the nearby tavern.  “Go ask the barkeep if’n you don’t believe me, ey?”

Sword and Stivers looked at each other for a moment, and then Stivers turned around to look at where Thompson and the others stood, looking around and taking in the sights.  “Marines, we have a little mission for you...”

Midnight Arrow watched the group of ponies, Marines and one very excited young gryphon walk away together towards the nearest establishment, one that had a very large and colorful mug displayed over its entrance.  “Captain, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“I agree it’s not the best solution, but it’s one that works.”  Sword examined the small pile of coins that William had given him for a moment before tucking them into one of the pouches slung at his side.  “The troops get a little time to relax, we get some money to procure some extra supplies with, and young Master William is happy and, what’s more important, out of our manes.”

“I told Gallivan to keep an eye on things, and Hoof as well, so hopefully between the two of them, they’ll keep things from getting out of hand.”  Stivers glanced around idly for a moment.  “So.  Where to?”

Midnight turned away reluctantly and looked out over the crowded street ahead of them.  “Well, based on past experience, I’d suggest we just wander around a bit.  See what the market has to offer, and then we can pick and choose where we spend our hard earned...whatever they’re called.”

Sword peered closely at one of the pentagonal shaped coins.  “Our little friend referred to them as ‘arçiliks.’”

Taylor frowned.  “Ark-licks?”

“ARCH-liks,” Sword corrected.  “I think it helps if you have a beak.”

“Oh, that reminds me!”  Midnight lifted a wing and began rummaging through the pouch slung on her right side.  “I do still have a few bits from back home left.”

“Even money on if anyone around here will take them.”  Taylor glanced around.  “There’s a couple of other ponies here, though, so they have to have someplace to exchange cash at, if nothing else.”

“And they’re liable to rip you off while they’re at it,” Stivers agreed.  “What the hell, hang onto them, Midnight.  They could come in useful somewhere else.”  He uttered a grunt and stumbled as something bumped him from behind.  They all turned to see a gryphon staggering back from where it had collided with Stivers.  The creature stumbled, then sat down hard, emitting a garbled squawk.

“Sorry, bud, didn’t see you.”  Stivers frowned as he looked at the creature.  The gryphon was peering up at him dazedly, and the force of the impact hadn’t been that hard.  “Um, are you okay?”

“Shhooarr, you’re a big one, you are, arkadashim!”  The gryphon’s voice was thick, slurred and decidedly female.  “Ooh, want to come with miss Belinda, dear?  I know a wunnerful place to ‘ave a drink and talk.”

Taylor winced and waved a hand in front of his face.  “Lady, I think you’ve had enough already.  Ten shots past enough.”

The gryphon giggled unsteadily and hiccuped.  “Oh, I’m just gettin’ warm, dear.  ‘course, I could get a bit warmer wit’ the right company, eh?”  She flicked a wingtip out at Stivers playfully, and slapped the pilot on the shin full force with her wing.

Sword glanced up at his tall companion, fighting to keep a straight face.  “I think you made a friend, Captain.”

“Ain’t that just my luck,” the Marine growled.  “Look, sorry ma’am, but we’re kinda busy.  Thanks for the invitation, though.”

“Och, don’t worry, I get it.”  The drunken gryphon attempted a charming smile, which ended up looking more like a leering rictus of a grin to Stivers.  “Don’ worry.  I can see you’ve already got company, but lemme tell you, Belinda will treat you better than that fuzzy wag.”  She swayed unsteadily, then waved a wingtip in Midnight’s direction.  “Trus’ me, you’ll be over her before you know it.”

Midnight stared at the gryphon in mingled shock and disgust.  “That is... so many kinds of wrong, I don’t even know where to start.”

The gryphon cackled and looked up at Stivers.  “Oooh, she’s jealous already.  I told ya!”

Stivers looked at Sword despairingly, then glanced back behind them where the rest of the group had disappeared into the tavern.  “Christ.  I hope the rest of them can stay out of trouble.”

“... I told you, don’t worry.  We’ll be fine.”  Thompson offered a wide, harmless grin.  “Trust me.”

“You forget, Howie.  I know you.”  Gallivan folded his arms and looked at Thompson patiently.  “That’s why I’m going to keep an eye on you.”

“Me?  What about him?”  Thompson pointed at Gruebel, who stood stock still, perusing the pictographic menu that hung from brass hooks behind the long table that served as a bar.  “He’s the one you should look out for.”

“Oh, I know.  I keep two eyes on him.”

Thompson frowned.  “That’s three eyes, Sarge.  You only got two.”

“When it comes to you jokers, I have a thousand eyes,” Gallivan said ominously.  “So don’t forget it.”  He glanced down to his side, where Shadow was standing and eyeing the same menu as Gruebel.  “That goes for you too, Mongo.”

“Huh?”  Shadow looked up at him.  “What’d I do?”

“Nothing, yet.  Keep it that way, and we’ll be fine.”  Gallivan looked over to his other side, where William was standing, the young gryphon fairly bouncing from paw to claw in impatience.  “Okay bud, this is your show.  What did you want?”

William pointed with a wingtip at the third display from the left, one that showed a frothy mug filled with what looked like milk to Gallivan’s eye.  “That one, Split-Tail’s Pale Ale.”

“Okay, your call.  That sound okay to everybody else?”  Gallivan looked around.  Gruebel gave him a thumbs-up in affirmation, and Thompson nodded.  “How about you guys?”  Gallivan asked, glancing at the ponies.

Shadow nodded as well.  “Sounds good to me.  Full round to everypony!”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”  Star shook his head.  “I’m, uh, just gonna find us a place to sit.”

“Well, I was gonna sit out, but since you’re playing Old Mary, count me in, then.”  Crimson Hoof grinned widely.  “I’ll take one, too.”

“You sure?”  Star glanced over his shoulder worriedly.  “The Captain said—”

“The Captain said one of us had to sit back and keep an eye on everypony else.  Since you’re not drinking, no reason I can’t have just one.”

“But what if he finds out?”  Star asked.

“If he does, it won’t be from me.”  Hoof glanced over at Gallivan.  “What do you say, Sarge?”

“Based on past experience, I’d say it’s your ass and not mine.”  Gallivan shrugged.  “Besides, he just said to stay out of trouble, he didn’t exactly say ‘Don’t drink anything.’”  He looked at Star.  “Did he?”

The pegasus frowned.  “Well... no, not exactly, but he usually means—”

“See?  That’s why orders are important.  And if you follow your orders, you have no problems.”  Gallivan grinned.  “And if he didn’t give the right orders, well, that’s his problem, not ours.”

Shadow laughed.  “Say, sounds like you’ve done this before, Sarge.”

“I’ve been on shore leave more than once,” Gallivan agreed.  “Okay William, this is your treat.  You got the cash, so pony up.”

As William began digging into his purse, Star walked away, mumbling to himself.  “Why doesn’t anypony ever listen to me?”

Taylor glanced idly at a nearby booth that had several items of jewelry on display.  Most of the pieces looked fairly gaudy, even to his untrained eye, but there were a couple of nice sets of necklaces on show and even earrings, to his surprise.  “You know what the weirdest thing about this place is?”

Stivers glanced over at the lieutenant.  “Us?”

Taylor pointed a finger at him and mimed pulling a trigger.  “Bingo.  But I haven’t had one of these guys yet wander over and ask me just what the hell I am.”

Midnight laughed out loud at that.  “Welcome to a market town, Taylor.  If they did ask you what you were, it might insult you so much that you might not spend your money with them.”

“Money talks in a voice both loud and insistent,” Sword agreed.

“Yeah, but....”  Taylor broke off, staring.  “Holy Jesus, what the fuck is that thing?”

“Taylor!”  Midnight swatted his shin with a wing.  “Language, remember?”

“Yeah, but...”  Taylor stood rooted, staring up ahead at a hulking shape that only superficially resembled a bear.  The thing had a beak like an eagle and two sets of long, sharp claws that resembled a mole’s forepaws.  It finished paying the vendor at the stall ahead and walked off, munching contentedly on something impaled on the end of a stick.  “What is it?”

Sword peered ahead interestedly.   “I don’t actually know,” he admitted.  “When we get back home, I’ll have to look that one up.”

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t eating a salad.”  Stivers elbowed Taylor.  “Wanna go see what else that guy has for sale?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”  Taylor recovered himself quickly.  “I mean, as long as it’s not rat-on-a-stick or something.”

“You never know.”  Stivers began angling over in that direction, a thoughtful look on his face.  “With the right dipping sauce...”

Sword snorted and burst out laughing at that.  “Captain, you are incorrigible.”

“No,” Stivers replied carefully.  “I’m a Capricorn.”

Taylor looked at them both oddly.  “Since when did I become the stodgy sourpuss and you get to make the wiseass remarks?”

Stivers laughed and shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Maybe I’m finally getting used to this place.”  He stopped in front of the booth that the mysterious creature had just vacated and looked over the display.  Several small plates with sample-sized portions were laid on on the bench that faced the path, and what looked like bottles of hot sauces and other condiments were on a shelf behind the gryphon vendor, twinkling invitingly.  “Hey, now, that’s an idea...”

The gryphon behind the counter, who had trying not to stare openly at the tall fellow who had just shown up at his stall, followed Stivers’ gaze to the sauces that were on display.  “Ah, looking for something to spice up your life, Arkadashim?”

“I thought I’d found the one to do that, but she left me for an army flyboy about six months ago.”  Taylor began looking over the other items on display.  “What can you do for us?”

“I don’t stock anything in that department, I’m afraid,” the gryphon said good-humoredly.  “However, if you’d like something to tease your tongue, or just something to tide you over, I’ve got what you need.”

“Is that jerky?”  Taylor pointed at a grouping of several packages that were on a nearby shelf, the contents clearly visible through the transparent wrapping.

“Evet, that I’ve got plenty of.  If you’re doing any travelling... and if you’ll forgive me, it’s obvious you don’t live nearby... you couldn’t do better.”  The gryphon closes his eyes and began reciting.  “I have beef jerky, pork jerky, chicken, venison, manticore—”

“On that note,” Sword broke in, “I think Midnight and I are going to look around on our own while you two pick up... well, whatever you want.”  Midnight made eager nodding motions at this.  “Let’s meet back up here in say, twenty minutes or so?”

“Sounds like a plan.”  Stivers pointed at one of the sauces.  “What have you got that’ll light me up but won’t burn me down?”

“Ohh, just wait til you try this one!”  The shopkeeper, clearly in his element now, was uncorking several of the sauce bottles and dabbing a bit on some of the samples that were on display.  “It’ll wake you up for sure.”

Thompson broke out in laughter at the expression on William’s face.  “So, I’m guessin’ you haven’t had much of this stuff before.”

They sat around the table that Star had picked out in one corner of the tavern, the humans perched precariously on stools that were designed for somepony smaller and a lot lighter.  William had just taken a huge swallow of the ale that filled the mug in front of him, and he was now eyeing it suspiciously, as if it was a robber that had just broken into his house.  “No, everyone talks about Split-Tail ale like it was the twelfth wonder of the world.  This... ain’t what I expected.”

Gruebel had just taken a swallow of his own and was swishing it about in his mouth experimentally.  “Not bad, actually.  I’ve had worse.”

“And it didn’t stop you from drinking it, did it?”  Thompson said.

“I pay good money for a glass of suds, it’s goin’ down my gullet one way or the other.”  Gruebel took another honk off of his glass.  “I complain after it’s done.”  He glanced over at William, who was still staring at his glass.  “Try again, bud.  You get used to it after awhile.”

Shadow had picked up his mug and held it up for a moment, letting the light shine through the amber liquid inside.  He looked over at Thompson and bumped the pilot with an elbow.  “Ready?”

Thompson looked at the pony.  “Ready for what?”

Shadow grinned fiendishly and raised his glass higher without saying a word.

“Oh shit, no you did not just challenge me.”  Thompson picked up his mug and held it even with the pony’s.  “Ready when you are, short stuff.”

“I’ll remember that when I have to drag you out of here,” Shadow replied agreeably.

Thompson uttered a barking laugh and then crouched down, bringing his eye level even with Shadow.  “Go!”

The two both whipped their mugs up and began drinking steadily, the level of ale in their glasses falling with startling rapidity.

“Yeah!”  Gruebel hooted and clapped his hands.  “Go, Howie! Show him how it’s done in the Corps!”

William stared, his beak open, watching Thompson’s Adam’s apple bounce up and down as the pilot swallowed.  “Um... is his throat s’posed to do that?”

“Hell yes.”  Gruebel grinned.  “That is a finely tuned machine in action, son.”

Gasping simultaneously, Thompson and Shadow both drained their mugs and slapped them back on the table almost in concert with each other.  The Marine uttered a tooth-rattling belch that earned him some applause from a nearby table.  “Damn, that was good!”  He looked over at Gallivan.  “Call it, Sarge.”

Gallivan was kicked back on the stool he sat on, his shoulders resting against the wall behind him.  “Too close,” he declared.  “No winner, got to move on to the next round.”

“Aww, crap.”  Gruebel looked at Hoof.  “We already drank half of ours.”

“Then refill, dumbass,” Gallivan said equably.  “Your honour is at stake, not to mention that of the Marine Corps.”

As Gruebel signaled at one of the harried waitresses who were moving throughout the room on a non-stop sweep for empty mugs, Thompson turned to give Shadow a dirty look.  “When they’re done, it’s you and me again, buddy.  And this time I’m not gonna hold back.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Shadow said calmly.  “By the way, since we’re at it, care to lay a little bet on our next one?”

“Okay, but with what?”  Thompson patted his pockets.  “No moolah, kemosabe.”

Shadow grinned unpleasantly.  “Guard duty.  One week.  You lose, I sleep while you wander around keeping me safe from anything nasty and unpleasant.  In addition to your own shift.  I lose, same deal for you.”

“Oooh, that’s harsh.”  Gallivan’s eyes gleamed.  “I like it.  Fair bet.”

Stivers picked up the large satchel that the vendor had given them and tugged it close, knotting the drawstring together in a neat loop.  “Thanks for the bag, bud.”

“No problem.”  The gryphon didn’t even look up from counting the stack of shiny coins the human had given him.  “Hope you enjoy it.  And don’t get the sauce bottles mixed up!  It ruins the taste.”

“Gotcha.”  Stivers started to walk away, then stopped, waiting, as Taylor flicked a last coin at the gryphon and came trotting over, one of the plastic bags in hand.  “More jerky?”

“Yah, but this one’s allll for me.”  Taylor fumbled awkwardly at the top of the bag for a moment before finally managing to open it.  “I’ve never seen food wrapped in this stuff before, but it seems to work.”

“Yeah, you usually only find a rifle wrapped in that crap when you’re landing on a beach.  I guess I could see how it would work for food though.”  Stivers frowned, peering at the front of the bag.  “Um, which animal is that you’re eating?”

“I don’t know,” Taylor said around a mouthful of the stuff.  “And I don’t want to.  All I know is that it’s not fruit.  Or oats.  Or a hay bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich.”

“Ohhh-kayyy.”  Stivers shook his head.  “I hope you have a strong stomach, then.”

Taylor stopped in mid-chew.  “Asshole.  I told you I didn’t want to know.”

Stivers slung the satchel of food over his right shoulder, holding up his left hand.  “Hey, I didn’t say anything.”

        Sighing, Taylor took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment.  Opening them, he lifted the bag up and looked at the front of it.  The gryphonnic writing was indecipherable, but the picture of the cow on the front was crystal clear.  It was almost cartoonish, smiling back at the viewer as if pleased at how tasty it was.

        “It’s beef.”  Taylor looked over at Stivers and punched him on the shoulder.  “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

        “I only took lessons from the best.”  Stivers grinned back at him for a moment, then his expression grew serious.  “Charlie, are you okay?  You’ve been pretty uptight lately.”

        Taylor coughed on the piece of jerky he had been chewing.  “Huh?”

        “Ever since we got into the mountains, you’ve been a little bit edgy.”  Stivers shrugged.  “If it’s none of my business, say so, but I was just wondering, you know?”

        Taylor swallowed the mouthful of jerky and coughed again.  “I... yeah, I guess I’m just a little bit off kilter.  I’ll get over it, I promise.  I don’t have a screw loose or anything.”  He twirled a finger alongside one temple in demonstration.

        “I never thought you did, I was just concerned.”  Stivers lifted his left arm and waved at Golden Sword, who was wandering back towards them with a bag similar to Stivers’ own but smaller in size slung alongside him.  “No offense, but whenever you get quiet and serious, I get nervous.”

        “None taken.”  Taylor spotted the approaching pony and lowered his voice.  “I’m fine, I swear.  I’m just in a funk right now.  I’ll deal with it.”  Raising his voice again, he called out to Sword.  “What’d you get, Captain?”

        “Just a little treat all of us can enjoy.”  Sword trotted up to them and smiled, a little guiltily.  “Besides, I have to admit I have a weakness for these.”  He reached up with a forehoof and pulled the bag open.

        Stivers leaned over.  “Apples?”

        “Yes.  Not dried apple slices out of a packet that was filled in Canterlot by some oat-brain who can’t tell a granny smith from a golden delicious.”  Sword fished one out and held it up proudly.  “Look at that.  Not a bruise on it.  I hoof-picked them out myself from the bin.”

        “I’ll take your word for it.  It’ll make a nice dessert after dinner.”  Stivers showed him his own pack.  “Picked up some jerky and some more canned meat for the boys.  No offense, Sword, but we have a little bit more variance in our diet than you do.”

        “You haven’t tried to gnaw my leg off yet, so I’ve got no problem there.”  The pegasus peered into Stivers’ satchel.  “Oooh, hot sauce.  Captain, I didn’t know you partook.”

        “Huh?”  Stivers suddenly remembered the impromptu party that Pinkie Pie had thrown them when they had first arrived in Ponyville. “Oh, no, this is for putting on my food, not in my drinks.”

        “How odd.”  Sword shrugged.  “To each his own, I suppose.”  He glanced around idly.  “Did you see where Midnight got off to?”

        “She headed back down that way.”  Taylor pointed.  “Oh wait, I think I see her...” He frowned.  “No, that’s not her.  Different tail.”

        “Yes, good eye, Lieutenant,” Sword said.  “That pony’s got armor on, though... how odd.”  He frowned.

        “What about it?”  Stivers looked in the direction Taylor had pointed out.  There were several ponies grouped around the jewelry stand they had passed earlier.  They all had coats of varying colors, but most of them were hidden under the plated armor Stivers had seen on all of the guards in Canterlot.  “What’s odd?”

        “That’s not standard issue armor.  It’s royal guard plate, like our own.”  Sword began trotting in that direction, and the two humans followed in his wake.  “I wonder what they’re doing here?”  Drawing near, he saw that the ponies were chatting animatedly amongst themselves, and a burst of laughter erupted from the whole group.

Having a fine time of it, whomever you are, Sword thought.  He drew up behind one of the ponies and cleared his throat.  “Excuse me.”

        “Hmm?”  The pony glanced over her shoulder at him absently.  Spying the plume on Sword’s helmet, she whirled about and drew up to attention.  “Oh, Captain!  I’m sorry sir, I didn’t know any more of our troops were here!”

        “That’s quite all right, Sergeant.  I was just wondering what you were doing here, in fact—”

“Goldie!”  The shout cut Sword off in mid-sentence as a larger pony emerged from the huddle, smiling at him in obvious delight.  “Oh this is amazing!  It’s so good to see you!”  Armourless, the pink coloration of her coat stood out prominently, as well as the multicolored swirl of her mane and tail.  Her wings flicked out to full extension in excitement, and the horn on her brow blazed forth with a silvery glow.  “What in the world are you doing all the way out here?”

        Sword stood rooted to the ground, his jaw dropping in surprise.  “Princess Cadance?”

        Shadow’s mug banged down on the table a full second ahead of Thompson’s.  “HA!  I win, you lose, you guard, I snooooooze.”

        Thompson looked at him in obvious disgust.  “I don’t know what’s more confusing.  You holding that mug with no hands, or how the hell I lost.”  He glared at the mug as if it had intentionally betrayed him.  “They must have given me more ale or something.”

        “Actually, I know what it was,” Shadow said.

        “What?”  Thompson asked.

        Shadow leaned closer, lowering his voice.  “It’s a secret.”

        Thompson leaned over as well, eyebrows lifted.  “Yeah?”

        Shadow grinned.  “You ssuuuuuuuck.”

        “Oh, you little....”  the Marine growled.

        “All right, knock it off you two.  Bet was won fair and square.”  Gallivan pointed a finger at Hoof.  “And put your leg down.  Two’s the limit tonight.”

        “Aww, c’mon, Sarge.”  Crimson Hoof adopted a pouting expression.  “I’m just getting a good buzz on, here.”

        “Yeah, and that’s all you’re getting.  A couple of beers is fine.  A couple more, and I’m gonna have a handful of drunken troops that won’t be worth a rat’s ass.”  Gallivan shook his head.  “And if Captain Stivers and Sword come back and find that, they’ll be wearing my ass for a saddlepack.”

        Gruebel snickered at the mental image of that, then frowned.  “Hey, where’s Willie at?”  The gryphon’s seat lay empty at the table, his mug still half-full of ale.

        “I think I saw him heading off to the restroom a couple of minutes ago,” Star said.  “Haven’t seen him come back yet, though.”

        “Go check on him, would you?”  Gallivan looked at the gryphon’s mug and grimaced.  “Even odds he might be in there barfing his head off.”

        “Over half a mug of beer?”  Shadow grimaced.  “Wow, what a lightweight.”

        “Well, he is just a kid, y’know.”  Gruebel glanced over and saw Hoof eyeing the mug in question.  “Watch it.  Don’t be poachin’ the kid’s suds.  He paid for all of us, after all.”  The undersized stool he was perched on creaked alarmingly as he leaned back.  “Hey, there he is.”

        William threaded his way through the crowded room back to their table and sat back down.  His features weren’t as easily readable as those of the ponies, but based on the look on his face, Gallivan would have sworn the kid was ashamed of something.  “You have to barf?”  the Marine asked bluntly.

        William twitched and looked at him with a sickly grin.  “Ah... just a li’l bit.”  He eyed the half-depleted mug in front of him with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.  “No’ tha’ I’m not appreciative or anyt’ing, but I’m not really feelin’ like finishin’ d’at right now.”

        Crimson Hoof leaned over and put a comradely foreleg around the gryphon’s shoulders.  “I’ll be happy to take that problem off your hooves.  Or claws.”  He drew the mug away from William and lifted it up, admiring the way the lamplight shone through the amber liquid within.  “Bottoms up!”  He started to take a drink and then nearly dropped the mug at a shout from behind him.

        “Thief!  tjúgari!  I’ve been robbed!”  Two tables away from them, a gryphon had kicked over his own stool and was standing, patting his belt pouches frantically.  “Someone’s made off with my till!”

        “Hoy, I saw that little alchak prancin’ about near ye a moment ago,” one of the other gryphons growled, pointing at William.  “Like as not he made off with your purse.”

        “I did not!”  William shouted.  “What in Edna’s name would makes you say somethin’ like d’at?”

        “Mayhap because yer almost knocked me over a moment ago, and now I’m missing thirty good pieces o’ gold I earned with me own claws.”  The gryphon, wider than most and apparently not used to missing any meals, stood up from searching about on the floor and glared at William.  “What were ya doin bangin’ around behind me like that, eh?”

        “Looked like he was trying to get past your fat ass to get back here from the bathroom,” Thompson snarled.  “Maybe if you suck that gut in a little people won’t run into you so much.”  He felt a warning hand from Gallivan laid on his forearm, but shook it off.  “Why you wanna pick on a friggin’ kid anyway, tubby?”

        “Tu ert oun menningar!” the gryphon replied in a thick accent.  There were several murmurs from other tables nearby, and several of the patrons began backing away from the two parties.  “Maybe you should like I pick on you instead, monkeyboy?”

        His companion stood up and eyed the odd assortment of humans, ponies and one very small gryphon at their table.  “Why do you stick up for him, nák?”  His voice was slow and halting, as if the common language the ponies used was unfamiliar to him.  “He your cousin or something?  Or you buy him at auction?”  This last caused a round of laughter to burst out from several other tables, and William hunched down reflexively at the sound.

        “Ey, look, don’ worry aboot it.  Maybe we should just scram, ey?”  William looked at Gallivan hopefully.  “Pay the res’ of our bill and le’s haul it, they can keep th’ change.”

        Gallivan eased the front legs of his stool down until it rested fully on the floor once more, never removing his eyes from the gryphons, who had begun approaching them slowly.  “I don’t think it’s gonna be that easy, short stuff...”

        Cadance cocked her head to one side and peered at Sword good-humoredly.  “You sure find some odd company to hang out with.  You going to introduce me?”

        Sword started as if somepony had pinched him from behind.  “Oh!  Oh yes, of course.  Um, Princess Cadance, these two fellows are Captain Stivers and Lieutenant Taylor.”  He nodded at each of the humans in turn.  “They’re companions of ours at the moment.”

        “‘Captain?’  ‘Lieutenant?’”  Cadance craned her head up slightly to take in Stivers’ tall form.  “Are you getting desperate to meet a recruiting quota in Canterlot or something?”

        “Hardly, ma’am.”  Stivers chuckled.  “It’s kind of tough to explain on short notice.  I guess you could say we’re part of an...involuntary exchange program.”

        “You can say that again.”  Taylor glanced at the tall, lithe form of the princess.  “So, um, are you related to Celestia or something?”

        “Short answer?  Yes.  But, like you said, it’s kind of tough to explain on short notice.”  Cadance glanced back at Sword.  “What are you doing here?  I tried to get Miss Arrow to explain it to me, but she told me I’d have to ask you about it.”

        Midnight stepped forward, pushing her way past two of the other guard ponies belonging to Cadance’s detail.  “Yes, I did.  I’m sorry, Princess, but it really wasn’t my place to say.”

        “She’s quite right,” Sword said hurriedly.  “And, if you’ll forgive me, Princess, it’s not a subject we should go into in public.”

        “Sure, I know how that works.”  Cadance shrugged, the movement making her multicolored mane billow out before settling once more.  “I get that from Shining Armor a lot more, lately.”  Her voice dropped a bit.  “He’s so much more serious now that he’s been promoted... half the time, I hardly get to see him for more than five minutes.”

        “The general’s duties are demanding,” Midnight offered diplomatically.  “I’m sure he tries to spend as much time with you as he can.”

        “Oh he does, don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, not really.”  Cadance brightened again.  “That’s why I’m here, actually.  I was looking around for a present or two to pick up for him before I head back home in the morning.”

        “You’re heading back home?”  Sword’s voice was slightly wistful.  “When do you leave?”

        “In the morning at first light, with a trade caravan from Canterlot.  It’s why I was sent here.”  Cadance turned and began heading back toward the nearby vendor’s stall.  “Princess Celestia asked me to come and help out with some trade negotiations a few weeks ago, and I’ve been here trying to help both sides talk instead of argue.”  She turned and offered them a wry grin.  “The boring, undramatic side of being a member of the royal court, unfortunately.”

        “We all serve in our own way,” Sword agreed.

        “Speaking of negotiations,” Cadance said, stopping in front of the jewelry stand once more.  “I was looking at that diamond brooch set, but the price is simply ridiculous.”

        “It is not!”  the gryphon vendor replied, his beak clacking in indignation.  “I gathered some of these pieces with my own two claws.  I stake my reputation on my wares, and I assure you, ma’am, my prices are fair.  Indeed, I’m starving my nestlings to give this away for the price I quoted you!”

        “I’m sure,” Cadance replied in a dry tone.  “Hmm.  I don’t think it would really go with anything I have, however—”

        “Oh, ma’am, your own radiance is raiment enough.  No garment would do you... or that brooch... enough justice.  But the two of you go together perfectly!”

        “This guy’s layin’ it on so thick, he’ll need a knife to spread it,” Taylor muttered.

        Midnight snickered at that, and the sound caught the vendor’s attention.  “And how about you, miss?  Perhaps this particular adornment catches your eye instead?”

        “Oh, no no no,” Midnight stammered, beginning to back away.  “I, I couldn’t.  I don’t have any money with me, and besides, it would clash with the armor, you know.”

        “Oh don’t be silly,” Cadance laughed.  “That stuff’s coloured golden and that’s about all it’s got going for it.”  She peered at the pegasus, clearly enjoying herself.  “See anything you like?  Go on, at least try something on while you’re here.”

        “No, really, it’s okay, I—”

        “Lieutenant, I am telling you as a royal princess of Canterlot, I am not budging from this spot until you do a little browsing.”  Cadance tried her best to perform a glower, but failed.  “C’mon, it won’t hurt you.”

        “Well...okay, I suppose.  Maybe one thing.”  A light rosette blush appeared on Midnight’s cheeks as she looked at the glittering display before her.  “I really have no idea what to even try though; I usually don’t go in for jewelry.”  She waved a forehoof in the air absently.  “It clatters on your armor and catches on things and gets in the way.”

        “Girl, you need to get out more.”  Cadance patted her on the shoulder and watched as Midnight looked at one necklace for a moment, and then stopped at a pair of small sapphire earrings.  “Uh-oh, I think we have a winner!”

        “Maybe those?”  Midnight indicated the earrings with a jerk of her chin.  “I’d like to try them on for just a second—”

        “Allow me, madam.”  The gryphon behind the display case opened it up and whisked the earrings out in one smooth motion.  “They’re small, true, but quite startling, and would suit you well, I think.”

        Midnight stood quietly, letting him fasten the earrings to the outer edge of each of her ears, each touch of his claws setting them flicking rapidly.  Her ears were unpierced; the earrings were cunningly designed to clip and hold onto the edge of an ear without pinching.

        “Ticklish, much?”  Cadance said, giggling.  “Say, those don’t look half bad on you, dear.”

        “You think so?”  The gryphon held up a hand mirror, and Midnight peered into it, frowning.  “Well... I guess so.  I don’t know.  I was just curious, anyway.”

        “You’re doing it wrong.”  Taylor stepped forward and lifted Midnight’s helmet away in one smooth motion, tucking it under an arm.  “Now try it.”

        “What?  I don’t....”  The pegasus flicked her head reflexively at the missing weight of the golden helm, the ebony sheaf of her forelock and mane falling free and curling to one side of her face.  She peered into the mirror again and gasped, as if trying to reconcile the fact that the image she saw didn’t belong to some other pony.  “Wow... that’s... really nice.”

        “Nice?  Lieutenant, you look gorgeous.”  Cadance stood to one side, eyeing Midnight anew.  “Girl, if you don’t get those, I’m going to have your captain lock you up or something.  Half the colts in Canterlot should be chasing you by now.”

        Midnight’s cheeks were a brilliant crimson at this point.  “Th-Thank you, Princess, but I really can’t afford them.  We only have a little money and we have to be careful about what we get, and I can’t spend it on selfish things like this.”

        “I said you need to get those.  I didn’t say you had to buy them.”  Cadance nodded at one of her guards, and he stepped forward, unslinging a heavy pouch.  “My treat.”

        “What?  I can’t.... I...” Midnight trailed off, her jaw agape.

        “I just said you can, and technically, I’m in charge here, I think.”  Cadance’s eyes twinkled merrily as the guard paid off the eager gryphon.  “Consider it a gift from one friend to another.”

        “I... thank you, Princess.”  Midnight unclipped the earrings and looked at them for a moment, two sapphire teardrops, each one clasped in a delicate filigree of silver.  They seemed to burn and glimmer with their own inner light as she held them up with a forehoof, turning them this way and that.  “They’re lovely.”

        “Those look good on you,” Taylor chuckled.  “You make ‘em walk and talk, Midnight.”

        The pegasus looked at him with a meek expression.  “Can I have my helmet back?” she asked in a small voice.

        “Huh?  Oh, sure, sorry.”  Taylor buffed the golden armor with his sleeve before handing it back to her.  “That thing’s pretty heavy.  It’d drive me nuts having to wear that all the time.”

        “I guess I’m just used to it.”  Midnight pocketed the earrings, placing them carefully in the small pouch alongside the remaining coins from her homeland.  She swept her forelock back with a forehoof and settled her helmet back in place with one deft motion.

        Stivers laughed.  “Feel better?”

        “Oh yes.”  Midnight smiled at them all, her expression relieved.  “I feel like me again.  Thank you, Princess Cadance.”  She bowed gracefully, one foreleg tucked underneath her.  “I’ll treasure your gift always.”

        “Midnight, it’s just a pair of earrings.  You’re really what makes them shine.”  Cadance smiled and glanced at the others.  “Isn’t that right?”

        “You said it.”  Taylor flapped his hands aimlessly.  “See, if I put those on, I’d get nothing.  You put them on, bammo, you got all the action.”

        Stivers snorted at that.  “Taylor, if you put a pair of those on, I’d almost pay to see the reaction from the other guys.”

        “Don’t be jealous,” the lieutenant said smoothly.  “You’re the one that gets all the drunken gryphon ladies in the streets chasing you.  Or falling over you.  Did you get her phone number while you were at it?”

        “Aaannnnd we’re back to normal,” Sword said.  “It’s quite all right, Princess,” he added, seeing her expression at this interplay.  “This is pretty much what passes for normality for us these days.”

        “I see.  I almost wish I didn’t have to go back home...it’d be worth spending a few days out in the wild just to see you guys being...normal.”  Cadance smiled, but her eyes were troubled, her gaze fixed on the two humans before her.  The horn on her brow glimmered with a faint radiance for a moment as she looked at Midnight, then it faded slowly.  “Still, it’s been good seeing you again, Goldie.”

“Goldie?” Taylor repeated.  “Am I missing something, here?”

        “The princess and I are of an age.  We used to go to school together when we were little,” Sword said in a resigned tone.  “It’s just a friendly nickname.  And before you even get started on that, I suggest we head back and collect the rest of our group.  I think we’ve left them unattended long enough.”

        “Would you mind if I came with you?”  Cadance signaled to her guard detail and waited as they gathered up their things.  “I’d like to see the others in your group if you don’t mind.”  She offered a smile to Stivers and Taylor.  “You’re all just so... different.”

        “Thanks... I think?”  Taylor glanced down at himself reflexively.

        “You’re not worried about them, are you, sir?”  Midnight fell into step as they began heading back toward the drinks pavilion near the entrance to the cavern.

        “No, not really,” Sword said.  “You know me though, Lieutenant.  I like to keep an eye on things, is all.  I’m sure they’re just fine.”

        “Yeah, the kid is with us, and he’s no thief,” Gruebel snarled.  “He’s... an exchange student.  Studying other cultures.  You know, trying to get smarter.”  He studiously ignored the look Star shot at him.  “You might wanna try doing the same thing, if you have any brains in that sack of shit slung on top of your shoulders.”

        One of the burlier of the griffons stepped forward, apparently the leader of the small assembled group. “Listen Arkadashim, You don’t want to hang around this alchak. He is bad business.”

        Gruebel blinked at that.  “What did you call me??”

        “Buddy.  Pal.  Friend.”  The senior bartender had walked over and was eyeing the situation warily from behind the security of his bar.  “I think he’s trying to do you a favor.  Do me one and take this mess outside, eh?  I’m still not done making the payments on this place.”

        “Nák, I got no quarrel with big pale fellow, hee?  Just want to get my brother’s money back, maybe teach little gryphon lesson or two about stealing, we all fine.”

        Thompson stood up and wavered unsteadily for a moment before fixing the leader of the other group in his gaze.  “Why don’t you go pound some sand up your ass and build a sandcastle?  You wanna teach somebody a lesson, you can start with me.”  Gruebel stood up as well, and the two Marines moved to block William behind them.

        Gallivan put a palm out and seized Thompson’s arm with a firm grip.  “Hold up, Howie.  Don’t—”

        The gryphon seemed to shrug.  “Ask nice first, me.  Not ask again.”  His group of companions all stood as well, and there was a sudden gleam of steel in the lamplight.  “Take money back now, talk later.”

        “Oh, horseapples,” Star muttered.  The pegasus grabbed for his spear and quickly backed away towards the others, raising his voice to a shout.  “Knife!”

Someone screeched, and then every table around the humans emptied with startling rapidity.  The bartender ducked down, eyes wide, and peered over the rim of the wooden counter.  “No blades!  No blades!”

Crimson Hoof and Gruebel drew the short stabbing sword each carried at his side and spread out, giving themselves room to swing.  Gallivan moved up to Shadow and the two created a living wall in front of William.

        “Flat of the blade,” Hoof said.  “Try not to kill them if you can.  They’re drunk.”

        Gallivan snorted.  “And you’re not?”

        “Not even close.”  Hoof grinned unpleasantly at the gryphons across from them.  “C’mon sunshine, come dance with me.”

        The burly gryphon and his companions hesitated, clearly reassessing the situation.  Their attempt to intimidate the strangers had backfired, and the gryphons only carried small knives suitable for self-defense.  The ponies and the tall creatures were clearly well armed and probably capable of hurting him and his companions badly, but there was money involved, and few things spark a gryphon’s desire more than gold.  Especially if it’s actually his gold.

        “Tu alchak tjúgari,” he snarled at William.  “Take my payment out of your hide, me.”

        Shining Star crouched low, ready to aim a thrust at the gryphon as he prepared to charge, when a bright silver light flashed throughout the entire room.  The pegasus staggered, blinking his watering eyes rapidly as he looked up.  Both groups had stumbled back from each other and were looking at each other as if they’d just walked into a room of strangers.

        “I’d really appreciate it if you all didn’t start hacking away at each other.  That might make things a little difficult to explain when I get back home.”  As her escort fanned out to cover the gryphons, Cadance trotted up to Gallivan’s table, stopping and glancing at Sword with a wry grin.  “These belong to you, I presume?”

        “Unfortunately, I have to say yes,” Sword said tightly.  “Sergeant, would you mind explaining just what in the hoof is going on here?”

        “Um... just a little difference of opinion, sir.”  Gallivan straightened up and tweezed the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger.  “Damn, what the hell was that flash of light?  I feel like someone dumped a bucket of icewater over my head.”

        “And it might have done you a lot of good,” growled Stivers.  He walked up and surveyed the room.  “Difference of opinion?  Over what, for Christ’s sake?”

        Taylor made a clucking noise with his tongue.  “Sarge, I told you never to argue baseball scores with gryphons.  Besides, you know they don’t like Hank Aaron.”

        Gallivan shook himself and eyed the group of gryphons warily before turning to face the officers.  “One of the featherheads over there lost his cash, and decided Willie was to blame.  The kid had to go past them to get to the bathroom, and they thought he pinched their loot or something.”  He shook his head.  “Hell, Captain, you saw the kid’s haul when we got here.  He don’t need to swipe any cash.”

        Cadance made a slight hissing sound.  “That’s not good.  Gryphons are very... partial... to their money.”  She stepped forward once more, the horn on her brow ablaze with light.  “Did any one of you see him take it?” she asked the gryphons.

        There was some muttering and shuffling of feathers for a moment.  “No,” the burly leader finally admitted.  “Not see him take it, me.  Is my brother’s money.  He say little hatchling take his coin, I no ask questions, hee?”

        “Well, I felt him bump my chair when he went by,” the portly gryphon said.  “When I went to get my purse, it was gone.  I know I had it when I came in here.”

        “Are you sure you didn’t drop it or something?”  Stivers glanced around on the floor, then noted with amusement that everyone almost immediately followed suit, even the princess.  They all scanned the room for several moments, ducking their heads and looking under the tables.

        “Tallyho, I spy with my little eye.”  Taylor stood up, walked several steps over to where the gryphons stood and bent down.  He stood up with a small leather pouch in one hand, its sadly flabby state declaring its emptiness at once.

        “Oy, that was me whole day’s earnin’s!”  The rotund gryphon moaned and clapped a wing across his brow dramatically.  “Someone made off with my arçiliks!”

        “Lost money....”  Taylor shrugged.  “If you dropped it, chances are it’s long gone.  Whoever found it probably drank it up already.”

        “Yar, I know it was that little alchak, he was in here a few days back tryin’ to cadge drinks from every beak in the place.”  The gryphon scowled and made as if to step toward William, and the room was suddenly filled again with the bright silver flash.

        Taylor leaned back against the low bar woozily, shaking his head.  “What in the hell is that?”

        “I don’t know,” said the bartender in a dreamy voice from behind him.  “It’s nice, though.  You want a drink on the house?”

        Taylor glanced over his shoulder to see the gryphon behind the bar leaning across it almost drunkenly, a goofy smile spread over his face.  “Uh, no thanks.  Why don’t you have it for me instead?”

        “That’s a great idea.”  The bartender stood up and wobbled off, heading toward the ale casks at the other end of the bar.  Taylor watched him for a moment before turning back around.  “What the heck’s goin’ on?”

        “Princess Cadance has her own special talent, just like every other pony.”  Midnight walked up beside Taylor and regarded the alicorn with something akin to religious awe.  “She spreads love wherever she can.  Or at least in this case, she can keep ponies from being angry at one another, at least for a little while.”

        “You’ve got to be kidding me... nevermind.  I keep forgetting I’m not in Kansas anymore.”  Taylor shook his head and then raised his voice.  “Hey, since we’ve solved the great missing money mystery, what do you say we get the hell out of here, Sword?”

        “Fine by me.”  The armour-clad stallion favored Crimson Hoof with a withering glance.  “Have the troops fall in outside.  And try not to mess this little task up, hmm?”

        “Yes sir.”  Hoof glanced nervously back at the gryphons and then began leading the group outside.  They fell in single-file, the combination of ale and Cadance’s magic making the line something less than perfectly straight as they wended their way out into the main thoroughfare once more.  Once there, they lined up as if on a parade ground and waited as the officers came back out to them.

        “Well, quite a fine mess,” Sword growled.  “For your information, the princess is inside, paying the gryphon enough to get him to quit squalling about thieves in our midst, as well as settling the rest of your bill.”

        “Whoa, captain,” Gallivan spoke up.  “We didn’t run a tab; William paid for all of our drinks.”

        “Did he, now?”  Sword threw the little gryphon a particularly venomous look.  “Next time you decide to purchase something for my men, might I suggest candy, or something a little less intoxicating?  That could have turned ugly in short order had we not gotten back in time.”  He looked back at Gallivan.  “And getting yourselves soused and indulging in a bar fight is not what I had in mind for relaxation!”

        “Captain, it was my responsibility.”  Gallivan shrugged.  “The boys just needed to blow off some steam.  They didn’t get drunk, and we didn’t start anything, that tubby gryphon in there is the one that started the whole mess.”

        “I don’t want to hear it.”  Sword saw Cadance emerging from the tavern and lowered his voice.  “Right.  Well, I suggest you thank the princess and bid her farewell.  We need to find someplace to bed down for the night and get an early start in the morning.”

        Cadance walked up to Sword and regarded him with a humorous look.  “Do I need to use my magic again, or are you done shouting at them?”

        “I did not shout.”  Sword clenched his jaw.  “I stated facts.  Emphatically.”

        “Right.”  Cadance glanced over at the others as they stood lined up in clear postures of attention.  “That’s why they’re standing there like a cockatrice just gave them the evil eye.”  The princess paused for a moment, glancing over at the officers one more time, her eyes resting on Taylor for one long moment.  “Well then.  I guess this is goodbye.  I have to be heading out in the morning...I wish we had time to stay up and chat a bit.”

        “We’ve got to be leaving early too,” Stivers said.  “Look, it’s been nice meeting you, princess.  Thanks for the help with the mess in there.”

        “Of course, it’s what I do.”  She laughed.  “You made a boring evening very interesting.  Take care of yourselves.  When you get back home, I want to hear about everything else you run into.”

        “You got a deal, Your Highness.”  Taylor made an awkward bow.  “Don’t take any wooden nickels.”

        “I suppose I ought to ask you to do the same.  And take care of yourselves.  I want to see all of you when you get back, okay?”  Cadance shook her head, her smile fading.  “I had a large escort for a reason.  The mountains aren’t safe, and it’s not always gryphons you need to look out for.”  She drew Sword into an awkward hug, and then turned and headed off down the street.

        The group stood for a moment, watching her head off with her escort in tow, and then turned and headed in the opposite direction towards a grouping of several large wooden houses that had unrealistically comfortable looking beds carved into their advertising signboards.

On the other side of the street, another group stood silently, watching from the shadows.