Cheerilee looked towards a group of ponies that was idling in front of a run-down building. Some of them were smoking, others were entertaining themselves with a deck of cards. She was perched on top of a tall apartment complex across the street, silent and motionless. It was a little before midnight, which usually meant that the darker side of Manehatten was waking up. She knew what group the ponies she was watching belonged to, and she knew what they were planning. Cheerilee would only have to play the waiting game, a game she had become exceedingly good at over the course of the past few weeks. The moment of quiet allowed her mind to wander.

Her first few nights as Mare Do Well had been quiet. Lack of experience and knowledge of common scenes made finding actual crime to fight difficult. Yet with each successful bust, she learned. She discovered certain routines, habits, and even hideouts. As time progressed she found herself able to anticipate certain actions her opponents would resort to. Eventually there wasn’t a night when Mare Do Well didn’t leave some low-life with bruises and a bloodied muzzle.

She became something of an urban legend. Because she only worked at night ponies weren’t sure of her existence, and those that got a good clear look were usually in panic or recipients of her hooves. Some of the more amusing speculations had recently reached her ears. According to those stories, she was an undead guardian, Nightmare Moon’s redeemed spirit or a giant crow that was looking for injustice to punish. Ponies with their head on straight gladly dismissed the rumors of some sort of violent guardian angel. Until the photograph.

To combat crime more effectively, Cheerilee purchased a subscription to every newspaper that would deliver to her apartment. She paid particular attention to reports of abductions and disappearances that still plagued Manehatten, but generally kept any information of criminal activity at close hoof. It was this way that she discovered a crafty reporter had witnessed one of her escapades. Her masked mug was displayed in most of the major newspapers as she was in combat with a group of gangsters. Headlines like ‘masked vigilante spotted’, ‘Manehatten’s new hero’, and ‘small town prank finds way to Manehatten’ showed her that public opinion was hardly unified. One thing was certain, however. She was no longer an urban legend. Mare Do Well was a known fact.

This also meant that Manehatten’s underworld was now fully aware of her. She had expected to make enemies, and had in fact already made several crime bosses very unhappy, but Cheerilee didn’t expect to find every low life in the city arrayed against her in such a short amount of time. The result meant a drastic change in tactics. She needed to work harder to maintain the element of surprise, which meant she was starting to rely on gadgets more and more. Using Zecora’s lessons as a solid foundation, Cheerilee had begun developing several tools that would help her continue her work. Smoke bombs, flashbangs and stun darts now adorned her belt, easily accessible to give her the edge she was going to need in a fight.

A mixed blessing was the fact that her targets began to seek her out in an attempt to ambush her. Ranging from poorly laid traps to intricate schemes, she now had to cope with the fact that ponies were actively trying to get rid of her. Magic had been their first solution. The memory of the look of terror on one unfortunate unicorn’s face as his spell fizzled harmlessly brought a smirk to Cheerilee’s face. Her hoof briefly brushed the amulet across her neck.

She also had to adjust to the fact that criminals began to move their hideouts. It was like a crooked, intricate contest between gangs and herself, to see how long they could hide before she discovered them. All in all, she was the subject of fear and anger for most of Manehatten’s lowlifes. To ensure her safety she needed to keep up appearances, which meant keeping her job in the box factory. This meant that her days usually consisted of working, sleeping, and roaming the rooftops as Mare Do Well. Fortunately, none of her coworkers cared to ask about the frequent cuts and bruises that recently adorned her body.

Then there were, of course, the authorities. Opinions expressed by the Manehatten guard corps ranged from ‘nuisance’ to ‘dangerous lunatic’. The kindest she ever heard from the mouth of an official was ‘an unpredictable but useful tool’. But despite the harsh criticism displayed in public, the guard was generally happy to let Mare Do Well do as she please. On a particular night she found herself face to face with a unit of guards just after she had beaten down a pair of robbers. Instead of taking her in, they just watched with raised eyebrows and waited for her to leave, before picking up the crooks and going on their way. While she received no outright support, it was good to know the guards were able to distinguish when they were being helped. That, or they realized it wouldn’t be a good idea to try and arrest a mare who makes a hobby out of fighting dangerous criminals, and wins.

Cheerilee was snapped from her thoughts when the group of ponies was joined by a newcomer who made a motion with her hoof, which caused the group to spring into action. Cheerilee assumed she was the one in charge. Due to the poor illumination in the street she couldn’t make out the pony’s features, but from the looks of her gait the mare had some kind of trouble walking. She made a mental note to use that to her advantage as she jumped to the next rooftop to start the chase. Two of the ponies buckled themselves into the harness of a carriage, making off in a different direction. Cheerilee cursed inwardly, but quickly decided to follow the group led by the mare that seemed to be in charge.

*****

The chase through the city had been difficult. It was clear that whatever the group was doing, they didn’t want to be seen doing it. They took advantage of dark, narrow alleys, twists and turns, and even split up a couple of times. Several times, Cheerilee found herself worried that she was going to lose track of the main group, but each time she managed to identify the mare with the strange gait and pick up the trail of what she thought was the lead group. They came to the very edge of the city, where Cheerilee perched herself on one of the lower buildings, peeking over the edge of the roof. The rattling of wheels on pavement announced the arrival of the carriage that had split off earlier. The entire group now stood in front of a concrete building the likes of which weren’t uncommon in Manehatten, but stood out amongst the older, brick buildings that surrounded it. She noticed several spotlights on the roof that were turned off.

The mare in charge said something, but Cheerilee couldn’t make out the words. She looked around for a better vantage point. She saw a support beam on a nearby building, cloaked in shadow, that she could hang on to by using her climber claws. It would be uncomfortable, but she would have a much better vantage point to see and hear the proceedings of the group below while remaining unseen.

“-Carriage. I want to be sure we can make a quick getaway.” The mare spoke. Her voice carried a slight rasp.
Cheerilee narrowed her eyes as she could now distinguish the mare’s features. It was a unicorn, her face adorned with several piercings. Cheerilee had only seen her once before, but it was enough to burn the unicorn’s likeness into her memory. She hadn’t forgotten the paralysis spell, the abuse, or the pleading mare that she so eagerly tortured. Back then she had no training. Now, the tables had turned.

She tilted her head slightly. Earlier she had noticed the mare’s unusual walk, but now saw that her face repeatedly contorted in a nervous twitch as well. In fact, her entire body seemed to spasm periodically. Even though Cheerilee was at a disadvantage when it came to numbers, she knew it would be easy to cut off the head this time. Her eyes fell on a stallion as he began speaking.

“Seriously, would you cut it out? Boss adjusted the guard’s patrol schedule. We won’t be bothered tonight. This is going to be easy.”

The pierced mare turned towards the speaker and snapped. “Even if we aren’t going to be bothered by any official authorities, it doesn’t mean we aren’t going to get bothered at all. I hate to burst your bubble, but he doesn’t control everything. Ma-“

“Mare Do Well is going to pop out of a cloud of smoke and hand our flanks to us,” the stallion interrupted, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Yeah, I read the papers. So she busted a few amateurs, big deal. We have three unicorns and several hoof-to-hoof combat specialists, including an ex-royal guard.” He grinned smugly. “Even if she shows up, she won’t stand a chance. We put the kiddo’s in the carriage and we bust this joint. Bam. Job well done.”

The pierced mare’s expression became furious. Her spasms seemed to grow in frequency, and her horn started spluttering with barely contained magic. “D-don’t make me angry, Stiff Drink. Remember who’s in charge here. We’re doing this my way. Now get the foals out here.”

Cheerilee clenched her jaw. Overhearing the conversation had given her an idea of the situation, and it wasn’t looking good. She could count the unicorns as an advantage. If they didn’t know she had an amulet that protected her from magic, they were in for a nasty surprise. However, if they really had hoof-to-hoof specialists amongst them she would be in for a tough fight, especially with the mentioned ex-royal guard.

Most cities usually employed civilians for their guard forces and put them through a training program involving basic combat. The royal guards of Canterlot, however, were another story entirely. Because they were tasked with the safety of some of the most important ponies in all of Equestria, including—but not limited to—the two princesses, they underwent rigorous training involving many combat techniques that would turn a pony into a groaning mess in a matter of seconds.

Then there was the last matter, sending a cold shiver down Cheerilee’s spine. Hostages. Foal hostages. Whatever these people were doing, it had to end, but Cheerilee wasn’t ready to deal with collateral damage, especially when that would mean children might get hurt.

Any hope that the mention of foals might have been a codename for something else was squashed when a group of ponies was escorted out of the building. The foals looked scruffy and unwashed, with grim looks on their faces and cloth gags in their muzzles. Their hooves were locked in manacles and chains. Some of them were crying, and most others looked like they had recently run out of tears. A chunk of ice formed in Cheerilee’s stomach at the sight. She had to act. Now.

Reaching for a belt, she dislodged one of the flashbangs she recently started to employ, tossing it into the middle of the group. Immediately after, she dislodged herself from the support beam and began her descent. Once she was certain of her shot, she jumped down and landed on one of the ponies standing on guard.

“Boo.”

Chaos erupted around her. The group of foals started screaming through their gags. Some of the crooks were rubbing their eyes, trying to get their bearings after the flashbang. Others were either looking for the source of the commotion, or had found it and were locking their eyes on her.

“Damn it, she’s here! Get the bitch!,” the pierced mare screamed while rubbing her eyes. Apparently she had been looking towards the blast as well. She dodged a sizzling bolt of light blue energy from one of the other unicorns. Though the amulet would have protected her from the hit, she felt it was best not to make her adversaries aware of her advantage yet.

Cheerilee jumped, making her way towards the group of foals. She dodged the blow of a lithe Pegasus mare, bringing up her own hoof for a blow to the muzzle. She found her strike blocked by a swift hoof. The Pegasus grinned, spinning around and aiming a kick that Cheerilee was able to dodge. Though the Pegasus wasn’t an exceptional fighter, Cheerilee definitely noticed the training behind her movements. She wasn’t able to knock her adversary down, and had to get out of the way to pay attention to the other ponies that were starting to bear down on her. Cheerilee briefly turned to the foals.

“RUN!” She could barely say the word before being forced to roll out of the way of another magic missile. While on her back, she was able to kick up and connect her hind hooves with the jaw of a pony that was unlucky enough to stand above her, knocking him out cold.

His friends weren’t so easily deterred, however. Making some distance between herself and her adversaries, she managed to reach for her belt and aim a dart towards one of the ponies. A Pegasus stallion caught the dart in his neck with a look of surprise on his face before falling unconscious.

A pair of big gray forelegs managed to wrap themselves around her and almost pin her down. She narrowly managed to squirm through an opportunity to escape, losing her hat in the process. The retaliatory blows she dished out were easily matched by her adversary. That would be the ex-royal guard.

In her peripheral vision she noticed that several ponies were trying to get around to flank her. She realized that she was running out of room to maneuver, and the ex-royal guard was closing in on her. Another bolt of energy soared past her head. Her eyes narrowed as an idea started to form in her head.

Another magic missile came for her, but instead of ducking out of the way, Cheerilee let it hit her full in the chest. She let out a pained grunt and sunk to her haunches. Carefully she slid her hoof down towards her belt and waited. Her mask proved to be valuable for more than just hiding her identity, allowing her to keep her eyes open and wait for the ponies to approach her. She could see the guard looking unsure, and she let out another pained grunt for good measure.

That seemed enough to convince him. He let down his guard, a smirk appearing on his lips as he approached her. She felt herself being lifted on the stallion’s back to be carried, at which point she jabbed the poison dart she was holding into his withers. With a grunt, he fell to the ground. Wasting no time, she used the moment of surprise to spin around, delivering a series of swift kicks to the other ponies that had approached in the meantime.

Though the barrage of magic missiles resumed their stinging, they were rendered harmless by the amulet around her neck. She turned to look at the carriage. The stallion called Stiff Drink was roughly guiding the screaming and panicking foals towards the carriage, cramming them inside. Some of them were trying to wobble away, but they were quickly lifted back in the magical aura of the pierced unicorn mare. Cheerilee let out a cry of rage, before charging. The unicorn began to power her horn, her face twitching and limbs spasming. Cheerilee continued her charge, knowing her amulet would protect her from the spell.

Except it didn’t. As the bolt hit her, she was sent flying by a blast that knocked the wind from her lungs. She grunted in pain as her body collided with the wall of a building, and once again as she hit the ground. With effort, she lifted her head to see the mare screaming orders as the last of the panicking foals was packed into the carriage. She got to her legs, trying to give chase, but she found herself drained of energy. Her hooves stung fiercely each time she put her weight down on them, sapping her strength with each step. She sunk to her haunches in defeat. They were gone.

*****

When she was a little more comfortable with moving, she went to retrieve her hat. She saw one of the pony thugs trying to crawl away. Within seconds Cheerilee was on him, pressing her forehoof into the stallion’s neck.

“Where did they go?!,” she growled. The stallion mumbled incoherently in return. Cheerilee turned him around on his back, shaking him by the shoulders.

“I asked you a question! Where did they go?!”

Instead of providing a reply, the stallion’s mouth began to foam. His eyes bulged out of their sockets, and a strained breath left his swelling throat. After gurgling for a moment, he stopped breathing, his blue lips covered in froth.

Cheerilee swore. Poison capsules. Who in Tartaros are these guys?

As she sat down, she brought one of her hooves to her neck, feeling the amulet hidden underneath the fabric of her suit. She frowned as she tried to figure out why it didn’t work. It had functioned just fine throughout the entire fight, and she didn’t recall Zecora mentioning the amulet would run out of energy at some point. Perhaps she forgot to mention that little detail?

Cheerilee looked around again. She was going to have to make sure the guard would come to pick these up before they woke up, to make sure they couldn’t use the poison capsules that the rest of them no doubt had. One of her ears twitched. There was a sound of breathing somewhere behind her. She spun around, facing a ragged stallion standing in the entrance of an alley a little away. He had a green coat with a light brown mane. There was a tattered bowler on his head, and a filthy scarf was wrapped around his neck. He spoke with a breathy voice as he approached her.

“You’re stronger than I remember.”

Cheerilee, glad for her mask hiding her facial expression, tried to keep her voice neutral in her reply. “We never met.”

“Sure we did,” the stallion replied. He flashed her a grin, showing off his brown teeth. “Only last time you were the one left beaten bloody in an alley. I remember your coat. And your hooves.” He walked past her, checking out one of the unconscious mares, lowering his snout to lick at her hooves. Cheerilee cringed inwardly at the display.

“She has nice hooves,” the tramp continued. “Not as nice as yours, though.”

“You’re being delusional,” Cheerilee grunted in return.

“No. I remember you. I remember everypony I smell. I remember the pierced one too. She was there, that night. I think she has nice hooves. Not as nice as yours, though.” He gave her another grin.

Despite her disgust with the figure before her, she couldn’t help but be impressed at his nose. Not to mention his memory. Regardless of his ragged exterior, she recognized the look he was giving her. Aside from plainly checking her out, his body language suggested he had a proposal.

“Is there a point to this?,” Cheerilee asked, deciding to hear him out without making her interest too clear.

“I know where she is. The pierced one. You want to know, yes? I saw you ask that pony. I could tell you.”

Cheerilee sat silent for a moment, processing the information before making a calculated reply. “But you won’t.”

“No. I won’t.”

“Why?”

The stallion chuckled, though it sounded more like balking. “Because I want something in return.”

“And what would that be?”

The tramp locked his eyes on hers, or at least on the eye sockets of the mask, as he spoke. “You. It’s been a while, you see. And it’s so much nicer when they’re awake.”

Cheerilee didn’t have to wonder what the stallion implied. She grit her teeth and lunged forward, tackling the tramp and placing the spikes of her climber claw on his throat. “Give me one reason not to beat you bloody until you tell me where she is?”

“Because she’s never in one place. None of them are. I could tell you where she is now, but she might not be there once you get there.”

Cheerilee frowned. In the distance, she could make out the sound of approaching sirens. Seems there was no need to inform the authorities. Instead, she had to wrap this up quick and get out. “What about the foals? Can you guide me to them?”

“I am quite sorry about what happened with the foals,” he said, his voice dripping with insincerity, “but their scent isn’t strong enough for me to follow. Besides, what use would I have for it? I don’t swing that way.”

Cheerilee stomped the stallion in the stomach, if only for that remark. “Tomorrow. Eight o’ clock, my place.”

The stallion grinned, once again baring his brown teeth. “Smart choice. And where would this place of yours be?”

“If your nose is as good as you say it is, you should have no problems figuring that out. Consider it a test.” It was an insignificant victory, but it felt good nonetheless. She looked up at the sky. Though it was never truly dark in Manehatten, she could see that the sun would be rising soon. She had been up longer than she expected. Good thing it’s Saturday.

Jumping and climbing, she made her way to the rooftops. Though she was relatively far from home, she was fast, and it wasn’t long before she slid open the window to her apartment and slipped inside, closing it behind her.

Only to face two sets of eyes, one of which concealed behind purple sunglasses.

Crap.

Author's Note

Due to increasing college activity, updates might be a little slower. Doesn't mean I'm going to give up on this story, though, especially since we're getting to a part that I'm very much looking forward to. I know how the story is going to go, and I know how it's going to end. Bear with me, everypony!