Curse of Coltinado

by Feather Scratch

Rating: teen
Tags: Daring Do, Spitfire, Adventure, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 34931

Side story to DiveBomb's epic Riflepony series.

Taking place between "Treasure of the West" and "Colt of the West" and before "The Golden Armor."
Daring Do, Artemis and Angel Beats journey to the Frozen North to follow up on the death of Equestria's greatest detective only to find themselves pulled into the age old mystery he had been investigating.

Reading DiveBomb's Riflepony series and Comet Burst's "The Golden Armor" beforehand is highly recommended.

Cover art by DiveBomb.

Published 2013-02-17 18:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2014-05-25 22:38:09 UTC

Chapter One- Bitter News and Broken Hearts

Curse of Coltinado
Chapter One: Bitter News and Broken Hearts

By Feather Scratch

A peal of thunder rolled through the jagged mountains of the Frozen North. Towering black storm clouds blanketed the sky, suffocating any natural light the moon and stars could provide. A biting wind shrieked through the myriad peaks with the rage of a land that had never felt a summer’s warmth and, on the weather worn streets of a lonely town nestled in the shadow of a looming rock face, a single pony ran for his life.

Clicking a rapid, steady rhythm on the slick cobbles the brown Earth Pony galloped as fast as his aged legs would carry him. The heavy clouds and torrential rain made it almost impossible to even see the ground under his hooves, let alone the street ahead, but at each twist and turn he deftly swerved, meeting the unseen obstacles without missing a beat.

Another wave of thunder boomed across the sky. The pony skidded to a halt and turned his gaze to the street he had just come down. He willed his eyes to pierce the curtain of rain that hid the world so persistently from view. His erect ears swivelled restlessly trying to sift through the chaos of the storm. There had been another sound, hidden behind the thunder. It was so faint that the untrained ear would have missed it entirely but the keen senses of the Earth Pony had caught it. Flapping leather?

Ignoring the protests of his burning lungs the pony redoubled his efforts. He was approaching the outskirts of the town where the train station was situated. He needed to escape. He was in over his head and needed to find help.

A small smile crossed his face as the granite arch that marked the town’s main gate came into view. Almost there.

His relief was short lived however as a flash of lightning cut the sky, causing him to start and trip on the uneven cobbles. He hit the stone paving with a dull crack and his momentum threw him into a wild tumble that ended with him splayed on his back, head spinning, staring bleary eyed up at the sky. A thin trickle of blood poured from his snout only to be washed away by the rain.

In his dazed state he just lay there. His eye lids were heavy, his mind was weary and his body ached. The steady patter of the rain was surprisingly soothing and the pony may have just let it lull him to sleep then and there had another flash of lightning not illuminated the sky and revealed, just for a second, a dense swarm of large silhouettes circling overhead. Silhouettes with leathery wings.

Coughing up the blood and rain that had pooled in the back of his throat and shaking his head to dispel the daze, the pony hauled himself slowly onto his haunches. With a Celestian effort he clambered back to his hooves and stumbled onwards. He couldn’t run anymore. He was too tired and was pretty sure he had twisted a fetlock in the fall.

The heavy beating of hundreds of membranous wings became more prominent with each painful step he took. They were toying with him. They must have been. Any one of them could have swooped down at any time, picked him up and dropped him to his doom. So why didn’t they?

After what felt like an eternity of dragging his aching bones through the downpour, made all the more arduous by the icy wind shear the high town walls had previously sheltered him from, the lights of the train station came into view. The hanging oil lamps may as well have been the radiance of Celestia herself. Just knowing his goal was in sight was enough to push the pony forward. One more step, then another and another.

Reaching the station he dragged himself up the few steps to the wooden platform, teeth gritted against the pain. Never had three small steps presented such a challenge. The sodden pony couldn’t suppress a grin of triumph as he alighted onto the platform and turn towards the train only to freeze where he stood.

A faint light was on in the caboose of the small engine and flickering shadows passing over the drawn blinds betrayed the presence of at least two passengers. This wouldn’t have been so strange if it wasn’t the middle of the night in a storm which should have seen both train and platform abandoned.

The pony sighed and took a deep steadying breath, steeling himself for the inevitable confrontation. Moving as quietly as he could on the warped wood under hoof he limped towards the main engine of the train. Whoever was in the caboose no doubt expected him to come in through the passenger door at the back, so he would take them by surprise and get the jump on them from the front. It wasn’t much of a plan. He was still outnumbered and in bad shape but even the slightest advantage could make all the difference if he acted quickly.

He hooked his one good fetlock into the engine’s guard rail and pulled himself up, only to be propelled back down with a velocity that suggested he wasn’t so much pushed forward as yanked, bodily, backwards.

The world exploded in a shower of glass and splinters as the pony crashed through the main window of the ticket office. He came to an abrupt and painful stop as he hit the back wall of the office with a wet thud, slumping into a heap on the floor.

His ears rang as he heard what his muddled brain vaguely recognised as approaching hoof beats. He was running out of time. He needed to take stock of the situation and end this quickly while he still could. He forced his eyes open and focused.

First things first: what state am I in? Sprain to the Annular Ligament in the right fetlock with a possible fracture to the Proximal Phalanx, three cracked ribs; possible fractures on the seventh and eighth Thoracic vertebrae, left lung defiantly collapsed, multiple points of internal bleeding and trauma at the base of the skull. Summary: reaction time and agility drastically impaired, physical confrontation, ill advised.

The pony turned his gaze to the stallion who had bucked him clean out of the engine as he swaggered into the remains of the ticket office with all the confidence of a predator that had its prey cornered and had nothing left to do but savour the kill.

Next, the enemy. As suspected, a Bat Pony. Male, young adult, heavily built, in prime physical condition. Discernible ailments, none. Damn! Exploitable weaknesses, sensitivity to bright light and loud noises.

The pony quickly surveyed the remains of the ticket office looking for anything he could use as a weapon. The desk and chair had been reduced to kindling. Unless the Bat Pony had a sawdust allergy they’d be useless. The brass till had fallen to the ground, scattering the few bits it contained. In his condition it’d be far too heavy to wield. There were scattered papers, a “Mares of the Month” calendar, a chalkboard noting the train schedule and hanging in the corner, an old ticket belt.

A plan formed in his head. Not his most brilliant or elegant by far but one that never failed in a tight spot. And his spot was indeed tight as, no sooner had he devised his plan than a powerful hoof pressed against his neck and lifted his prone form with arrogant ease off the floor. The Bat Pony smirked.

“Any last words Detective?”

“T’ks P’ls,” the detective pony choked.

“Eh?” The Bat Pony loosened his grip slightly and leaned in closer, ears cocked forward.

“I said,” the detective pony leaned in as close as he could and took as deep a breath as his one good lung would allow, “TICKETS PLEASE!”

The Bat Pony threw the detective across the room as though he had suddenly become red hot. Crying out in pain the stunned brute fell to his knees, clutching his sensitive ears. The pain wasn’t terrible and he would recover quickly but the shock alone of an auditory assault was enough to put the Bat Pony out of commission for a few seconds.

Those few seconds were all the detective needed. He grabbed the heavy iron ticket belt, which had fallen to the ground beside him, in his teeth and summoning the last vestiges of his strength, got to his hooves and swung the belt round in a wide arc like a Morningstar. It connected with the crown of the cringing Bat Pony’s skull with a sickening crack. The Bat Pony immediately fell, twitching, to the ground, a pool of blood slowly forming beneath his head.

The old classic of the bar room brawl: throw a distraction in their face, then hit them really hard with the nearest heavy object. It was crude and damn unsporting but it never failed.

The detective spat out the belt and stared sadly at what he had done. Sometimes he hated his line of work. The bigger the case, the more innocents and witless pawns seemed to get hurt. He shook his head and pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind. He limped back towards the train, doubting very much that his struggle had gone unnoticed by the ponies inside.

He was right.

The sight that greeted him as he stumbled out of the wreckage of the ticket office made his blood run cold. His pupils contracted to pin pricks as the weight of a hundred pairs of golden eyes bore down on him. Bat Ponies crowded onto the platform, sat on the roof of the train, leaned down from the roof of the ticket office or just hovered in place in the air. It seemed they were finished toying and weren’t thrilled to find the detective walking out instead of their brother.

To his credit, the detective didn’t panic. If anything he found the glares, snarling and hissing of the imposing crowd to be a relief. At least they were finally behaving the way an angry mob was supposed to. That he could handle. No. The thing that filled his chest with a gnawing dread was the part of the platform not occupied by chiropteric equines.

A path had been cleared through the crowd leading from him straight to the open door of the caboose and, undoubtedly, the hoof pulling all the strings. Somehow the empty space and more importantly, what it represented were more daunting than the prospect of being torn apart by an enraged swarm of fangs.

He briefly scanned his surroundings, looking for an escape route he knew in his bones he wouldn’t find. His ears splayed and he lowered his head, letting out a long, ragged sigh. He had lost. Somehow in all his long years such a prospect had never even occurred to him as a possibility. His sharp wits had spelt the end of even the most cunning and esoteric criminals. No matter the threat, no matter the magic, no matter the puzzle he always won. Yet here he was, alone in the middle of nowhere facing the short walk to his longest fall.

He raised his head and fixed his face with a determined glare. He wouldn’t beg or break down. If this was to be his end he would at least face it with dignity.

Step by step he limped forward, his broken body running on nothing but will power and pride. The closer he drew to the caboose, the denser the crowd around him became. The Bat Ponies that had been hovering above landed in the space behind, quelling any thought of retreat.

As he clambered into the luxurious train car the shadowy figures waiting within stepped forward. The single candle on the coffee table wasn’t nearly enough to light the space but it did provide just enough illumination to see the mirrored eyes sparkle with glee. It provided just enough for him to identify the ponies that would stamp out his legacy once and for all.

“Feathers?” He gasped as one of the figures approached, a malevolent grin crossing their face.

“Feathers!”

~~~

“Feathers!”

Artemis spat out the mouthful of cupcake he had been chewing and hurriedly guzzled down the contents of his bottle of apple juice. It didn’t take nearly as long as he thought it would to transport the Fillydelphia tourists to Ponyville. It turned out they had already taken a connecting train to Canterlot and saved him half a trip. Now with some unexpected time to himself he decided playing tourist sounded like fun and he may as well take in the sights of Ponyville.

The little town had developed quite a reputation in the past few years. Not only was it the scene of more epic conflicts than any other town or city in Equestria for generations but it was home to multiple award winners and celebrities like the Best Young Flyer, the upper crust’s most talked about up and coming fashionista, a world renowned supermodel, the stars of the Canterlot Hearths Warming Pageant and the co-winners of last year’s National Desert Competition.

It was the thought of the delectable, award winning treats that had led Artemis to Sugar Cube Corner first and his unfortunate decision to try the “House Special” that the enthusiastic pink pony behind the counter offered free of charge, because he was new in town.

“Wha’ i’ Eq’es’t’ia wa’ ‘at?!” Artemis tongue hung limp and lifeless from his mouth as he pointed at the offending crimson cupcake, leaning back as though it were a poisonous snake that could jump up and bite him at any second.

“Aw, don’t you like it?” The pink pony’s ears drooped and a disappointed frown crossed her face. “Why does nopony ever seem to like my jalapeño hot sauce cupcakes? I think they’re good.”

Artemis scraped his tongue with a hoof and winced. It was going to be numb for hours, he could tell. He just hoped the inability to form a coherent sentence wouldn’t make visiting the rest of the town too awkward. He dropped a few bits on the counter for the apple juice and stalked out of the bakery, ignoring the pink pony who seemed to have descended into a debate with herself over the tastes of ponies and just where the line between “boldly experimental” and “cruel and unusual” lay.

Taking in a deep lung full of air Artemis relaxed. Compared to the blistering heat out west Ponyville was pleasantly cool even in the heart of summer. The breeze carried the mixed scent of apples, roses and cinnamon from the local market. Smiling ponies walked the streets, chatting away without a care in the world, birds sang in the trees and fluffy white clouds drifted lazily across the cyan sky. It was difficult not to be washed away by a wave of contentment when exposed to the small town’s rustic charms.

He shook his head and gave a small chuckle. The treat may not have been exactly what he was expecting but there was no way he could say it wasn’t at least memorable.

Not really having a notion of his next move, Artemis set off along the street at a leisurely pace and let his mind wander. The last few days had certainly been eventful. He had left Daring in Dodge Junction with her new friend Braeburn for a few days. They were just supposed to have been following up on some research. They weren’t even supposed to leave the town. So when he returned to the news of a death defying adventure full of bandits, booby trapped temples, life changing self discovery and a treasure far greater than any of them had imagined he was understandably a little shocked. That goddaughter of his seemed to attract trouble like a magnet.

He stopped to smell the flowers on display at a stall in the town square. The delicate, creamy scent of the fresh blossoms drew a sigh of pleasure from deep in his throat. He closed his eyes to better indulge his senses. This was what life should be about. Enjoying the simple pleasures as they presented themselves and not having to fear for your life or the lives of your loved ones every other day.

“Would you like to try one?” Artemis opened his eyes to see the mare behind the stall smiling politely at him and indicating with a hoof towards the lilies he had been hovering over.

His face reddening as he realised he must have been standing there longer than he thought. Artemis gave a sheepish smile and waved a hoof in dismissal.

“’Oh ‘ank ‘ooh.”

Before the confused flower pony could respond Artemis trotted off as fast as he could without seeming impolite. He kept his head low until he was sure his cheeks had stopped blushing and only when he felt he had calmed down enough did he lift his head and slow down.

He bit down on his tongue experimentally and gave a small groan when he felt nothing. That was embarrassing. On the other hoof, he smiled and added a spring to his step for good measure. It’d make a funny anecdote one day so there was no reason to let it get him down.

After a few more minutes of enjoying the scenery, Artemis once again allowed his thoughts to wander.

Yes, trouble seemed to follow Daring wherever she went. She’d worry him to death one of these days. It wasn’t always a problem. Daring undertook most of her expeditions with a team of archaeologists who looked out for her and, usually, rained in her more reckless tendencies, but she did go on a painful amount of adventures alone or with only a single companion and every time she did she would come back with a new injury and a tale of a narrow escape. Why couldn’t she be more careful?

Then again, Artemis chuckled to himself, who was he to judge? At her age he had diced with death more times than he could count and would have fallen under the hooves of some very nasty ponies, had he not been dragged out of the gutter by an eccentric genius who had kicked his flank back onto the straight and narrow and given him a sense of purpose in life.

Artemis was suddenly pulled back to the present when he caught sight of a gray and yellow blur out of the corner of his eye flying in the direction he had just come from. Was that Daring? What was she doing in Ponyville of all places?

Whatever it was, Artemis decided it must be important and he’d better meet her at the station. Without another thought he turned around and galloped back through the town, not even acknowledging the flower pony who still looked rather off kilter, not knowing whether to be insulted by or sympathetic towards the pony who had just spat gibberish in her face.

~~~

Daring Do beat her wings as hard as she could. They ached from her crash course in stunt flying but she didn’t care. She had to put as much distance between herself and the apple farm, herself and him, as she could as fast as she could. She needed time to think and didn’t trust herself not to turn back if she paused, even for a moment.

Snarling at herself for her own indecision she forcefully wiped the tears from her eyes with a fetlock. The sooner she was back in Dodge Junction the sooner she could pack up and head to the ends of the Earth to be alone with her thoughts.

So wrapped up in her own woes was Daring that, as she arrived at the station she nearly collided with a blonde, wall eyed mare flying in the opposite direction. Safely swerving at the last second Daring nevertheless misjudged her landing entirely and tripped over her hooves, plunging face first towards the paving stones. With a small yelp she screwed her eyes closed and braced for pain; pain which to her surprise, never came.

She opened her eyes and realised she was being held up by the forelegs of another pony. The pony had a gray coat, a sleek black mane and tail and was panting as though he had just been running. The pony was as familiar to Daring as her own reflection and, at a time like this, was the most welcome sight in the world. She threw her own forelegs around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Artemis! What are you doing here? I thought you had to work.”

Artemis pulled away from the hug but kept his hooves on the mare’s shoulders and a warm smile on his face.

“Ah di’,” he paused and coughed. The adrenaline from running had forced a little feeling back into his tongue and he was sure he could speak clearly if he just focused.

“I did. But I finished faster than I expected. Daring,” his brow furrowed as he noticed the redness around his goddaughter’s eyes, “what’s wrong? Did something happen with Braeburn?”

He took his hooves away and turned back in the direction of Ponyville, a blinding anger quickly rising in his chest.

“It did, didn’t it? I swear, if that no good mule hurt you I’ll tie him to the rails an-"

“Artemis!” Daring interrupted, grabbing the stallion’s head and forcibly turning him to look at her. “Braeburn didn’t do anything. In fact, he’s been nothing but wonderful so you can dial back the overprotective routine.”

Unconvinced, Artemis snorted but, reluctantly, turned back to face Daring, “Fine. Well why don’t you tell me what is wrong because when I last saw you, you were on top of the world.”

He led her to a bench on the platform where they sat, Daring with a distinctive slump, the customary gleam in her eyes missing. Her gaze fell to the ground and she absentmindedly scratched circles into the wood of the bench with a hoof.

“It’s just,” she began, “everything’s happened so fast. For so long I’ve kept my feelings bottled up. I’ve kept everypony at a distance because I didn’t want them to get hurt. I didn’t want to get hurt. Then I meet Braeburn and in less than forty eight hours he has me crying like a filly, spilling my heart out and talking about things I’ve tried so hard to forget. I told him my darkest secrets and he didn’t run away. He actually accepted me, warts and all. I just... I don’t know how to deal with that kind of affection. I don’t know if I’m capable of returning it the way he deserves so... I ran. I... need time.”

Any anger Artemis had been feeling dissipated instantly. He wrapped a comforting hoof around Daring’s shoulder and pulled her closer to his side. She rested her head on his shoulder and let silent tears run down her face.

“You know, even a block headed mule like me can see how much you care for him. I don’t think you need as much time as you think. Like you said, it all just happened so fast. You just need a little while to let it sink in. Hey,” he gave her shoulders a playful shake, “you’ve spent your whole life living in the past with your head in the sand. Maybe it’s time to live in the here and now for a while. Take some time to smell the roses.”

Daring gave a weak laugh. “Well, listen to you Mr Sensitivity. Since when has the stallion who hasn’t had a date in twenty years been such an expert on romance?”

“Hey!” Artemis chuckled, a tinge of faux indignation in his voice. “I have my moments. And for your information I do have dates.”

“Flirting with Minerva while you think I can’t hear you doesn’t count.”

Both ponies burst into fits of laughter at the thought of the prim and proper museum curator flirting. They laughed long and hard, straight from the heart as the tension that had built up in the air blew away like a thin fog in a brisk wind.

After several minutes they had to stop to gasp for air. There were few things more precious in the world than the moment when tears of sadness turn to tears of joy and even if the source of the elation was irreverent such moments were to be savoured for all they were worth.

“Ah,” Artemis sighed, wiping a tear from his eye, “speaking of Minerva. What are you planning on doing now that you’ve been 'outed'?”

Daring sighed and lolled her head lazily back to watch the clouds. “I don’t know. I need time away from Braeburn so I can’t stick around Dodge but with this publicity storm I can’t go back to Canterlot for a while either. Maybe I’ll head out to Fillydelphia or Los Pegasus and look up some old friends or I could always take up that teaching position at Trotingham University they’re always begging me to take. Either way, I’m probably going to have to whip out the old disguise kit again.”

“Well whatever you decide you know I’ll be right there with you. In the mean time,” Artemis stood up and popped his neck, “why don’t I give you a lift back to Dodge so you can sleep on it?”

“I’d appreciate that.”

The two ponies crossed the empty platform to the dark engine idling on the tracks. They were just about to board when a stallion with a blue visor and walrus moustache came trotting out of the ticket office towards them.

“Pardon me,” he said, his voice clipped and nasal, “Are you Artemis, engineer of train 221B?”

“Yes, that’s me.” Artemis turned to the stallion, one eye brow raised.

“A telegram arrived for you through the main office.” The stallion hoofed Artemis a folded piece of paper and trotted away as Artemis muttered his thanks.

Artemis unfolded the paper and quickly scanned the note. The colour immediately ran from his face and his pupils shrank to pin pricks. He reread the telegram two more times, convinced he had misunderstood, willing the words themselves to change. Finally he dropped the paper to the ground and just stared off into space, his mind reeling from the impossible news he had just received.

“Artemis, are you okay?” Daring edged closer to her godfather, her brow furrowed with concern.

“I need to go to Transylmaneia.”

Chapter Two- The Ties That Bind

Chapter Two: The Ties That Bind

By Feather Scratch

As Daring Do trekked through the tropical jungle, the wet heat sapped her energy and slowed her every step. If only she could escape this oppressive atmosphere and fly up into the cool blue sky. But her crash landing in the jungle had injured her wing and she was grounded for a few days. A few days... it might as well be a few months, or a few years!

The mosquitoes buzzed loudly. The Macaws cried from the high trees. Yet all of these distracting noises were not enough to cover the sound of the predators following her every step.

~~~

“Yeesh, talk about milking the drama.”

Daring closed her copy of ‘Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone’ and leaned back against the cold, iron wall of the 221 B’s Engineer’s Cabin, allowing the steady rumbling of the train to massage the tension out of her aching muscles. She was in no mood to be alone right now and so had opted out of the comfort of her private car in favour of keeping Artemis company.

She glanced over at her godfather who had remained stony faced ever since receiving the mysterious telegram in Ponyville. She hated this. She was the one going through the emotional turmoil yet every fibre of her being was telling her Artemis was suddenly the one in need of sympathy.

The few attempts she had made to start a conversation had been met with silence or gruff, one-word answers that effectively eliminated any chance of a decent dialogue. It had gotten to the point where the tension was so awkward that Daring was driven to try and escape into one of the few things that irritated her most in the world, her namesake novels.

“The books are kind of funny if you don’t take them too seriously,” Daring continued, her voice cracking as she tried to keep her tone light, “I mean, artistic licence is one thing, but who’s ever heard of a fluffy white feral kitten?”

Artemis said nothing, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the little track ahead that was still visible. The sun had set over an hour ago and in the unpopulated expanse between Ponyville and Dodge Junction only the single head lamp of the train gave shape to the otherwise consummate darkness.

Daring heaved a weary sigh and moved to stand beside Artemis, mimicking his pose. In the darkness she could almost imagine the train had flown away, carrying them into the infinite stillness of the night sky and leaving the world and all their woes and worries behind. Then the engine would lurch over a bump in the tracks and she’d be brought crashing back down to reality.

“You know you’re going to tell me what was in that telegram.” Daring stated flatly. “We’ve been through this a hundred times before. You find out something you don’t want me to know about, you put on your best poker face which is about as subtle as a zebra welcome mask, I ask what’s wrong, you deny, I keep digging and pushing, whipping out the puppy dog eyes if necessary and one way or another you crack and fold like a house of cards. You couldn’t hide it when my pet monkey died and you’re not going to hide this. So tell me,” she turned her head, fixing the gray stallion with a look of concern, “what did the telegram say to upset you so much?”

For several heartbeats she thought he wouldn’t answer. She took a deep breath, preparing to begin her lengthy interrogation when his stony demeanour finally cracked. His ears and head drooped and he let out a long suffering sigh.

“I’m not trying to hide anything from you Daring. I just didn’t want to burden you any more than you already were. You have enough on your plate without adding my personal problems to the load.”

A small smile crossing her face, Daring gently nuzzled Artemis’ cheek and wrapped a hoof around his shoulders.

“Hey now, you old mule, did you forget who you were talking to? You’re the only family I have left, which makes your personal problems mine too. Don’t think the whole protective thing is a one way street. Whatever’s upsetting you, I need to know what it is so I can make it stop.”

Artemis gave a half hearted chuckle and fell to his haunches. “I’m afraid you’re a little late for that kiddo.”

He reached under the engineer’s cap he wore while on the job and withdrew the crumpled telegram. Hesitating just for a second, he passed it wordlessly to Daring. She took it gently as though she were being passed a newborn foal by an emotional mother. Carefully unfolding it, she began to read:

DEAR ARTEMIS TROTSON STOP
WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT THIS PAST SUNDAY ONE MISTER FETLOCK HOOVES HAS PASSED AWAY STOP
BEING ONE OF THE NAMES LISTED IN MISTER HOOVES MEDICAL RECORDS AS HIS EMERGENCY CONTACT YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUESTED IN TRANSYLMANEIA FOR A FORMAL IDENTIFICATION AND COLLECTION OF THE BODY STOP
WE ARE SORRY FOR YOUR LOSE STOP
YOURS TRUELY THE TRANSYLMANEIA GUARD DAY WATCH STOP

Daring finished reading the note and looked up at Artemis. He was a strong stallion. The strongest Daring had ever known. He was always the rock that kept her grounded, the shoulder that was always there for her to cry on, but right at this moment, he looked as though it would take nothing more than one wrong word to shatter the little self control that was holding his composure together.

“This Fetlock Hooves must have meant a lot to you.” Daring began hesitantly. “Was he a friend?”

Artemis looked his goddaughter in the eye and gave a sad, nostalgic smile. “You could say that. I owe everything to him. I wouldn’t be the stallion I am today if he hadn’t picked me up out of the gutter and put me back on the right path.” Artemis chuckled. “In a roundabout way, he was actually the reason I met your parents in the first place.”

“You never told me that.” Daring’s ears perked to attention at the new information. “In fact, now that I think about it, you never told me how you met my mom and dad. I had always just assumed you were an old family friend.”

Artemis looked out the window, smiling at a scene only he could see. “Well I guess that depends on your definition of old. You weren’t born when we met if that counts, but you were on the way. Your parents were making their way back to Manehatten after investigating the cave paintings at Rambling Rock Ridge. Compass Rose being as heavily pregnant as she was, meant they couldn’t make the trip in one go so they decided to spend the night in Hollow Shades before pressing on.

“As it so happened, that very night, Hooves and I found ourselves in the same quiet little town tying up some... loose ends.”

~~~

“Hooves, forget it. Even if they are here, we don’t know what they look like, or even how many there are. Look, we caught Mareiarty. Without him, his agents are running scared. We did our part; let the guards clean up the rest.”

The duo walked down the pier of Hollow Shades endeavouring to look as casual and inconspicuous as possible. Or at least Artemis was. Hooves swaggered down the boardwalk as though he owned the place, meeting the stare of any local with a raised eyebrow of his own until they blinked and looked away.

The night air was still and humid. The smell of moss and stagnant water floated up from the swamp surrounding the raised town. Swarms of dancing fireflies lit the tree canopy with an eerie, iridescent glow and an unseen banjo player did his best to drown out the sound of hissing gators hidden in the distant, dark waters. It would have been a pleasant, relaxing place to visit, thought Artemis, if he’d been here with anypony else.

“Let the guards clean up the rest?” Hooves turned his attention from the town and fixed his unblinking eyes on Artemis. “My dear boy, the guards couldn’t find their own reflections in a hall of mirrors, let alone the faceless inner circle of a criminal mastermind. No. I shan’t rest easy until every variable is accounted for, and the only way to see it done properly is first hoof.”

“Even if that were true, which it isn’t, we’ve been chasing shadows for days! There are nearly a dozen major metropolitan areas we haven’t searched yet, all of which Mareiarty had properties and holdings in. So what in Equestria would make you think his agents would come here to the back end of nowhere?”

They stopped outside the largest building in the small town. The sound of a poorly played, tinny piano, laughter and lively conversations floated out from inside. Several jugs of different sizes sporting ‘Triple X’ labels hung from the porch roof, acting as makeshift wind chimes and a faded wooden sign over the door read ‘Moonshine Tavern’.

“They would come here dear boy, because ‘the back end of nowhere’ is exactly the place one would expect to find rogues and scoundrels. Everypony knows this so the guards will likely look everywhere but, assuming the stallions in Mareiarty’s employ would never be so obvious.”

Artemis clenched his eyes tightly shut and rubbed his temples with his hooves. “So you’re saying they’ll do exactly what everypony expects them to do under the assumption that the guards will expect them to do the exact opposite of what they’re expected to do and therefore won’t bother looking in the most obvious place?”

“Precisely!”

“Are you insane?! We’re ignoring genuine leads on some farfetched hunch! Whatever happened to ‘never theorise without data’?”

Hooves trotted up to the door of the tavern. “All I’m asking is one night for some piece of mind. Best case scenario: we spot the blaggards right away and take them down before they know what hit them. Worst case scenario: I’m wrong and we spend the night drinking and enjoying the local colour. What do you say?”

“Fine,” Artemis sighed, “but you’re buying the drinks.”

Tavern doors are funny things. They exert a certain magical gravitas all their own. No matter where in the world it is, no matter who the occupants are, no matter what is transpiring inside, the second a tavern door is opened, everything stops, and all eyes are undeniably drawn to the individuals that opened them. The inevitable awkward silence that follows is crucial to the rest of the night because whatever breaks the silence could mean the difference between a free drink and a bar brawl.

All eyes in the room bore down on Artemis and Hooves. Artemis tensed, ready to fight or run.

“Lovely wind chimes,” Hooves nonchalantly motioned in the general direction of the jugs outside, “very rustic.”

The piano and conversations once again jumped into life and the locals rolled their eyes. Tourists!

Artemis relaxed and released the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. He followed Hooves over to a small table in the corner and slumped into a seat. Hooves called for some drinks and sat down beside him.

“This isn’t so bad is it?” Hooves grinned and gave Artemis a friendly elbow. “Why I think it’s rather a charming little establishment.”

It was an act. Artemis had known Hooves long enough to know his tells when he saw them. The way he grinned, the way he spoke just a little louder than was necessary, the way his eyes didn’t match his smile, Hooves was in full blown detective mode and he knew they were being watched.

The waitress deposited two foaming mugs of cider in front of them and tromped off, not even bothering to acknowledge their muttered thanks.

“Great service, eh?” Artemis said loudly, leaning forward and taking a long, deep draught of his drink. “What are you seeing Hooves?” He muttered into his glass.

“Everything,” Hooves whispered back. “Not counting us, there are thirty one ponies in this room. Seven are mares so we can rule them out, as we know Mareiarty’s inner circle were all stallions. The bartender moves with too much confidence and familiarity with his surroundings to be a new arrival, so we can rule him out. That leaves twenty three. What can you tell me about them?”

Artemis took another sip of his drink, wiped his muzzle and focused. It was all about the little details.

“We can rule out the Unicorn in the corner.”

“Why?”

“The Pegasus mare he’s with is pregnant. If he were a pony on the run, he wouldn’t travel with a companion that would slow him down.”

“He could have just struck up a conversation in the tavern.”

Artemis paused, “His hooves.”

“What about them?”

“They’re rough and worn. Mareiarty employed thugs, but they were always from cities. Even a violent stallion wouldn’t get hooves like that in a paved city. He’d need to have been trekking through rough terrain for some time, like mountains or caves.

“Furthermore,” Artemis added with a smirk, “the mare he’s with has hooves in a similar condition, meaning wherever he’s come from, she came with him.”

Hooves chuckled and patted Artemis on the shoulder. “Well done, dear boy. Keep it up and you may make a half decent detective yet.”

Artemis drained his mug and called for another round. He refused to acknowledge the compliment. Not only because he was sure it contained a veiled insult about his intelligence, but because he couldn’t let Hooves know how much the praise meant to him. Their relationship was one built on pride and mutual stubbornness. The detective would never let him live down any kind of vanity.

“We’re not going to have to go through this with every pony in the room are we?”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” Hooves rested his chin on his fetlocks and let his eyes relax. This was another trait Artemis had seen all too often. Hooves would enter a kind of trance, shutting down all unnecessary parts of his brain and devoting all his energy to his perception of the world around him. In this state he could pick up every little detail from the ponies the bartender kept an eye on to the notes the pianist wasn’t playing.

“Twelve of the remaining ponies are regulars. The bartender is keeping an eye on several of them, suggesting they’ve picked fights in the past. The waitress who was less than friendly towards us has been smiling and chatting with others, suggesting more than a passing familiarity. Those remaining are sporting well worn fishing attire, suggesting they make their living working the swamp.”

“They could have just bought the fishing gear to blend in.” Artemis pointed out smugly.

“True, but the stains on their clothing match the stains on their hooves and coats which in turn match the hue of the local earth and flora. Do think before you interrupt dear boy.”

Artemis huffed but remained silent.

“That leaves ten.”

“Surely Mareiarty wouldn’t have trusted ten lieutenants.” Artemis scanned the room, trying to see what Hooves was seeing. “And there’s still no guarantee that any pony in this room is who we’re looking for.”

“Oh, but there is, dear boy,” Hooves slowly pushed his chair out from under the table and cocked one ear in the direction of the piano, softly tapping a hoof in time with the music.

“The pianist is missing all the same notes and utilising the same off beat tempo we heard during our investigation of the Applewood Salt Shaker Club, the south’s most popular recruiting spot for individuals of negotiable morals.

“The two ponies by the door are just tourists. Their accents place them from the Vanhoover area where Mareiarty had no holdings. Furthermore they’re sitting with their backs to the window, something no seasoned criminal would ever do.”

Artemis counted out the remaining seven ponies. “I think we can rule out the stallion with the hour glass cutie mark at the bar then. He’s been sitting with his back to the door since we arrived. He barely even looked at us when we came in.”

“Well done dear boy! That leaves six.” Artemis followed Hooves out from behind the table and the pair slowly made their way to the bar. “We’ve already identified the pianist and I believe that’s every civilian unaccounted for.”

The bartender wordlessly hoofed the pair the drinks they had ordered and left them to ruminate. Irritation flashed across Artemis’ face as he watched the room through the mirror behind the bar.

“That still doesn’t prove that the six left are criminals. How can you be so sure they aren’t tourists?”

“I can’t.” Hooves whispered. “But those remaining all fit the criminal profile. All heavily built, all well dressed, all sitting with their backs to the walls.”

“So, what now?”

“Now,” Hooves grinned and drained the contents of his mug in one go, “we improvise!”

Without another word Hooves spun on the spot and lobbed his empty mug at the pianist. The resounding clunk and sudden lack of music had multiple effects. Some ponies screamed and bolted for the door, others ducked for cover but several just stood and stared at Artemis and Hooves.

“Ah, there we are,” Hooves gave a smirk of satisfaction, “all six, present and accounted for!”

Artemis glared at his companion as the remaining five criminal ponies closed in on them. “You know, sometimes I really hate you.”

Ignoring Artemis, Hooves charged headfirst into the encroaching wall of muscle. “You’re all under arrest!”

As one thug raised a hoof to swing at his attacker, Hooves ducked low and leaped forward, delivering a vicious body tackle that carried both ponies across the room and crashing through the nearest table.

Artemis took advantage of the momentary distraction by grabbing the stool he had been sitting on and bringing it down hard on the head of another thug. The pony folded like an accordion but, much to Artemis’ dismay, the sudden loss of his friend drew the attention of the largest thug from Hooves to him.

Artemis ears pinned to his head and his pupils narrowed to pin pricks, “Oh dear.”

He attempted a wild haymaker which was deftly swatted aside by the gargantuan pony. Before he could attempt anything else, he felt a powerful hoof on his neck lift him off the floor.

“Cn’t we t’k b’t t’s?”

The giant pony chuckled and with the slightest flick of his wrist, sent Artemis flying through the air only to collide with the wall mirror behind the bar. The Earth Pony fell to the ground with broken glass raining down on his head.

His ears ringing, Artemis coughed, trying to coax some air back into his winded lungs. As he clambered unsteadily to his hooves, his eyes met those of the pregnant couple who were huddling behind the bar. He gave them a half hearted smile and a nod.

“I’m really sorry about this. You two should head outside until things die down okay?”

The couple gave him a shaky nod of acknowledgement just as a pair of powerful hooves reached down and pulled Artemis bodily up from behind the bar.

“Go now!” Artemis shouted at the couple right before bringing his forehead down with a mighty crunch onto his opponent’s nose.

The giant pony immediately dropped him and cried out in pain, clutching at his bloody nose and stumbling backwards into the one-on-three brawl between Hooves and the lesser thugs. Artemis waited until the couple had safely left through the front door before jumping from the counter and landing another well aimed head butt on his opponent’s nose, sending him to the floor with a ground shaking thud.

With only two thugs to go, Artemis and Hooves leaned back to back. Hooves was breathing heavily but was otherwise in great spirits. Artemis wiped the blood from his forehead and stared down the visibly distressed thug in front of him.

“Now isn’t this more fun than sifting through holdings records in the Canterlot archives?” Hooves chuckled.

“I really hate you.” The pony in front of Artemis was quickly shifting his gaze between his massive friend’s prone figure and the blood splattered maniac who put him down.

“Go ahead,” Artemis growled. “Make your move.”

The pony paused for just a second before coming to a decision and bolting for the door. Artemis took off after him, his progress slowed from having to dodge between unconscious bodies and wrecked furniture.

Outside a mare screamed and there was the sound of smashing pottery. Artemis felt his heart stop as visions of the worst case scenario flooded his mind. He panicked and charged head first out the door only to be met by blackness.

~~~

“Blackness?” Daring cocked her head to one side and raised an eyebrow.

“Uh huh,” Artemis chuckled, resuming his post at the engine as they made their approach to Dodge Junction, “turned out that pregnant couple weren’t quite as helpless as I thought. It also turned out jug wind chimes make great blunt instruments.”

Artemis rubbed his forehead where a faint scar showed just below his forelock. “Your dad caught the bad guy just as he came out and your mom well...It wasn’t her fault I looked like a bloody lunatic. When I came to, Mareiarty’s crew were in custody, and Hooves had explained the situation to the locals. Your parents and I introduced each other, we all apologised and we were friends ever since.”

The pair was silent for a while as the lights of the Dodge train station came into view. Daring threw her novel in her saddle bag and put it and her hat on, ready to disembark. Just as the train came to a stop her brow knitted and she turned to Artemis as a thought struck her.

“In your story,” she began, “you and Hooves didn’t seem to get on very well. So why are you so broken up about him now?”

Artemis led the way out of the train and set off towards the town. “Don’t misunderstand. The crazy jackass frustrated me to no end but that doesn’t mean I didn’t respect him. He was a brilliant pony, a great mentor and a loyal friend. We may have fallen out of touch but that doesn’t mean I’m not upset about him dying. He was always too stubborn for his own good.”

Daring smiled and nudged him. “Remind you of anypony?”

~~~

Daring pushed open the door to her basement apartment and flicked on the light. She threw her hat and saddlebags haphazardly on the coffee table in the centre of the room and flopped down on the comfortable sofa.

Artemis stood, framed in the doorway. A small smile played across his lips as the look of contentment on his goddaughter’s face at just being home lightened his own sullen mood. He turned to leave.

“Well, I’ll be off then.”

Leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees Daring kept the smile on her face but couldn’t hide the concern in her eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? I really don’t mind. I know if it were me I’d want somepony with me.”

Artemis shook his head and met Daring’s smile with one of his own. “No it’s alright kiddo. This is all just standard procedure. I’ll be there and back before you notice I’m gone. You just figure out where you want to go from here. I’ll be eager to hear your plan when I get back okay?”

“Okay,” Daring sighed as the fatigue of the day finally caught up with her. “Take care of yourself, Arty.”

“Goodnight, Daring.”

~~~

BANG, BANG, BANG

“Oh Braeburn, your rifle’s so...” Daring rolled over in bed, a slight trail of drool clinging to her cheek.

BANG, BANG, BANG

“Wow, you nailed it! Bullseye!” She threw her forelegs into the air before flopping back down spread-eagled.

BANG, BANG, BANG

Daring rolled out of bed, still tangled in her sheets and hit the floor with a dull thud. “Wuzzat?”

Her head shot up and her eyes tried to open, though they couldn’t seem to synchronise this early in the morning.

BANG, BANG, BANG

Realising someone was at the door she clambered to her hooves and walked unsteadily from her bedroom. “Uhh who could that be?”

Reaching the front door, she was about to open it when her brain finally kicked in and she hesitated. What if it was paparazzi?

“Who is it?” She called out, her voice hoarse from having slept with her mouth open all night.

“I’m looking for an Earth Pony called Artemis Trotson.” The voice that called back belonged to a mare, fairly young by the sound of it.

Daring pulled the door open and jumped slightly at the sight that met her. It was indeed a young mare. She was dressed in a wide brimmed hat and heavy travelling cloak and had been on the go for some time if the bags under her eyes were any indicator. But it wasn’t her dishevelled appearance that startled Daring, she wasn’t exactly presentable herself, it was the fact that the mare at her door was a genuine Bat Pony.

“Hi,” the Bat Pony gave a cheery wave despite the fatigue in her voice, “I’m Angel Beats. I have an urgent message for Artemis Trotson from Fetlock Hooves.”

Author's Note

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
I know this update is WAY later than I promised.
Between being ambushed by a rabid pack of deadlines (poor Auto Pilot didn't make it), pressing international family issues and a sudden bout of what I can only hope is flu I just haven't been able to write as much as I'd like.
I can only apologise profusely and promise I'll do my best to do better in the future.
Hope the chapter was worth the wait.

P.S. Thanks to Comet Burst for letting me use Angel. You da man! Everyone should check out his awesome story "The Golden Armour" where Angel comes from. You won't regret it I promise!

Chapter Three- Angel's Beat

Chapter Three: Angel’s Beat

By Feather Scratch

Proof Read by Comet Burst, q97randomguy and mr jerrio

“You’re a... Bat Pony!” In her still semi-conscious state, Daring couldn’t help but gawp at the rarity on her doorstep. She leaned in just a little too close, her eyes wide and unblinking like a filly at an aquarium that just caught her first glance of the exotic fish.

“Uh, yeah, last time I checked.” Angel Beats scratched the back of her neck and forced a grin. Avoiding eye contact was easier said than done at this range. The mare was staring at Angel like she had two heads, and Angel felt her gaze locked on to the rosy orbs before her like a magnet.

“You’re a Bat Pony in Dodge Junction!”

“And with the way everypony keeps staring at me, I’m a Bat Pony who wishes she was anywhere but Dodge Junction right now.” Angel let out a nervous laugh and backed away a few paces.

Daring blinked and gave her head a little shake as her brain finally caught up to current events. She flashed her own sheepish smile and absentmindedly kicked off the bed sheet still clinging to her back like a vibrant red toga.

“Ah ha, sorry about that. It’s been a bit of a week, and I’m no good in the morning without my coffee.” She stepped out into the hall and extended a hoof towards Angel. “I’m Daring Do.”

Angel looked Daring up and down, her golden eyes searching for any further signs of crazy. When she was satisfied there was no more coming, her smile switched from awkward to genuine and she bumped Daring’s extended hoof. “It’s cool. Not many Bat Ponies come this far south, so I’m guessing I look just a little out of place.” She chuckled. “I may as well be an Earth Pony in Cloudsdale.”

The two mares shared a laugh, which, all too soon morphed into stifled yawns. Daring headed back into her basement apartment and waved for Angel to follow. Once inside, Angel took off her hat, revealing her tufted, bat-like ears and let out a deep sigh. “Ah, now that’s more like it! How do you get it so cool down here? It’s like an oven outside.”

Daring had moved across the room to check her reflection in the polished wood of a cabinet and was making a half-hearted attempt to tidy up her bedraggled mane. Giving up, she turned back to Angel. “These rooms used to be a storage cellar before they were done up. Solid stone walls and hardly any direct sunlight keeps the place nice and cool even at midday. Speaking of,” Daring tilted her head, “It’s still pretty early isn’t it? It can’t be that hot outside.”

“It is if you’re a Bat Pony.” Angel sunk into the comfy sofa like it was made of clouds. “Back where I come from, it even snows in the summer. In the winter, if you spilled a hot drink it would be a block of ice before it hit the ground.”

“Yeesh! and I thought Vanhoover was harsh.” Daring sat down in a chair opposite Angel and systematically stretched out every joint, trying to wake herself up. “I mean, I like the cold just fine, but when it starts turning coco into ice cream, I’d say the real estate agent pulled a fast one on you.”

Angel shrugged. “Meh, we like it fine. Even if I did want to throttle the real estate agent, he’s had a good few centuries to make his getaway. So, unless you know a really good detective who specialises in time travel, I think we’re stuck. Anyway,” she sat up straight, her weary body aching in protest, “Artemis Trotson? This is his address isn’t it? Please tell me I didn’t come all the way to Dodge Junction for nothing.”

“Well that kind of depends. If you just have a message for him I can take it, but if you needed to see him in person, sorry, you’re out of luck. Technically, this is only his mailing address. He doesn’t actually live here.”

Angel’s ears fell, her shoulders slumped and she looked almost ready to burst into tears. “Aww, this sucks!” She rubbed her eyes with her hooves and let her head fall backwards over the top of the sofa. “No amount of reward is worth all this grief!”

“Reward?” Daring leaned forward. “What reward?”

Angel's hooves fell to her sides, but she kept gazing, bleary-eyed, at the ceiling. “A pony called Fetlock Hooves. He promised me a lot of bits if I could find his old friend Artemis Trotson for him.

“I came all the way from Transylmaneia, from the other side of the country, to find him, but it wasn’t until I reached Canterlot that I realised I had no idea how to do it. I guess I took for granted just how big the world outside my own town is. Hooves hadn’t given me anything but a name to go on, so I’ve been spending the last few days bouncing from city to city trying to find this guy.”

Daring smiled sympathetically and headed for the door. “You look like you could use a pick-me-up. Come on. I’ll take you to the only decent place in town, and you can tell me everything. How did you know Hooves?”

Angel hesitated, but after a moment sighed, took one last, deep breath of the cool basement air and followed Daring out the door, replacing her hat securely on her head making sure that its wide brim shaded as much of her face from the harsh desert sun as possible. “Well, I first met him a few months ago.”

~~~

All who could afford to were outside, enjoying the closest thing to a summer's day the Walled town of Transylmaneia ever got. The sun shone high over the frozen mountains, not a cloud marred the pristine beauty of the cyan sky and the gentle breeze carried nothing but a brisk chill and the scent of pine from the distant Wintergreen Woods. Some ponies on the other hoof, had work to do.

“How can there be so much paperwork? We never get any business!”

Angel slumped in her wobbly chair, rested her chin on the rickety table and stuck her tongue out at the impossibly large stack of documents looming in front of her.

Her Aunty Autumn Night ran the Transylmaneia Tourist Board whose headquarters consisted of the front half of a tiny two-room house near the main gate of the town. Like most houses on the outer edges, it had a distinctly improvised look with three cobblestone walls and one made from multicoloured glass bottles that caught what little light shone through the town. The shingled roof was a mismatched mosaic of wood and slate tiles that matched the colourful sign above the door claiming ‘Tourists Welcome’ which looked like a filly’s arts and crafts project. It was, in fact; when she was little, Angel had given it to her Aunty for her birthday.

Angel had come to work for her Aunty that past month partly out of guilt and partly out of boredom. She spent most of her free time with her Aunty anyway and felt bad about never being able to return her kindness in any meaningful way. The typically bad business had gotten worse since the recent reappearance of the Crystal Empire. She knew that, short of press ganging tour groups at knifepoint, there was nothing she could do to improve things, but she could at least help Autumn Night with the little stuff. It was either that or spend her days sulking in her Dad’s cave.

It turned out being an extra pair of hooves in a failing business was a lot more work than the young mare had bargained for.

“Don’t grumble, Angel dear. Business will pick up soon.” Autumn Night bustled through the beaded curtain that separated the front office from the living quarters in the back, pushing a trolley loaded with tea and fruit cake as she went. She wore a pair of half-moon glasses on a chain, and her greying blue mane in a bun. Her clearly hoof knitted cream cardigan and permanently bemused expression gave her a constant air of genial good humour. “And the bureaucracy is all necessary. It takes a lot of help from the council to keep a non-profit organisation like this running, and we must go through the proper channels. Personally, I think of it as a game. Each form is like its own little quiz. I see how fast I can complete one and try to beat that time with the next.”

Angel rolled her eyes and took a piece of fruit cake from the trolley, picking out the raisins and counting them as she went; not because she didn’t like raisins, just to give herself something to do besides trawling through bottomless stacks of paperwork. “Speaking of games, on a day like this, a sunny, once-in-a-blue-moon day like this, I bet a lot of ponies will be out Gale Surfing. It sure would be nice to go out and watch, maybe even take a few turns.”

Autumn Night gave a lilting little chuckle and took a dainty sip of her wild berry tea. “Oh, that it would. You know, I was quite the Gale Surfer when I was your age. I once made it all the way to Sombra’s Bane Peak before I was forced down.”

Angel’s ears perked up, and a hopeful grin spread itself across her face. “So, does that mean we can go? I bet I could make it to Sombra’s Bane if I started high enough!”

“I’m afraid not dear. We have too much work to do. The office won’t run itself.”

Ears splaying, Angel slumped back down and harrumphed. She looked at her little pile of precisely seventeen raisins and two mango chunks and began idly rearranging them into patterns.

“Can’t all this wait Aunty Autumn? It’s not like any tourists are likely to show up in the middle of the week, and it may be months before we get another day like this.” Angel leaned across the rickety table, pressing her hooves together and putting on her best pleading voice. “I promise I’ll get all of this done tomorrow but, just for today, can we please go out and do something?”

Autumn Night just smiled and took another dainty sip of tea. When no reply seemed forthcoming, Angel scooted a little closer, throwing puppy dog eyes into the mix for good measure. Everypony she knew would be making the most of this day, and she’d be darned if she had to spend it behind a stack of papers.

With another laugh like wind chimes in the breeze, Autumn Night smirked and looked at her niece over the top of her nose. “I’m getting the subtle impression that you’d like to spend the day outside.”

Angel perked up and nodded her head vigorously.

“Well, we still have a business to run but if it’s an excursion you want...” Autumn Night trotted over to the front counter and began rifling through the drawers, muttering and giggling to herself as she went. After several long minutes searching, which Angel was sure were deliberate considering there was little else in the drawers besides maps and trinkets, Autumn Night popped her head back up with a stack of pamphlets in her mouth. She deposited them in front of Angel and beamed with pride. “You could always trot off to the train station and welcome the new arrivals. Why, I’d bet a friendly hello and a helpful pamphlet would be just the thing to get ponies into the spirit of things!”

Angel cocked an eyebrow at the stack of dusty pamphlets. This wasn’t exactly what she had in mind when she thought of a day out, but who knew? Maybe she’d meet some interesting ponies from faraway lands, ponies who knew about things like proper seasons and magic and oranges. She grinned, tossed the pamphlets in a saddle bag and made for the door. “Don’t worry Aunty Autumn. By the end of the day, I’ll have convinced a bunch of ponies to have a look around, or my name isn’t Angel Fruit Punch Beats!”

Autumn Night cocked her head to one side. “Your name isn’t Angel ‘Fruit Punch’ Beats.”

“No, but I always wanted it to be!” With one last toothy grin, Angel was out the door and running at full gallop towards the train station.

~~~

“I’m sorry, but what does fruit cake and pamphlets have to do with Fetlock Hooves?”

Daring and Angel were sitting at a table in the corner of Dodge Junction’s one and only tavern. Daring cradled a steaming mug of coffee where Angel had opted for a tall glass of apple juice. Lucky for the mares, it was a reasonably slow day, and they had the room pretty much to themselves.

“What, you never heard of setting the scene?” Angel took a deep swig of her juice and smacked her lips contentedly, allowing the cool, tangy-sweet liquid to flood her body with new life and energy. “Besides, the fruit cake’s important. If it had been chocolate cake I might not have left the office that day.”

“Fair point,” Daring conceded. “But can we skip to the part where Hooves comes in?”

“Fine, but you’ll be missing an interesting adventure involving Ninja Ponies, an existential crisis and the world’s biggest jam doughnut!” Angel gulped down the last of her juice and called for another glass.

“Really?”

“Na, I’m just yanking your chain.” The Bat Pony sniggered at Daring’s disappointed pout and upturned her glass over her mouth, tapping the bottom to try and coax the clinging ice cubes to fall.

When her fresh apple juice arrived, Angel instantly abandoned her battle of wills with the stubborn ice cubes and set upon her new tangy beverage with a foalish glee, draining half the glass in a single gulp. “Ah, this stuff is awesome! So much better than the concentrated kind we get back home. Anyway, Hooves.

“It had been a few hours since I arrived at the train station. There had only been one train that whole time, and they were hauling vegetables. Despite my fillyish charms, they were all carrot and no fun so I ended up spending most of the time learning how to play Prodder with Gus, the old station attendant. He said there was only one train left to come in that day, so I figured I’d try my luck, and if I struck out with them, there would still be enough daylight for one Gale Surfing session. Little did I know; the stallion on that train would become a full time gig all by himself.”

~~~

“Straight flush! Better luck next time Gus!”

“Aw dang it, three in a row. Are you sure you’ve never played this game before, young filly?” The grey, old Earth Pony in a smart, if faded, blue vest and hat with a heavy iron ticket belt strapped securely around his barrel, threw his cards down on the empty vegetable crate the pair were using as a makeshift table and sighed. Angel giggled and scooped up the cards, beginning the tricky task of reshuffling the deck.

“What can I say? I’m a fast learner. That and you lick your lips every time you have a good hoof.”

“Ah, that’s a sly trick, young filly. I guess it’s just a mercy we weren’t playing for bits.” While Angel dealt the cards, Gus turned towards the tracks and sniffed the air. He pulled an old fob watch from a small pouch on his ticket belt and checked the time. “Well blow me down. They’re early for once.”

Angel glanced up from her hoof, one ear pricked. “Who is? I don’t hear anything.”

Gus gave a dry, knowing chuckle. “Young filly, you’ll feel it before you hear it, and you’ll smell it before you feel it. The train’s coming, a passenger engine, according to the schedule. Which I think means that’s enough cards for now. You’d best go grab your pamphlets.”

Angel scrunched her nose for a moment before turning to retrieve her saddle bags. She had a bad hoof anyway. Trotting out to the edge of the platform she squinted along the tracks and tried to spot the train in the distance. After a few minutes of nothing, she turned back and scowled at Gus.

“Gus, you old liar, there’s no train. Is it so bad losing to a mare that you have to make stuff up?” With a single flap of her wings, she hopped back over to the crate and reached for the deck. “That’s it. We’re playing for bits now.”

Gus wasn’t listening. He had retreated back into the office and was methodically checking he had everything ready to greet the new arrivals. He opened the front window and positioned himself behind it, standing as straight and presentable as his considerable years would allow.

Angel walked over and rapped the window. “Hello? You can cut the act Gus. I’m not falling for it. Look, there’s clearly no...”

Angel stopped and looked down at her hooves. A faint rumbling was coming up through the platform. She turned to Gus who was just standing bemusedly behind his till. She closed her eyes and sniffed the air. There were the usual smells like snow, pine, dried fruits, and, for some reason nopony could ever figure out, chlorine, but Angel realised, if she focused hard, there was another faint smell being carried on the breeze. “Coal?”

Walking to the very edge of the platform, Angel once again looked down the track, this time straining her ears. After another few minutes, during which the rumbling got progressively stronger, she finally heard the faint squeal of metal on metal. A moment later, a tiny plume of smoke could be seen cresting the horizon. Her jaw dropped, and her head slowly pivoted until she was facing the old Earth Pony. “How in the hay did you do that?!”

Gus chuckled and gave a gentle shrug. “Ponies have their tells, so do trains. Step back behind the yellow line please.”

Angel shook her head and backed away from the edge, a lopsided smile crossing her face. “You ever think you’ve been at this job too long, Gus?”

A few minutes later, the train came to a grinding halt and the engineer stepped out of his cabin. He flicked a lever opening all the doors of the carriages and took a deep breath. “Last stop, Transylmaneia Station, everypony out!”

It was a good thing Angel had covered her ears for the train’s arrival or the bellow might have deafened her. When she was sure it was safe, she lifted her head and looked around. Save for the engineer, the platform was as empty as it had been before the train’s arrival. Angel frowned and trotted over. “Um, excuse me. I’ll admit I don’t know the ins and outs of the business, but isn’t a passenger train supposed to have, you know, passengers on it?”

“It does have a passenger.” The engineer grinned proudly and pointed towards the caboose, “one first class fare.”

Angel cocked her head towards the back of the train then back at the engineer. “You came all the way to Transylmaneia with just one passenger? Who is it, Princess Celestia?”

“Ha, I wish. Na, it’s just some bigwig from Trotingham. Would have turned him away ‘cause nopony else was coming, but he paid for first class. Costs about as much as fifty regular tickets, so who was I to argue?”

For the second time in minutes, Angel’s jaw dropped. A pony who was willing to pay so much to come to, what realistically amounted to the ends of the Earth, by himself, had ‘eccentric tourist’ written all over him. That or ‘bailiff’ and Angel was certain the town wasn’t in that much trouble... yet.

Another few minutes passed, but there was no movement from inside the caboose. “Are you sure he’s actually aboard? Maybe you left the station without him.”

“Trust me, he’s there.” The engineer grimaced like he had a bad taste in his mouth. “Wouldn’t stop talking to himself the whole way, like he was having an argument with his imaginary friend.”

Angel scratched her head and approached the caboose a little more slowly than she otherwise would have. The closer she got the more she could make out the indistinct muttering. It did indeed sound like a heated argument with one half missing. She cautiously poked her head into the open door and drew a breath to begin the welcome speech she had planned, only to let out a yelp of surprise and duck, narrowly avoiding being hit by a high velocity banana cream pie.

~~~

“He threw a pie at you?”

Some time had passed since they arrived, and the tavern was coming to life. The regulars sunk into the grooves they had moulded through years of dedicated patronage, the bartender chatted away with the ponies that had just popped in for an early lunch, and Daring and Angel were enjoying some garden salad sandwiches.

Daring had to hand it to Angel, for a pony that looked tired enough to pass out any second, she could talk. Daring had barely had to contribute to the conversation the entire time. Angel, for her part, was munching away on her sandwich, seemingly too engrossed in her food to care about all the sideways looks her unusual appearance was drawing. She finished the last bite and rocked back on her chair, rubbing her belly and licking the stray crumbs from her face.

“In fairness, it wasn’t meant for me.”

~~~

Narrowly avoiding decapitation by pastry, Angel staggered backwards, tripping over her own hooves in her panic and falling to her rump amidst a sudden confetti of pamphlets.

Before she could recover, or even remove the pamphlet that had fallen neatly across her nose, her wild-eyed assailant had invaded her personal space and was looking her up and down. Just as Angel was contemplating a buck and run, the brown Earth Pony blinked and stepped back, offering her a hoof. “I’m terribly sorry about that, dear girl. For a moment there, I thought you were that loutish buffoon of an engineer. His incessant clattering has caused no end of distraction the entire journey.”

Angel accepted the hoof up and, as an afterthought, shook the pamphlet off her face. “Uh, that’s okay. I guess I should have knocked or something.”

Remembering why she was there, Angel snatched up the pamphlet she had just dropped and held it out to the new arrival. She put on her best greeting-new-ponies smile and cleared her throat. “Ahem. Welcome to Transylmaneia, Equestria’s northernmost settlement and the one and only homeland of the Bat Ponies! I’m Angel Beats, and I represent the Transylmaneian Tourist Board. If you’d like to come with me, I’d be happy to walk you through the town's history and show you all the best sights our beautiful town has to offer, completely free of charge!”

“You’re wrong.” In the few seconds Angel had been talking, the Earth Pony had scanned through the pamphlet, tossed it over his shoulder and begun trotting away. “With the re-emergence of the Crystal Empire, Transylmaneia is no longer Equestria’s northernmost settlement. Also, you’ve made no less than thirteen errors in spelling and grammar in your pamphlet. Dreadfully unprofessional.”

Angel’s ears fell, but her smile remained resolutely fixed in place. She gave a half-hearted laugh and muttered under her breath. “Ha ha, everypony’s a critic.”

Chasing after the new arrival, Angel forced her voice to remain bright and cheerful. “I’m very sorry about the mistake sir. I assure you the facts in the pamphlet were entirely accurate when it was printed. As for the spelling and stuff, I can only apologise. We’re a small operation, and we do our best.”

“Ms Beats!” The Earth Pony rounded on Angel, fixing her with a glare that could melt lead. To her credit, Angel’s smile barely faltered. If she was going to strike out, at least she could say she did her best. “There is one thing I cannot abide and that is flank-kissers. If all you can offer me is a false smile and a ‘learn by rote’ speech then I would ask you to kindly take your business elsewhere and leave me to mine.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and resumed walking away. Angel’s smile fell. She had known her share of difficult ponies, but that was just rude. “Well fine! I hope you get frostbite, you no good warthog! What kind of self-obsessed jerk throws a friendly hello back in a pony’s face like that? Go fall asleep in the snow. That stick up your rump would make you the perfect pony popsicle!”

Angel instantly regretted her outburst when the Earth Pony froze mid-stride and about-faced. She lowered her head and unfurled her wings a little in case she needed to make a quick getaway. In the blink of an eye, the Earth Pony had stomped back over to her and pressed his face into hers, his glare harsher than ever. He bared his teeth, and for a second Angel thought he was actually going to bite her. To her surprise, he not only didn’t bite her, but after the tension had become palpable, he actually fell back onto his haunches and burst into uproarious laughter.

“That’s what I like to see!” He roared. “A pony that isn’t afraid to speak their mind! Ms Beats,” he stood back up and shot a hoof out in front of the confused Bat Pony, “My name is Fetlock Hooves, and I do believe I’m in need of a guide. Though if you’re tired of working without profit then I have a proposition for you.”

~~~

“And I’ve kind of been working for him ever since as his personal tour guide and all-purpose assistant.”

Angel and Daring had just left the tavern and were heading back to Daring’s apartment. “It was a pretty sweet gig, actually. At first, he just wanted to see everything. You know, the general package. But then things started getting a little odd. He started wanting to talk to individual ponies, to find out about imports and exports, to see documentation and medical records and stuff. It all came to a head a few days ago when he offered me hundreds of bits to go to Equestria and find his old friend. He was panicking, looked like he hadn’t slept in days. I would have said no, but it was so much money, money my family could really use. If I can’t find Artemis Trotson and get him to Transylmaneia then I’ve just wasted a lot of time and bits on a wild goose chase.”

Daring bit her tongue and looked away, wondering how much she should tell Angel. The poor mare had come such a long way. Would she be overjoyed to hear that Artemis was on his way to Transylmaneia as they spoke, or would she be devastated to find out that her employer wouldn’t be there to welcome him? She hoped Angel had a contract.

“Angel,” she laid a hoof companionably on the other mare’s shoulder. “I have some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?”

Author's Note

Okay, now comes my favourite part. My latest excuse for why the chapter's late!
Not much to tell really. A series of peculiar events involving time travel, a debate with Mark Twain on the merits of amphibious match fixing, a severely sleep deprived griffon, a genie who fancied herself a DJ and a life or death struggle with a particularly cunning mongoose, simply kept me from my computer.
But enough of my hum-drum real life, back to ponies!
Big thanks to my new team of proof readers. They made the discordian hodge-podge that is my brain child into a halfway coherent narrative. Hip, hip, hooray!

Chapter Four- Eulogy

Chapter Four: Eulogy

By Feather Scratch

Proof Read by Comet Burst, q97randomguy and mr jerrio

As the snow capped mountains of the Frozen North loomed in the distance, Artemis glared at the blurring train tracks before him. His eyes were heavy. He hadn’t slept since the night before his trip to Ponyville, and the fatigue of spending so long on the move was beginning to creep up. But he couldn’t stop. His mind was racing, and he needed to get to Transylmaneia as soon as possible, if, for no other reason, than to find closure.

Hooves was dead. It didn’t seem possible. A part of him was convinced this was all some elaborate hoax by the wily, old detective to get Artemis back by his side, working on another case. It felt like the kind of thing he’d do. But no, if this was another of his attention-grabbing stunts, he would have put in considerably more effort. He would have sent a full letter detailing some elaborate act of heroism and self-sacrifice or a sinister ransom note pieced together from newspaper clippings, not a cheap, painfully concise telegram.

He was dead. But the questions of how and why kept racing through Artemis mind. Did the old fool finally bite off more than he could chew, or was it just some dumb accident? He could have choked on a chunk of carrot for all Artemis knew. But if it was a random accident, why would the local guard have sent the telegram instead of the hospital?

He had questions, and he wasn’t going to leave Transylmaneia until he was satisfied with the answers.

~~~

Gus yawned as he unlocked the padlock on the makeshift door that had been erected around what had once been his ticket office. The dawn sun was barely cresting the horizon, and, save for the Night Watch making their last rounds, the town was still largely in the blissful throws of slumber. He took a deep breath of frosty air and let out a low, contented sigh. The night may belong to the Bat Ponies and the day to the Earth Ponies, but here, in this corner of the world, the twilight hours belonged only to Gus.

Or at least, they usually did.

Gus turned to the tracks and gave a few sharp sniffs. An unscheduled arrival was coming. He shook his head and hurried to complete his morning chores. It wouldn’t have killed them to call ahead.

Twenty minutes later, the train arrived. The dull, angular engine ground to a screeching halt, and the wheels had barely stopped turning when the engineer hopped out and proceeded at a brisk trot over to Gus. He looked irritable.

“Equestria Metro Train 221 B, making an unscheduled arrival.” Artemis voice cracked a little as he spoke. A cocktail of sadness, anger, and fatigue was swimming around in his head, diluting his patience, and he didn’t want to waste any more time on formalities than he had to.

Gus took the hint, biting back the reprimand he had been working on in his head, instead just wordlessly jotting down the information in his official ledger. He cleared his throat. “I need your name and purpose of visit.”

“Artemis Trotson. I was summoned by the local guard to identify a body.” Artemis rubbed the bridge of his nose. It didn’t feel right talking about Hooves like he was just another statistic. “He was a friend.”

Gus’ ears splayed as he made his notes. Finishing, he spat out the quill and cleared away the ledger. “Geez, I’m sorry to hear that, son. It wasn’t Dusk Thunder, was it?”

“Who?” Artemis looked back at the older stallion, cocking his head to one side.

“Young Dusk Thunder of the Night Watch.” Gus sighed and shook his head, gesturing to the wreckage of his ticket office. “We had a pretty nasty storm come through here a few days ago. Everypony who lives in these parts knows, in weather like that, you stay inside and batten down the hatches. But some dang fool tourist tried to make a break for this here station. I guess he figured he could outrun the storm or some such. Young Dusk Thunder went out after him, tried to bring him back inside, but...”

Gus closed his eyes and laid a hoof on the ticket belt, resting on the counter. “You see, the storm came on suddenly. We didn’t have time to store everything before we had to take cover. The guards say that when Dusk Thunder caught up to the tourist, the wind must have kicked up a loose crate. It knocked both of them clear through the front of this office. Dusk Thunder, poor colt, caught his head on this very ticket belt.” He patted the belt for emphasis. “Smashed my pocket watch so it’s stuck at five to midnight.” He looked down and shook his head. “At least they got an exact time of death.”

Artemis ran his eyes over the ticket belt, noticing the faint trails of lingering dried blood creeping out from between the hard-to-clean seams of the iron box’s sharpest edge. “Poor guy. What happened to the tourist?”

Gus scrunched up his nose and gave his head a weary shake. “As horrible a fate as it was, I think Dusk got off easy. One blow to the head, and he was out like a light. He probably didn’t even see it coming. The tourist, on the other hoof... Well, I couldn’t tell you exactly what happened. The guards aren’t too keen on disturbing folks with the grizzly details, but, let’s just say, the poor soul must have felt it.”

Artemis paled and felt the contents of his stomach make a spirited effort to join the conversation. “How many ponies died that night?” He managed to choke out.

“Just the two, thank Celestia. Folks here are too smart to die often, but when it happens, it hurts all of us.” Gus took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Anyways, you didn’t come all this way to listen to some old coot prattle on. The Watch House is right by the Town Hall. Just follow the road from the main gate straight ahead. You can’t miss it.”

Artemis nodded, muttered his thanks, and stalked off towards the slowly waking town. And so ends the illustrious career of the great Fetlock Hooves, genius amongst geniuses, stalwart enemy of crime and villainy Equestria over, a victim of a freak weather accident. Artemis snorted. Like heck that was how it ended.

~~~

As much as he wanted to hurry to the Watch House and get his grim business over with, Artemis couldn’t help but slow his pace to take in the sheer oddity of the town he was walking through. Transylmaneia seemed like the middle ground between a quiet, little village, like any other, and a shanty town. The misaligned rows of small houses and shops looked like they were pieced together with supplies only intended for half as many buildings, leaving the gaps to be filled in with whatever junk was lying around. There were walls made from cannibalised wagons, roof tiles made from carefully laid crockery, and he was sure the windows on one house were simply painted on.

The further into town he went, the less patchwork his surroundings became. The rows were neater, and the rather sombre-looking stone buildings were increasingly uniform, with only a few hasty patches to act as battle scars from the never-ending war against time and erosion.

At the very centre of town stood a tall, rectangular tower with narrow windows and a flat roof lined with battlements at regular intervals. Unlike the other buildings in town, the tower was clearly well-maintained. An intricately carved, wooden banner above the entrance proclaimed the tower as ‘Town Hall,’ and two large Earth Pony stallions in heavily worn, battle scarred iron armour stood at attention on either side, ready to defend their heart of government from any threat that may arise.

Artemis gave a soft whistle and shook his head. The guards looked like they had been through a dozen wars before breakfast and won. It seemed that life in the middle of nowhere, cut off from any immediate aid, made certain ponies hard as dragon scales.

An impact to his shoulder snapped him out of his musings and nearly made him lose his footing on the uneven cobbles. “Sorry,” his accidental assailant muttered before trotting off in the direction of the outer wall. Frowning, Artemis blinked after the hooded pony as he, or she, disappeared down a side street. His frown deepened to a scowl as he twisted a hoof in one ear. The pony’s voice had sounded... weird. It had an odd resonance that made it sound like several voices talking at once.

He gave his head a firm shake. He had been awake too long. Looking around at the nearby buildings, he tried to spot one that looked like it might be called home by ponies that could crush his skull with a verbal warning.

A few metres to the left of Town Hall stood a squat, granite building with barred windows and a heavy oak door that looked wide enough for three ponies to walk through, shoulder to shoulder, without touching the sides and strong enough to weather an attack by a rabid pack of timber wolves. That looked like the place.

Taking a moment to mentally prepare for what he would soon see, Artemis drew himself up to his full height and knocked as hard as he could on the dense wood of the Watch House door.

A minute passed. He could hear muffled voices from the other side of the door. Artemis raised his hoof again when the storm shutters behind one of the barred windows swung open, and a helmeted head popped into view. “Who goes there? State your business.”

Artemis reached inside the engineer’s cap he had neglected to remove and withdrew the telegram, holding it up for the guard to see. “My name’s Artemis Trotson. You sent for me.”

The shutters closed, and there was more indistinct dialogue. Artemis harrumphed and shoved the telegram back under his cap. He got the impression pony skills weren’t a prerequisite for guards in these parts. A minute later, the shutters flew open again, and the helmeted pony was back. “You here for the stiff?”

Artemis recoiled and sputtered, biting back a barbed reprimand. Instead, he squared his shoulders and growled through gritted teeth. “If, by that, you mean am I here to identify and retrieve the body of my friend, then yes.”

The guard narrowed his eyes, slowly and deliberately looking Artemis up and down. When he reached whatever conclusion he had been looking for, he nodded with a grunt, closed the shutters, and, after much scraping and rattling as locks were undone, dragged open the door. He stepped aside and waved his hoof for Artemis to enter.

“Sorry about the rude welcome.” The guard’s voice was a deep bass, the kind of sound with such force of presence that all other sounds seemed to disappear every time he spoke. “These parts are dangerous. Can’t be too careful when it comes to strangers.”

Artemis nodded in understanding. Security all over had been stepped up following the Changeling attack on Canterlot. In a small, isolated town like Transylmaneia, any new face was bound to be treated with suspicion.

The guard shut the heavy door with a grunt and jerked his head towards the far side of the building. He absentmindedly waved a hoof for the other guard on duty to stand down and lead the way through the bare, stone hall.

The inside of the guard house was entirely unremarkable. It had clearly been built for efficiency rather than aesthetics. If there was one word to describe it, it would be “solid”. Stone walls bore caged torch racks. office doors were of the same heavy oak as the front door, and inch thick, pig-iron bars ensured that even the most savage and unruly of prisoners stayed where they were put.

Artemis tried his best not to look at the cells, lest uncomfortable memories be dredged to the surface. He instead kept his eyes firmly fixed on the guard leading the way. The stallion was, frankly, massive. The only pony he had seen that was any taller was Princess Celestia herself, and even then, the stallion’s sheer muscle mass must have made him at least twice as heavy. Scars criss-crossed just about every inch of exposed flesh, giving his dull gray coat an uneven, patchwork look. His armour, unlike the plain iron of his colleagues’, showed lingering traces of bronze ornamentation. It may have been quite striking once upon a time, before life and duty put it through its paces.

“So, Captain, I didn’t catch your name.”

The guard captain glanced over his shoulder, cocking an eyebrow at Artemis. “How could you tell who I was?”

“Your sparkling personality,” Artemis quipped, rolling his eyes.

The captain smirked, giving a very low chuckle. “Name’s Captain Blossom. I’m head of the Day Watch. Captain Curare is head of the Night Watch. You just missed her.”

Artemis choked, trying with all his might to repress the laughter forcing its way to the surface. “Captain ‘Blossom?’ That’s a... unique name.”

Blossom snorted. “You got a problem with that?” Artemis flinched and shook his head fervently. “My folks wanted a filly, alright? They had already gotten all the stuff made special by the time I was born. Here abouts, there aren’t many places to trade in engraved cribs, so I became Blossom.”

Poor guy, thought Artemis. Still, a name like that would give a stallion something to prove. No wonder he looked so tough. He was wondering how many of the other guards had silly names when he noticed his breath start to mist before his eyes. They had come to a stop before a large, metal door.

“This is it.” Blossom pulled the door open and led the way inside. A wall of cold greeted them, and Artemis had to bite down on his tongue to keep his teeth from chattering. The walls of the morgue were filled, floor to ceiling, with deep shelves. Every other shelf housed a large block of cut ice, keeping the room at a constant freezing. The shelves devoid of ice contained retractable gurneys for those ponies unfortunate enough to come to an untimely end.

Blossom trotted over to the only occupied shelf and pulled out the gurney. A white sheet covered the still form. “You ready for this?” Artemis said nothing but set his jaw and gave a single, curt nod.

Blossom pulled back the sheet to reveal an aged Earth Pony Artemis knew all too well.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head with a sigh. “That’s him.” He looked up at the face of his mentor, scanning, hoping for any traces of trickery. He glanced behind the ears, looking for surgical scars. He checked the eyes for the ragged irises that would indicate magical tampering. He even combed through the mane, rubbing and sniffing for any traces of dyes. There had to be something, anything. There was nothing, nothing but the peacefully neutral expression of the recently dead. He rubbed his forehead and placed a hoof on Hooves’ shoulder. He let out a sound halfway between a sigh and a growl. “How did it happen?”

Blossom picked up the clipboard attached to the gurney and flicked through a few pages. “It says here: cause of death was ‘internal haemorrhaging due to a single laceration to the cardiovascular system.’ Basically means, he was skewered through the heart.

“Guy was a mess when we brought him in. Doc cleaned him up as best he could. Found a shard of glass eight inches long wedged between his ribs. Must have been dead in minutes.”

Artemis ran his eyes over every cut, bruise and swelling he could see. It seemed there wasn’t an inch of his old friend unmarred. He had everything from lacerations on his hooves to a large, vivid bruise on his neck.

Artemis’ gaze rested on the long, neatly stitched wound on Hooves chest. He leaned in for a closer look. “Captain, could I see that shard of glass?”

Blossom raised an eyebrow at the morbid request but shrugged and moved over to the desk in the corner of the room, returning a moment later with the jagged shrapnel in a clear plastic bag. Artemis took it and examined it carefully, glancing between it and the wound. After a few minutes of scrutiny, Artemis gave a noncommittal hum and set down the shard. “Captain, could I speak with the coroner?”

“Why? You find something?”

Artemis waved a hoof and did his best to give a reassuring smile. “No, no, nothing like that. I’d just like a few of the more technical details cleared up for me before I take him home. You know, for peace of mind.”

Blossom narrowed his eyes, glancing between Artemis, the shard, and the body, scanning for traces of deceit or anything he may have missed. When he couldn’t find any, he grunted. “Doc’s not here right now. He’s busy tending to another body. If you really want to see him, come back tonight. He’ll wrap up your friend for travel, and you can ask him all the questions you want.”

“This other body,” Artemis asked, frowning and tapping a hoof on his chin. “It wouldn’t be Dusk Thunder from the Night Watch, would it?”

Blossom’s eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

Artemis gave a theatrical sigh and replaced his hoof on Hooves’ shoulder, staring morosely at the body. “I heard he died trying to save my friend. It’d take a brave pony to go out into that storm for the sake of a stranger. I’d like to pay my last respects, if I could. Maybe you could take me to the coroner, and I can kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.”

The guard captain’s expression was stony, but a flicker in his eyes told Artemis he had hit the right note. They stood in silence for several minutes with nothing but the faint clouds from their breath to indicate there weren’t three bodies in the room. Blossom was the first to crack. He gave an exasperated sigh and scratched the back of his neck. “Alright, fine. But look, Doc’s office is downtown. Non-Bat Ponies usually aren’t supposed to go down there. I can get you in, but you’ll need to be escorted the whole time. You wander off or cause trouble in any way; you’ll be spending the night in a cell. Got it?”

Artemis nodded. Blossom gave another sigh, replaced the sheet over Hooves, and slid the gurney back into the shelf. “Do not make me regret this.”

Blossom lead the way out of the morgue. Artemis followed silently, pausing only for a second to adjust his cap. There was a faint rustling of plastic from underneath.

~~~

“Wait here.”

They had left the Watch House and made their way through the town until they were clear on the far side from the main gate. They stood at the base of the largest mountain in the area. It was so tall the top disappeared into the clouds, and the sides were so steep that from below it looked almost like a sheer, vertical climb.

From where he had been told to wait, Artemis could just see Blossom approach the flat rock face and knock. He muttered something Artemis couldn’t make out, and a moment later, much to Artemis’ surprise, a section of the wall, as blank and unassuming as any other, lowered down into the ground with a metallic rumble. Blossom muttered a few more indistinct words with the shadowy figures inside before turning back to Artemis and jerking his head to follow.

“Alright, you can go in.” He pointed at the pair of iron clad Bat Ponies standing at the entrance. They weren’t nearly as big as the Earth Pony guards, but they were lean and every bit as battle scarred and fierce looking. “These are members of the Night Watch. They’ll be your escorts. Give them any trouble, and you’ll answer to me. Got it?”

Artemis smiled and saluted. “Yes, Sir, Captain Blossom, Sir!”

Blossom grumbled something about civilians before stalking off, back to town, leaving Artemis alone with the Bat Ponies. He gave them his friendliest wave. “Hi, fellas! I’d like to see the coroner, please.”

The two Bat Ponies just glared until he lowered his hoof and wiped the smile from his face. Seemingly satisfied he was taking the situation seriously enough, one of the guards grunted, “Follow us.”

The instant Artemis crossed the threshold, one of the guards flipped a lever, and the door to the entrance ground shut. He was escorted, closely, down a long, dimly lit tunnel for what felt like an hour. He couldn’t tell how high or wide the tunnel was, and, if it wasn’t for the guards flanking him, he probably would have lost track of which way was backwards and which was forwards.

A sudden change in air pressure and the creaking of wooden boards under his hooves told him they had finally left the tunnel. His eyes hadn’t quite adjusted to the darkness, but the distant echo of hundreds of voices and the occasional darting shadow high over his head made it clear that, wherever they were, it was big.

He whistled, listening for the amplified echo and counting the beats between each one. “So, this is downtown Transylmaneia, is it? Roomy.”

“This way.” The guard on his right nudged him, firmly, on the shoulder and turned left, leading the way along the wooden walkway. As they walked, Artemis strained his senses, trying to make out the details of his surroundings. The voices seemed to be coming from all directions at once, he could smell water and there was an odd, iridescent glow coming from somewhere. It wasn’t enough to illuminate much, but it did seem to highlight the water’s surface.

The trio came to a stop outside a small alcove in the cavern wall about as large as a modest bedroom. The guard Artemis had come to think of as Lefty McOverbite walked to the back of the alcove and pulled on a rope hanging on the wall. There was the faint sound of a jingling bell from some deeper recesses Artemis couldn’t make out, and, a moment later, another Bat Pony emerged from the shadows. He had a haggard but friendly look and was wearing a white lab coat.

“This pony wants to see Dusk Thunder.” Lefty jerked his head towards the visitor. “Captain Blossom says it’s okay.”

The coroner nodded and smiled at Artemis. “Well, in that case, come in sir. Make yourself at home.” He pointed him down a set of stone steps at the back of the alcove. Turning back to the guards, he added, “Would you gentlecolts mind waiting here? Thank you so much.”

Once they had reached the lower floor, the coroner brushed past Artemis and, a moment later, produced a crate which, upon opening, flooded the room with brilliance akin to a magnesium flare. Artemis recoiled with a shout of surprise. “Woops, sorry. Probably should have given you a warning eh? Not to worry, your eyes will adjust in a second. Better we light this place up, rather than have you stumbling around in the dark.”

“What are those things?” Artemis rubbed his eyes, trying to rid his vision of swirling stars as the coroner flitted across the room, fitting the glowing things into notches on the walls.

“Hum? Oh, we call them Sun Stones. They’re rarefied versions of the Star Stones that line the cavern’s lake bed. It’s quite a sight to behold, the lake. You know, if you look at it from above, it looks just like an upside down night sky! Pity, tourists never get to see it.”

“You don’t say.” Artemis muttered as he followed the coroner down another flight of stairs. The Bat Pony seemed remarkably chipper for somepony who worked with the dead for a living.

As the coroner set to work illuminating the morgue, Artemis couldn’t help but notice a distinct difference between this and the morgue at the Watch House. Where the one at the Watch House had the same, somewhat cobbled-together, look of the rest of the town and was half-filled with ice blocks, this morgue looked like it had been hoof-cut out of the solid, mountain rock itself, and, while it was every bit as cold as the other morgue, there was no ice to be seen.

“We’re under the lake’s surface,” said the coroner, as though reading Artemis’ mind. “Keeps the place nice and chilly without having to bother with ice.”

With the room lit, the coroner trotted over to the operating table in the centre of the room where the body of a powerfully built, young Bat Pony lay next to a tray of surgical tools. “Here he is. His family is coming by later today to pick him up. I’m just trying to make him look a little bit more presentable.”

Artemis scanned the body. Strange. Apart from the broad, inverted-pyramid shaped welt in his skull, he seemed completely unmarred. If he had been thrown through the wall of the ticket office with Hooves, then he should have similar abrasions. Either the coroner was a cosmetic miracle worker and simply hadn’t gotten round to Hooves yet, or something wasn’t right.

“Poor guy. My condolences.” Artemis lowered his head in a moment of silence before looking up to meet the coroner’s gaze. “If you don’t mind, I have a question about the pony he tried to save, Doctor...”

“Oh, Harvest Moon,” he extended a hoof, which Artemis bumped. “Sure, ask away Mister...”

“Artemis Trotson. Doctor Moon, are you certain a shard of glass was the cause of death? It’s just that... I’ve seen my share of wounds, and I could have sworn the one in Hooves’ chest was made by a knife.”

“You know, that same thought did cross my mind when I was stitching him up.” Doctor Moon scratched his chin thoughtfully. “But I dug out that glass shard personally. It was definitely the culprit.”

Artemis hummed thoughtfully, allowing his gaze to drift and tapping a hoof on the floor. “What about the bruising on his neck? It looked an awful lot like a hoof mark.”

“Indeed it was.” Doctor Moon confirmed. “The severity of the bruising would indicate that Dusk Thunder fell on Hooves during the commotion. Dusk was a big fella. Frankly, I’m surprised the damage wasn’t any worse than it was. I’d say Hooves was lucky, but the sentiment is somewhat lost on the dead.”

Doctor Moon frowned and moved around the table to look Artemis in the eye. “Mister Trotson,” his voice was hesitant but bore a slight edge of suspicion. “Are you trying to imply, your friend’s death wasn’t an accident?”

Artemis chuckled and waved a hoof dismissively. “Oh no, of course not. I guess I’m just grasping at straws.” He splayed his ears and avoided eye contact. “Hooves was a dear friend, and I think I’m just having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that something as mundane as the weather could have gotten the better of him.”

The coroner gave a soft smile and nodded sympathetically, placing a companionable hoof on Artemis’ shoulder. “I guess we all deal with death in different ways. Looking for somepony to blame is only natural, but you’ve got to understand that, sometimes, accidents just happen.”

Artemis closed his eyes and gave a single nod. “I think I’ve seen what I came to see. Right now, I just want to take my friend home and give him a proper send-off. Would you mind getting him ready so we can go?”

“Have the others all confirmed his identity?”

Artemis’ ears perked up, and he cocked his head to one side. “Others? What others?”

The coroner trotted over to his desk and, after some rifling, withdrew a folder. He flipped through a few pages before tapping a hoof on the one he was looking for. “Mister Hooves had five emergency contacts listed in his medical records, though one seems to have been struck out. Captain Blossom sent out messages to all of you, so, until we get confirmation, or at least a reply, from all four still listed, I’m afraid I can’t release Hooves into your custody.”

“What?!” Artemis’ voice echoed back from the stone walls. “So I have to wait here for Celestia knows how long, just so three other ponies can confirm what I’ve already told you? All the while Hooves just gets to rot on some shelf?”

Doctor Moon’s ears splayed, and he raised a hoof defensively. “Mister Trotson, please, calm down. I’m afraid this is just standard procedure. We need to wait for confirmation from all four names listed. If, however, no other contact comes forward after a week, you’ll be allowed to take him home.”

Artemis sighed and rubbed his temple. Why couldn’t anything ever be simple? He fixed Doctor Moon with a tired gaze and asked, “Where’s the nearest telegram office?”

Doctor Moon scratched his chin and hummed thoughtfully. “Well, there’s a telegram at the Watch House, but that’s for official use only. There’s a public-access telegram at the Wagon Wheel Inn though. You’ll probably end up there anyway if you’ll be staying for a while. It’s the only lodging you’ll find for miles.”

Artemis muttered his thanks and turned to leave.

“Oh, Mister Trotson?”

Artemis paused and glanced over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for your loss. My daughter knew Hooves. I’m still trying to figure out how to break the news to her when she gets back.”

Artemis nodded and left the morgue.

~~~

The Wagon Wheel Inn was, to say the least, aptly named. After Town Hall, the inn was easily the largest building in town. It seemed to be constructed entirely from disassembled settler wagons, and a single, large wagon wheel hung from a signpost by the entrance.

A bell tinkled as Artemis opened the door. The inside was spotlessly clean, and, surprisingly, it seemed every effort had been made to make the place as warm and welcoming as possible. The walls were freshly varnished in deep ochre, thick carpets covered the floor, and a log fire crackled merrily in the cobblestone hearth.

At the sound of the bell, an Earth Pony mare dashed out from behind the reception desk and flashed Artemis a broad, toothy grin. “Welcome to the Wagon Wheel, where weary travellers rest their heavy heads! A’m Rough Diamond and A’ll be y’ur host for as long as ya care to stay.”

She had freckles, a light brown coat, a long, straw coloured mane and tail tied back in braids, and wore an old, red and white dress with a corset. Everything from her accent to her demeanour screamed down-home charm, and Artemis couldn’t help but return the smile. “Hi, I’m Artemis, and I’d like a room please.”

The mare’s grin grew even wider at that. She grabbed Artemis’ hoof and shook it vigorously, almost lifting the poor stallion clear off his hooves in her enthusiasm. “Well, it’s great to meet ya, Artemis! You bet your hind leg you can have a room. The more the merrier! Why, yer only the second pony today to check in so you can take yer pick.”

“Business is slow, huh?”

Rough Diamond shrugged. “Meh, business ain’t exactly boomin’ anywhere in town. The only ones who ever seem to get any kind of regular work are the guards, and I don’t envy ‘em. We used to have a fair enough tourist industry, but, ever since the whole Crystal Empire thing, that’s pretty much dried up.”

“So, how come the town hasn’t gone bankrupt?”

“Oh, don’t you fret none, darlin’.” Rough Diamond chuckled and skipped back to the reception desk. “The Princesses wouldn’t let such an old town waste away. They send aid regular-like, and we still get a fair trade from the precious minerals that only form in these parts. We just gotta stay positive, an’ things ‘ll pick up.”

Artemis shook his head and chuckled to himself. It seemed the inn wasn’t the only aptly named thing in town. An eternal optimist in a town so down on its luck was a rough diamond indeed.

~~~

After sending his telegram to Daring, Rough Diamond let Artemis into the inn’s lounge where she’d be serving lunch. Like the main foyer, the room was warmly decorated with a crackling fire and several large, cushy armchairs. The only other occupant of the room was an orange maned Pegasus mare sitting by the fire pouring over a stack of letters. She glanced up at the sound of hooves and set down the letter she had been reading.

“Artemis, this here is Bright Eyes, the other guest I mentioned.” Rough Diamond waved a hoof at the Pegasus, beaming like she was showing of a prized trophy. “Bright Eyes, this here is Artemis. He just checked in.”

Artemis walked over to the mare and offered a hoof. She glanced at it for a second before giving a soft smile and accepting the bump. “Nice to meet you.”

Rough Diamond giggled and skipped to the door. “Now, why don’t you two get acquain’ed while I go fetch lunch? Back in a tick.”

With their hostess gone, Artemis sat down in the armchair opposite Bright Eyes and chuckled. “Rough Diamond’s quite the people pony, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.” Bright Eyes cleared away her letters, stuffing them in a saddle bag by her chair. “You know, when I showed up, she couldn’t stop going on about my being a Pegasus? Something about a Pegasus in Transylmaneia being as rare as an Earth Pony in Cloudsdale.”

“You know, now that I think about it, I have only seen Earth and Bat Ponies since I arrived here. I guess their weather team must be all Bat Ponies too.”

“Not likely.” Bright Eyes stretched her wings and popped her neck, shifting into a more comfortable position in her seat. “Bat Ponies are no good with weather. They can’t even sit on clouds. Not to mention Transylmaneia and the surrounding area are no-go spots for all weather teams. The tight mountain ranges and perpetual gale-force winds around the summits make it too hazardous.”

“Huh.” Artemis didn’t think it was possible for a weather front to scare away professional weather Pegasi. Maybe it wasn’t so strange that the local elements got the better of Hooves. “So, what brings you here? Seeing the sights?”

Bright Eyes snorted and cocked an eyebrow. “What sights? I’m sure this place has a lot of history and all, but frankly, I’ve seen more aesthetically appealing disaster areas. No,” -- her ears splayed and she looked down at her hooves-- “I’m here on personal business. An old acquaintance of mine just died, and I had to come and identify the body.”

“You ain’t talkin’ about Fetlock, are ya?” Rough Diamond asked as she came into the room pushing a trolley laden with bowls of stew and mugs of hot chocolate.

“Yeah, did you know him?”

“Know ‘im? Why, he stayed here the entire time he was in Transylmaneia. He was practically part of the family.” She unloaded the trolley and took a seat beside Artemis. “I was mighty broke up when he bit the big one.”

“Yeah, me too.” Bright Eyes picked up her mug and cradled it between her forehooves.

Artemis picked up his own mug and took a deep draught of its sweet, creamy contents. “And here I thought Hooves never had a way with mares.”

The two mares looked at him, brows raised. “It seems we’re here for the same reason. I assume you’ve been told we can’t take him back until the other two contacts show up?”

Bright Eyes harrumphed and took an angry bite of her stew. “Stupid red tape. I’d already be halfway back to Canterlot if I could. I mean, why does it take four ponies to identify one? I have ponies back home counting on me. I can’t just take a week off! My manager would kill me!”

“Tell me about it.” Artemis sighed. “I could be helping my goddaughter through a real rough patch right now. Instead, I’m here.” He wondered what Daring was doing at that very moment. “So... How did you know Hooves in the first place?”

“It’s a long story.” Bright Eyes grumbled.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we have nothing but time. Humour me. I hear some ponies consider it customary to swap stories of the recently dead.”

Bright Eyes sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Well, the cliff notes version would be; a few years ago I was a sergeant in the Royal Guard, one of only a few. When it came time for our Captain to retire, we sergeants got the chance to compete to fill the position. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and we all wanted it bad. Some, however, wanted it more than others.” She slumped back in her chair and stared into the fire, an air of sadness creeping into her voice. “When two of my colleagues turned up dead, foul play was suspected and I was the prime suspect.”

“How come?” Artemis furrowed his brow. “There were other sergeants vying for the position weren’t there? Surely you’d all be equally suspect.”

Bright Eyes waved her hoof in dismissal. “There was a bunch of evidence linking me to the crime, but I’m getting to that.

“Anyway, I’m sure you know, murder almost never happens in Equestria, and it hadn’t happened in Canterlot specifically in centuries. Because of this, the guard were woefully undertrained for dealing with such a situation.” She gave a half-hearted chuckle. “You know, for a while, I was genuinely worried I’d be facing a one way trip to the sun or something. Lucky for me though, Captain Manecroft had a brother in Trotingham with experience in these matters.”

“Hooves?”

“Yeah. He came in, all bluster and snark, proved the evidence against me was entirely circumstantial and uncovered the real killer so easily, anypony watching would have sworn it was all pre-rehearsed. It was one of the most amazing things I’d ever seen.

When all was said and done, I made him promise to send for me if he ever needed help. He saved my rump and I was adamant about repaying the favour.” The mare curled up in her chair, hugging her mug to her barrel. “I never thought this was how I’d be doing it.”

“I know how you feel.” Artemis stirred his stew around the bowl, any thoughts of hunger lost under a miasma of fatigue and melancholy. “Hooves and I didn’t exactly part ways on the best of terms. I always assumed we’d make peace eventually. I kept putting it off because I thought I had all the time in the world. I was stupid. A friend should never be a second priority.”

“Ah’m guessin’ y’all were close?” Rough Diamond chipped in, laying down her empty bowl.

Artemis chuckled. “Heh, you could say that. Heck, Hooves practically raised me.

“When I was young, you could say, I ran with the wrong crowd. Oh, we didn’t do anything major for the most part, just the usual street hooligan stuff; scrapping with other gangs, defacing public property with obnoxious gutter humour, loitering where we knew it would bother ponies, the usual stuff.

“The first time I met Hooves was when he caught me with my hoof in his pocket. In that situation, any other pony would have called the guard, right? Not Hooves. He just gave me a clip around the ear and showed me how to properly pick a pocket.”

Bright Eyes frowned and cocked her head to one side. “His response to being robbed was to turn the thief into a better thief?”

Artemis grinned and gave a little flourish with his hoof. “Hooves was a pony who always thought ten moves ahead. I guess he figured having an informant on the street who owed him was more useful than putting a nameless pick-pocket behind bars for a few days.”

“So, he was blackmailin’ ya?”

Artemis wobbled his hoof in a “so-so” fashion. “A little bit, at the start. It was less Hooves being mean and more, me being stubborn. But after he taught me a few more tricks and started giving me bits for every piece of useful information I brought him, I actually started to get into the whole ‘good guy’ thing.

“It all came to a head though, when my gang wanted to make the leap from petty hooligans to full blown criminals by hijacking a train. Now, I was no Celestia, not by a long shot, but I had to draw the line somewhere.”

“You quit the gang?”

“Not quite.” Artemis sighed. “I tried to convince them not to go through with it, that there’d be no going back, but they wouldn’t listen so, I went to Hooves and told him everything. I told him about the gang, what train we were going to hijack and when. I didn’t want any part of it, but he told me to play along, said they needed to be caught in the act before they could be brought to justice. So, I did. Heh, ironically, that night was when I discovered my special talent for driving.” He brushed his golden pocket watch cutie mark, a small smile crossing his lips.

“I pulled the train right into the station where Hooves and the guards were waiting. My gang got arrested and I became Hooves... ward? I guess.”

“So...” Rough Diamond fidgeted with her dress, hesitating before continuing. “Ya didn’t feel bad about turnin’ on yer friends?”

Artemis scratched his chin and hummed, thinking back. “I imagine at the time I wasn’t too thrilled. But, it was the right thing to do, and it all worked out in the end. When they had served their time, Hooves saw to it that they were all given a fair second chance and even set them up with apprenticeships. I even heard one of them joined the guard.”

Artemis drained the last of his hot chocolate and flashed the two mares a sad smile. “That was Hooves for you. Whenever he put criminals away, he liked to make sure criminals weren’t the ones let out again.”

The trio sat in silence for a long while, each lost in their own thoughts. The hearty meal had filled their bellies and the only sound in the room was the gentle crackling of the fire, its soft, flickering light lulling Artemis gently into a warm stupor.

He didn’t even notice himself falling asleep.

Author's Note

Yes, it's a little different. Please don't hate me!
See related blog post for a link to the original version.

Chapter Five- Stages of Grief

Chapter Five: Stages of Grief

By Feather Scratch

Proofread by Comet Burst, q97randomguy, and mr jerrio

High noon came and went over the old west town of Dodge Junction. Ponies, coarse and hardy as the desert they called home, ambled along the shaded walkways of the main thoroughfare, careful to avoid the worst of the harsh sun. Only two mares stood exposed on the main street, one somewhat more animated than the other.

“Hello? Hellooo, anypony hooome?” Daring Do waved a hoof in front of Angel’s face. She was starting to get worried. Angel hadn’t moved or even blinked since she broke the news of Hooves’ death. She had just froze mid-stride, halfway through raising a foreleg, and that had been nearly five minutes ago.

Daring fidgeted uneasily. Ponies in Dodge Junction were the type to mind their business if at all possible, but that didn’t stop them staring and whispering under their breath, and Daring could feel several sets of eyes drift their way. Leaning in, she gave Angel a tentative prod to the side of the head. The Bat Pony wobbled in place like a statue on the verge of falling, but did not break from her trance. Daring scanned her surroundings, trying to think of something to snap the comatose mare back to reality.

She shot her hoof out toward the horizon behind Angel and gasped. “Is that Princess Luna?!”

... Nothing. Daring harrumphed and scratched her chin. It was probably better that didn’t work. It felt like unfair profiling, just assuming a Bat Pony would be excited by the presence of the night princess.

Perhaps whatever this was worked like hiccups, and a good scare would shock her back. “Look out, dragon!” Daring dived behind a nearby barrel so dramatically, her cover artist would have given her two front teeth to capture the moment. When there was no sound of movement behind her, she poked her head out and snorted. So much for the hiccup theory.

Dragging her hooves, she trudged over until she was looking Angel square in the eye. She deadpanned, “Angel, your mane is on fire.”

The Bat Pony didn’t so much as twitch an ear.

Daring gave an aggravated groan and dragged a hoof down her face. Well, she had tried to be nice, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Leaving Angel to bake where she stood, Daring trotted back to the Final Chance Saloon and threw open the batwing doors. “Hey, Shine!”

The bartender looked up from the conversation he was having and jerked his head in acknowledgement to the mare who almost single-hoofidly justified him keeping the bar’s coffee machine.

“Quick, I need a bucket of water. Make sure it’s as cold as possible,” she added as an afterthought, trotting up to the bar and tapping a hoof on the counter for emphasis.

Shine cocked an eyebrow at the odd request, already halfway through reaching for a coffee mug.

“Don’t ask.” Daring sighed.

The stallion gave a noncommittal shrug before disappearing into the back room, emerging a minute later with a large bucket filled with iced water clutched in his teeth. He set it on the counter for Daring to collect. “You know, if you were thirsty, I’d recommend a nice, cool cider.”

“Hardy-har.” Daring rolled her eyes and snatched up the bucket, cantering back to the statuesque mare in the road as fast as she could without spilling her precious last resort.

She set the bucket down and removed Angel’s sun hat, securing it on her own head for safe keeping. “Last chance, Angel. You gonna snap out of it?” The Bat Pony didn’t as much as blink. For a moment the only sounds for miles were the wind and faint crack of ice cubes buckling under the heat. The small crowd the mares had gathered held their breath, anticipating what was about to happen. “Well, in that case, this is for your own good!”

Picking up the bucket, she flapped her wings to gain some height before unceremoniously dumping the contents of the bucket, ice cubes and all, directly onto Angel’s exposed head.

The spell broke instantly, and the poor mare shrieked in surprise as the freezing water crashed over her hot skin, almost instantly starting to evaporate in the early afternoon sun. Jumping straight into the air, she only narrowly avoided a full-on collision with her aquatic assailant. Half screaming, half gasping, she rounded on Daring, looking distinctly less cute and fluffy than she had a moment ago. Her unfurled bat wings, slitted pupils, sharp and narrow in the harsh desert sun, and her unnervingly sharp canines, barred in an indignant snarl, all came together to give her a distinctly nightmarish appearance.

Daring grinned sheepishly, surreptitiously hiding the bucket behind her back. “Hey, welcome back! Heh. Funny weather we’re having, huh?”

“What the hay, Daring?! What was that for?” The sodden mare landed with a flump on her haunches and began ringing out what little moisture still clung to her travelling cloak. Daring tossed the bucket off to the side and landed beside her, her face a mask of apology.

“Sorry, but when I told you about Fetlock Hooves dying, you kind of...” she spun a fetlock in a slow loop, trying to think of the nicest way to word it. “... switched off. I had to snap you out of it somehow, or you would have turned into a mummy in this heat.”

“You could have just... wait--” Angel dropped her cloak and sat bolt upright “--Hooves is dead?”

Daring groaned and made note of where she threw the bucket, just in case. Angel glared at the ground, her face contorted as though she were trying to solve a difficult equation in her head. “No.” She stated matter-of-factly, giving her head a fervent shake. “No, that can’t be right. Hooves can’t be dead. Yeah, he was a little bit screw-loose, but he was perfectly fine when I left.” She started ringing her forehooves, her eyes darting left and right. “I asked Rough Diamond to keep an eye on him. He can’t be gone when he still owes me money! Not after everything I’ve done for the jerk!”

Daring placed a hoof on the other mare’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I saw the telegram from the Day Watch myself. Artemis is probably there right now, identifying the body.”

“What?!” Angel shot to her hooves, her face twisting in anger. “You mean I’ve been blindly stumbling across half the country for days, when this Trotson guy could have just been sent for by telegram?!” Her voice cracking with the last word, Angel roared in frustration and delivered a vicious buck to a nearby hitching post, creating a long crack across the dense wood. “Argh! I knew that featherbrained ass was messing with me! Now I can’t even make him pay for it!” Another vicious kick snapped the post clean in half and sent the top half skipping like a skimmed stone down the dusty street. “Argh, I hate him!”

Daring fell to her haunches in the sand, stunned by the sudden flare of emotion. The tears welling up in the corners of the Bat Pony’s eyes and the repeated crack in her voice were proof, she wasn’t really angry, but if this was her idea of venting frustration, Daring hoped the town’s insurance was up to date. She glanced at the ruined hitching post and sighed inwardly. That was probably hundreds of years old.

Snorting like a bull at a red flag, Angel’s expression morphed from anger to worry. She hopped from hoof to hoof and looked on the verge of hyperventilation. “Oh, this is bad. I really needed that money.” She jumped over to Daring and shook her by the shoulders. “This was going to be my chance to dig my auntie’s business out of its rut. Hooves promised me this trip would be worth my while. I can still get the money, right?” A desperate pleading wheedled its way into her voice. “Even if he’s dead? We didn’t have anything written down but, an oral contract counts for something, doesn’t it?”

The Bat Pony looked on the verge of tears, and Daring wanted to reassure her, but it was taking all her willpower to keep from losing her breakfast due to the constant shaking. “I... don’t... know... sorry.”

Angel threw her forehooves into the air and wailed before curling into a ball and descending into great, racking sobs. “My... life... is... ruined!” she managed to bleat out between laboured breaths. “How can I... tell Auntie Autumn... I don’t have the money we need? How can I... tell my Dad... I wasted most of my savings... on a wild goose chahyhyse?!”

Daring wrapped a wing around Angel’s shoulder, speaking like a mother to a distraught foal. “Angel, I don’t think it’s all that ba-”

“Oh Celestia!” Angel jumped to her hind legs and threw her forelegs to the sky. “Just send me to the moon now! I can never show my face back home agahehein!”

Daring gave an exasperated growl and stamped her hoof. “Enough already!” Angel fell back down on all fours and stared silently at the exasperated Pegasus, sniffling slightly and wiping her eyes. “Angel, look. I realise this is a huge disappointment -- I do -- but nopony could have seen this coming. These things happen.” Her tone shifted from one of frustration to one of gentle consolation. “I think the best thing you could do is go home and be with your family. Considering the circumstances, they’re probably really worried about you.” She finished by giving the Bat Pony a gentle smile and offering her back her sun hat.

Angel sighed, rubbed her eyes, and took her hat, dropping it listlessly onto her head. “Ah, you’re right. I guess it isn’t fair to blame Hooves. I doubt it’s his fault he’s dead. I did go on this stupid trip of my own free will, after all, and even if I have blown all my money, I won’t be any worse off than I was before I met him.” She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small bit pouch and examined the contents. “Hey, just enough to get home. Thank Celestia for small blessings, I guess.”

Daring’s ears splayed, and she felt her chest tighten. After yesterday, her nerves were raw enough with self-pity. She really couldn’t stand adding a whole other kind of pity into the mix on top of that. “Hey, listen. Last night, I had considered going to Transylmaneia myself with Artemis. He talked me out of it, but I’d still like to go and see it. Exploring old cities and stuff is kind of what I do, and I’ve been looking for an excuse to get out of Dodge for a while. I could use a guide, if you’re interested in a new employer.”

“Really?!” Angel’s ears stood erect, and her eyes lit up, the ghost of a smile playing across her lips. She leaned forward on the tips of her hooves like a foal who had just been promised their favourite toy for Hearth’s Warming and couldn’t quite believe what they were hearing.

Daring chuckled and returned the smile with a grin of her own. “Sure. And hey, if you start now, I’ll even pay for your train fare home.”

Angel leaped forward and wrapped the Pegasus mare in a bone-crushing hug. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I am so glad I ran into you!”

Daring winced at the sudden compression but managed to return the hug, albeit awkwardly, with one leg. After several seconds, she managed to break Angel’s hold and turned on her hoof, nodding towards her apartment. “Come on.” She coughed. “Just let me grab a few things, and then we can go.”

~~~

The two mares weaved their way through the early afternoon traffic on their way to the train station. Daring had opted to wear her old travelling cloak, concealing her customary hat and shirt in her saddlebags. There were a lot of stops between Dodge Junction and Transylmaneia, and she wanted to avoid attracting attention from the throngs of ponies who would have read about her and her latest find in the morning paper.

Angel, for her part, looked every bit the tourist. Her head spun this way and that, trying to take in every little detail she passed on her first trip through town.

Peering between the sun-bleached, wooden buildings, she gaped at the seemingly endless ocean of the desert flatlands with their warm earth tones, disappearing into a horizon of shimmering heat waves.

Daring was reminded of the first time her parents allowed her to tag along on an expedition. The wonder of a strange, new world could captivate anypony. She could hardly fault the mare at her... side? Noticing the empty space where Angel should have been, Daring paused to scan the faces in the crowd, eventually spotting Angel a few hooves back. Shaking her head with a soft chuckle, she went back for her wide-eyed companion.

“It’s all so... brown and cracky, like somepony baked the entire town,” Angel said as Daring approached.

The Pegasus cocked an eyebrow. “Well, yeah. It’s the desert.”

“It’s just, I’ve never seen so much brown. And the houses are in, like, rows! Perfect rows! They’re entirely wood too, like everything was made to fit. Not a junk wall or scrap roof in sight. And the hats! I don’t even know what you call half these hats but everypony’s got one. They’re so cool!” Her cloak whipped back and forth as she spun, trying to point out everything.

Daring smirked at her companion. She could almost see the Bat Pony’s eyes sparkle in wonder. She knew how Angel must have felt. She felt it every time she unearthed a new artifact. “Hehe, you know, your head’s gonna snap off if you keep doing that.”

Angel didn’t seem to have noticed the comment, her attention having been caught by a passing cart, piled high with shiny, red and yellow cherries. She drooled and barely avoided walking into a lampost, saved only by her unerring, bat-like spacial awareness. “Is it true that, around here, you can just pick fruit right off the trees?”

“Well, yeah.” Daring chuckled. “But unless you work on the farm, you still have to pay for them so, don’t go getting any ideas.”

Angel’s ears drooped a little, but only for a second. “Aww nuts. Still--” her grin broadened and she failed to suppress an excited skip in her step “--It’s all fresh and juicy. You are so lucky to live here!”

Daring couldn’t help but give in to the Bat Pony’s infectious enthusiasm and sped up to match her bouncing pace, a wide grin on her face. Some ponies could see the bright side to anything.

The crowd thinned as they approached the train station, and Daring was pleased to see the line at the ticket booth wasn’t too long. They took their places, and Daring was about to start up a new conversation when she noticed Angel had closed her eyes and was taking in slow, deep breaths through her nose. “Uh, Angel, are you okay?”

Angel’s eyes snapped open, and her cheery countenance reasserted itself as though her moment of silence never happened. “Good thing the line is short; the train will be here in about five minutes.”

Daring scanned the empty horizon. With no train in sight and no discernible sound save for the background chatter of the ponies on the platform, she quirked an incredulous eyebrow at her companion. “How can you tell? Oh, wait.” She bopped her forehead lightly with a hoof. “Gus’s trick, right? Forgot about that. That actually works?”

“Every time,” Angel said with a reassured grin and a nod. Daring made a point to check the station clock-- five to one-- but said no more on the subject. She had to remember to learn that trick, if only to mess with Artemis.

In no time, the pair reached the front of the line, and Daring ordered their tickets. As she was counting out the necessary bits, a thought struck her. “Oh, sir, could you do me a favour?” The stallion in the booth looked up from his ledger. “Could you take a message for Artemis Trotson? He works the Western Line and should be coming through here in a day or two.”

“Certainly Miss...”

“Daring, Daring Do.”

“Daring? Where have I heard that name before?” The stallion scratched his chin, and Daring tried to hide the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She really hoped this wasn’t going where she thought it was going. “Oh, I remember! Well, isn’t this a coincidence?” He reached under his desk and produced a small, folded sheet of paper. “Here you are, wanting to leave a message for Artemis, when a message for you from Artemis arrived just minutes ago! I didn’t even have time to call for a messenger to take it to you.”

Daring took the offered telegram and read:

DEAR DARING STOP

MADE IT SAFELY TO TRANSYLMANEIA AND IDENTIFIED HOOVES BODY STOP

UNFORTUNATELY RED TAPE MAY KEEP ME HERE UP TO A WEEK STOP

STAY STRONG AND PLEASE TAKE CARE OF FENRIR WHILE I AM GONE STOP

LOVE ARTEMIS STOP

Daring groaned and turned back to the stallion in the booth. “Could you please exchange our tickets? It seems we’re going to Canterlot.”

The train pulled up to the station just as the clock struck one. Angel beamed.

Chapter Six- Vigilance

Chapter Six: Vigilance

By Feather Scratch

Proof Read by Comet Burst, q97randomguy, and mr jerrio

“Ow, ow, ow.” Angel whined as Daring slowly stroked her hoof along the tender Bat Pony.

The monochromatic Pegasus sighed and continued her gentle ministrations. “Oh, quit your whining and relax. There’s barely any blood. Trust me, when it happened to me for the first time, I needed stitches.”

Tears welled in Angel’s eyes as the young Bat pony rubbed herself in an effort to relieve the throbbing. “I didn’t think it would hurt so much.”

“Well, what did you expect talons to the face would feel like?” Daring packed away her first aid kit and sat back in her seat in the train car. “Fenrir’s a hawk, not a budgie, and he doesn’t take well to strangers. You should have known better than to try and pet him.”

Angel crossed her forehooves and pouted, her cheeks taking on a distinctly rosy tinge. “How was I supposed to know your pet bird was a vicious, little monster?” Daring chuckled and looked out the window as the urban highrises and marble arches of Canterlot gave way to the fields and lush greenery of the Equestrian countryside.

Their brief stop in Canterlot had gone well enough. Her heavy travelling cloak and the wide-brimmed sun hat Angel had kindly lent her had spared Daring from much of the unwanted attention her Dodge Junction discovery and subsequent “outing” had garnered. Only one camerapony recognised her, but much to Daring’s relief, he was an Earth Pony, easily lost amongst the many spires and gilded rooftops of the city.

Angel had been absolutely entranced by what she described as “a land right out of an old pony tale,” darting around from street vendors to poplar landmarks and squeeing with delight at the sight of the Royal Palace. She spent a good five minutes trying to get one of the stoic royal guards to lose their composure, eventually having to be dragged away by the tail by a mortified Daring. With a huff and a vow that she would, one day, get a Royal Guard to laugh, Angel fell in line with her Pegasus companion, and they made their way towards the museum.

While Daring pleaded and grovelled with Minerva to look after Fenrir for her until Artemis returned, Angel flitted around, checking out the exhibits. After much crossing of velvet ropes and touching of priceless antiques, Minerva agreed to look after Fenrir providing Daring took the grabby Bat Pony as far away from the museum as equinely possible.

A quick stop at Artemis’ home to make sure Minerva would have everything she needed and Angel getting a first-hoof lesson in the ‘no touchy’ rule from Fenrir himself the mares were off on the next train to Transylmaneia.

“So,” Daring said, breaking the silence that had descended upon the car. “What’s Transylmaneia like?”

Angel looked up from her attempts at making the world’s tiniest braid from her own coat hairs, using nothing but her tongue and teeth, and cocked her head to one side. “You really want the tour spiel now? Don’t you want to wait until we’re actually at the town? I’d feel kinda stupid having to repeat myself.”

“Save the touristy stuff for when we get there.” Daring smiled and waved a hoof placatingly. “I want to know what you think of the town. Facts and dates are all well and good, but I’ve often found that the only way to really get a sense of a place is straight from the horse’s mouth.” She leaned back in her seat and grinned. “Call me crazy, but I’d take a good journal or a few scrolls of correspondence over a tomb full of treasure any day.”

“You’re crazy.” Angel said flatly. When her companion only grinned wider, she rolled her eyes. “Okay. Well, Transylmaneia isn’t really one place; it’s two. You’ve got Transylmaneia proper, which is the surface town you’ll be seeing, then there’s the Colony, also known as Downtown Transylmaneia. Downtown is where almost all the Bat Ponies live. It’s where I grew up and where I technically still live.”

“‘Technically?’” Daring cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, I pretty much live with Auntie Autumn now, but I never officially moved out of my Dad’s place.” Angel rubbed the back of her neck and grinned sheepishly. “In all honesty, I’m really just using my old room to store all my junk.”

“Most of my junk ends up in the museum,” Daring muttered under her breath with little snicker.

Choosing not to pursue a tangent on the exact nature of “junk,” Angel coughed and pressed on. “Anyway, if you really want my personal opinion of the place, it’s boring. I mean, yeah, the town has the whole ‘rustic charm’ thing going for it, and the lake Downtown is really beautiful if you happen to have the night-vision to see it, but honestly, that’s it. Dull, grey scenery as far as the eye can see. The woods are off limits because of the Arctic Timber Wolves and Snow Leopards. The only thing to really do is Gale Surfing. But, we can only do that when the weather’s clear, which is almost never. I guess, in a nutshell, Transylmaneia’s the perfect example of ‘It’s a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there.’”

An expression somewhere between a frown of disbelief and smirk of amusement crossed Daring’s face. “Wow. After that glowing commendation, I can’t wait to hear the touristy stuff.”

Stroking one foreleg with the other and looking, for all the world, like a foal caught with her hoof in the cookie jar, Angel gave a crooked smile and chuckled. “Heh heh, yeah. Telling the client the product sucks, some business pony I am.”

“Hey, I was the one who asked for your personal opinion, and I appreciate that you actually gave it.” Daring reached over and patted the Bat Pony on the shoulder. “So, what’s Gale Surfing?”

~~~

PFFFT

Artemis started at the sudden, stinging in his flank. Reaching back, he yanked out the culprit, a small feathered dart, and spat it into his hoof for a closer inspection. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Hooves. Nice to see you’re taking your role as ‘official pain in my rump’ so seriously.”

“Humour has nothing to do with it, dear boy.” Hooves stepped out of the shadowy corner he had been hiding in and pulled down the hood of the elaborately detailed costume he was sporting that had allowed him to perfectly blend into that corner of the room and nowhere else in the world. “You’re getting sloppy. You walked straight into a room without scanning for potential assailants, and as a result, you were gotten the better of. Had I been a genuine attacker, you would have been done for.”

“You know”—Artemis rubbed the bridge of his nose—“I would question the need to keep my guard up in your house, but in hindsight, you’re absolutely right.”

The pair picked their way through the assorted chaos inhabiting the classical Trotingham townhouse that served as both Hooves’ home and place of business. Flank-high stacks of files and papers covered almost every available surface, with the few paper-free spots playing host to miscellaneous “samples” in various states of preservation. The walls were covered, floor to ceiling, in an incomprehensible collage of mouth-scrawled notes, photographs, and newspaper clippings, each connected by seemingly random lengths of multicoloured string. The entire room gave the impression of belonging to a pony constantly walking the line between genius and insanity.

As they settled into a pair of dusty, faux-leather chairs, Artemis glanced over at a neatly stacked pile of letters next to what looked like an in-progress game of chess. He cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Are you still in contact with that mysterious pen-pal you’ve never bothered to introduce me to?”

Hooves harrumphed, picked up a notebook and pencil, and began to scribble, a clear ploy to avoid eye contact. “Well, with your attention drifting away from matters of import, I find myself suddenly in dire need of stimulating discourse.” He paused, swirling the pencil from one side of his mouth to the other, frowning appraisingly at his work on the notepad. “You may be about as bright as a lump of coal, but at least you attempted to ask halfway intelligent questions every now and then.”

Artemis rubbed his temples and growled softly, seeing the same argument they’d been having over and over again for months about to begin anew. “How many times do I need to tell you? My finding friends and having a life outside of work does not mean I take what we do any less seriously.”

“No, it just means you’re ever more distracted by thoughts of frivolity, making you far less effective at the work you claim to still take seriously,” Hooves snapped and spat out his pencil, scowling and pointing an accusatory hoof in Artemis’ face. “The last case we worked on was a simple crime of passion. One pony murders another and flees the scene, leaving a positive cornucopia of clues and signs, and you missed every single one of them. For Celestia’s sake, dear boy, you spent an entire afternoon with the culprit and saw nothing! You should have known his life story within the first five minutes!”

Artemis felt his cheeks flush and his temper rise as he remembered the incident. Hooves had been right; Artemis had been off his game that day. North Star and Compass Rose had had their foal just a few days prior and were talking about naming Artemis her godfather. For a pony like Artemis, who had never had a real family of his own, to be accepted so readily into the family of ponies he had only known for a few months was, to say the least, overwhelming, and more than a little distracting. “Fine, I’ll admit, I was less than vigilant that day. Everypony makes mistakes, but one slip up in a lifetime of sterling work does not mean I’m any less effective.”

“One slip up is all it takes in this business!” Hooves rose and pushed his face into Artemis’, any pretext of composure thrown aside. “You miss a single clue, and the culprit escapes; you make a single misjudgement of character, and you end up dead in a gutter.” He jabbed his hoof into Artemis’ chest “I will not always be there to pull your worthless rump out of the fire!”

“‘Worthless?’” Artemis jumped to his hooves and pushed back against his abrasive colleague. “What gives you the right to call me worthless, you condescending ass? I have skills outside of combing over dead bodies. I have friends. I’m going to be a godfather. What do you have?” Artemis jabbed his own hoof in Hooves’ chest. “More enemies than Celestia’s had birthdays? The distain of the police you seem to take pride in making fools of? You’re nothing but a bitter, deluded sociopath. For the life of me, I don’t even know why I’m still working with you!”

Hooves stepped back, his glare dissolving into a soft frown and his gaze becoming distant. Wordlessly, he turned away from Artemis and paced over to the chess game. After a full minute of staring silently at the pieces, he pushed a white knight into a new position. “Check.”

As the adrenaline began to wear off, Artemis let his own words sink in and felt a pang of guilt. “Hooves I- ”

“You should go, dear boy. I believe it’s past time you got on with your own life. Leave me to mine.”

For a moment, Artemis wanted to argue. He raised a hoof to place on his old friend’s shoulder before pausing and turning to leave. Hooves didn’t look up.

~~~

“Artemis?” Artemis shifted. Was Hooves calling him back? Did he want to apologise? “Artemis.” No, not Hooves, a mare. She sounded pretty. “Artemis!”

Artemis jerked awake and instantly regretted it as a knot of pain flared to life in his neck. Moaning loudly, he stretched and looked around to see what had woken him. He was still in the lounge of the Wagon Wheel Inn where, it seemed, he had fallen asleep. The faint rays of light peeking in through the windows told him it was, at least, morning the next day.

He worked out the knot in his neck with a satisfying pop and focused on the mare who had woken him. Bright Eyes was looking, much to Artemis’ chagrin, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as she yanked away the blanket somepony—most likely Rough Diamond—had covered him with sometime the previous night. She gave a far-too-satisfied grin at his groan of protest. “Sweet Celestia, have you been here all night? Come on, lazy bones. Up! Up! Up! Rise and shine! It’s a bright and gloomy day, and you should have been up hours ago!” Apparently the Pegasus that looked like a tropical fruit had misplaced her indoor voice sometime in the night. Either that or she enjoyed making poor, road-weary night owls suffer.

“Urgh, what time is it?”

“Nearly eight. Honestly, if you’d been lying there any longer, you would have fused to the upholstery.”

“Eight in the morning?” Artemis whined and flopped back into his chair, rubbing his eyes and giving himself a surreptitious sniff. He really needed a shower. “What is wrong with you? I’m never up this early at the best of times, let alone when I’ve had a long journey the night before.”
“Oh, quit your whining.” The Pegasus rolled her eyes. “I flew most of the way here myself. And I ran the last few miles through the no-fly zone. And I feel fine.” She flared her wings and cocked one foreleg for emphasis. “In fact, I was just about to head out for a run, maybe find out if there are any sights worth seeing in this little backwater. You should come with me, work out some of that grouchiness.”

“I’m not grouchy. I’m sleepy.” Artemis clambered to his hooves and stretched, long and slow, his body language saying, in no uncertain terms, ‘I’m a lot creakier and wobblier than I was twenty years ago, and I’m okay with that.’ “And thanks, but I think I’m a little way past the whole ‘running for fun’ phase of my life. I just want to take a shower and see if Hooves left any notes or papers behind. He was here for a reason, and I’d like to know what.”

Bright Eyes sighed and shrugged, turning towards the front door. “Suit yourself, grandpa. Diamond’s out in reception. She’ll show you where everything is.”

As she walked out, Artemis’ eyes drifted towards her cutie mark, a bright tongue of flames on her... flank. He needed a shower. He needed a cold shower.

~~~

They should have built a statue in honour of whatever pony invented the hot and cold running shower, Artemis thought as he trotted out of the bathroom, feeling like a million bits. He had been worried that, in such a remote setting, he may have been dealing with a tedious kettle-and-tub situation, but was delighted to hear how the town made use of the abundant underground hot springs that dotted the area. He’d have to bring up the idea of using the hot springs to improve tourism to his host when he got the chance. He knew several highbrow ponies in Canterlot who’d pay through the nose for such an exotic luxury.

He had talked to Rough Diamond beforehoof about looking over any belongings Hooves may have left behind, and she had given him the key to Hooves’ old room. Apparently she hadn’t gone inside since hearing about Hooves’ death, thinking it would be disrespectful so soon after the fact. As he opened the door, he thanked Celestia for small favours. If nopony had been inside the room since Hooves died, then any clues to what he’d been doing would still be intact.

Artemis’ first thought when he laid eyes on the room was that Rough Diamond was lying. Inside were an unmade bed, an open and empty dresser, and a fireplace still full of ashes. That was it. There were no clothes strewn about, no bottles of unnameable chemicals, and not so much as a post-it note on the walls. The room looked like it had been cleared of its contents in a hurry.

“Wait.” He walked over to the far wall and examined it closely. There were patches where the wall wasn’t as dusty as the rest, as though it had been covered until recently. A quick look at the other walls revealed the same, irregular pattern. Hooves had been here, but all his work was gone.

Artemis set to work turning over every inch of the room for any clue he could find. This couldn’t be a coincidence. First he found the telltale signs of a knife wound in Hooves chest that was allegedly caused by a shard of glass, now he finds Hooves’ work missing from a room nopony was supposed to have entered. Somepony was lying.

After half an hour of searching, Artemis growled and straightened up. He hadn’t found as much as a follicle out of place. Whoever had been here, they had been thorough.

“Damn!” He was about to leave the room when something about the fireplace caught his eye. It was full of ash. That wasn’t necessarily odd. A fireplace was where one tended to find ash. But that was a lot of ash, far too much for a single night’s worth of wood.

He knelt down and began to gently brush a hoof through the ash. Barely a few seconds after he began, he found confirmation of his suspicions; charred, illegible fragments of paper were mixed in with the wood ash. He began to sift through the remnants more fervently. There had to be something, anything. Something must have survived. He flipped the grate and pawed through the detritus that had fallen through to the stone below. Nothing, nothing, there! Lying amongst all the black and grey refuse was a single, charred sliver of white, a fragment of what had once been a post-it note. Artemis pulled the scrap out and read the messy scrawl “200805251205202008050918072101180404152314. What?” Had Hooves just given up on words at some point and started writing purely in mathematical formulas?

From downstairs, Artemis heard the front door opening. Bright Eyes must have been back from her run. He stood up and made his way downstairs, the paper fragment tucked safely away in his hat with the shard of glass he had recovered from the guard house.

Rough Diamond and Bright Eyes were in the middle of a conversation when he arrived in the lobby. He hoofed over the room key to the innkeeper with a muttered thanks and turned to leave.

“Where are you off to?” Bright Eyes, not even looking winded, turned from her conversation to follow him.

“To the train platform.” Artemis didn’t even look at her as he answered. He needed to act fast before any more potential evidence could be tampered with. “I need to look into a few things.”

“I hope seein’ Fetlock’s room was helpful.” Rough Diamond called after him. “Poor fella deserved better than the mess he made of himself.”

Artemis froze mid step. “Wait, what?”

Author's Note

So uh... Yeah, what's five months between updates?
hehehheh
To say real life gets in the way would be an understatement.
I'm in my last year of Uni and I've been trying to get my Tumblr off the ground so... yeah.
We're actually a little over halfway through Coltinado by now so, I'll try to get more chapters out quicker so I can get it out of the way and move on (with all due care taken to ensure continued quality of course).
Hope you enjoyed this one!

Chapter Seven- The Late Fetlock Hooves, Part One

Chapter Seven: The Late Fetlock Hooves, Part One

By Feather Scratch

Proof Read by Comet Burst, q97randomguy, and mr jerrio

“Wait! At least let me get a shower first.”

“You smell fine. I need to talk to you,” Artemis hissed as he half-dragged Bright Eyes away from the Wagon Wheel, taking care not to glance back over his shoulder. Upon thanking Rough Diamond for her sympathy, he had shooed the Pegasus out the door on the pretence of seeing the sights to take their minds off things.

“What’s your deal?” Bright Eyes pulled her hoof out of Artemis’ grip and took to the air, hovering low around his head. “First you don’t what to come out on a run with me, and now you want me to come with you for a walk? You know, we could have just agreed on a pace before I left and saved a lot of time.”

“We’re not going for a walk. We’re going to the train platform.”

“Wait, what?” Bright Eyes stopped dead and landed with an emphatic thunk. “Artemis, I can’t leave yet, not without Hooves. I thought we were here for the same reason.”

Artemis paused and groaned, rubbing the bridge of his muzzle. “We are. We’re not leaving. I just want to take a look at something. Now come on. I’ll explain as we walk.” The Pegasus frowned, very slowly and deliberately taking to wing as Artemis set off again.

“Tell me, Bright, you saw Hooves body, yes?” Artemis cocked his head up to talk to his hovering companion.

“Yeah.”

“As a former soldier, what would you have said was the cause of death, just to look at him?”

Bright Eyes cocked a brow. “As a former soldier, I never saw a day of real combat. Peaceful times, remember. Things only started getting really interesting after Princess Luna returned, and I’d long since moved on.” She shrugged and gave a weak grin. “I can tell you he had a twisted ankle if that helps.”

Artemis rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Aren’t they supposed to teach the guard at least basic first aid and crime scene investigation?”

“Hey, lay off!” The Pegasus bopped his hat down over his eyes. “I aced ‘First Aid 101.’ You show me any field or sports injury, and I can patch it up in a flash. They just never taught us grunts all that super-sleuth, sciency stuff.”

Artemis removed his hat and slicked his mane back, replacing any strands that may have been knocked loose. “Well, take a guess.”

“I don’t know!” Bright Eyes threw up her forelegs, frustration edging into her voice. “I was too busy trying not to puke at the sight of a dead body to comb over every little scrape and bruise. He looked like he’d gone through a few rounds of patty-cake with a Timber Wolf.”

“Well, I did go over every scrape and bruise.” Artemis replaced his hat and trudged on. “Did you know they pulled an eight-inch shard of glass out of his chest?”

Bright Eyes’ face turned distinctly green and she clutched her stomach. Her wings lost their rhythm for a moment, and she wobbled in the air, catching herself at the last second before hitting the ground. “Urgh, I did not need to know that. Sounds pretty... fatal.”

“It does.” Artemis nodded in agreement. “But, what if I told you that when I looked at the wound, I could have sworn it was done with a knife?”

“Well, they’re basically the same thing, right? I mean, they both cut and, urgh—”she held a hoof over her mouth “—stab.”

“Yes, but the wounds they leave are quite different. Glass wounds are ragged, messy. The cut I saw on Hooves had far too clean an edge. I know it was done with a knife.”

“So what, you think somepony chased him out into the storm, waited for him to get messed up to within an inch of his life, then stabbed him with a knife, and stuck glass in him to make it look like an accident?” She fluttered over his head and gave him an upside-down, deadpan look. “You realize how stupid that sounds, right? The storm seemed to do a good enough job messing him up all by itself. Why would somepony bother to stab him when they could have just waited for the inevitable? Or if they already had a big hunk of glass, why didn’t they just stab him with that and forget the knife?”

Artemis gave a crooked smile and savoured the rising charge he hadn’t felt in decades. “I’m guessing, since you didn’t ask about the cause of death, you didn’t bother to ask about the circumstances either."

“Why bother? He was caught in a freak storm and had an accident. It’s tragic, but these things happen. Why do you need this to be more complicated than it is?”

“Why are you so ready to take things at face value?” Artemis shot back.

“Because I live in the real world.” Bright Eyes flitted in front of him, blocking his path, and held him by the shoulders. “This isn’t some mystery novel. Not everypony has an agenda, and not every little occurrence is tied into some convoluted web of conspiracy.”

Artemis stood still and waited for the Pegasus to let go before continuing in a perfectly level tone. “Dusk Thunder.”

“What?”

“That’s the name of the other pony that died that night. Officially, he was killed in the same freak accident that supposedly killed Hooves.”

Bright Eyes faltered a little. “How do you know that? There wasn’t another body in the morgue when I was there.”

“That’s because Dusk Thunder was a Bat Pony. They have a morgue of their very own Downtown.”

“So... what of it?” Recovering from her momentary surprise, she set her jaw and gestured with a hoof towards an imaginary piece of evidence. “So he wasn’t alone when he died. That doesn’t make it any less an accident. Bat Ponies are tough, but they can fall victim to bad weather, same as anypony else.”

Artemis sat on his haunches and lifted a hoof for reference. “Firstly, I asked around, and apparently, this Bat Pony was following Hooves specifically. Now, he was a member of the Night Watch. If he was just enforcing an area cordon due to the storm, he would have just issued a verbal warning and carried on when Hooves walked away.” He lifted his other forehoof. “Secondly, I saw Dusk Thunder’s body too. If he was a victim of the same accident as Hooves, he should have had similar injuries, but other than the single blow to the head that killed him, he was completely unharmed.”

Uncertainty flashed across Bright Eyes’ features. “Well, it’s a small town. They’re probably more used to taking care of each other on a more personal level. I’m sure Dusk was just doing what any of the guards would have done.

“As for the injuries”—she scratched her chin—“maybe Hooves just bore the brunt of them. If Dusk was a guard, he would have been wearing armour, right?”

Artemis pursed his lips and, after a moment, nodded. “Yes, both perfectly plausible explanations. I’d probably have come to the same conclusion if I hadn’t seen the head wound.”

They had approached the edge of the town, and the train platform was in sight. Gus could be seen through the window of the makeshift office, arranging some loose planks of wood along the wall.

“What was so special about the head wound?” Bright Eyes kept Artemis in her peripheral vision. Her eyes narrowed, but her tone lost some of its sceptical edge.

Closing his eyes, Artemis spoke slowly as though reading from a script. “They said it was an accident, but it couldn’t have been. The point of the ticket belt that killed him landed precisely on the sagittal border between the parietal bones, a weak point that would have caused the skull to split open like a dropped melon. A blow like that could only have been inflicted deliberately by somepony who knew what they were doing.”

Bright Eyes dropped to her hooves, looking distinctly green again. “So... are you saying Hooves... murdered a pony?”

Just as they reached the platform, Artemis stopped and frowned, pawing at the dirt and looking away from his companion. He took a deep breath. “I think that Dusk Thunder chased Hooves onto the platform. They fought, and Dusk stabbed Hooves. But, before he died, Hooves got in one good blow that finished Dusk.

“There are still pieces missing though, which is why we’re here.” Artemis shook his head and they climbed onto the platform. “What was Hooves doing here in the first place? What was his quarrel with Dusk Thunder? Who stuck the glass in Hooves chest? And, most importantly, why do I get the feeling ponies around here know more than they’re letting on?”

As they approached the ticket office, Gus trotted out and gave them an amiable smile and a nod. “Mornin’, folks. Heading back already?”

Artemis switched gears immediately, flashing a bright smile and returning the nod to Gus, touching the brim of his cap. “Morning, Gus. The place is looking well. You’d never even tell there was a spot of bad weather.”

Gus chuckled and hung his forehooves in the lapels of his waistcoat. “Well, it’s a wonder what a coat of paint and a little elbow grease can do. Can’t afford to leave things broke or I’d find myself the same way before long.”

Artemis let out a full belly laugh, patting the station attendant companionably on the shoulder. Bright Eyes just smiled awkwardly, not really getting the joke.

“Oh my.” Artemis wiped away an imaginary tear. “Speaking of things being broke, what happened to all the debris from the office?”

Gus waved a hoof dismissively. “Oh, that’s long gone. We don’t waste resources out here. The whole platform was picked over as soon as the guards took those poor fellas away. It’s probably spread out across a dozen houses by now.” Seeing Artemis’ ears droop, he added, “The train that was at the platform that night’s still here, though; the replacement window still hasn’t come in yet, so she’s docked off the main rail, right ahead of yours, actually.”

“Huh.” Artemis remembered seeing the train while he was parking the 221 B, but hadn’t paid it any mind at the time. “Mind if we go take a look?”

“I don’t see why not.” Gus shrugged. “The guards are done with it. Why do you folks want to see it anyhow?”

Artemis gave the biggest, most sincere grin he could manage. “Oh, just curiosity. What happened was a real shock. We just want to make sure we’ve got all the facts straight, right?” He turned he smile to Bright Eyes and nodded sideways towards Gus.

“Oh, uh, yes!” She gave a big, goofy grin and nodded quickly. “We’re just curious.”

“Hmm. Well, alright.” Gus fished a key out of the ring on his belt and hoofed it over to Artemis. “You too be careful, now. There’s nothin’ valuable in there you can break, but the caboose is probably still full of glass.”

Artemis nodded. “Duly noted, thanks.”

~~~

“What exactly are we looking for?”

Artemis and Bright Eyes stood in the ruined caboose, glancing around at the plush, if sparsely upholstered, interior. A board had been fitted over the outside of the broken window and the thick carpet was marred with dark spots of dried blood.

Artemis’ eyes narrowed, slowly panning his gaze from one corner of the carriage to the next. “I’m not sure. Anything. Anything that stands out or looks out of place.”

He trotted over to the broken window and removed the shard of glass from his hat, comparing the shard to the glass still hanging to the frame. “Perfect match.”

“What?” Bright Eyes looked up from the blood stain she was scrutinising.

“I found where the shard of glass came from. Train windows are tough, they couldn’t just break accidentally. This places Hooves in this train car at some point.

“If he came out through the window, then he wasn’t alone.” Artemis replaced the glass shard in his cap and turned to scan the floor. “Look around for hoofprints.”

“What, you think you’d be able to tell them apart just by looking at them?” The Pegasus cocked an incredulous eyebrow.

“Ordinarily, no.” After a moment searching, Artemis grinned and zeroed in on the carpet. “But I can tell the difference between a mare and stallion’s hoofprint.”

Bright Eyes squinted at the print in the carpet and held out her own hoof for comparison. “Huh, good eye. So, what, Dusk Thunder was a mare?”

“Ha, hardly. Dusk was a stallion easily twice my size. No, this means there was a mare here that night.” Using the edge of his hoof, Artemis carefully combed through the fibres of the carpet near the hoofprint.

Bright Eyes’ ears wilted. “Maybe Hooves and Dusk were after the same mare. Love can make ponies do stupid things, right?”

Artemis nodded. “It’s as good a theory as any. I’d never known Hooves to be one for relationships, but even he must have gotten lonely sometimes.” He grimaced as he plucked a long, yellow hair out of the carpet. “And I think I know who the mare was. Come on”—he sequestered the hair under his cap and turned to leave—“we need to get back to the Wagon Wheel.”

~~~

As Artemis and Bright Eyes were thanking Gus for the key, the older stallion perked and ducked into his makeshift office, straightening his waistcoat and standing to attention.

“What’s up?” Bright Eyes cocked a brow and glanced behind herself at the empty platform.

“Train’s coming. Gotta be ready.”

The Pegasus flew a few feet into the air and scanned the horizon. “I don’t see anything.”

Gus Smirked. “Trust me.”

Twenty minutes later, a sleek, sky blue Northern Line Express train pulled up to the platform, and several uniformed ponies set about unloading cargo. As he signed the various chits and wavers, Gus chuckled at the stunned expressions of the two out-of-towners. “Hehe, gets ‘em every time.”

Artemis was the first to snap out of the spell, perking his ears and looking around as chatting voices drifted over through the crowd.

“And that is why fish are pure evil.”

“Wow. I’ll never look at a glacial trout the same way again.”

He trotted forward, gently shouldering his way through the throng of train workers until two cloaked mares, one very familiar, despite the large sun hat she wore, came into view. He smirked. “You know, I’d say it didn’t bother me to see you using another train but, I’d be lying.”

Daring looked up and grinned, jumping forward to give Artemis a hug that nearly knocked him off his hooves. “Artemis! How’d you know to come and meet me?”

“Oh, didn’t you know? Earth Ponies can see the future. Either that or it was a huge coincidence.” He briefly returned the hug before stepping back and frowning. “What are you doing here? I told you I could handle this myself. You’re supposed to be taking care of Fenrir and thinking about your next move.”

Daring waved a hoof dismissively. “Relax. I asked Minerva to look after him. She practically jumped at the chance to help you.”

Artemis’ cheeks took on a distinctly pink tinge, and Daring snorted, clamping her hoof over her mouth to suppress a fit of giggles.

“Did I hear you say ‘Artemis’? As in ‘Artemis Trotson’?” Angel trotted up behind Daring just as Bright Eyes caught up with Artemis. The former glowered and shoved her face into Artemis’, causing him to recoil and nearly trip over the latter. “Have you any idea the week I’ve had thanks to you?! Why were you never where anypony said you’d be?”

“Umm, excuse me?” Artemis squeaked. “Do I know you?”

Daring pulled Angel back so Artemis could stand back up. “Artemis, this is Angel Beats. She’s a local tour guide. Hooves basically hired her to be his personal assistant while he was here.”

“And last week, he sent me on a wild goose chase across half of Equestria looking for you.” Angel jabbed a hoof into Artemis chest. “Did you know Fillydelphia had seven train stations? I didn’t! Everywhere I went, they said I just missed you. It got to the point where I was sure it was all some kind of cruel joke!”

“Wait. Hooves wanted me to come and see him a week ago? Did he say what for?”

Angel snorted. “No. He was acting all edgy and distracted. Just said if I found you and brought you back here, he’d give me a ton of bits.”

“But they never had a written contract, and now that Hooves is dead, Angel’s out of pocket.” Daring gave the Bat Pony a little smile. “I offered to hire her to show me around Transylmaneia, make back some of her loses.”

Artemis cocked his head and smirked. “So, you weren’t following me, then?”

Daring wrapped him in another hug, then pulled away with a soft smile. “I’ll always be here if you need me, Artemis, but no. This is me taking that big step forward and helping a pony who needs it in the process.”

“Well, good for you. It’s nice to know at least one of us has a handle on the situation.”

Daring frowned. “Why? Are they not letting you take Hooves home?”

“No.” Bright Eyes jumped in to the conversation with a harrumph. “We have to wait to hear back from two other ponies before they let us take him.”

“Oh, sorry.” Artemis shook his head and waved a hoof from Bright Eyes to Daring. “Bright Eyes, this is—”

“A.K. Yearling!” Daring’s hoof shot forward so fast she nearly clipped Artemis in the nose. A rictus grin plastered her face as she tried to surreptitiously lower the brim of her hat.

Artemis narrowed his eyes, looking from the suddenly stiff Daring to Bright Eyes, who accepted the hoof bump with no hesitation. “Yeeeah. A.K. is my goddaughter. You know, the one I mentioned yesterday?”

“Oh, yeah.” Bright Eyes’ expression softened. “I heard you’ve been having a hard time recently. Are you okay?”

Daring glared at Artemis, who raised his hooves defensively. “Hey, I didn’t mention any specifics. There was context involved.”

Daring grumbled but sighed then turned back to Bright Eyes. “I’m fine, thanks. Just personal issues with a buck. I’d rather not talk about it if it’s all the same.”

Bright Eyes chuckled a bit and patted Daring on the shoulder. “Heh, say no more. Stallions. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.”

“Heh... yeah.”

“Anyway—” Artemis coughed “—Bright Eyes was called here to pick up Hooves too. So were two other ponies, but they haven’t showed up yet.”

Daring shrugged. “That’s your problem? Don’t worry about it. Think of it as time off to grieve.”

Artemis expression darkened, and he shared a look with Bright Eyes. “That’s not what I was talking about. I—”

“Artemis thinks Hooves death wasn’t an accident.” Bright Eyes rubbed one fetlock with the other, her tone tinged with scepticism.

“What?!” Daring and Angel recoiled in unison.

Angel squared her shoulders and lowered her head. Baring her teeth, she spoke with barely contained outrage. “What, exactly, are you implying?”

Artemis splayed his ears, having the courtesy to look abashed. “Nothing... yet. It’s still just a theory. I need to do some more investigating before I can say for certain.”

Daring sighed, her face a mask of pity. “Artemis... This is why I wanted to go with you in the first place. You just lost your oldest friend. Of course you want there to be some kind of reason behind his death, but... well, do you have any evidence to suspect foul play?”

“Some, but not enough.” Artemis stomped his hoof on the platform and snorted.

“You have a theory and a few loose ends.” Bright Eyes frowned and swished her tail. “I’m still not buying it.”

“There’s enough conjecture to re-examine the case. All I really need is one good, solid piece of evidence, and I can bring it to the Watch.” Artemis brushed the bill of his cap. “And I’m pretty sure I know where to find it.” He turned to Daring. “Bright and I need to head back to the local inn. Are you coming?”

“Actually,” Angel cut in, “I’ve been gone a while, and I’d kinda like to go see my aunt. I was hoping Dar, uh—” she caught her companion’s wide eyes and subtle head shake “—A.K. would come with me. She’s only here because the last pony I worked for didn’t sign a contract. I don’t wanna make the same mistake again.” She flashed Daring a bashful grin. “Not that I’m expecting you to drop dead or anything.”

Daring chuckled and turned to Artemis. “I’ll meet you at the inn later.” She placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Just, please be careful. I know how reckless grief can make a pony.”

Artemis smirked and raised his nose and hoof in a mock-solemn oath. “I promise I won’t do anything stupid, at least, not until you’re there to throw in and make me look like a wussy by comparison.”

The sandy mare snickered and gave Artemis a light punch in the arm. Just before she made to take off towards town with her soon-to-be-official guide, Artemis leaned in close and muttered, “A.K. Yearling?”

Daring briefly glanced at Bright Eyes before muttering back. “I know who that pony you’re with is. If she’s not using her real name, then she doesn’t want to draw attention. Neither do I.” She winked. “No harm in keeping a low profile.”

~~~

Daring felt a strange sense of déjà vu as she and Angel cantered along the uneven, cobbled streets of Transylmaneia. Angel had agreed to take the long way round to the Tourist Board so Daring could have a quick look around, and, as much as she wanted to keep a low profile, the sight of all the strange, centuries-old architecture had her bouncing around like a filly in a toy shop the day before Hearth’s Warming Eve. This must have been how Angel felt when she saw Canterlot.

“Oh, is that?” She ran up to a wall. “It is! Somepony actually turned a sixth century Anglebuck and Brawnsteed settler wagon into a bakery. Look, you can still see the pig iron braces! And there—” she flew to the other side of the street to examine a roof “—these shingles are royal ceramics from the Gryphonian revolution of 812!” She spun in the air, twitching this way and that as though her body was trying to head in several different directions at once. “This place is awesome! It’s like somepony took the contents of a museum and turned it into a town!”

“Well, that’s one way of putting it.” Angel called up from below. “Daring, you really shouldn’t be flying here. It’s not safe for Pegasi.”

Daring’s head continued to dart back and forth, but, eventually, she acquiesced and landed beside the Bat Pony. They carried on for a few minutes, Angel pointing out the occasional building or landmark, trying to make each sound as interesting as she possibly could, until they eventually reached the multi-faceted Transylmaneian Tourist Board.

Angel darted inside, leaving a bemused Daring to follow in her wake. “Aunty Autumn! Aunty Autumn, I’m home, and I brought a guest!”

The middle-aged, cardiganed mare stuck her head out from the back room, and her face split into a wide, warm grin. “Angel, dear!” Both Bat Ponies ran into one another’s embrace, both squeezing with equal fervour. “Sweetheart, I was so worried. You said you’d only be gone a few days.”

“Heh, yeah.” Angel blushed and scratched the back of her neck. “The job kinda... ran away from me. But I’m back now, and I brought somepony else who wants to hire me.” She sat back, and, with a proud grin, pointed at Daring. “Aunty Autumn, meet Da... I mean, A.K. Yearling. She’s big into history and came all the way from Dodge Junction just to see the place.” She wrapped a foreleg around the older mare and gave her a little nuzzle. “A.K. Yearling, meet Autumn Night, head of the Transylmaneian Tourist Board and the single brainiest pony this side of Canterlot. She’s forgotten more about this town that I’ll ever know.”

Autumn Night blushed at her niece’s praise and offered a hoof to Daring. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Ms Yearling. I hope we can make your stay worth the long trip.”

Daring accepted the bump and smiled, politely. “I look forward to it.”

Grinning from one pony to the other, Angel got up and headed for the back room. “Great! Well, I’m gonna go ditch my stuff and get that contract. You two talk amongst yourselves. I’ll be right back.”

Half an hour later, the contract was signed, cloaks and hats hung in the corner, and all three mares sat around the creaky table enjoying mugs of tea, fruit cake, and a spirited discussion about the history of the town.

Daring leaned forward on her elbows, her eyes glinting and her hooves waving emphatically. “Don’t get me wrong, the resourcefulness of the settlers in the area over the years has been nothing short of remarkable, but don’t you think it’s a shame that so many, potentially priceless, artifacts are being used as nothing more than construction material?”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Autumn Night sipped her tea, her face the picture of utter contentment. “But you must understand, in the days before the railroad, it was next to impossible to get supplies sent up from Equestria proper, and the Wintergreen Woods were simply far too hazardous to farm for lumber. Ponies had to make do with what they had or die from exposure.”

Daring took a big bite of cake and chewed loudly, pointing the cake at the elder Bat Pony. “Fair enough, but what about this ‘Downtown Transylmaneia’ Angel mentioned. Couldn’t the settlers have just moved in there?”

The slightest of frowns crossed Autumn Night’s features, and she sighed. She waved, vaguely, to the bottle wall and the town, just barely visible on the other side. “It would have been the right thing to, wouldn’t it? But after what happened, I’m afraid the Bat Pony Colony was never truly able to open up to and trust the other races again. Believe it or not, this town was was actually a big step forward. In the early days, any non-Bat Pony caught coming within ten miles of the watchtower which we now use as the town hall, would have been driven off at spear point.”

Daring frowned and cocked her head. “Wow, harsh. What happened exactly? Forgive me. It’s kind of embarrassing given my line of work, but I don’t know much about Bat Ponies or their history. Are you talking about some key event in your past?”

“Not just ours.” The elder Bat Pony set aside her tea and folded her hooves on the table. “Tell me, Ms Yearling, have you ever heard of a pony called Rafael Coltinado?”

Daring scratched her chin and leaned back in her chair, staring with unfocused eyes at a spot on the ceiling. “Yeah. He was kind of an obscure figure who apparently rose to power during the reign of Nightmare Moon. According to the few accounts I can recall, he was a powerful sorcerer, along the same lines as King Sombra, who used mind control to bend ponies to his will. He was believed to be one of the reasons Princess Luna went mad in the first place.

“When Nightmare Moon was banished, Coltinado and his followers were run out of Equestria by the good ponies to the... frozen... north. No?!” Daring’s eyes went wide, and she sat bolt upright in her chair. “The Bat Ponies? They were Coltinado’s followers?”

“Pffft, you make that sound like a bad thing.” Angel tossed the remains of her cake down on the table and pouted. “Typical. You pretty much told us the propaganda version of the story, verbatim. Why don’t non-Bat Ponies ever question it? It’s not fair!”

Daring’s ears wilted slightly. “Well, I’m sorry. I’m just going off what I read myself.”

Autumn Night smiled and passed her niece another slice of cake. “It’s alright dear. You’re right. That is the story most ponies know, unfortunately. The truth is it couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Daring perked her ears and leaned forward, giving Autumn Night her undivided attention.

“Over a thousand years ago, in the tail end of the pre-Celestian era, Rafael Coltinado was the chief advisor to Princess Luna in all matters arcane and magical. He was, as you said, a very powerful sorcerer, easily the most powerful of his generation. He was not, however, evil, far from it.

“Coltinado was a master of mental magic and worked hoof in hoof with Luna herself to develop several powerful spells, including the ‘want it, need it’ spell, several variations of reform spell, and even the dream walking spell the princess uses to this day.

“Using his mastery of the mental realm, he maintained law, order, and peace in the name of the night princess.

“When Luna began to fall to jealousy and madness, Coltinado refused to leave her side. He was convinced that he could make his sovereign and friend see reason by showing her the loyalty and compassion she craved from her subjects.

“The Bat Ponies, for their part, had sworn an oath of eternal loyalty to Luna and trusted Coltinado’s judgement. But the nightmare Luna was becoming saw only treachery and deceit.

“There came a point when she asked Coltinado to cross a line he never could. She asked him to use his power over the mind to force the ponies of Equestria to love only her and to shun her sister and her sun.

“When he refused, and worse, when her Bat Pony followers agreed with his decision, Luna finally fell. She flew into a rage and banished them from Equestria, to suffer in the frozen wastes of the north, forever. That very night, I hear, Luna confronted her sister and declared herself ‘Nightmare Moon.’”

The elder Bat pony sighed and took a long draft from her mug. “Coltinado, for his part, was heartbroken, both at his failure and the loss of his dearest friend. He was a very old stallion, and such hardships were simply too much for him to bear. He passed away en route, and, out of respect, the first thing the Bat Ponies of the era did upon completing their journey was build a tomb for the great pony who had guided them well for generations and lost his life trying to rescue their princess.

“The central buildings in the town are, so they say, built around Coltinado’s tomb. They were the original settlement long before the caves most Bat Ponies now call home were even discovered.”

Daring’s eyes were bulging to the point where they threatened to pop right out of their sockets. A faint trail of drool fell from her mouth as dreams of new adventure and discovery flashed across her mind. “Wow. I’d really like to see that tomb.” She turned to Angel. “Can we go there first, like, right now?”

Angel rolled her eyes, and Autumn Night chuckled with a sound like tinkling bells. “Oh dear, don’t you think if we knew where the tomb was, the true story of Coltinado would be more widely known? Heavens, it’d probably be one of the biggest tourist attractions in Equestria.”

Daring sagged, knowing from experience that the older mare was right.

The elder Bat Pony reached over and patted her on the hoof. “Don’t worry, dear. You wouldn’t be the first to dream of that tomb. Coltinado was buried with all his worldly possessions, including a considerable fortune, and his personal journal. Can you imagine, a book containing all the secrets of a magic user so great even Luna herself sought his council? Such a treasure would be beyond the greatest dreams of avarice.

“In fact, this was the primary reason the Bat Ponies of the era refused Celestia’s offer to rejoin Equestria when Luna was gone. Oh, they claimed they were simply obeying their sovereign’s last order, but in reality, they were protecting the tomb from those who would plunder it and protecting those who sought plunder from the sorcerer’s curse.”

Daring’s ears perked. “Curse?”

“Yeah, they say the tomb is supposed to be cursed or something.” Angel chipped in, having had her fill of cake. “Apparently Coltinado’s sense of justice and honour lived on, even after he died. Anypony who tries to rob the place gets consumed by their own inner darkness.”

“Huh, sure they do.” Daring rolled her eyes. “No offence, it’s a great story and all, but I’ve seen plenty of tombs in my time. A few of them were booby trapped, but there is no such thing as curses.”

“And that, dear, is largely why the Bat Ponies of the past have had such a hard time opening up to the other races.” Autumn Night’s ears wilted, and she gazed into the contents of her mug. “The curse may or may not be real, but that isn’t the point. Other ponies seem to think that their lack of belief gives them the right to disturb what has been laid to rest.

“Ponies judge things on what they know, what fits into their idealised version of the world. If anything, be it an abstract concept, like a curse, or those who would stand by a figure that was publicly demonized, flies in the face of what they believe, they scoff and scorn and shun them until they go away. They think rules don’t apply to them just because they aren’t their rules.

“The truth is, Ms Yearling, that, had they not been banished, the Bat Ponies would have left Equestria eventually anyway. How could they live side by side with those who feared them for how they looked or hated them for honouring a different princess than everypony else?”

Daring hung her head and stared at her hooves, her entire form visibly wilting. She had always considered herself a very open-minded pony. She did her homework and tried to avoid taking things at face value. Yet she had just disrespected a group of ponies about which she knew nothing two times in as many minutes. What would her parents think?

She sighed. “Sorry.”

Chapter Seven- The Late Fetlock Hooves, Part Two

Chapter Seven: The Late Fetlock Hooves, Part Two

By Feather Scratch

Proof Read by Comet Burst and q97randomguy

“So, to summarise: you thinks Hooves and Dusk killed each other during a violent storm over the affections of a mare.”

“More or less.”

“And you think the ponies of the town know what happened but are covering it up.”

“That’s the current theory.”

“And you’re just gonna waltz in and blow the lid off the whole thing.”

“Yes.”

“Bleh, this feels like a cheesy period drama. I feel like I should be wearing a bonnet and a skirt the size of a tent.”

Artemis paused just as he and Bright Eyes reached the door of the Wagon Wheel. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes and turned to his frowning companion. “Look, just humour me for a little while longer. I have one last thing I want to look into. If I’m wrong, I’ll drop the whole idea. Honestly, you’re as bad as I was twenty years ago.”

Bright Eyes sniggered. “What, you wanted to wear poufy dresses and bonnets too?”

“Smart ass.”

“In all seriousness though—” Bright Eyes’ ears drooped and she wrapped her wings around her forelegs “—your idea is actually starting to scare me a little. Don’t get me wrong, I still think it’s nonsense... but it’s really well-thought-out nonsense. If you’re right, that would mean we’re a hundred miles from nowhere in a town full of ponies willing to cover up a murder.

“Maybe... maybe we should just keep our mouths shut. If we wait ‘til we’re back south, we could tell the royal guards, and they could handle it.”

Artemis smiled and rubbed her shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry. Believe it or not, I’m not that reckless. Heck, even I’ve read The Wicker Mare.

“I highly doubt the whole town is involved. If they were, why would the Watch ask us to come here to identify the victim? Or, why would Captain Blossom let me go Downtown to take a look at Dusk Thunder? If they were all in on it, all they had to do was hide the body and say nothing.

“No.” Artemis scratched his chin. “I’m fairly certain Blossom, at least, is on the up and up. The coroner on the other hoof... I pointed out inconsistencies in the official assessment, he even acknowledged seeing one, but he just dismissed them out of hoof. He agreed that the chest wound looked like it came from a knife. That alone should have been grounds for further investigation. But no, he thinks it’s just a coincidence.”

Bright Eyes nodded, frowning. “Okay, so the coroner may be involved. Makes sense, but he isn’t a mare. If the Watch aren’t involved, who else do we suspect?”

“I never said the Watch weren’t involved.” Artemis waved a hoof. “I just said Blossom wasn’t. I don’t know enough to go pointing hooves yet, but I think the Night Watch or, at least, certain elements within the Night Watch know something and aren’t sharing.”

“And you’re basing this on...”

“The scenario itself. The Night Watch were the ones on duty at the time of death. They were first on the scene and had Dusk Thunder sequestered in their own private morgue, which it turns out, is in the coroner’s home.” Artemis straightened up and stomped the ground for emphasis. “If the Night Watch were even half as disciplined as the members of the Day Watch I’ve seen, there’s no way they wouldn’t have noticed one of their own going MIA during a potentially life-threatening storm. They would have been working in pairs at the very least, due to the wind.”

“So, there’s at least one member of the Night Watch involved as well.” Bright Eyes ruffled her feathers and flicked her tail. “Do we think this is our mystery mare?”

Artemis raised a brow and gave a crooked grin. “What’s this ‘we’ stuff all of a sudden?”

“Meh.” The Pegasus shrugged. “In for a bit, in for a whole sack of bits. If you’re right, I wanna help. If you’re wrong, I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’”

Artemis snorted. “Duly noted. And to answer your question, no. While we can’t rule out the possibility just yet, I haven’t seen a Bat Pony yet whose mane wasn’t some shade of blue, black or purple.”

“So?”

“So, I found a hair near the hoofprint in the caboose. It was blonde. A particular shade of blonde we’ve both seen before.”

The Pegasus’ face was blank for a moment before her pupils dilated, and she whipped around to stare at the still-closed door of the Wagon Wheel. “You’ve gotta be yankin’ my feathers! Rough Diamond? But... she’s a total sweetheart.”

“Yes, she is.” Artemis looked his companion square in the eyes. “She’s sweet and kind and easy on the eyes to boot. It’d take a stallion with a heart of stone to resist her charms. Not to mention, she said Hooves had been staying with her at the inn ever since he’d arrived. They would have had plenty of time to get to know each other.

“And before you start—” Artemis raised a hoof just as Bright Eyes opened her mouth “—with the whole ‘that could be anypony’s hair’ bit, I suspected Rough Diamond before we got to the caboose.

“In the hall, when you had just gotten back from your run, she said she was sorry Hooves made a ‘mess of himself.’ But how would she have known that? Not even Gus saw the bodies, and he worked at the scene.”

Bright Eyes sighed and nodded. “Fine. So, what’s our next move?”

Artemis put a hoof on the door. “I need you to keep Rough Diamond distracted for a while. I need to check out the knives in the kitchen.”

“What—” Bright Eyes cocked a brow “—you expecting to find a bloody clever hanging from the wall?”

“Actually, it’d be more of a carving knife.” Artemis grinned and pushed open the door. “But that’s the general idea, yeah.”

“You’re either a genius or an idiot, and it disturbs me that I can’t tell which.”

~~~

Artemis nosed his way into the surprisingly large kitchen, loaded wall to wall with anything and everything a discerning chef could ever want. Suspended on hooks over a well-scrubbed island in the centre of the room were iron pots and pans of every size. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined nearly two whole walls and boasted every herb, seasoning, condiment, and esoteric ingredient known to ponykind, the purposes of which were secrets revealed only to those most skilled in the art of fine cuisine. And there, hanging to either side of an antique coal oven, were the rows of gleaming knives he had been looking for.

Regrettably for the Bright Eyes theory, none of them were stained red with blood. But thankfully for Artemis, she took to being a distraction like a Dragon to gems, convincing Rough Diamond that, after spending the morning with a bore like Artemis, she needed a little mare time. Rough Diamond agreed to show her the hot springs, and Artemis had the inn to himself. He’d need the time for his little experiment.

First, he gathered every knife he could see and laid them on the counter of the island. Then he systematically went through every drawer in the room until he found one with medical supplies. “Let’s see, bandages, antiseptic, laudanum, pretty sure that’s illegal, ah!” He pulled out a bottle of Turf-be-Gone, extra strength laxative elixir and set it next to the knives.

He paused a moment and scanned the room. Snorting, he trotted back into the hall and, after some poking around, found the cleaning supply closet, returning a moment later with a bucket and a bottle of bleach.

“I will never understand how you came up with this, Hooves.”

Filling the bucket with a liberal mix of bleach and laxative, Artemis picked up the first knife and dunked it, making sure the entire blade was coated in the acrid brew. When he was satisfied, he set it carefully aside and repeated the process with every knife.

Finished, he stood back and examined his work. “I really hope I’m wrong about you Diamond.”

Minutes passed, and nothing seemed to happen. The blades just sat there, glistening in their bowel-wrenching coating. Artemis, who had started swaying a little from the fumes, breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t mind being wrong if it meant he didn’t have to accuse an innocent ma—

A mark on one of the blades caught his eye. It was faint, but the longer he looked, the clearer it, and others like it, became. Pale, pink streaks ran from the tip to nearly half the length of the blade.

Artemis fell to his haunches and rubbed his eyes. “Hooves, what did you get yourself into?”

Wrapping the marked knife gingerly in a cloth, Artemis left the kitchen and made a beeline for the guard house. It was time to end this.

~~~

“And that’s the Wagon Wheel Inn. Considering it’s the only place in town where a visitor can find lodgings, it’s been one of the backbones of the community for generations.” Angel and Daring had left the tourist board to have a quick look around town before it got dark. After visiting the guard posts, market district, and winery, Angel decided she’d better show Daring where she’d be staying.

“As I’m sure you can tell it was constructed entirely out of old settler wagons. It’s seen a lot of traffic over the years, even played host to a few celebrities. Just last year, a famous magician from down south stayed here!” Angel’s enthusiasm faltered a little. “She did leave in a hurry when one of her fireworks caused the wheel on the door to fall and clonk her on the head, though.”

Daring’s eyes were wide with a wonder only a professional could have in the face of, what anypony else would call, junk. “Amazing. This whole town, it’s like, not a single resource was wasted. I can’t imagine the kind of ingenuity half of this stuff would have taken.”

Angel chuckled. “Well, it’s nice to see somepony who appreciates it. Honestly, I just memorise this stuff by rote. I never really stop to think about it.”

“Hey, Angel?” Daring dropped her gaze to the ground and began idly drawing circles in the dirt. “I’m sorry about earlier, at your aunt’s place. I really didn’t mean to offend either of you.”

Angel snorted and chuckled. “Hey, relax. You couldn’t offend Auntie Autumn if you tried. And me, I was mostly just upset we weren’t having the chocolate cake I know she has stashed away in the cupboard.” Angel’s ears drooped, and she flashed Daring a sheepish grin. “I guess I was venting. Sorry.”

Daring matched Angel’s gaze, and for a moment, neither spoke. Daring was the first to break the silence as her sombre mask cracked, and she broke into a full-bellied guffaw. “Oh, sweet Celestia. Somepony call the park ranger. Things just got sappy!” At that, Angel couldn’t help but join in, and before long, the mares were clutching each other for support.

After nearly a full minute laughing, they took notice of the strange looks they were drawing from passers-by and forced themselves to calm down.

“Oh. Oh boy. Anyway—” Angel climbed back to her hooves and turned towards the Inn “—let’s get you settled in.” Just as she reached for the door, it swung open, and she was unceremoniously barrelled over by the rushing stallion coming in the opposite direction.

“What the hay!” Angel flailed and kicked, landing a few solid blows before Artemis could disentangle himself from her and stagger back to his hooves.

Daring placed herself between the two just in time to intercept the snarling Bat Pony mid-lunge. “Wow there, Angel! It’s just Artemis.” She turned to her godfather, who was gingerly rubbing his newly blossoming bruises. “Artemis, what’s going on?”

Artemis grimaced and looked his goddaughter in the eye. “Wait inside. After I round everypony up, I’ll explain everything.”

Author's Note

Hey everypony.
I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaack!

Hope you enjoy this brief interlude before we get to the really juicy stuff in the next part.

If anyone's curious, Artemis' little test is actually based on a real-world CSI method for detecting blood developed in the 19th century called the "Kastle-Meyer" test. The combination of the hydrogen peroxide in the bleach and the phenolphthalein in the laxative cause the haemoglobin in any residual blood traces to turn pink.

The more you know.:twilightsmile: