Daring Do and the Crown of Ages

Chapters

Cold Betrayal
Canterlot, 1935
Parlez-vous prançais?
Hunting Down the Journal
Running Down Streets
Gryphons
Mechanical Beast
Beneath the Waves

Cold Betrayal

Cold snow beat across the mare’s face as the winds picked up in ferocity, threatening to whip the pith helmet right off from her head. She tightened it down and continued her arduous trek up the mountainside as the other two ponies followed behind, packs loaded with all of the camping gear to last for several days.

Slowly the band made it to the top of the ledge, overlooking a valley of snow-covered rock formations and sparse tree coverage. The mare in the pith helmet stood silently, producing two pieces of old parchment and holding them up. The wind made it difficult to hold the flimsy paper up, so she motioned for one of the two other ponies to come over with a wave of her hoof. He shot his fellow stallion a quick glance, and he nodded.

The mare held the paper to this pony’s back, glancing up at the different rock formations. She seemed satisfied in what she saw, and put the crumpled parchment back in its sleeve and back into the bag she had slung over her shoulders.

“This is it,” she stated through her teeth as she scribbled some notes down in a pocket journal.

“Doctor, where do we go now?” asked the stallion who stood behind her.

“Along this ridge for about an hour. Hopefully we can make it to the site this afternoon and head out tomorrow.”

“You hope,”

“That’s my plan, yes.”

****

They trudged through the snow for some time. The mare led the way as usual, with the two grumbling stallions a short distance behind. She kept her ears open in an attempt to hear what they were mumbling about, but it was hard to make anything out over the cry of the wind.

For the past week they had trekked out into the cold wildernesses to the north no less than four times, always in pursuit of some last vestige of a society that predated Equestria itself. Everypony was getting sick and tired of lugging the equipment, of freezing their flanks off, of wasting the time and energy. Mutinous feelings were at an all time high, and the mare feared that something was ahoof.

“Five minute break,” she called out. They had arrived at a ledge of sorts that once again overlooked the grand vista of the valley, but had rocks jutting out far enough for one to be able to rest on.

The mare sat down on a rock herself, taking out an aluminum canteen and flipping it upside down. Mumbling quietly to themselves a short distance away, the two stallions commented on what they believed to be the contents.

“I bet it’s some kind of liquor. Whiskey or something. Hard cider.”

“Nah, I bet it’s just water. That’s a canteen from the war, not a flask.”

“How could she not drink something to dullen her down? Think of how many she’s seen snuff it right before her eyes. Probably hears them, hears their voices...”

“She doesn’t strike me as being haunted,” he replied. The stallion suddenly got very serious, and lowered his voice to a mere whisper.

“Hey... should I go for it now?”

“Might not get a better chance. This is as far out as you can get.”

The two stallions nodded to each other. The one who had suggested the idea stood up, and approached the mare from behind. He wiped the snow off from his hoof, and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“I’d like to get a look at that map you’ve been using this whole time,” he said, “Mind if I look?”

Wordlessly, the mare produced the same piece of paper containing the map, holding it up for the stallion to take. He did, and positioned himself on the very edge overlooking the valley far below. His eyes darted from points on the well-worn parchment to the corresponding physical features spread out before him as if he were taking it in, but it was a trick.

“Where’s this point here?” He asked of the mare, pointing to a stone building on the map that did not appear as a snow-covered mound down below. Taking the map back into her own hooves, the mare looked down into the valley carefully and intently, while turning her back on the stallion.

It was then that he produced a pistol from within his winter coat, and levelled it at the back of the pony’s skull. His mutinous feelings had reached a peak, and he was ready and willing to commit the murder.

He fired one shot, sending the bullet in through the back of the pith helmet. The pony collapsed, pitching forward and tumbling over the edge of the cliff helplessly. Her body disappeared down into the rolling fog below.

“Got ‘er,” he said, “Right in the back of the head.”

“Wow, so now it’s over, just like that?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s get the damn thing, and then Boss’ll be around to bring us back to his camp.”

Their thoughts were interrupted by an angry cry as a yellowish pegasus descended from the sky at incredible speed and landed a flying kick into the chest of the pony holding the gun. He dropped it onto the icy rocks, watching the weapon slide off and down into the ravine.

The stallion retaliated by kicking the mare off of himself, but she latched on. How had she survived a direct gunshot to the back of the skull? Their hooves struck each other and they rolled in the snow, striking and slamming. The stallion bit at her leg that was pinning him down and she screamed out. He felt something move and gravity shifted. He was face down, hurtling towards oblivion through rolling fog.

The mare watched the stallion fall to his death, and looked back towards the other one with a bloody nose. She was panting heavily, and felt the form of a hot bullet lodged in the back of her hemet. It had embedded itself between the pith and the inner steel frame, denting it inwards and pressing uncomfortably against the back of her scalp. She took the helmet off and scooped the bullet fragments out into the snow.

“Want some water?” she offered after taking a swig out of her canteen. The other pony shook his head.

“The break is over. I’m not sure what got into him, and it better not happen with you, got it?”

“I don’t know what his problem was...” the stallion stuttered, “He started raving like a lunatic, muttering under his breath. I tried to reason with him...”

“Tell me next time. I’d rather know than have somepony try and fail to reason with a murderer. Come on, let’s get going.”

****

The mare's name was Daring Do, an up and coming scholar who taught at Canterlot University on subjects such as Equine History. She also doubled as a research assistant at the local museum. That research included the recovery of all sorts of items, from Sapphire jackals to Goblets from medieval Gryphony, Staffs belonging to wizards of ancient times, and now artifacts from an extinct Unicorn civilization to the north, rumored to be the last remnants of Unicornia.

She regretted the actions that had preceded; though the other pony had tried to murder her, she had wound up killing him instead. It certainly wouldn't help the other pony trust her. And why should he? Daring had encountered distrust and mutiny often, and she knew why. Artifact recovery was dangerous and tricky, and nopony really wanted to risk their neck for some old relic. Often times they would want Daring to recover the artifact, only for them to betray her and claim it for themselves.

The form of a snow-covered stone castle loomed above them, and Daring grinned inwardly. They were here! The inside was either trap-laden, or had been left functional. She was hoping for the latter.

"Ms. Do?" the stallion asked, causing Daring to pause as she had begun to stretch her wings.

"Wait a second, you'll see."

She flew up the wall, entering through an open window hole about four meters above the ground and coming to a rest on the freezing stone. Peering down at the stallion below her, she tossed the end of what looked like a tapered rope. The whip was a versatile tool that acted in the same capacity as rope for Daring, but without the need to tie a lasso to grab onto things. In this case, it allowed the stallion to scale the side of the castle wall and enter through the window.

"Watch out," she warned, "I'm not sure if this is functional, or a trap. Watch where you step."

The corridor exposed to the outside by the window was glazed over in years and years of blizzard buildup and coated in icicles. It was nearly like walking through an icy cave, with the actual stone of the walls barely visible beneath the levels. Daring slid forwards and through another passage, coming to stop on solid stone at the base of a great circular staircase.

The stallion smiled to himself as Daring Do took to the stairs carefully. He was ready to do what he had been planning on doing all along, something that his companion had jumped the gun on. He had a revolver of his own tucked away, and he knew Daring herself did not have a firearm. He could hold her at gunpoint, shooting her down was completely unnecessary. After he had taken the artifact by force, he would rendezvous with his employer, to be richly rewarded for his prize.

The top of the stone staircase led to a circular chamber with small octagonal tiles , and a throne in the very center. Daring didn’t enter the chamber immediately, wanting to first examine things thoroughly. The stallion had other plans.

“What are you doing?” she stammered, glancing up at him and seeing down the barrel of a gun. In that instant her mind reeled, going from a state of confusion to a state of fear and then to a state of anger in a fraction of a second. What was with ponies and betraying her?

“Taking this for myself,” replied the stallion, “Don’t move.”

He stepped out onto the stone octagons, expecting something to jump out at him. Nothing did, and he stepped slowly backwards towards the throne at the center of the chamber, his gunpoint still trained on the adventuress.

He grabbed at an ornate crown sitting on the center of the throne’s seat. He wasn’t as well versed in archaeology as the scholars like Daring, but the item was immediately recognizable. He had seen ones like it made out of tin and fake jewels at many a re-enactment pageant. It was the crown of Princess Platinum, the actual crown itself.

They had searched for this for weeks up here in the frozen wastelands, treading from campsite to campsite, staying at run-down villages and inspecting ruins that had no sign of being part of old Unicornia at all. Daring Do had tracked this location down and now, after all that work, here he was with the crown itself in his hooves. He sat himself down in the throne itself, gun still trained on the mare bent down near the entryway. The throne chair had a velvety quality to it, and he smiled.

As soon as he sat down, a terrible scream filled the tower as the throne chair itself plummeted down, along with all of the octagonal tiles and crashed at the bottom of the tower, crushing the stallion beneath their weight and sending the priceless crown clattering to the ground.

Daring raised a brow. She had thought the tower was relatively safe, compared to the other temples and trap-filled places of ruin she had visited in the past. Still, it was better that a traitorous swine had discovered the trap than if she had done it herself. She tightened her helmet down, and descended the stairs.

Around her, things continued to fall. Blocks slid out of place, causing sections of the wall to collapse. Chunks of rock bounded down the stairs after her, and Daring leaped forward and rolled to the side mid-air, just narrowly avoiding getting clobbered. A floor tile came loose from what was left above, striking he on the shoulders and causing her to lose control of her flight. She smashed against the rock wall and fell to the bottom of the stone floor.

Dust settled, and Daring found herself coughing. She waved the cloud out of her face, searching in earnest for the Crown.

Aha! There it was!

It had rolled over to the threshold, now cracked open and exposed to the blowing wintery winds. Her soaring heart was trampled on quickly as a clawed, blueish foot smashed down by her face, and a long appendage with a grasper at the tip scooped the crown out from under her nose.

Ahuizotl!

“Thank you very much for your assistance, Ms. Do!” he said to her with a toothy grin spreading across his face.

“Drop dead!” Daring spat at him.

"To lose one’s teammate may be regarded as misfortune. To lose both looks like carelessness."

"And here I thought you were entirely uncultured," Daring shot back.

"You didn't trust them, did you?" Ahuizotl asked. The pony kept quiet.

"If there's one thing I live by and truly believe, it's that you can't trust anyone. Not even yourself. What tipped you off?"

Once again, Daring didn't respond. Ahuizotl shrugged.

"So much for conversation. I'll keep this short and sweet Ms. Do, I intend to.."

"Doctor."

"Doctor Do, alright. As I said... I intend to forgo the complicated traps this time. I'll execute you once and for all, for good this time. I'm afraid it is good-bye this time."

"Hasn't worked for you yet."

"But it will," insisted Ahuizotl, fiddling with the crown, "If you're not crushed by the impact, you'll be stuck and freeze to death. Either way, there’ll be no escape for you this time."

He snapped the fingers on his tail-hand, and a sled drawn by timberwolves came up and over the snowy hill. Daring's gaze observed the sled. The wooden form was empty save for rope. They weren't carrying any gear?

She was suddenly grabbed forcefully, and though she flailed and kicked at her captors, the multiple leopards and the timberwolves pinned her down. She felt tight ropes squeeze into her sides painfully. A knot was tied, her hooves bound as she was thrown into the sled face-down. Another set of ropes lashed her to the sled, leaving her attached and helpless to break free. She might as well be part of the sled.

"Our final parting deserves more pomp and circumstance, but I've nothing better to say than adieu, adios, and good riddance," Ahuizotl said with a malicious grin. Daring could only watch as the trees and snow slid past her as the sled took off with her helplessly strapped in for the ride.

She couldn’t see Ahuizotl and his minions disappear behind her. The rocky hills, scrubby tree coverage and the endless snow was the only thing she could see. Blasts of it hit her when the sled went over a bump, acting like a whitewash to add insult to injury. She blew the snow off from her face as best she could, but the sled was now going so fast that every small bump resulted in her getting pelted in the face.

She tried leaning to the side, seeing if she could press her weight to move the sled. It seemed to work, and the sled veered to the left. It did not slow down in its downwards decent at all. Daring tugged at the knots bounding her to the sled, but they were too tightly tied.

A thought crossed her mind, a realization. Ahuizotl had purposely sent her zooming off this way for a reason. The cliff was ahead! She could make out the drop through her snow-covered face.

She frantically tried swerving violently. If she could only tip the sled over! The possibility of that happening ended as she went over the edge of the cliff. The snow was blown away as quickly as it had coated her, and searing wind batted at her now. Far below was the rocky bottom and an icy river, rushing up to meet her as the sled dropped like a rock.

****

“How does she look? Has she gone over?” Ahuizotl asked giddily, coming up to the edge of the cliff himself on the way back to base camp. He scanned the ravine, immediately picking out the dropping form of the wooden sled and its pony occupant. He had done it! She was hurtling towards certain doom, and....

His grin subsided instantly. The sled wasn’t falling. It was growing smaller in the distance by the second as it flew away. From the top sprouted Daring’s wings, acting like the wings on a glider.

“Better luck next time, Ahuizotl!” She shouted from afar.

Daring felt like she had dodged a bullet. She had been very fortunate that the goons hadn’t thought to tie her wings. Maybe Ahuizotl had assumed them broken, but her ability to extend them and control the sled’s flight path allowed her to turn the death trap into something of an aircraft.

“Curse you Daring Do!” Ahuizotl shouted to himself as the craft disappeared out of sight into the clouds.

Though he had the crown in tow, he had been looking forward to being able t be rid of Daring, and once again he had been robbed of his satisfaction. In his frustration he punched what he thought was a mound of snow with a pawed fist, and recoiled in pain as it struck solid rock.

Canterlot, 1935

“I had it Dusty. I had it in my hooves.”

Dusty sighed. He and Daring sat in her now-empty classroom, discussing her recent quest. The room was modest in size and lined with every relevant poster or painting pertaining to the History class’ current unit of study. The semester was nearing its completion, so they were up to recent history, namely the war with Gryphony and its conclusion. Some of the posters represented old propaganda (from both sides of the conflict), others battlefield photographs of ponies decked out in metal helmets and sitting in dirt trenches. Daring had her father’s old helmet sitting on her desk, and next to the board was a copy of the Canterlot Daily from 1918 that read “Victory! Gryphony Signs Peace Treaty!”

“Ahuizotl took it from you, I presume?”

“Yes,” Daring replied glumly, “It’s a shame, usually I figure out how to get it back from him the same day.”

“What exactly happened?” Dusty inquired, “We sent you off with an entire team!”

“Some deserted. Some became mysteriously ill. A couple of them even took an attempt at my life. I don’t know what it is I did.”

“Who were the ones who tried it?”

“A couple of replacements. Just about everypony else was gone when they came along. They came to me, actually. I figured they were locals from the village.”

“You ought to be more careful with who you trust Daring,” Dusty asserted. He paced about the classroom, glancing at the setup idly.

“You end your curriculum with the war?”

“No, there’s about a week and a half left. We talk about the last decade or so and finish up with the economic crisis before the students take their finals. This goes by fast since they’ve all been alive for it, you should see how long it takes to crawl through the rise and fall of Discord.”

“Daring,” Dusty began, “I actually wanted to know about how the trip went in more detail... erm, precise detail.”

“Why?”

“Well, there’s a lot of pressure to get Princess Platinum’s crown. When some of our more... well established contributors got wind of what our next acquisition might be they were intrigued. I’d hate to disappoint them. We’re strapped for cash as it is.”

“Alright, well tell them the crown was taken off by thieves, and that we’re looking into how to retrieve it, there’s nothing hard about that,” said Daring. She loosened up her bow tie and set her glasses down on the desk.

“Daring, I guess I’d better cut right to the chase?”

“Huh?”

“Princess Celestia has personally asked to meet with you and I this afternoon. It’s about this crown.”

****

Celestia’s imposing figure left its impression on Daring as she and Dusty sat across the conference table from her. To say that she was ‘taller than the other ponies’ would be an understatement. As Daring had to relay her account of the journey to her Princess she could feel a droplet of sweat running down her snout from the pressure.

“... and so then when the dust settled, Ahuizotl appeared and claimed the crown for his own. He and his minions tried to kill me by strapping me to a sled and sending me off a cliffside.”

“How did you manage to survive?” Celestia’s soothing voice asked. For a figure so magnificent yet omnipotent, her voice and manner were actually rather calming to hear. It was motherly in a way.

“I..uh... I used my wings and steered the sled in the air. I glided all the way back to the village, and then made my way back home.”

“I see,” Celestia said. She turned her head to the side and motioned for one of her guards to call in an assistant. Through the elegant double doors of the chamber came a amber unicorn holding a large scroll aloft with her magic, placing it gently down in front of her ivory princess before bowing out to depart.

“I know of Ahuizotl, Professor Do, Professor Shelves. I have placed together a map of some of his activity... a princess must know these things about high-profile international criminals, after all. While Ahuizotl is not cheif on the list, smuggling and illegal trade in historical antiquities has warranted his monitoring.”

She waved her glowing multicolor mane at the edge of the scroll, unfurling it upon the conference table so that Daring and Dusty could view it. The map was a political map of the world with countries clearly labeled. A few routes over the oceans and between continents were labelled in bright red, while some photographs of locations had been stuck on. In the continent to the South, for instance Ahuizotl’s jungle palace was pictured and labelled. From there sprung trade routed, smuggling corridors and a whole manner of crime highways for him to take artifacts to and from.

“He has a taste for the powerful, yet only wants to keep those he believes have some kind of supernatural ability,” Celestia explained, “I know not of any kind of supernatural powers of Platinum’s crown, so the reasonable assumption is that he would sell it, correct?”

“Yes your highness,” Dusty piped up, “We agree. That’s been the case a number of times in the past when something he’s stolen has winded up being sold on the market. Sometimes he even pushes them as far away as the Hoofiet Union.”

“I must impress upon both of you the importance of this. It is a major part of Equestria’s history, and to be frank, something that I myself have longed for years to be accessible.”

“Yes, your highness.”

“My intention is to recover that crown from wherever it has been taken. You will both assist in this?”

Daring was about to answer, but Dusty opened his mouth first.

“Your highness, with all due respect, I’m afraid I’m not cut out for the kind of heroics this situation calls for,” Dusty sheepishly said, “Ten years ago I would have gone in a heartbeat. Five years ago I would have considered it. I’m afraid adventuring is the pursuit of the young.”

“What Mr. Shelves means,” Daring continued, drawing a sharp look from her elder friend, “...is that he’d rather not do anything life-threatening if it could be avoided. Perhaps there’s a way to...”

“You both seem to jump to the conclusion that I’m asking you to go and do something dangerous,” Celestia responded, “That is not the case. What my suggestion would be is to track down where the crown is likely to be resold or delivered to some rich collector, and reclaim it.”

“Yeah, but to buy it back would cost over two million bits at least!” Dusty conjectured.

“The Royal Funds cannot handle that I’m afraid,” Celestia said with a shake of her head, “The crown is spending all it can on social programs due to the economic crisis. This is the sixth year of it. I can, however, offer compensation for the pair of you. Twenty thousand bits each, provided the crown returns safely.”

Daring and Dusty looked at each other blankly.

Twenty Thousand he mouthed at her, aghast. His mouth turned up in a grin.

That’s more than twice my annual salary Daring thought. She was paid nine thousand bits per year as a professor, and the Princess was offering her twice that for the crown.

“I’ll do it,” Daring said.

“I as well,” agreed Dusty.

“Then it’s settled. You will both assist in reacquiring the Crown of Princess Platinum.”

****

“Twenty Thousand! Can you believe it?”

Dusty Shelves sat in the pegasus adventurer’s living room as Daring rummaged about frantically. She had insisted on taking the very first airship flight out of Equestria. The course of the conversation with Princess Celestia had led them to believe that the crown had been scooped up by a wealthy collector in Prance, on a continent across the Anterlic ocean.

“It could really save our necks on this one,” Daring shouted across the room. She was digging in her closet, tossing out boxes of things in search for extra gear.

“If this goes well, I’m putting half of it towards my retirement, and the other half towards several expeditions I’ve been really meaning to do,” said Dusty between sips of very strong bottled cider, “You’ll head them as usual, correct?”

“Well jeez Dusty, don’t get ahead of yourself! We haven’t even left to get the crown!”

“Oh I know. I’m thinking of pairing you and Mr. Bravado up, sending you both down to Zebrica.”

“What’s in Zebrica?”

“Oh, North Zebrica. In the desert. There’s some kind of emperor’s city that’s just started being dug up. The other expedition I have in mind involves a Gazelle fertility idol.”

Daring tossed a pith helmet from inside her closet, followed by a bag strap and then a worn-looking bag. Daring herself exited the closet next, looking deeply concerned.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just had a bit of a thought, that’s all.”

“And?”

“Well,” began Daring, “I’ve gotten around to thinking about what Ahizotl said to me. In a way I guess he was right... can I trust anypony?”

“You can trust me, Daring,” Dusty said, “We’ve been friends since you were just a youngster.”

“Oh, I don’t mean you. I don’t mean old friends like Bravado, Grace or anypony else.”

She sighed, placing in front of Dusty a photograph of herself, a campaign-hat wearing ex-sergeant and a stunning blonde pegasus posing on the edge of a jungle.

“It’s been a couple years, but ever since what happened with Elise I’ve had a hard time getting real acquainted with anypony new. Come to think of it, half of the new ponies I’ve met have tried to hurt me in some way or another. Is it the fact that I’m more well-known and my name’s out there now? Is it my fault for being unapproachable?”

Dusty placed the photograph on a coffee table covered in graded quizzes, and looked back to Daring as the pony continued to rummage through her belongings, coming up with gear to bring.

“I wouldn’t say that you’ve grown unapproachable,” he said, “If anything, your first point was closer. Everypony in the field of archaeology knows who you are. Among historians, too you’re something of a celebrity.”

“Stop, you’re going to fill my head full of hot air if you say stuff like that.”

“It’s true. Daring Do isn’t a household name -at least not yet- but it is a name known internationally among academics. Who knows, maybe the credit for the discover of Unicornia and the crown of Platinum will make you a household name.”

“Great, then I’ll have to worry about the mailmare, the baker and the applejuice maker stabbing me in the back now,” said Daring.

“Look Daring,” Dusty began, standing up and pacing around her living room, “You shouldn’t take the fact that a few hooligans here and there have tried to cheat you out of your prize -or even kill you- as a statement on your own character. If anything it’s simply a sign that you’ve really moved up in the world, and the lowlifes who can’t make success for themselves see you as an opportunity to steal glory from. Do you see what I’m saying?”

“I suppose,” replied Daring, stowing away her father’s old war pistol and some spare ammunition, “I’m just sick of being lied to. I’m sick of Ahuizotl and his games. I’m sick of these ‘assistants’ and pack-carriers who try to pull something when I’m not looking. I don’t need extra life threateners, the ruins I visit do that enough as it is.”

“So what, you’re saying you want to be done with it all?”

“No,” Daring answered, “That’d be admitting defeat, and I don’t want to admit defeat. No... I’m just going to start out by trusting nopony new. I’ll make them prove themselves trustworthy first.”

“You’ll turn yourself into a paranoid wreck that way.”

Daring considered her gear pile as she coiled up an old leather whip that she had reinforced herself in her hooves. It was probably enough for a weekend trip at this time. They’d have to get to work and get out in two day’s time for her to be in Equestria in time to make her next set of classes she had to teach.

“I wouldn’t say paranoid,” Daring replied as she tossed her coiled up whip onto the top of the pile, “I just need to take all the necessary precautions.”

Parlez-vous prançais?

Dusty Shelves and Daring Do blended into the crowds very nicely. The grey stallion wore a black homburg hat over his bespectacled face as he flipped through the pages of a book. Daring wore a bowler cap herself, having left the pith helmet in her hotel room. She had even gone so far as to trade her usual pickle-colored adventurer’s shirt for a beige one, which she wore with a tie. For Equestrians (who were used to the regularity of no clothing) they may have seemed overly dressed to anypony at home, but in the streets of Prance it was the norm. The stallions all seemed to be wearing suits and felt hats of some kind, while many of the mares had customized elaborate dresses of flashy colors.

“You know, sooner or later somepony’s going to mistake you for a stallion while you’re not in a dress,” Dusty joked.

“There is absolutely no way I’m getting in one of those froo-froo lacy things,” Daring snorted, “Besides, that’s the point. I cut back my long eyelashes... we’re incognito. You’re Dan Wrong and I’m Daren Wrong.”

“What?”

“We’re the Wrong Brothers!”

“Daring,” Dusty said with a shake of his head “That’s never going to work. Nopony’s going to believe that you’re a stallion.”

“You just said-”

An older mare bumped into Daring sideways, knocking her down and dropping her groceries. Daring got back on her hooves in a second, shaking herself off.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” the old mare apologized.

“It’s nothing,” Daring said with a bit of added rumble to her voice, “let me help you.”

“Oh, I’m fine sir. Nothing got spilled out of the bag. My apologies again.”

The old mare tottered off with her bag in tow, and Daring looked smugly back over to Dusty.

“Alright, so you can pull the part off to fool passers by. But why the added secrecy?” he implored.

“Fatcat’s a slimy sexist pig, for one. Just wait and see. Two, he’d be on guard for Daring Do or Dusty Shelves or both if he’s got something to hide. We’re known among relic-heads.”

“I suppose,” admitted Dusty, “So we’re posing as a pair of brothers who...”

“We’re looking to buy,” Daring said, “We’re collectors of weapons and political antiques, and we’re looking to expand to the ages-old... say, do you have the address?”

“Fifteen Rue du sabot... am I pronouncing that correctly?”

“Yeah. Let me do the talking though, I’ve spent more time speaking prançais.”

“You’re also a mare. Maybe I should speak?”

“If he’s fluent in our language, I suppose. If either of us say something, we have to be consistent.”

“So if I were to say that we have a warehouse that we want to convert into a reconstruction out in Applewood....” Dusty began.

“I’d have to keep the same story if asked later. Or visa versa.”

The pair trotted along a cobblestone street side that approached the wealthier section of the city. A glittering fountain could be seen not far away, with several performing musicians playing music in the hopes that a kind soul would flip a bit or two in their upside down hat.

Daring and Dusty were after a pony by the name of Fatcat. He owned a penthouse not far from where they were, and Celestia seemed to think he’d be a good place to start looking for clues as to where the crown had ended up, if he hadn’t bought it himself. Fatcat was a very wealthy pony, and there was evidence that he bought antiques and artifacts, specifically royal ones, from various markets.

****

Daring and Dusty climbed up the many levels of wooden stairs up to the door to the penthouse atop number fifteen Rue du sabot. Daring knocked on the door first, and waited for somepony to open the door.

“Allo?” a quizzical voice asked, opening a slot so that his eyes could see out.

“Excusez-moi monsieur,” began Daring, adopting a roughness to her voice and forcing it down an octave, “est Monsieur Fatcat disponible?”

“Oui,” the pony on the other side said, “Qui est-ce?”

“Monsieur Daren et Daniel Wrong. Nous sommes des collectionneurs de vieilles choses.”

“Qui vous a dit de trouver Fatcat sur les antiquités?”

“Clients précédents,” Daring assured him.

“Ah, bon. J'aviserai Fatcat que vous souhaitez le voir.”

The panel slid shut, and Daring gave Dusty a smug look. Dusty raised his eyebrows, impressed.

“I understood most of that, I think,” he admitted, “I’m better with written Prench than spoken.”

“I just hope Fatcat speaks our language,” Daring said, “I don’t feel like doing all the talking. This voice is killing me.”

The door opened wide this time, and a very fat stallion stood in the doorway. Perhaps stood wasn’t the best word. Blocked was more like it. He had a pale bluish coat and a navy mane, and a cutie mark that was partially obscured by a travelling cloak.

“Je viens de rentrer. Vous vouliez me parler?”

“Yes,” Dusty blurted out. Daring shot him a glance, and Fatcat raised his porky eyebrows.

“Equestrian, honh?”

“Yes. You speak?”

“Oui, I do,” Fatcat said, “Come in then, oui?”

The two ponies entered through the door into a living room that could only be described as wealthy slovenliness. Empty cases of expensive alcohol were strewn across the floor, and there appeared to be a haphazard stash of crumpled bank notes and papers that were important, but regarded with little respect. Daring wrinkled her nose, smelling something harsh wafting through the hallway.

“The maid is cleaning the rug in the master bedroom with chemicals,” Fatcat explained. He motioned for the pair of them to sit down on a leather sofa.

“What brings you two here, honh?” the gluttonous stallion asked, “I was told you’re after some kind of valuables?”

“We’re collectors, brothers actually,” Dusty began before Daring could open her mouth, “We’ve got a place out in Applewood, full of old weapons and political things.”

“Political things?” Fatcat asked, stroking his tubby chin, “Like buttons and pins? You’re at the wrong place then, mes amis.”

“What he means is that we’re interested in things left over from old monarchs,” Daring said, “Like busts, jewelry, crowns, the like.”

Fatcat sat back, nodding slowly.

“Well, I suppose. Come, come, follow me.”

****

Daring felt uneasy. This was far too easy. Fatcat had up and agreed to show them his valuables without even attempting to verify their legitimacy. Either he was very stupid, or he knew who they were. And if he knew who they were, then he was already planning on a way to dispose of them. In her mind, Daring began mapping out escape routes from the upstairs of the penthouse.

“Zis ‘ere is a sword, believed to have belonged to General Thundercrash, a pegasus commander from two hundred years ago.”

They stood in a room lit only by the sunlight from windows overlooking a marketplace. On the wooden tables within the room were piles of items, from gold scepters to ruby-embedded robes and even a couple of tiaras. The platinum crown, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“Do you have headgear?” Dusty asked, uninterested by the sword.

“Like helmets?”

“I was thinking about crowns,” he said.

“Aha!” Fatcat said, wagging a hoof, “You are looking for royal crowns! I posses several in zis here collection, oui? But I am not positive on the origins, no no no!”

“I see tiaras,” Daring commented, “But those don’t really count. I mean to say, we’re not interested in tiaras.”

“I, uh... I have six of them already,” lied Dusty, “The wife back at home doesn’t want any more around the house.”

“Understandable,” said Fatcat, “You know how they can get, honh? Nothing can ever please them!”

Daring’s eye twitched.

“I do have some full-on crowns, however.”

“Excellent. Any sources?” Daring asked.

“Ah, non. You might find what you are after though? A particular type?”

He took out a canvas sack, and emptied four crowns onto the table. One was silver with emeralds. One was gold with reddish satin on the inside. Another was made out of crystal. None of them were the platinum crown.

“See anything you like, Ms. Do?”

Daring looked carefully at the crowns for a few moments before she realized what Fatcat had said. She heard him chortle and stagger back a few paces, his voice descending into a steady wheeze.

A gun clicked.

Daring sprang into action, grabbing a metal shield off from the table and holding it up just as one of Fatcat’s cronies shot at her, causing the bullet to lodge inside the shield.

She pushed the shield into the obese stallion, knocking him down to the floor along with his gun-wielding minion.

“Dusty, go!” she shouted, pushing her friend out the window and breaking the glass. She followed suit just as the gun-wielding pony was getting to his hooves, and was just out the window as the wall’s paint exploded in a puff of smoke.

Daring and Dusty fell out onto a shop’s awning, crashing into a pile of what had previously been fresh fruit. An incensed owner was yelling at them in a foreign language, while Fatcat was at the broken window, overlooking them.

“And STAY OUT!” he shouted, slamming the broken remnants of the window pane down.

“That was...” Daring began, wiping smashed fruit guts off from her disguise.

“Absolutely terrifying,” Dusty finished, “Daring, I am never accompanying you on another adventure, and that’s a promise. Somepony’s liable to get hurt.”

“At least we know he doesn’t have it,” she said, dodging out of the way as the cart’s owner tried to smash a chair over her head.

****

Daring and Dusty made their way back to the hotel that afternoon. Daring had ditched the fake mustache but had kept the black derby on her head so as to remain inconspicuous. They trotted up the cobblestone street to the entrance of the hotel, and entered.

“Ah, Dr. Daring Do and Dr. Dusty Shelves,” announced the clerk at the desk as they went for their room keys, “Somepony was here looking for you earlier. I gave them your room number, but they came back saying you were not there.”

“We’ve been in town,” Daring replied, somewhat suspicious. Who had come to see them? The only ponies who were supposed to know about this trip were the Princess and select members of the museum’s senior staff. Dusty seemed to share her concerns, as he began to look about in a flustered manner.

“Is something the matter?”

“Do you know who this pony was?” he asked?

“Mais non, they did not leave a name,” answered the clerk with a frown, “It was a middle-aged stallion I think. Unicorn, with a ruby colored coat. Wearing a gray hat. It rings a bell, oui?”

“No,” Daring said, shaking her head, “Thanks for letting us know, though.”

****

Dusty’s room was pristine and untouched. He sat down on the bed backwards, stretching his legs out and staring up at the ceiling. It was a very nice room, with replicas of paintings on the walls and pieces of fine furniture sitting on the far side. There was a door leading to a balcony that remained shut for the time being. The room had a neat and orderly appearance.

The afternoon sun was beginning to set outside, and through the windows came a brilliant reddish light. He decided he didn't much like the glare of the setting sun, and got up to close the blinds. It was then that he heard a rap on his wall.

“Dusty, get over here,” came Daring’s muffled voice from the other side of the wall. The older pony set his things down on his bedside and hung up his hat, going outside and over a room into Daring’s hotel room.

He was greeted with a totally different sight. Instead of neat and organized he found a scene that looked as if a tornado had torn through Daring’s room. The dresser and vanity were overturned. The luggage had been torn open and strewn about the room, leaving pickle shirts and old satchels and other gear scattered about.

“Did they take anything from you?” Daring asked, frantic. She opened a drawer and began rummaging through it, tossing articles of clothing about to dig through to the bottom.

“No...” Dusty began, looking at the total mess, “What’s all this?”

“I’ve been tearing this place apart looking for my journal, but I can’t find it anywhere! My journal’s gone, as is my grandpa’s bullwhip, and our return tickets.”

“The stallion who the clerk said came here.... he must’ve forced the door open and taken them!” Dusty said, “Daring, we have to track him down. Those tickets are our trip back to Equestria!”

“Forget Equestria, that journal has all the information and the little details of my different adventures since at least the late 20’s! Think of what that could do in the wrong hooves?”

“Allow them to write a biography?” Dusty shrugged. He didn’t see the importance.

“No!” scoffed Daring. She sat down and wrung her hooves through her mane. This was bad.

“That journal has information and bits of knowledge I’ve amassed about a number of artifacts I haven’t gotten around to searching for. I’ve got pencil-drawn maps in there, manuscript translations, potential locations of artifacts and historic sites of interest, and even layouts of where traps are likely to be in a few temple chambers,” Daring said, “The fact that it’s gone means not only that all of my time and effort compiling that information was wasted, it means that whoever took it has the ability to go and scoop up any of up to twenty five artifacts without getting their manes mussed.”

“And your grandpa's whip?”

“Well, it’s really only there as a backup in case I’ve lost the ability to use my wings. It’s happened before.”

Dusty sat himself down in a chair, only to stand up again and need to toss Daring’s pith helmet out from it and onto her bed. He looked about the room, hopelessly. He noticed something out of the corner of his eyes, however, and snapped to it.

“Daring, what’s that attached to the lamp?”

The gold-coated mare leaned in to look at it. Something had torn on the hooked edge of the lamp, which was mainly there for decoration. It looked greyish, and it was fuzzy. It had to be less than a centimeter long at most, but it was substantial enough for her to be able to scoop up.

“That’s hair, but not the hair of a pony,” she said. She brought the tiny tuft of material over to Dusty for him to examine.

“Yeouch, somepony tore off a piece of their hat’s felt. It must have gotten caught by the brim,” he said.

“Hat felt?”

“Yeah you know, rabbit, beaver, hare.”

“This is part of the robber’s hat?”

“Might be. It looks like he went and barbed it on that lamp by accident. Yikes.”

****

Daring approached the clerk dressed in her regular adventurer’s gear sans pith helmet. The sun had set by now, but the evening was warm and the night was young. Dusty traveled shortly behind her, holding the clump of hat material in his hooves.

“Sir,” Daring said to the clerk, “are you familiar with local businesses?”

“Ah, oui!” he replied enthusiastically. He used his magic to levitate a book as he flipped through it.

“I’m looking for a hatter who can replace part of the felt body,” she said.

“I must recommend Monsieur Castor. Finest Chapeaux in town!”

“Thank you, we’ll be on our way then.”

“Bonsoir!” the clerk called after them.

****

The hat shop was rather spacious, and contained shelves and shelves of felt bodies that sat open-crown, awaiting a head to claim them. An older pony sat behind a desk, measuring a customer’s head circumference above the skull and above the ears.

“Oh... bonjour,” said the older mare, “comment allez-vous?”

“Bien,” Dusty replied, “We’re travellers, and... well, I was wondering if you could help me identify where this felt came from.”

“I’ll be with you in one moment,” said the older pony as she finished the measurements. The pony whose head was being measured was given a size, and the mare told him to try a few different colors to his liking. She then turned her attention to the bit of fuzz in Dusty’s hooves.

“Rabbit and beaver blend,” she said without even touching it, and adjusted her glasses.

“How did you know that?” asked Daring, “You didn’t even pick it up?”

“Ah, but you see, a stallion came in here not fifteen minutes ago, wanting to drop his hat off and sell it for a fresh one,” she replied, “I told him it wasn’t necessary... the rip occurred in the brim, so I just trimmed it down to get rid of the tear.”

Daring blinked. She looked up at Dusty and raised her eyebrows.

“First try, too,” she remarked, impressed with their luck. She turned her attention back to the old hatter.

“Tell me... do you happen to know where this stallion was going?” Dusty asked.

“Loin, mes amis, loin. He was in a rush to catch his boat.”

“Thank you very much, Madame. Merci beaucoup.”

****

“Daring, I think this is a terrible idea,” Dusty said, “You’re bound to get yourself killed, and who wants that?”

Daring stood with her side up against the stone wall of a building adjacent to the pier. She had her father’s old sidearm tucked away inside the cargo pocket of her jacket. They had seen the pony in question helping to load crates onto the ship, which was bound for the country of Carpathia.

“Ahuizotl, for one, plus the entire Gryphon Archaeological Force.”

“So you’re going to just go up and demand your journal back?” Dusty asked.

“No, I’m going to physically pin him down and demand it back... I have to go Dusty, I’d get out of the way. This might get nasty.”

Dusty poked his head around the corner, and drew it back.

“They’ve got tommy guns slung over their withers.... good luck Daring.”

Hunting Down the Journal

Daring Do snuck around the edge of the docks, hiding behind a stack of wooden crates and lowering her pith helmet over her head. She would peek her snout out over the very edge of the crates and glance at the position of the pony with the hat, who had pilfered through her hotel room and taken some of her valuables, among her grandfather’s whip and her own personal journal.

The stallion paced the wooden pier, heading back onto the cement slab of ground and over to the edge of the adjacent building: a warehouse. Daring tried her luck, and silently followed, entering through a hole in the ill-repaired roof. The adventuress stood in the rafters of the warehouse, looking down to the dealing happening below.

The stallion and two other ponies were speaking with a Gryphon, dressed in a military uniform. She couldn’t hear the words exactly, so she inched herself closer until she could along the wooden boards.

“.... lots of profit from the Gryphon government. We’ve already established a presence, we just haven’t made it public yet.”

The wooden board cracked, and Daring felt a sinking feeling as she dropped down forcefully, landing on the back of the hat-wearing stallion and pinning him to the ground. He cried out in alarm, and the Gryphon was pegged with the broken piece of wood from the rafters.

With her plan on singling the pony out quietly foiled, Daring’s mind raced for a way to salvage her botched plan. As it was, she came up short, so she went with the first and most obvious thing that came to mind.

“What did you do with my things?!”

The stallion gagged under her weight, and she pressed a hoof down over his throat.

“Where are they?!” she exclaimed again, looking into his terror-struck eyes forcefully.

A gun clicked. Daring froze, moving her head up to look at the Gryphon and two armed ponies standing in a line, barrels trained on her. She slowly got off from the stallion’s chest.

Think, Daring

“Uhh... here, let me help you,” she said, holding out a hoof and helping the stallion to his legs. She scooped up his hat, which had crushed in on itself.

“You dropped this,” she said, holding the hat up. As the angry stallion reached for it, she shoved the hat into his face and punched through the crown, tearing the felt and slugging him in the face. She shoved the stallion into his armed friends just as they shot, causing their stream up bullets to spray skywards as the guns dropped in the confusion.

Daring ducked out of the way, over a stack of crates and out of sight. Immediately, the ponies with the guns began searching for her, leaping over the crates. When she wasn’t there, they ran after her down the rows of crates in the dimly lit warehouse.

She reached into her jacket pocket for her pistol, hearing the sound of hooves striking the concrete as the guards chased after her. Daring dived over a stack, and heard the sounds of gunfire over her head. A light fixture exploded in a shower of sparks.

Daring wheeled around the corner, firing two tightly aimed shots and knocking the armed ponies to the ground. She dashed around and up over their bodies as she heard an engine revving behind her. Somepony had gotten into a forklift!

The forklift was being driven by the red stallion, who wore his crushed and broken hat despite the damage. He barreled down the aisle of crates after the pony, who weaved out of the way to the left.

The forklift swerved to the left, striking a crate containing bags of flour and causing them to explode over both the forklift and Daring. She shook her mane and rubbed at her face, continuing to run towards the exit.

“Get the armed guards from the south side, GO GO GO!” somepony shouted. Daring exited the warehouse and out into the night air just in time to see a group of armed unicorns raising their guns in a magical glow. She dove over the edge of the wooden pier and into the ocean’s waters as the guns opened fire with an explosive sound, churning the surface of the water alive with a rattle of bullets.

“Can you see her?” somepony shouted,

“Negative, no visual.”

The water calmed for a moment, allowing chunks of flour and seawater to rise to the surface, stained red.

“We’ve got blood... we got her.”

“Get the boat ready to cast off, before the police arrive. We’ve got to put a lot of distance between the cargo and this place, and fast.”

****

The boat blew its whistle, heading out to sea. Dusty watched from the same position, sighing. Daring still hadn’t come back, and he had heard quite a lot of weapons fire. He didn’t want to assume the worst, but...

There she was! At that moment a very soggy pony was pulled out of the seawater on a long chain. The metal anchor splashed out of the briny waves, and there was Daring Do hanging onto the chain while standing on the top of the anchor, clutching at her wing. She looked towards Dusty and raised her free hoof in a saluting motion, grinning through gritted teeth. She shimmied up the rest of the length of the chain, reaching the edge of the ship and leaping up onto the side.

****

Daring tore a piece of cloth from one of the lifeboat covers off, and wrapped it around her wing. Hours had passed since her departure from the Prench harbor, and it was now the middle of the night. She had been shot in the wing as she tried to escape into the water, and though she had removed the bullet, she wanted to bandage the extremity to prevent herself from instinctively using it and risk tearing the wound open again.

The night was cool, and as Daring left her safe hiding spot from inside of the lifeboat she could see the watchpony sitting in a chair on the stern deck. She was drinking a bottle of wine and reading in the light of a lantern.

Daring silently moved towards the bow end of the ship.

If I were holding onto somepony else’s valuables, where would I keep them? she thought to herself. Probably not the cargo bay. Daring felt that the safest place for something high-profile like the journal would have to be as close to herself as possible.

I’ll have to check the Captain’s quarters.

****

The door opened rather easily, and without a great deal of noise. Daring closed the great metal door behind herself, and struck a match, holding the wooden end between her teeth.

In the low orange light of the match’s flame, she scanned the cabin quickly. The captain himself was not present, and as such his bunk was empty. Daring peered in at the table upon which much of the captain’s personal effects were kept. There was a picture frame of himself, a swarthy Gryphon in black uniform, and his white-feathered wife. There was a mish-mash of papers on the table, an armband, and a map that was still spread open and marked up.

Beneath the table was a box, and sure enough, Daring could see the handle of the whip sticking out over the edge. She bent in to snatch it up, but was forced to spit out the match as the flame burned too low. As she reached for another out of her shirt pocket, she heard a noise. The door was opening.

Captain Gottlieb was dog tired. He had been down partying with the crew, and perhaps drank too much Prench wine. It had really gone to his head now, as he was stumbling about and seeing double. He staggered over to his bed and sat down on it, feeling something uncomfortable beneath it. He ignored it as a stiff mattress and tried to readjust.

When that didn’t work, he stood himself up, stumbling over to the table and igniting an oil lamp.

“I...hic....I need to count sheep or read... hic....that’s it.”

The captain took the first book he saw, which coincidentally happened to be Daring’s journal. From below the bed, Daring watched with a sense of horror as the overweight drunk Gryphon began rifling through her pages, reading some of them aloud in a drunken stupor.

“Feburry twenny sis,” he read, “1927. I journ... uh... journeyed out to the tip ....of the cape this morning an’ found that the temmle had been disturbed in the night,”

The invisibility veil! Daring recalled.

“I... hic... I ennerred the temple anyways and discovered that... hic... that the ponies who had come during the night had ac.... ac...ivated the traps, making my entry more hassirdus by the prolif... whatever... metal spikes.”

The captain tossed the book aside, and sat down.

“What a load of garbage..... hic... If I were exploring... I... hic.. I wouldn’t go somewhere where there’s spikes...”

He continued to sputter incoherent language for a few minutes before his head rolled back and he started to snore, allowing Daring the opportunity to make her exit, her items in tow.

****

Daring snapped the metal container over her journal, hoping that it would keep the pages dry. She hurled herself up and over the edge of the railing, keeping her legs as straight as possible to keep her splash quiet as she sank beneath the waves.

It was morning. The ship sat in the harbor of one of Carpathia’s seaside communities, and the agitated searching for the journal had told Daring that she needed to make her exit. From underneath the dark waves, Daring swam over to a different dock, dodging tangles of seaweed. From there she dragged herself out of the water and onto the wooden dock, avoiding the gaze of anypony who might have seen her.

On the boat, the Captain was furious. Not only had he woken up to a tremendous headache, but he also had lost the archaeologist’s journal from right beneath his beak. He had determined that it was unlikely that any crewmember had taken it, as only he was to have know of it’s existence onboard. The pony must have gotten onboard and gotten ahold of the journal.

With a harsh squawking quality to his voice the Captain barked orders to his crewmembers. He described the pony Daring Do: a dark yellow pegasus with a dark mane and a pith helmet. The crew turned the entire ship inside-out. No Daring.

She had gone into the town, thought the Captain, We’ll make sure she can’t leave.

Running Down Streets

Daring wrung out her shirt, watching the water drip from the wet fabric. She stood aside an old, abandoned fishing shack in a sorry state of repair. She thought to sneak inside and stay low until the ship had left the harbor, but a quick push on the door told her that the shack was locked.

Tossing the shirt and her helmet into her equally-soaked bag, Daring decided to attempt to draw as little attention as possible and try to locate a safe place to hide for the time being. She set out in the direction of the town’s road.

Carpathia was a small country set between a mountain range and the sea, and populated by mostly ponies, though some Gryphons also shared the populace. They tended to live at higher elevations closer to the mountains. Daring was currently in some seaside village, which made most of its money by catching the fish that would then be sold to the Gryphons, who did not live by the sea yet desired fresh fish. It was one of the few examples of a community made up of Equines who fished for a living. Farther inland were large fields of corn, a vegetable native to Equestria that had spread to new continents through trade.

The town itself was actually rather large, and filled with an array of shops and restaurants. One such building served as a combination of a club and a bed and breakfast. There were pool tables and a piano set downstairs, while upstairs were rooms available for nightly rent.

Daring approached the manager, a spindly mare with spectacles who was currently polishing glasses at a bar.

“Name?”

“Dari- er, Daren Wrong.”

“Daren Wrong? That sounds like a stallion’s name,” said the pony with a disapproving glance.

“It was my parent’s choice... they were expecting a son, and they kept the name. Not much I can do about it now,” lied Daring. She heard something drop upstairs, and the mare behind the bar visibly winced.

“Let me check if we have a room available, Miss Wrong,” she said, “Don’t get into the drinks while I’m gone, I’ll be able to tell if you did.”

“The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind,” admitted Daring truthfully. She sat herself down on an overstuffed sofa and waited for the mare to come back, idly flipping through the pages of a magazine placed on the coffee table. There was an article featured in one of them that was dedicated to the bidding for the International Games, like the Equestria Games but on a global scale. It was a big deal, and the games were to be held the following summer. The magazine declared “Gryphons Win Games Bid!”, with a black and white photograph of the Gryphon Emperor on the cover, standing at a podium in front of a massive crowd to make the announcement.

The mare came back down the stairs, motioning for Daring to follow. Daring met the pony at the bottom, and was handed a key.

“First door on the left, Ms. Do.”

Daring thanked her, and headed up the stairs. The first door on the left was painted red, and emblazoned with “No. 1” in black paint. Room one... she must have been the first customer. The fact that the manager had called her by her actual name did not sink in until Daring was already through the door, and face-to-face with the barrel of a pistol.

Another pony shut the door behind her, while the pony holding the gun grinned at her.

“I suggest you give the items you stole from our boat back to us, Dr. Do,” he said. Daring scoffed.

“Stole? They were mine in the first place.”

The pony pulled the trigger, but instead of going off, the gun only clicked. Daring smirked, only to be hit in the head with the weapon as if it were a club.

She fell to the floor, only to strike with her hooves at the legs of the unloaded gun toting pony, kicking them out from beneath him and causing him to fall. The other grabbed a wooden chair and attempted to smash it over her head, but Daring bucked backwards, catching him in the chest and causing the chair to drop onto his head.

In the moments she had, Daring ran across the small bedroom and smashed her way through the window, ignoring the painful cuts from broken bits of glass and landing in a heap on the ground, right on top of a small orange pony.

“Yeeouch, watch it lady!” cried the pony, who was a filly wearing some kind of newspony cap. Daring groaned. When the larger pony did not get up immediately, the little thief looked around to make sure nopony was watching, reached into Daring’s bag, and pulled out her wallet and journal.

“Hey!” Daring yelled, springing to her legs. The filly had darted away down the alley, taking a left. From the window, one of the two stallions produced an automatic rifle, and began firing down at the adventuress. Daring ducked down and took off, hearing bullets strike the bricks of the building on the other side of the alley in rapid succession. She rounded the corner, following the sprinting filly thief.

They ran through the city streets at breakneck pace. Daring could hear yelling and gunfire behind her, but she persisted. She could see the orange filly ahead, ducking and weaving through the crowd to escape. A sofa was being moved across the cobblestone street, and Daring was forced to leap up and over it, just as a shot rang out from the ponies pursuing her, tearing a chunk out of the mattress much to the owner’s fury.

Daring saw the filly round a corner, and she took the turn herself, coming to a dead end. the filly was trapped between Daring and a solid brick wall, and had her back up against it, panting and wide-eyed with terror.

“Alright, I give! Take your stupid stuff, just don’t shoot me!” she wailed, tossing the journal and Daring’s wallet back.

“I wasn’t shooting- it was the ponies chasing me!” Daring said quickly and hurriedly, “Kid, you know these streets, where can I hide?”

The filly cocked her head to one side. In the space of a few seconds she had gone from being chased and convinced she was about to be shot to being asked to help this adult pony. It wasn’t everyday she was asked for help.

“Ahhermm.... uh.... here,” she said, moving over to a bulkhead. She took a small tool out from under her cap, and fit it into the lock, snapping it open.

“Get inside.”

Daring and the filly scrambled down the stairs of the bulkhead quickly, swinging the doors closed above their heads. The filly shut the latch.

Outside, the stallions who had been chasing Daring down poked their noses around the corner into the alley.

“There’s no way out down here, she must’ve gone down a different side street,” said the other, “let’s go down there before she gives us the slip.”

They moved off down the cobblestone street, leaving the alley and the bulkhead behind.

****

“So where are we?” Daring asked quietly.

“Somepony’s house,” said the filly, listening, “I don’t hear anything upstairs, they must not be home. We can hide out here for a bit, lay low.”

They were inside a basement, which was dusty and dark. Cobwebs lined the supports and dirt covered the floors, but Daring was able to find a lantern that had a bit of fuel left inside of it on top of somepony’s woodworking bench. She lit it, allowing her to see the filly. She made sure that she made no threatening gestures, as she felt she might need the help of the kid.

The filly was young, and covered in scuffs and smudges. She had an unkempt quality, and Daring had a suspicion that she was a vagrant, and orphan turned out on the streets and forced to live as a thief to get by. She was short and scrappy, and had a blackish mane to match her orange coat. In the lantern’s light Daring could see that the filly had amber eyes, and wore a dirtied newspony cap over her shock of unwashed hair.

“Who are you?” the filly asked, wiping a trail of blood from her nose with the edge of her leg.

“Dr. Daring Do,” Daring said honestly, “I’m a professor in Canterlot, and an archaeologist.”

“What’s that?” the kid asked, sitting back on a wooden bench. She seemed a little more relaxed than before.

“An archaeologist?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Daring said, “That means I study history, ancient civilizations.”

“Huh?”

“Really, really old stuff.”

The filly smirked. She picked up a knife from the woodworking table, and began idly carving her name in the wooden bench.

“What’s your name?” Daring asked. The filly shrugged, not looking up from her masterpiece.

“Oh come on, I told you mine,” Daring said, “You’ve got to be square, right?”

“It sounds stupid,” the filly said, “after my parents... well, when I took to the streets a few years back, I stopped using my real name. I’ve forgotten what it was.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Daring offered, “What are you called?”

“Scootaround,” she replied, “Because I can scoot out of just about any sticky situation. They’re never gonna catch me.”

“How old are you, Scootaround?”

“Why should I tell you? Gonna write a book?”

“I’m only making conversation while we wait,” Daring scoffed, “If we’re going to be stuck together, we should at least be honest and open. I’m thirty four years old this September, currently thirty three.”

“You’re old. I’m only nine.”

Daring raised an eyebrow at that. Only nine years old, and being an experienced thief?

“Kid, er- Scootaround, why are you a thief? I mean, why did you want to take my stuff?” Daring asked, “I ask because I need your help. You seem to know this place like the back of your hoof. I’m a pony in a pickle.... those ponies, and a bunch more out there... they want to hunt me down.”

“Why?”

“Well, they broke into my room and stole my stuff. I think it’s got something to do with the item I’m supposed to be chasing down, they probably want to get me off their trail as well as taking all of my notes. Now they’re trying to find me because I killed some of their henchponies in a gunfight.”

“Wow,” whistled Scootaround. She seemed to be opening up, as she had put the knife down and listened to Daring a little more intently.

“I was around six or seven when my parents were... uh... they’re dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You don’t gotta be sorry, it’s not your fault,” Scootaround said.

“No, I mean I’m sorry that you had to go through that,” Daring replied, “It must be really hard to take such a loss at such a young age.”

“Tell me about it. Yeah, with nopony to take care of me, I figured I gotta take care of myself, you know? I’ve been stuck in this shitty place ever since, dyin’ to get out.”

“What language!”

“Eh, bite me,” Scootaround said, “I don’t have to listen to you. But look, I have a hideout that I can take you to if you promise not to rat me out, you hear?”

“I promise with Celestia as my witness.”

Scootaround’s ears perked up.

“Wait... say that again....” the filly said.

“I promise with Celestia as my witness,” repeated Daring. Scootaround smacked a hoof off the ground.

“You’re from Equestria! Y’know, the big place across the pond! Land o’ harmony, and all that jazz?”

“You could say that,” Daring nodded.

Scootaround peered about furtively, and grinned. She was hatching some kind of scheme.

“You want my help, right?” Scootaround asked. Daring nodded.

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal. If I help you shake these bozos and get whatever the thing is that you’re after, you have to take me back with you.”

“Are you kidding?” Daring said, rearing her head back, “There’s no way I can....”

“You want my help, or not?” Scootaround said with a raise of her brow.

“Alright,” Daring said after a brief pause to think, “but on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I’m the big pony, and you’ve got to listen to me. If you want me to take you back to Equestria, you’ve got to prove to me that you’re gonna change. No being a potty mouth, no stealing, and when we get back to Equestria you’re sticking with me.”

“No way!” Scootaround jeered, “I’m not your kid!”

“Alright, I guess you can stay here then. I’m sure I can get by without your help, anyways.”

Scootaround opened her mouth, and shut it again. She sighed.

“FFffffine, you win.”

Gryphons

Daring awoke inside of a wooden shack, the same one she had seen earlier. It was Scootaround’s little hide-away, and they had moved to the shack later the previous evening once night had fallen. Now that morning had arrived, the pair of ponies had to decide on what to do next.

“I looked outside, and the boat from yesterday is gone,” Scootaround said. She brought back with her a loaf of bread, which she broke for the adult pony. Daring sat up, looking back at her sternly.

“Where’d you get that?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” the filly replied, taking a large bite out of her half of the loaf.

“Kid, you can’t be stealing things if you want to go to Equestria, that was part of the deal.”

Scootaround was silent. Daring dug into the loaf. She was a tad hungry. They needed to find a way to get back to Prance, where Dusty was likely still hanging around, waiting for word from Daring. To do that, they’d need to hire somepony to take them back by boat, or by air.

“Kid, does this village have balloon flight?” Daring asked.

“No. No balloons,” the filly replied, “We have boats, and carts.”

“Boats will have to do,” Daring said, “C’mon kid, gather up what you need, we’re getting out of here.”

****

Daring and Scootaround approached the dockmaster. The filly trotted along behind Daring, trying to keep a low profile and out of sight of some of the ponies who she was probably wanted by.

“I need a boat to Prance,” Daring said to the dockmaster, “Are there any passenger ships headed in that direction?”

“I’ll check,” the stallion replied. He flipped through a clipboard loaded with tally sheets and schedules until he found what he was looking for.

“There’s a boat leaving at five this afternoon.”

“Two tickets, please,” Daring said, exchanging currency. Scootaround watched the gold bits fall from Daring’s hooves with widened eyes. It was probably more money than she had seen in years.

“We’ll have to wait for a few hours,” Daring commented, “I’m not sure what....”

She heard a click, and paused. Slowly turning, she stared into the point of yet another revolver, in the claws of a Gryphon.

“Come with me, Daring Do,” said the Gryphon, motioning to a wooden cart standing on the side of the cobblestone road.

“Not this again,” she said with a sigh.

“I would suggest you come without a fight,” replied the Gryphon. Daring growled at him.

“Don’t you boys have anything better to do?”

A second Gryphon appeared, toting a shotgun. Daring had no choice but to surrender to the armed Gryphons. She made eye contact briefly with Scootaround before she was forcibly shoved into the back of the cart, and bound to the rail.

The large Gryphon ignored the filly completely, and once Daring was subdued the cart took off down the cobblestone street. Scootaround was left in the dust.

The filly thought about what had just happened for a moment. She had been so close to getting out of Carpathia, only to have the pony who was willing to take her in get snatched up right in front of her. She wasn’t willing to let go so easily. After all, she reasoned, what had she left to lose here?

The filly trotted along behind the cart, keeping her distance but watching its path.

****

Scootaround followed the cart as it left the edge of the village and headed out into the countryside. For hours she pursued the cart, hiding in roadside gullies along a dirt path through wide open fields.

Day turned into afternoon, and flat meadows turned into hills and valleys. Scootaround’s progress was hampered by the terrain, and the filly was forced to stop periodically for water from a nearby stream or brook.

As the cart approached a great mountain at twilight, Scootaround was able to figure out where it was going. In the mountains were Gryphon villages and Gryphon-inhabited towns, but this particular mountain was home to a great stone castle, visible from even this distance. In the purplish hue of the sunset’s wane, the filly could tell by pinpricks of light on the battlement walls in the distance that somepony (or Gryphon) was home.

Why would they be taking Daring Do to an old dusty castle?

****

Daring sat tied to a chair in the center of a room, facing a blank stone wall. She was within the castle, but she knew not exactly where. She had been blindfolded up to this point, and now that she could see, she was presented with nothing save for a dusty, cracked stone wall.

“Daring Do,” a sharp male voice said from somewhere behind her, “We meet again.”

Daring felt a chill when she heard the voice. She knew that voice! It belonged to a Gryphon whom she had thought dead at least three years ago.

“Gwindor!”

“Very good, Daring,” he replied, spinning her around to face him. The Gryphon had an eyepatch over his left eye, and parts of his face were visibly scarred. Daring was both horrified and surprised that he was alive, as she had truly believed him to have been eaten alive by piranhas after the Zenith expedition. The ravenous fish had left their mark on the Gryphon, as his missing eye and bite-scarred face attested to.

Gwindor wore the uniform and the rank of an officer, an officer in the military of the Gryphon Empire. Now that Daring was turned around, she could see a bit more of the room she was being held in, which also included a window, a wooden table, and red banners with the Gryphon Empire’s militant colors on the side walls.

“What’s with the patriotism?” she murmured, brows furrowed. Daring was determined not to give Gwindor whatever he needed to wrest from her. She assumed that she had something of value to the Gryphons; they had kept her alive so far.

“This castle belongs to the Empire, Daring,” assured Gwindor. He placed a claw over the back of Daring’s chair, and tipped it back so that he could peer into her eyes. She shifted her gaze again to avoid his.

“You might be wondering why you’re here,” Gwindor continued, setting the chair down.

“It crossed my mind once or twice,” Daring said coldly.

“It was a mistake to come looking for the Crown. Of course, it wasn’t just Fatcat. Anypony who might have had a hoof in dealing with the crown was already reporting to us.”

“He told you we came looking?”

“Yes,” said Gwindor, “It’s a chain. You escape Ahuizotl, he sells the crown and warns that you’ll come after it, we set up this trap. Linear.”

Daring said nothing. The scarred Gryphon took a seat opposite her, opening up her journal to a page he had saved with one of many bookmarks.

“Your entry from November of 1933 describes the journey you took into Old Equestria,” he began, “It is really quite fascinating. Nightmare Moon’s temple is described as being ‘home to an ancient and powerful magic that could threaten the safety of the entire world if released’.”

“That is correct,” Daring said, avoiding eye contact by staring at the leg of a table, “I originally detailed more specifics, but those particular pages would be dangerous in the wrong hooves, and are in a secure location.”

“You lie,” Gwindor said with a beaky grin. He grasped Daring’s face by the cheeks, forcing her face to look up at his. Daring tugged, but his grip held fast.

“What I need is right in here,” he said, pointing between Daring’s eyes, “And I want you to tell me.”

Daring struggled under the grip on the side of her face. She couldn’t speak or hardly breathe, but she managed to sputter out a few choice words.

“Get... your dirty claws.... off my face!”

Gwindor released her from his vice-like grip, and turned away sharply.

“We have ways to coax the information out, but it’s not very pleasant. I’ll give you another chance, Daring. What is contained in the temple of Nightmare Moon?”

Daring remained silent. The Gryphon leaned in next to her face, looking her over with his good eye.

“What is in the temple? This is your last chance, Daring.”

Daring looked up at him, widening her eyes and smiling falsely.

“You wanna know what’s in the temple of Nightmare Moon? Go there yourself and find out. It’s just a swell time, believe me.”

Gwindor slammed a clawed fist into the side of Daring’s head, rocking her sideways and knocking the chair to the ground. She winced as her injured wing was forcibly hit by the floorboards.

“You’re going to regret that, Daring,” Gwindor said, moving towards the door, “Enjoy the next half hour. You’ll be sorry when the time runs out.”

He flipped an hourglass over and placed it on the floor next to Daring, and then left, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it.

****

Scootaround has made it up to one of the upper branches of a tall larch tree, which nearly overlooked the castle walls enough for her to be able to make it inside. She looked out over, down into the courtyard of the castle, and gulped.

It was a long way down.

The filly inched out further and further along the branch, trying to get as far out as she could. She could hear the wood creak and she could feel the branch bending lower.

With a resounding crack, the wood split and Scootaround began to fall. She was seconds away from crashing into the soil within the old courtyard when she began flapping her tiny pegasus wings with all her might. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t avoid the inevitable faceplant in the dirt.

She shook herself off, spitting out dirt from inside her mouth. She was inside the outermost walls of the castle, and there was nopony in sight. Most of the lights in the windows were dark save for the one she had seen earlier.

Climbing through an empty stone arch in a wall acting as a window, Scootaround made her way into a corridor inside the castle walls. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all made out of stone, and there was an occasional torch to provide light to see one’s self.

Ahead in the shadows was a pair of armed Gryphons, standing at attention at either end of a door. Scootaround slowed her hoofsteps, keeping as far out of the light as possible and hiding in the shadows.

In the distance, and large Gryphon swooped down a flight of stairs and into the chamber behind the armed guards. He has a flustered manner, setting his cap down on a tabletop and wiping his feathered brow with a kerchief.

“Gibbs, Godfrey,” he muttered, returning his cap and facing the guards.

“Sir!” they squawked.

“Come and help me move the guillotine into position in the courtyard.”

The two Gryphons left their post, following the leader into another place, presumably to go and get the guillotine.

Whatever that is, thought Scootaround. As she heard a door close, she proceeded through the door slowly, peering into the unguarded chamber. The overhead was brightly lit by a light fixture, and a glass case on the far side contained a platinum crown. On the opposite side were bright red banners, the banners of Imperial Gryphony.

Why were those banners in a castle in Carpathia?

The filly darted up the stairs, which were in a spiral formation leading up into the tower of the castle. She had to be quick about this should the Gryphons come back soon.

****

Daring Do had knocked the hourglass over in her struggle to free herself from the chair she had been tied to. She had broken a wooden leg off and had to bite through part of the rope confining her hind legs, but she had wriggled free from the ropes and now stood next to the doorway. She heard echoing steps coming up the stairs, and hid herself adjacent to the door to be able to get the jump on Gwindor as soon as he re-entered.

There was a pause, and Daring heard the metal tinkling of keys entering the lock. She braced herself for the pounce. As the door swung open, she leaped and landed on the figure entering the room, pinning them to the ground. Daring raised a hoof, ready to bash the Gryphon’s ugly beaked face in.

“Dr. Do! It’s me!” choked the little orange filly. Daring stopped herself and froze.

Scootaround!

She got off the filly’s chest and allowed her to stand up, rumpling her mane and laughing awkwardly.

“Sorry about that... I thought you were one of them.”

The filly scooped the metal lockpick she kept and placed it back inside the brim of her cap, placing both back atop her head.

“They’re going to move something right now,” she said, “Now may be the only chance you’ve got to get out of here.”

“What are they moving?” asked Daring, looking past the filly and down the stairs.

“A guillotine, whatever that is.”

****

The two ponies made it down into the same room that the Gryphon guards had been guarding before. Daring made her way over to one of the side tables, which held her bag, journal, and pith helmet.

Scootaround stuck her head quietly around the corner, looking out through a window inside an adjacent corridor and seeing out into the courtyard. There stood a tall wooden structure fixed with a thick blade at the top, but there were no Gryphons to be seen.

“I think they already set that thing up,” she said, “We better go now.”

Daring turned to leave, but was surprised when she came face-to-face with a glass case containing a large platinum crown. Princess Platinum’s crown! Her mouth dropped open in surprise.

I can’t leave this here, she thought, I have to take it with me.

The steps of hind paws and front claws on stone echoed through the corridor as the Gryphons approached. Daring’s eyes widened as she realized that they were trapped. She frantically searched the room for a place to hide, shoving Scootaround underneath a desk and opening up a cabinet on the ground floor. There was a box inside, so Daring moved it out and did her best to make it look inconspicuous before stuffing herself inside the low cabinet and closing the door.

“We’re going to need a full report to send back to the Emperor when this is all said and done,” echoed Gwindor’s voice. Daring could hear them now as they entered the room. She could hear papers rustling on the desk Scootaround was hidden beneath.

“Gibbs, Godfrey, return to your stations,” he ordered, “Grizelda, take a letter.”

“Yes sir, standing by,” replied a female voice.

Gwindor leaned himself up against a set of cabinets, taking his cap off and fiddling with it in his claws as he wracked his brains for the best lead-in for his letter to the Emperor. With this, he would be catapulted back to the forefront of success, and he wanted the communique to reflect that.

“I am pleased to announce the... no, wait.... It is with great pleasure that I announce the sound defeat of.... a longtime rival... no, scratch that.”

He paused for a moment, clicking his clawed fingers.

“....a longtime enemy of the state! That’s it!”

The door burst open, and a spry young soldier entered, saluting and handing an envelope to GWindor.

“Telegram, sir!”

“Can’t you see I’m busy dictating?” Gwindor snapped.

“It’s from the Emperor himself!” replied the soldier, “He wants to know if you have found the equine.”

“I will send a reply in due time,” Gwindor grumbled. He had lost track of what he was saying.

“Grizelda, read that back to me.”

“I... sorry, I thought you were just collecting your thoughts. I didn’t start writing yet.”

Gwindor’s face burned with anger as he gritted his beak and allowed his eye to twitch. He was known for a hair-trigger temper normally, but general incompetence drove him absolutely mad.

“You idiot,” he muttered, “I ought to bash your face in right now! As it is, I have more important matters. Save the telegram for later, we’ve got a job to do. All of you, out in the courtyard, NOW!”

“Yes sir!” squawked the ensemble of several Gryphon officers, shuffling out as quick as possible to give their enraged superior as far a distance as possible.

****

Daring lowered the filly down over the edge of the wall and down outside the castle, dropping down herself a moment later. She had taken the crown out of the case and stored it inside her pith helmet. It wasn’t a very honorable place, but it was safer than a canvas bag.

“We need to put as much distance between us and them as possible, and fast,” Daring said, pointing in the direction of the forest.

She and Scootaround fled through the woods in the darkness of the night, not stopping for hours as they zig-zagged and made odd direction changes to throw any pursuers off. The moon rose, illuminating the woods and allowing a low level of light for Daring and the filly to see by.

Daring considered what the Gryphons were doing now. In her mind’s eye she envisioned the tantrum Gwindor would have thrown after discovering that she was not there; that she had escaped. The loss of the platinum crown would only serve to compound the issue, catapulting her to a top-tier target for not only Gwindor, but the entire Gryphon army. It was a bit terrifying to think about, but it motivated the ponies to keep moving.

Sometime after midnight, Daring decided that she and the filly would need to rest for a few hours before the morning arrived, so they crouched beneath the roots of an old twisted tree and went to sleep.

Mechanical Beast

Daring half expected there to be a gun aimed at her when she awoke, but in the dim light she could see no sign that the Gryphons had been anywhere near them. Instead, she was greeted by the tranquil ambience of birds in the treetops and a steady patter of rain.

“Kid, get up,” she said, “We’ve got to get a move on.”

Scootaround rolled over, sluggishly finding her cap and stretching herself awake.

“D’you think they’re gone?”

“Gone from the woods?” Daring said, “Yes. But I bet you anything they’re waiting for us back in town.”

They got out from under the tree, shaking off and stretching their legs.

“If we go East to the Hoofiet border, I can find safe passage back to Prance,” Daring said, “The Hoofiets aren’t very agreeable with Equestrians, but it’s the best chance we have.”

The pair walked along in the rain, their hooves sloshing in the mud. Daring herself didn’t much like the fact that they were leaving tracks in the mud, as it would make it easier to track them should their trail be caught up.

“Doctor?” whispered Scootaround.

“It’s Daring, kid.”

“No, Dr. Do is your name,” insisted the filly, “I don’t call anypony by their short name, if they have one.”

Daring decided not to argue with her. It made no sense why a little vagrant off the streets would stick to formal names, but perhaps it was something cultural. Perhaps her parents had taught her one way, and not even years on the streets could shake the habit.

“So what were you going to ask?”

“What’s up with your wing?”

Daring glanced back at her injured wing, which was bound with strips of bandage that were now dirtied and worn down.

“I was shot,” she whispered, “I don’t really want to go into it.”

“Can you fly at all?”

“I could,” Daring said after a brief pause, “But it would hurt. I don’t want to if I don’t have to.”

****

At about midday, the pair of ponies rested on a rocky outcrop. A storm was brewing just on the edge of the clouds, threatening to come their way in a bluster of thunder and lightning. The wind was already starting to pick up quite a bit.

“Dr. Do, I’m hungry,” said the Filly. She had not eaten anything since the previous morning. Daring herself could feel the pangs of an empty stomach, and she could feel the drain on her energy as she worked without fuel. They needed some lunch.

Around the outcrop were trees, which did not seem to be fruit-bearers of any sort. Being June, it was far too early to seek out any types of wild Apple trees. The pair of ponies searched around in their area for some time, looking through shrubs and up through the branches of possible candidates. One was finally found that yielded greenish fruit, which were slightly immature but were more than edible. The nimble filly climbed up the trunk of the tree and shook the branches while Daring kicked at the trunk, knocking a few of the greenish fruit down.

“I think they’re pears,” Daring said, taking a bite out of one of them. The two gathered up as many as they could, storing the extra pears inside Daring’s bag while they continued on their eastward journey.

****

Upon coming to the edge of a shallow river, Daring got an idea. Despite the drizzle of rain and the distant roar of thunder, she decided that they would be better off following the river’s path for a bit, to hinder any following Gryphons who might pick up their trail through the muck.

Daring and the filly waded for a ways through the meandering waters, keeping shallow enough so as not to risk getting swept away in the quickening current.

Not long after beginning to follow the river, Daring happened upon a small shack by the riverside. Upon the bank was perched a canoe, which had not been put away by its owners before the storm. Due to the rain, the wooden craft was half filled with water.

“Lend me a hoof, help me dump this out,” said Daring, and together the two ponies tipped the boat on it’s side, allowing it to drain. Daring searched around, climbing the hill to see somepony’s cottage and backyard. Leaning against a woodshed were three paddles, which she stole.

Thievery was sometimes warranted.

As the pair of ponies entered the canoe and pushed off from the shore, it occurred to Daring what a bad example she was setting. After all, she had been trying to impress upon Scootaround that stealing was wrong, yet she had taken somepony’s boat.

The afternoon wore on, and the wind and rain picked up. The pace of the water quickened, propelling the two ponies down the river quite easily. The paddles were more useful for steering and avoiding a crash or sharp rocks than pushing them forward.

As the pair of ponies came to a village on the seashore, Daring decided that they would be better off continuing on hoof. After all, travelling by sea during a thunderstorm was a bad idea.

The pair came ashore behind a great stone building, dragging the boat into the bushes and flipping it on it’s side. The wind had picked up greatly, and thunder crashed. A torrent of rain drops splashed against the wet ground, mixing with the dirt to form pockets of water-filled mud.

“Scootaround, listen,” started Daring as the two trotted on through the sloshing muck, “I’m not sure if we’re in Carpathia still, or if we made it all the way to the Hoofiet Union. If something bad happens, hide yourself away immediately. You got that?”

“Uhuh.”

The village square was unusually empty for so early in the evening, though the dark skies and turbulent storm provided plenty of excuse to stay indoors. Daring made her way across the dirt street to what appeared to be a post office of some kind, hoping to find out where she was.

“Wait out here,” she instructed the filly, leaving her standing outside the building. The filly leaned herself up against the stone wall, watching the rain fall from the roof and splatter against puddles.

From inside came the sounds of excited yelling, followed by a series of gunshots. There was a clang, a small explosion, and then a trail of smoke began to pour out from the entrance. Scootaround stood up straight, alert and startled.

“Get out of here, kid!” came a muffled yell belonging to Daring, “Run!”

Scootaround took off running just as an engine began to roar to life behind her. The filly didn’t look back as she dashed away towards the wharf.

****

Daring Do stood outside the flaming inferno of the building as the rain slowly began to put the fire out. A drop of a soldier’s lantern combined with the rupturing gas had created an explosion, destroying the building entirely.

The Gryphons were here, and they knew she was, too. Daring didn’t have anywhere to run other than into the woods in the thick of the driving thunderstorm. She made her way toward the edge of the village, making her way towards an old cobblestone path leading into the trees.

The thunder rumbled, but there was another sound rumbling through the forest, one that made Daring pause. It was mechanical, and she could hear the sounds of limbs breaking off trees, of earth and dirt being crushed underneath something quite heavy.

With a thunderous roar, the skies were lit up as the humongous Gryphon war machine fired at Daring. She bolted out of the way, back toward the village. The shell exploded where she had been just moments before, leaving a smoking crater.

Lightning struck, illuminating the form of the tank clear as day for just a split second. It was bulky, armored, and squarish. The symbol of a screaming Gryphon could be seen painted onto the side of the metal beast.

She would have to force herself to fly if she was going to outsmart this thing, no matter how much it pained her.

In a moment's time, Daring had flown up to the rooftop. She looked over the soaked roofs of the village. She noticed that Gwindor was looking right at her from the turret of the tank, shouting commands to his Gryphons. She had his attention.

As the tank's turret turned to face her, Daring charged in the direction that it was turning from at full speed. She reached the end of the roof she was on, and leaped over to another roof in the direction she was running. A crash of lightning illuminated her silhouette for a brief moment in time.

A bellowing sound cracked through the sound of hooves striking wet cement. A high-pitched whizzing tore past Daring. The tank round had missed behind her. The tank made adjustments, now trying to get a lead on her. Lightning crashed again, and she thought she could see a small orange shape sprinting across the village, towards the docks. Scootaround was getting out ok.

Daring winced as she took to the air, pushing off the slippery rooftop with a kick of her back hooves. Her sudden vertical change made the next artillery round miss again. The tank was thundering down the street again, turret adjusting even more as Daring continued to fly a pained course through the air. Daring heard the bellowing sound of another round firing, and this time she backed up suddenly, watching the shell narrowly pass in front of her face at high speeds as a forked lightning bolt struck the lightning rod of a nearby building.

She knew that she couldn't dodge them forever.

Daring took a dive, speeding towards the mud and landing on all four hooves with a splash. She tore off down the street, passing right in front of the tank. Since it's guns were still pointed towards the skies, they had no chance to fire at her. Daring circled around behind the machine, placing herself in it's blind spot. Hurriedly, Daring kicked at a loose rock, which was medium sized . It came out of the mud with her efforts, and she placed it into her pith helmet.

The tank was turning around, and Daring ran in the opposite direction on the ground level. She crossed it's sights for an instant, and once again the tank fired too late to hit her. The shell exploded upon striking the cobblestone, leaving a sizable crater smoking in the middle of the street. Daring knew it would take around five seconds for the Gryphons to reload, so she swooped up to where she was right in front of the main cannon.

Hurriedly, she dumped the rock out of her pith helmet and into an open hoof. She proceeded to ram the hoof down the barrel of the cannon, plugging it with the rock. As soon as she had done so, Daring took to the skies again, flying in a big arc over the top of the Gryphon tank, and landing on top of one of the buildings. The tank turned about in the middle of the street, it's turret raising to catch her position.

Daring leaped into action once again, bolting across the rooftop while glancing back at the tank. She could see the turret adjusting to track her, and when it had a slight lead she heard the sound of it's cannon firing.

Instead of launching an artillery round, the barrel of the cannon expanded in the middle and ruptured, sending pieces of broken metal flying as a plume of smoke poured out of the hole. Daring disappeared behind the building she was on, landing on crisp green grass. She could hear the sound of Gryphons wheezing and coughing, and Gwindor barking hurried commands.

Knowing that the damaged battle tank would occupy the soldiers for a minute or two, Daring began running towards the docks of the village at a quick gallop. Her mane and clothes were covered in grimy dirt, rain water, and sweat.

****

"Daring Do!" shouted an older stallion, dressed in a fancy jacket and shaking her hoof cordially as she approached the docks. Daring’s mouth dropped wide open. Dusty!

"I must say, you look absolutely horrible."

"No time to talk!" Daring panted, still panting from having escaped the Gryphons. She knew that they would still be after her, and they did not have a lot of time; they had to get out on the river immediately. The Carpathian border ended to the north where the river emptied into the sea.

"Yes, the vessel is primed and ready to leave whenever you are ready to depart, Dr. Do," said the pony, still unaware of how serious things were. Daring bounded into the boat, leaping from the wooden planks of the dock onto the carpeted deck.

The boat was relatively small, about the size of a fishing vessel, but was outfitted with a cabin with space to sit. Scootaround was already inside. As the other pony untied the rope holding the ship to the dock, Daring Do embraced the filly in a strong hug.

"Thank goodness you're alright," said Daring, releasing Scootaround from the hug and tipping her hat up. She was still in disbelief that Dusty of all ponies had now come to her rescue.

Starting the boat's engine was easy- all Daring had to do was give a great tug on the cord, and the engine roared to life. It sputtered for a second, but then the rumbling sound of it turning over became steady and much stronger. Before they could get the boat underway, the other pony rushed into the cabin, looking flustered.

"What's the matter?" asked Daring, eyebrows furrowed.

"There's a gryphon soldier here, m'am," the stallion answered, adjusting the wire-frame glasses that had dropped on his snout. "He insists on looking over the boat for a couple of escapees."

"Go tell him he can check it if he wants, but we have a schedule to keep," Daring said, standing up quickly. The stallion stepped outside of the cabin.

Daring motioned for Scootaround to stand up against the wall of the cabin, and she complied. Daring herself got against the wall on another side, near the door. As soon as she was in position, the door swung open again, and a tall gryphon barged in.

The gryphon peered about the cabin, and his eyes darted to Scootaround first. He took a step forward, and in that instant Daring delivered a swift kick to his neck, dropping him instantly with a sick crunch.

The gryphon fell down onto the planked floor of the cabin, helmet bouncing off of his feather-covered head. Daring was quick to grab him by the scruff of the neck with her teeth, and drag him back out the door of the cabin.

Thunder crashed as the Gryphon was thrown overboard into the water.

****

"Where are we headed?" asked Scootaround, standing up on her back hooves to see the dark, expansive ocean ahead of the ship as she grasped the rails. The storm was lightening up, and the sky was a dark navy blue.

"Well, we need to put as much space between us and the gryphons as possible. We're out of their jurisdiction if we can get to the ocean," said Daring, biting her lower lip. She was exhausted, and worried about Gwindor. She knew he wouldn’t give up very easily, and she doubted even her own words.

"Actually," Dusty Shelves remarked, "If what Dr. Daring Do has told me is true, and the Gryphons are allied with Carpathia and allowed to run military operations within their border, then we will need more than just a little space between us and the mainland. Considering that both shores of the river might as well be hostile..."

"We'll be fine," Daring said, "Here, Scootaround, come down into the cabin with me. I'll teach you to play some card games. You ever played with playing cards before?"

"A bit." said Scootaround. "I would play against my dad at night. We'd bet with beans and seeds."

The kid bounded down into the cabin, but Daring remained behind with Dusty for a moment.

“I have the crown, Dusty.”

“That’s... fantastic,” he said in earnest, “Daring... what’s going on? Who’s this kid? What’s wrong with the Gryphons?”

“Back in ‘30,” began Daring, “This Gryphon by the name of Gwindor oversaw an operation that sought to steal the progress of the Zenith dig away from the pony crew. During a fight, he got knocked over into the river, and the piranhas got him.... By Celestia how I hate piranhas. They’re just as bad as snakes, I swear....”

“Daring,”

“Right. Anyways, he managed to survive, and he got involved with some secret deal to get ahold of the Crown. Old Fatcat tipped him off, and so.... I don’t know how, but my journal gets involved in this somehow. They want to reopen the Temple of Nightmare moon, and finish some of the quests I’ve not finished yet. I’m thinking he was planning on killing me off this whole time.”

“And the kid?”

“An orphan off the street. I think I’m the first pony who’s shown her kindness since her parents died. She’s got some bad habits, but I made her a promise to bring her back.”

“As long as you have the crown in tow,” Dusty said, “I don’t really care. Let’s get out of here tonight.”

****

Dusty Shelves took over the wheel, and Daring broke open a box of crackers for the three of them to snack on. Dusty returned to steering shortly thereafter, and Daring was left with Scootaround in the cabin, lying on the floor and trying to go to sleep.

"Dr. Do?" Scootaround asked, after sitting in dark silence for a few minutes. Daring lifted her pith helmet up from above her face, and looked over to where Scootaround's voice was coming from.

"What's up?"

"I was just wondering, what's gonna happen to me when we get to Equestria?"

"Well," said Daring, "Before we can get to Equestria we're gonna stop in Shetland. It's a nation that's allied with Equestria, and we need the rest. When we're all rested up and ready to cross the Anterlic Ocean, we'll probably do it by plane. They're big flying machines that take you farther than what most pegasus can fly, and faster. Then, I guess we'll have to figure out what to do with you."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, there's several options. There's boarding schools, orphanages, and adoption. I'm not sure it's entirely my choice what happens, but I know you'll be well taken care of."

"Dr. Do?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have any kids?"

"No, Scootaround. I don't."

"Okay."

There was a couple moments of silence, and then Scootaround spoke again.

"Good night, Dr. Do."

"Goodnight Scootaround. Try to get some good rest."

Beneath the Waves

"Dr. Do! Dr. Do get up! Quickly!"

Daring groggily sat upright, rubbing her eyes with her hooves.

"We there already?" Daring asked, stretching and yawning wide.

"Dr. Do, We made it to the ocean, but there's a Gryphon submarine following us!"

Once she said that, Daring bolted to her feet, grabbing her pith helmet and throwing it over her head. Scootaround was wearing her acquired gryphon war helmet rather than her newspony hat, and had a serious look on her face.

Daring stormed out of the cabin, into bright sunlight. The first thing she noticed was the expanse of the saltwater ocean ahead of her. She looked behind and saw the thin green line of the mainland far in the distance behind them, and a gargantuan steel ship rising from the depths. Daring quickly ascended the steps to where Dusty was, still steering the ship.

"How recently did they appear?" said Daring.

"Just a moment ago," Dusty said, "I sent Scootaround in to get you up. What do we do now, Daring? This is much beyond the patrol craft I thought they'd send. This is a full-blown submarine!"

"I saw that."

She bit her lower lip. Outrunning them wasn't much of an option. They had torpedoes on that ship, and she was sure that Gwindor was not afraid to use them if they tried to run. While she was trying to think of something to do, the submarine pulled up alongside of their small vessel.

"ATTENTION DARING DO AND SUPPORTERS. SURRENDER AT ONCE. WE WILL BE LANDING TROOPS MOMENTARILY, DO NOT RETALIATE OR WE WILL DESTROY YOU AND YOUR SHIP. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED."

Immediately, a number of gryphons landed on the deck of the small boat, guns at the ready. Dusty Shelves, Daring Do and Scootaround raised their hooves into the air, and a moment later Gwindor himself landed on the deck of the boat, decked out in full uniform.

"So, Dr. Daring Do, we meet again,” Gwindor said, "You seem to have an... annoying habit of not only running away, but wreaking havoc on our property.” He brandished a document before Daring with a very official look to it.

"I have here in my talons an order from none other than the Emperor of Gryphony himself. Your sabotage actions and spying will not be tolerated any longer, Dr. Do. In fact, he has requested you three to appear for a hearing on the charges of theft, sabotage, vandalism, and assault. Not to mention the murder of Colonel Gratzer and several Gryphon officers aboard the..."

"He did that to himself!" shouted Daring, glaring at the Gryphon standing before her, "He's the one who summoned the spirit of Starswirl the Bearded, not me! Theft? I only reclaimed artifacts from that castle that belongs to Equestria. It's rightfully ours!"

"Tell it to the jury. I hear they're very upset with you. Turns out that Gratzer was an admired hero of the Great War. I imagine being charged with his murder rests heavy on your conscience, doesn't it?"

"I told you- he did that to himself!"

"I've had enough of pointless bickering. Grigory, take these three on board and lock them in the brig."

****

As Daring Do looked towards the other wall, she couldn't help but feel a sense of defeat. The cells in the brig of this submarine were cramped, and all three of them had to squeeze close together. The bars on the side of the cell kept them contained as the submarine dove underneath the current. They had been sitting in complete silence, listening to nothing but the distant chugging of the engines. Scootaround had been allowed to keep wearing her helmet, which was odd since it was indeed a gryphon's war helmet. The silence was broken by Scootaround.

"What's the plan, Dr. Do?" Scootaround asked, looking eagerly towards Daring.

"What do you mean, kid?" Daring said, still staring at the blank sheet of metal that was the opposite wall. "What plan?"

"Your next big escape!"

Daring sighed, and pulled her pith helmet over her face. She didn't really feel like talking to anypony at the moment.

"What's the matter Daring? Come on, we can do it! Remember how we got out of that castle?"

"That was different, kid,” Daring said, in a low tone. She still didn't take her gaze off of the metal wall.

"I dunno.... I just can't think of a way this time. No way out."

"Face it, kid," said Dusty Shelves, "We're finished."

Scootaround looked hurt hearing this, and hung her head. She even went so far as to pull off the helmet and hold it in her hooves upside down.

"Scootaround... I just want to say that I'm sorry," Daring said, "I'm sorry that you got dragged into this. You would've been better off on the streets then getting involved in all of this."

Scootaround's gaze dropped. She considered dropping her head face-first into the helmet she held in her hooves, but as she looked down into it to do so, she stopped. She blinked a couple of times, clearing away the built up tears.

"You know what, Dr. Do? You're wrong.”

"I beg your pardon?" replied Daring, still not looking back.

"I said you're wrong. You said that I'd be better off on the streets. For what, a life of crime? Robbing ponies? No, what you've given me is a chance. A chance to be somepony. You made me see that even if something looks bad, it doesn't have to stay that way- that there's a way out of every bind, no matter how hopeless things seem. You think things are hopeless right now? Well I'm about to prove you wrong again."

With that, Scootaround turned her helmet upside-down, and a small piece of twisted metal fell out onto the floor of the cell. Scootaround picked it up with her teeth, and placed her helmet onto the ground.

Daring turned her head, finally, and her jaw dropped as she saw what Scootaround was doing. She was halfway through the bars of the cell, her flank end being just a tad wider than the bars. Daring stood up, and leaned against the back of Scootaround, who was forced through the bars all the way.

Once out of the cell, Scootaround took her device and got to work on the lock. This time, she had to adjust it three times before it finally slid into place with a click, and she turned her head to the left.

"The lockpick! Oh, I had forgotten about that completely!" Daring said, her frown turning into a big grin.

The lock clicked off, and with a tug on the weighted end, it fell onto the floor outside. Daring couldn't believe what had just happened, it seemed like a miracle. As the door swung open, she saw Scootaround standing there with a smug look on her face.

"Kid...." started Daring, in a state of awe, "Don't ever let me try to convince you that something is impossible. You go right on being the awesome little filly you are, you hear?"

"Okie Dokie Dr. Do!"

"You're all crazy ponies, that's what you are," muttered Dusty Shelves, fixing his glasses. "We don't even have what we came for!"

"And to think you two were ready to just give up," Scootaround said, with another grin on her face. She looked up onto the wall, where a platinum crown hung by a peg.

"We're in business."

****

As the three ponies walked down the cramped hallway, Daring Do knew that going out the main hatch wasn't an option. All of them were on the lookout for some kind of emergency escape hatch. Scootaround had closed the door and hitched the lock back, making it less obvious that they were escaping. The key to them being able to pull this off was to get out without the Gryphons noticing.

Daring Do was at the head of the group, and she was surprised to see a Gryphon standing just around the first corner. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw the three, but Daring slammed her hoof into his gut, causing the Gryphon to double over as she brought an uppercut to the beak, knocking him down to the floor with little fuss.

The three escapees stepped over the form of the Gryphon, and into another empty room. This had several chambers, and seemed to be the divider between the brig and the engineering section. Daring didn't want to go into the engine room, as she knew there were other Gryphons in there, and-

"Dr. Do! Look!" Scootaround excitedly pointed. Daring looked to see a release valve embossed with the word "ESCAPE"

"Bingo," said Daring, reaching up and twisting it to the left. Immediately the hatch was flung open, and water began rushing into the compartment. Daring pulled her pith helmet tightly down over her head, and mounted the ladder.

"Alright, take deep breath everypony, last one out close the hatch!"

With that, Daring pulled herself up the ladder, through the torrent of water rushing in and up onto the deck of the submarine. Immediately she began kicking hard with her back hooves. Scootaround came right up behind her, and Dusty Shelves last, closing the hatch and securing it from the outside. Daring pointed upwards towards the surface of the water, and Scootaround nodded. She began kicking hard too, moving closer and closer to the surface. Daring prodded her along, looking back to make sure that Dusty Shelves was alright.

Dusty's eyes bulged halfway out, as a guard from within the submarine began to pull him back inside.

Daring kicked her hooves hard, reaching the hatch before the gryphons could slam it shut and coming in with the torrent of water, back into the half-flooded compartment. In the confusion, she could see the guard holding Dusty and attempting to wrangle the stallion over to the prison block. She dove under the rising level of water, grabbing the legs out from under the guard and giving Dusty a break for it. The stallion made his way out through the hatch.

The guard choked on water, and rose up, striking Daring and slamming her against the wall, into a pipe. Daring winced as her barely-healing wing was beaten.

She slammed her weight against him, but the burly-armed guard had her in a tight headlock, trying to twist her neck. Daring bit down hard in his army muscle, causing the guard to cry out. She used the moment of surprise to kick the guard as hard as she could.

Right between the legs.

The guard shrieked, and fell down beneath the rising water.

Daring took one last breath of air, and dove out through the hatch, slamming it shut behind her.

Scootaround was the first to break the surface, the Daring, and then Dusty. Dusty sputtered and choked, and was trying to tread water frantically. It seemed that he was not a very strong swimmer.

"Easy there, don't tire yourself out treading water,” Daring said, spitting out a mouthful of seawater. "We've got to get to some kind of land mass so we can get the heck out of here."

"You call this archaeology?" Dusty Shelves sputtered, "This is lunacy!"

"Sure does beat the last run-in with the Gryphons, that's for sure, though I'm glad that part's over. They know we escaped, so we should make tracks ASAP. As I see it, we're... all...."

Her words faded and one could see her complexion pale as Daring looked in the direction they needed to travel. Scootaround looked over and saw it too. Dusty Shelves, who had lost his glasses, was unaware of what was happening.

"What's going on? Dr. Daring, what is it you two see?" Dusty asked, an edge of concern in his voice. As soon as he had finished his sentence, he too saw the fin.

A triangular dorsal fin sliced through the blue water in a straight line. It seemed drawn towards something, three ponies treading water quite a ways offshore.

The fin rose from the depths, and began moving closer and closer to the group of ponies. Soon, though, it slid back beneath the surface of the water. All three ponies looked about themselves, trying to see where the fin would come up again, but it didn't.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

She had heard stories of horrific things that sharks had done to swimming creatures, and ponies were no exception. Granted, as a terrestrial being they weren't as high up on their preferred foods list, but she didn't know how picky this particular shark-

Suddenly, Daring felt a great pressure clamp down on her tail. She yelped out loud, moments before she was violently jerked under the water, much to the horror of the other ponies. Daring began thrashing, fighting to get free of the shark's grasp. She managed to thrust her head above the water long enough to take a big gasp of air, but was once again dragged down into the depths by the tail.

Daring Do squirmed around, trying to see the shark that had her. She felt as if the follicles of her tail were being ripped right out, and it hurt. Daring looked up, seeing the forms of Scootaround and Dusty Shelves growing smaller and smaller against the lit backdrop, and around her the water grew darker and darker, and it had a chill to it where the sun had not warmed yet.

Daring twisted around to try and see between her legs where the form of the shark was. She could see a gargantuan greyish blob, and where her tail had been were gnawing serrated teeth. Daring kicked hard with her back hoof, striking the shark on the snout, and it shook it's head angrily. This motion brought Daring twisting around in a very uncomfortable way, and she felt a searing pain. She tried to struggle against the power that held her, and surprisingly she found herself free. She twisted around to see the shark trying to get rid of half a ripped-out tail stuck in it's jaws. Seeing her, it rushed forward, jaws outstretched. Daring could see her attacker, though, and she punched hard with her front hooves, jabbing the beast in one of it's eyes. The shark reeled back, and seemed to question whether it should try charging again. It seemed to make up it's mind, however, and turned itself around and fled into the abyss.

Now that she was free of the Shark's grasp, Daring Do kicked again, propelling herself upwards. She had spent a lot of energy trying to break free of the shark, and she could feel the lack of fresh air getting to her. Her head pounded with pain, and her pulse quickened. She was aware of one thing she needed to do- and that was to get oxygen. Fast.

With a valiant struggle, Daring pushed herself onwards and upwards. The water wasn't so cold closer to the top. The divider between the air and the water was much closer now. With a final push, Daring's head broke the surface, and she inhaled deeply. Perhaps a little too deeply, as her headache worsened. However, she was out of the danger of drowning. Daring took a couple of seconds to take deep breaths and allow her heart to slow down, before looking around her. She could see Scootaround and Dusty Shelves cheering several meters away, and she took large strokes to bring herself closer to them.

"I hate sharks," sputtered Daring, "Now let's get to land before the guys on the sub decide to come after us again."

EPILOGUE

Daring Do strolled through the halls of the museum. She was wearing a white button-up shirt with a red bowtie, a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, and had her mane tied up in the back. She was standing in front of a display board, which contained the crown she had secured on her recent trip to Carpathia.

Daring Do actually led two lives. She was a professor at the University of Canterlot, with her subject field being Archaeology. Since she had a doctorate in that field, she put her extensive knowledge to use training the next generation of young ponies. She was also a correspondent for the museum- which happened to be the largest and most expansive museum in the Equestria, quite possibly the entire hemisphere. Since she had quite a reputation with the museum's staff for her correspondent work (which consisted of various adventures the reader should be familiar with) her afternoon class often would take field trips to the museum, and Daring would speak about several iconic pieces.

"Does anypony recognize the crown in this display case? Anypony? Yes- you in the back," said Daring, calling on a student who raised her hoof.

"Isn't it the crown of that unicorn princess from the Hearth's Warming pageant?" she answered.

"Correct, what you are looking at, fillies and gentlecolts, is the actual Crown of Princess Platinum herself. Anypony willing to hazard a guess as to when and where this was found?" Another pony raised his hoof, and Daring pointed towards him.

"In an old attic stashed away? That's how they found some of the Earth Pony regalia from that time period." answered the colt.

"Not quite." said Daring, "Actually, this item was found only a few weeks ago, in one of the mountain villages of Carpathia. It was actually inside of an old castle that had been re purposed by Gryphony. I suppose a few of you might have seen it on the news? Now, is anypony willing to guess how such an old artifact tied in with our nation's history ended up across the sea on another continent?"

As the teaching carried on, a young orange filly stepped into the hall that held the artifacts from pre-Equestria. She stuck her head around the corner, and saw that Dr. Do was busy talking to her class, so she decided to poke around and wait for her in her office.

Scootaround was enjoying life in Equestria. She had more rights than she did in Carpathia, and the ponies were indeed much friendlier. There had been talk of sending her to an orphanage when the courts were deciding what to do with her, but Dr. Do had stepped in and volunteered to take care of her, rather than shipping her off to an orphanage.

Daring Do was not only Scootaround's guardian, but a mentor to her as well. Ponies who Scootaround had talked to (especially the adult ones) had told her that there was no better role model for a young filly such as herself than Dr. Daring Do.

Scootaround had just gotten out of her classes. She didn't take general education with the other Equestrian ponies, and was instead being taught by a private tutor. The goal behind this was to get her up to speed with the culture and get her up to the grade level she should have been at by this age. It was indeed working, she felt she had learned more in the past two weeks than she had in years prior.

The orange filly stepped into Daring's office, looking it over. Daring's pith helmet sat on the desk, which was cluttered with trinkets and scraps of paper. A map of the world was pinned up against the wall with several tacks, and had pencil marks scribbled onto it, tracing over routes and circling possible areas of interest. Scootaround looked up and saw a photograph of her and Daring getting off the plane in Equestria, which Daring had stuck to the wall above her wooden desk.

On the coat rack were several jackets and hats. There was a thicker black jacket that looked like it was for winter use, several khaki colored ones and a few variants with a pickle-colored tinge. An old helmet was hung over one of the hooks, and looked like it hadn't been worn in some time. It had a shallow circular crown with a wide brim around the edge, a leather liner, and a leather chinstrap. Scootaround also noticed several vests, four matching boots, and a well-used bullwhip lying around the base of the coat rack.

Scootaround turned her attention to Daring's desk. She knew that Daring's classes that travelled to the museum would dismiss from there, and that when they did Daring would return to her office to pick up Scootaround. It was a mundane habit that had formed and that Scootaround had gotten used to by now. She sat herself down in Daring's chair, and pulled a book out of the sack she had been carrying from her tutor. She leafed through it with one hoof, until she got to the page she had been reading, but then she stopped. She lifted up her book to see what was on the desk underneath. There were two crisp forms made out with official lettering and signatures. Two tickets to South Equestria.