CHAPTER FIVE: SWEET APPLE ACRES

“Well howdy, Twilight! Come on inside, it looks like the sky is about to open up.”

Applejack smiled as she held open the door to let her friend into the house. Twilight, her coat slightly damp, ducked in to escape the coming downpour. Then, to Applejack’s surprise, a unicorn stallion followed her inside.

Applejack had never seen the stallion before. He was on the larger side, almost as big as Big Mac, with a white coat and a short-cut, grey-blue mane. His cutie mark was a castle tower ringed with crenulations. Stranger still, he wore a light set of armor, similar to that of the Royal Guard, covering just his back and neck.

“Yeah, I saw the weather team putting the finishing touches on the storm as I got to the gate," Twilight continued, as if it was normal for this hulking stallion to be following her. "Hi, Applejack!” The two friends shared a brief hug.

Applejack broke away and turned to the newcomer. “So, uh... who’s this fella here?”

“Oh! Applejack, this is Bastion, my bodyguard.” Twilight gestured between her and the stallion. “Bastion? Applejack, one of my best friends.”

Bodyguard? What the hay is that about? Despite her puzzlement, Applejack stuck out a hoof in greeting, and Bastion gave it a shake. “Pleased to meet’cha!”

“It is always a privilege to meet one of the Bearers of Harmony,” the stallion said in a smooth tenor, with just a hint of a Canterlot accent. He released her hoof, and Applejack showed the two guests into her home. With all the suddenness that came from pegasus-made storms, the light patter of rain on the tin roof became a constant, murmuring din.

As they reached the living room, Twilight spoke again. “So, how’s it going, Applejack?”

“Everythin’s just fine and dandy. Ah’m just glad we finished with the fields earlier this afternoon. Big Mac must’ve read the weather report wrong. He said we weren’t gonna get any rain ‘till the end of the week.” She laughed. “Shucks, where are my manners? Sit on down, y’all. Can I get ya anythin’ to drink, sugarcube?”

“Oh, I’ll have a mug of cider, if you still have any.” Twilight’s said, grinning.

Applejack grumbled. “Ah do, but don’t you dare tell Rainbow Dash. As far as she’s concerned, Ah ran out months ago.”

She liked to keep a barrel or two to enjoy for herself, which could last through the spring if she rationed it. Unless, of course, her friends drank it all, which was why Rainbow didn’t get invited inside very much. She filled three mugs from a tap and brought them back into the main room, balanced precariously on her back. Twilight’s horn glowed magenta, and one of the mugs rose and travelled across the room.

“Wait,” Bastion commanded, and with a sudden swiftness, a blue miasma had displaced Twilight’s grip on the mug, causing her to blink in surprise and then glare at the stallion. Bastion said nothing, but the glow from his magic pulsed brighter, and a cheerful tone emanated from the mug.

“It’s clean, Your Highness.”

Twilight took back the mug. Applejack looked over at Bastion with an inquiring glance. “Will you be wantin’ one of your own?”

“Oh, sorry, I can’t drink on-duty,” he said. He hadn’t even sat down, preferring to stand next to Twilight. Something about the stallion put Applejack on edge. He didn’t relax—in fact, it looked like he was expecting a timberwolf to come jumping through the window any minute.

“Don’t worry, it’s not hard cider,” Twilight said, and the stallion acquiesced and caught a mug in his magic as well.

Twilight took a long draught of the spicy drink. She sat there for a moment, appraising the taste.

“Mmm. The preservation enchantment still seems to be working. It still tastes like it did on the first day of cider season!”

“It sure as sugar does!” Applejack agreed. “Thanks again for doin’ that. Not a single barrel spoiled during the winter. Apple Bloom even looked at the numbers—we sold a fourth again as many barrels this year as we did last year!”

“That’s great to hear, Applejack. I’m glad I could help.” She took another sip of cider. “Say, speaking of Apple Bloom, where is everyone else?”

“Oh, Apple Bloom is staying the night with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo over at Rarity’s place, and Big Mac was over in the barn finishing up some work. Granny’s probably sleeping... somewhere, Ah guess.” The farm pony relaxed into the couch. “It feels good to be able to take a load off from time to time.”

“I wouldn’t mind it myself.” Twilight said. “These past few days have been a little bit... hectic, what with everything going on in Canterlot.”

Applejack finished off her mug, then chastised herself for drinking it so fast. “Shoot, I heard about that in the papers, all over the front page. Somethin’ ‘bout a fire at Canterlot Castle?.”

Twilight glanced critically at Bastion, and he gave a small nod in return. “Yeah, there was a fire in the library tower, but it wasn’t an accident. I expect it’ll be in the papers tomorrow, but Princess Celestia is almost certain that it was Gryphon sabotage.”

“Sabotage?”

“The perpetrator attacked the archives and destroyed the prototype spell matrix. Oh, and probably stole the blueprints. That, and the fact that the Gryphon Hegemony suddenly cut off negotiations with Equestria and is now massing troops on the border brings it above the level of coincidence.” Twilight said, matter-of-factly, as if she were telling Applejack that Spike had slept in that morning, not that her prized project had been destroyed, and because of it, Equestria was hovering on the brink of war.

“In the name of all things oats ‘n apples!” The farmer said, as close as she would come to cursing. “So is that why you’ve got this bodyguard now?”

“‘Just a precaution’, Princess Celestia says. If worse comes to worst and they do attack, Celestia wants to make sure that I’m properly protected. And that means having Bastion here tailing me closer than my shadow. My ‘Personal Guard and Head of Security’.” Twilight nickered and patted the unicorn on the back. “No offense, Bastion, but I don’t need a bodyguard.”

Bastion shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s out of the question, Your Highness.” He cleared his throat and recited:

“I am solemnly and sincerely sworn to protect the Princess Twilight Sparkle from any and all harm, and to serve her faithfully and honestly to my dying breath, and to obey her every lawful order to the utmost of my ability, lest I be struck down by the Royal Sisters themselves.”

“Goll-y!” Applejack exclaimed. That oath of fealty sounded like something out of windigo times.

“And I suppose that part about following my every order doesn’t include ordering you to hoof it all the way back to Canterlot?”

Bastion gave her a thin smile. “I believe that would fall under the category of ‘unlawful’, Your Highness.”

“And testing all of my food for poison?”

“Never was a thief caught by an unlocked door, Your Highness.”

“Augh!” Twilight groaned. “And that’s another thing! It took me weeks to convince everypony that it was still fine to call me ‘Twilight’; all of these ‘Your Highness’es are going to drive me crazy!”

Applejack broke in. “Well, did you tell Princess Celestia that you didn’t want a bodyguard?”

“I did, but it was no use. I tried to argue the point, but you know how stubborn the princess can get sometimes.”

Applejack smiled. “Ah’ve known a few princesses that can be a might stubborn from time to time.”

Twilight looked nonplussed. “I don’t need a glorified foalsitter!” She smacked her hoof on the floor for emphasis, something that reminded Applejack a lot of a young Apple Bloom throwing one of her temper tantrums.

“Sugarcube, have you given any thought to the idea that havin’ a bodyguard may not be just for your own good?”

Twilight cocked her head and set her mug on the table. “Huh?”

“If what you’re saying is true about the Gryphons wantin’ war, then Equestria’s gonna be in for some... interestin’ times. Unlike anythin’ we’ve ever seen before, ‘cept maybe Discord or Nightmare Moon.” Applejack shivered. “Ah know that Ah’ll sleep a little sounder knowin’ that you’re gonna be safe, Twi, and maybe that’s what the Princess is countin’ on as well.” She swept her Stetson off of her head and held it up to her chest. “Like it or not, you’re the only bit of royalty that Ponyville’s got, and maybe just seeing that you’re safe will make all of us feel a little safer as well. Just a little reminder that Princess Celestia’s lookin’ out for us.”

The rain was the only sound in the room as Twilight sat there for a minute, trying to digest what Applejack had said. Applejack wondered if she really knew how much she meant to them. Not just to her, Pinkie, Rarity, Rainbow, and Fluttershy, but to everypony in Ponyville. As much as Twilight tried to pretend otherwise, she was a Princess now, and a Princess had duties as well as privileges. Not just responsibilities like holding court or passing laws, but the duty to be there for everypony, and, Applejack shied away from the idea even in her thoughts, the duty to keep herself safe if... well, if anything bad happened.

“Sorry, Twi. Ah didn’t mean to run my mouth.”

Twilight sighed. “No, Applejack, it’s fine. Bastion here would probably tell me the same thing.”

Bastion wore a smug expression on his face. “I actually wanted to have a full platoon of guards for your escort, Your Highness, but Princess Celestia thought that would cause too much disruption for a small town like Ponyville. But I still could have a full complement of guards here on three hours’ notice.”

“Well, it’s not the worst possible thing. At least Celestia said that we could continue our research here in Ponyville. I could have ended up stuck in Canterlot if she had really wanted. That’s actually why I stopped by to see you, Applejack.”

“Beg pardon?” Applejack’s ears perked up.

“Well,” Twilight smiled, “right now Austenite is tearing through the basement lab of the library, trying to scrape together any material he can find to re-complete the plans for the prototype we had built, but if this project is going to get serious, we can’t keep working out of my basement. A tree in the middle of town is a little too much of a fire hazard for my tastes. And I could finally get Spike to clean down there again.”

“Ah’m sure he’ll be thrilled about that.”

The alicorn laughed. “Anyway, I’m looking for a place where we can work and not risk the entire town if it goes up in flames.” She made a face at her unfortunate choice of words. “Again. So I was wondering if Sweet Apple Acres had any land that you can’t find a use for. Celestia is giving me a budget now, so you and the Apple family would be properly compensated the value of the land...”

Applejack looked at her friend. “Y’all want to buy land from Sweet Apple Acres?”

Twilight nodded. “Well, yeah. All we would need is five or six hectares, and it doesn’t need to be any particular land, so long as it’s mostly flat. I’m prepared to pay you at or above market value.”

“Well, Ah’ve got no problems with selling you some land, sugarcube, but I should probably talk it over with Big Mac and Granny Smith first. Aw, shucks, and probably Apple Bloom, too. She’s gettin’ to be around the age when she’s gotta start pullin’ her weight on the farm, so she’s got to have a stake in it, too.” Applejack tapped her chin thoughtfully. “What are you planning on doing with the land, anyway?”

“Well...” Twilight summoned up a checklist ten hooflengths long. “We’ll need laboratory space, storage space, a machine shop, a drafting room...”

“Heavens to betsey, Twilight,” Applejack exclaimed, “are you plannin’ on buildin’ a whole ‘nother town out there? What you’re talkin’ ‘bout is a lot of construction work.”

“I know,” Twilight groaned. “I don’t want to think of what it’s going to take to actually get this research going again.”

“Why, you’ll probably need a couple of buildings bigger than the barn!” Applejack snorted. “You’re gonna run into problems when you try to cover that much area—in fact, you’d probably need a dual-pitch or a parallel chord structure just to hold up such a big roof...”

“Well, you’ve got experience building barns, Applejack. Would you be willing to help us build a new laboratory?” Twilight asked. Her eyes widened for a moment. “In fact, how would you like to work with us on the spell matrix?”

Applejack laughed nervously. “No can do, Sugarcube. Ah’d really love to help you out, but you know I’ve got my hooves full workin’ the farm.”

“Come on, Applejack!” Twilight chided. “You’d be perfect for the job! Work like this would be right up your alley!”

“Thanks, but no thanks, Twilight,” Applejack said.

“Applejack, tell me this. How many times have you built and re-built your barn?”

“Ah don’t really keep track of things like that, Twi. I don’t know, four times?”

“It’s been five times, just since I’ve been in Ponyville,” Twilight smirked.

“So what? Ah like to make sure that Sweet Apple Acres is good and taken care of.”

“So what!? Applejack, you love doing things like this!” Twilight crossed her hooves. “Applejack, you spend hours tinkering with your cider press. Your idea of a good time at your family reunion, the one thing that would redeem it, was construction and manual labor!”

Applejack’s cheeks burned a deep shade of crimson. “Well, Ah... So maybe it does sound fun. But Ah still got my responsibilities to Sweet Apple Acres! Ah can’t just leave all the work to Big Mac—”

“Who said anything about abandoning anypony?” Twilight asked. “All I ask is that you help out for a few hours a day—that would leave plenty of time for the farm. And you’d be paid, of course,” Twilight giggled.

“How much?” Applejack asked.

“Oh,” Twilight thought out loud, “how does two hundred bits a month sound?”

Applejack’s head rocked back and she whistled appreciatively. Two hundred bits was a fair portion of what Sweet Apple Acres brought in in a month, and Twilight wanted to pay her that much just working a few hours a day?

“Ah have to admit, Twilight, that’s a mighty generous offer.”

“Well, that’s what Austenite tells me that somepony working part-time would make in a firm in Trottingham, so I thought it would only be fair.”

“Fair?” Applejack repeated. “You don’t know how much that would mean for the Apple family, sugarcube. Tell you what, Twilight. Ah’ll take the job, and Ah’ll give you a discount on the land, too. But there’s just one thing Ah’ll need your help with first...”

* * *

“Yargh!” Austenite screamed as the fifth rainbow-hued bat buzzed low over his head, tiny fangs threatening to latch on to him. The tiny, strawberry shaped bat rejoined a squadron of its compatriots, circling around to get ready for another attack.

Applejack called out to the pegasus. “Austenite, Ah’ve told you- if you ignore them, they’ll leave you alone. Right now you’re only encouraging them by runnin’ around like that.”

Applejack, Austenite, and Twilight, now always shadowed by Bastion, had come down to survey the land that Twilight was going to buy. Sweet Apple Acres was still soggy from the storm the afternoon before, and the grass squelched as the four ponies walked through the western orchard. Applejack wasn’t lying when she said that this place was perfect for them—the land was nice and flat, and as an added bonus, it wasn’t too far of a walk from Ponyville.

The only problem was the fruit bats.

“Applejack, how long have these bats been here?” Twilight asked from under a magenta bubble. Now and again, a particularly stubborn bat would fly at the shield, only to rebound into the air with a flat drumbeat. Bastion contented himself with firing low-powered bolts of magic at any of the creatures that came too close to them.

“They’ve already gone through refraction, so that means they have to have had at least a litter or two.”

“Well, we started noticin’ them three summers ago, because they’d try to bite us when we bucked the nest trees. Haven’t been able to use the western orchard since.”

“Well, why aren’t they trying to turn your face into fruit salad now?” Austenite grumbled. He yelled again as a swarm of red, strawberry shaped ones came around for another pass. The pegasus gave a flap of his wings and leapt over the swarm, eliciting a laugh from the farmer.

“Cuz Ah’m not gamboolin’ around like a pig wrangler on a summer’s day.”

Maybe the bats just ignore Applejack—some kind of quid pro quo for not using the western orchard?

“Well,” Twilight said, “we’re going to have to figure out some way of moving these bats. We can’t work here if we’re constantly getting attacked.”

“Maybe Fluttershy knows a way to get rid of the varmints,” Applejack said. “Ah’ll see if she can ask them to move their nests to the Everfree or somethin’.”

“I’ll add that to the checklist.” Twilight laughed as Austenite narrowly avoided the swarm once again. “Austenite, come over here.” She dispelled her shield and allowed the pegasus inside. He nodded his thanks as the swarm on his tail broke off and flew away, evidently in search of other, lower-hanging fruit.

“Or, we can configure a spell matrix to project a shield over the whole place,” Austenite suggested.

“Austenite, the prototype spell matrix can hardly lift a feather, and you want to project a shield over the whole building? It’s going to be larger than the library twice over!”

Austenite gave a flip of his hoof. “It’s only a prototype, Twilight. We’ll get the efficiency up. We’re going to take this thing to the moon, for Goddesses’ sake—when the spell matrix is state-of-the-art, we’ll be able to project a shield over all of Ponyville!”

“It’ll keep Rarity away, that’s for sure,” Applejack quipped. “Ah’m sure a big purple bubble won’t jibe well with her sense ’o fashion.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Or, for right now, I can talk to Fluttershy.”

“Okay,” Austenite sniffed, “plan B, then.”

“Ah know this is work y’all are doin’ for the Princesses, but this side project of yours... After dealing with Nightmare Moon, why do you even want to go to the moon?”

“Applejack, you know as well as I do that Luna’s creation doesn’t have anything to do with Nightmare Moon anymore,” Twilight admonished.

“So why do you want to go, then?”

“Why do I want to go?” Twilight parroted Applejack’s question. “What can you tell me about the moon? What can anyone tell me about the moon?”

Applejack shrugged. “Uhh... it’s round?”

“Exactly!” Twilight threw her forelegs up in the air. “The moon has been over our heads for all of time, yet the sum total of ponykind’s knowledge of the moon is that it’s round, grey, and it rises and sets each night.” Twilight held her foreleg out, hoof upwards. “What’s it made of? How far away is it? How big is it? How did it get there—some kind of gargantuan spell?”

“Well, why don’t you just ask Princess Luna?” Applejack offered. “She was imprisoned on the moon for a thousand years. Don’tcha think that she knows?”

“She won’t tell me.” Twilight’s ears flattened against her skull, and she lowered her head. “I’ve asked her before—she says that she doesn’t remember much from her banishment, and what she does, she wishes she didn’t.” A pang of sadness crossed over Twilight’s face. “I wouldn’t want to put her through that again, not even in memory.”

“Besides,” Austenite butted in, “it’s not like she happened to have any proper scientific instruments in her saddlebags when she was banished. And what would she write down her data on, anyway?”

“There are just so many questions. And I want to know the answers. I want to know everything there is to know!” Twilight exclaimed. “And what better way than to go there ourselves? Can you imagine?” She stopped for a moment and gazed up into the sky. “Can you imagine standing on the moon? Looking up and seeing Equis hanging in the sky?”

“That’d be... wild,” Applejack breathed. Even Bastion nickered at the thought.

The ponies emerged on the top of a small hill, where they could see clearly what Applejack had in mind for the buildings. Twilight pulled out a roll of parchment from her saddlebags, ready to write down anything important.

Twilight normally reveled in the minutiae of organization, making checklists and charts and mapping everything out, but not even coordinating winter wrap-up compared to this. And there was no way the three of them could do it alone. They would need construction workers, they would need more engineers, ponies who specialized in gems, and enchantment, and in any number of magical fields. There would be schedules to write and keep to, materials to be bought... it would be a daunting task, even for Twilight.

Applejack pointed out different flags she had planted in the orchard below. “So I reckon this here’ll be a good place to build the main buildin’—y’all can see the electrical lines over the hill there, so gettin’ power won’t be too hard. Clearin’ the land will give us plenty of lumber, but we’ll need nails an’ fittings an’ the like. Of course, at first it may be hard to cart in any equipment, but—”

Twilight listened to Applejack talk, but her mind wasn’t really on the words anymore. She knew that she could listen to the entire conversation from memory later on. For now, she merely looked at the other ponies around her—an old friend, a new friend, and a royally-mandated ‘friend’—as the gravity of the situation sank in. It was one thing to sit and plan, to draw up lists, but it was quite another to actually be out in the field, looking out at a field of trees and knowing that the future of her work—and quite possibly the first steps on a journey to the moon—would rise from that very spot.

* * *

“How fast do you think we’ll be able to move out of here?” Austenite asked Twilight after he spit down his quill, taking a break from the drawing he was working on. “Don’t get me wrong—there’s nothing quite so... interesting as a basement project, but... a machine shop, proper facilities? A staff?” He grinned. “At the rate we’re expanding, we’ll be on par with any firm you could care to name.”

Roam wasn’t built in a day, and neither would be the new laboratory. Applejack might have the plans done over a particularly idle afternoon, but clearing the land, bringing materials, hiring workers, all of that would take time.

“Mm-hm,” Twilight responded absently, concentrating on her notes. “I’ve told Princess Celestia we would be ready to begin work in earnest again in a few weeks.”

“You told the Princess?”

“She asked me to keep her informed on our progress.”

The basement was filled with the sounds of two quills scratching on parchment as the two resumed working. Twilight put the finishing touches on yet another letter to a prospective colleague, and reached out with her magic for another sheet. She would have quite a lot to mail out the next morning.

“Twilight?” Austenite asked nervously.

She looked up as the pegasus called her name. She could see his eyes looking back at her over the top of the drafting table. “Yes, Austenite?”

“What exactly are you telling the Princess?”

Twilight gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean, ‘what am I telling her’? I’m sending her progress reports now—I’m sure that’s what Celestia expects now that we’re working for her.”

“You’ve told her about the new lab?”

“Mm-hm.”

“...Have you told her that we’re still planning on travelling to the moon?”

“I haven’t told her we’re not planning on it...”

“Well...” Austenite walked over to her desk. “Are we going to tell her?”

“I—I haven’t decided yet,” she said lamely.

That’s the million-bit question, isn’t it? Do I tell Celestia and take the chance that she’s changed her mind, or do I risk her displeasure when she finds out? Twilight’s thoughts surprised her—she couldn’t remember if she’d ever lied to Celestia before. I must have, at some point—did breaking into the Starswirl the Bearded wing of the library count?

She was Princess Celestia’s Faithful Student. She owed everything to her, and it went against everything she ever learned to conceal anything from her teacher. But now she was also the Princess Twilight Sparkle, equal of the Royal Sisters, an alicorn in her own right. Princess Luna was right, she was her own mare now, by any measure of the phrase. Celestia no longer had veto over everything she did.

But it was Celestia who had always kept her safe, always had her best interests in mind. Hay, we might still be under the iron hoof of Nightmare Moon if I hadn’t made friends like Celestia asked.

“You know she’s going to find out eventually,” Austenite chided. “I mean, she’s got her own personal spy, doesn’t she?”

Twilight bit her lip, and glanced at Bastion, standing by the basement door. It surprised her that she hadn’t thought of him immediately. Perhaps it was a sign that she was getting used to this bodyguard idea, if Bastion was blending into the background for her. It was no use trying to hide anything, of course—even if they could obfuscate their plans, there was no way that they could build an entire spaceship under his snout without him catching on. But that only mattered if he did report to Celestia.

“Bastion has sworn an oath of fealty to me, personally. As such, you cannot lie to me?” she questioned the stallion.

“No, Your Highness.”

She posed the question, if only to satisfy Austenite. “Then do you report to princess Celestia?”

“If she asks for my appraisal of the security situation, I will respond.”

“But is he telling her anything else?” Austenite blurted out.

Twilight gave him a flat look. “You know, Bastion is right there. You can ask him yourself.”

“It is my duty to safeguard any information I may hear in confidence. Unless of course, it involves acts such as treason.”

Austenite, still suspicious, stepped up to him. “Last time I checked, working on a side project didn’t qualify as treason.”

Bastion refused to look down at the engineer, preferring to stare straight ahead and remain silent.

Stallions, Twilight nickered. “You see? Nopony is spying on anypony. Now can we get back to work, please?” She levitated her quill again, and resumed scratching onto the parchment.

With only a momentary pause, Austen’s quill rejoined hers.

* * *

The gryphon, Kaspar, looked down over his beak at the newcomer before him. “Name?”

The shorter gryphon bowed, sweeping the tips of his wings on the stone floor. “Zeichner Eckhart, of the Rotekralles, at your service, sir.”

Kaspar frowned, and wondered how this cub could possibly be the best that Stonecliff could send him. The fact that he was young either made him a prodigy or someone’s son. Four Winds, I pray that it’s the former. A prodigy can learn, eventually. Someone’s son? More difficult, and I can’t be rid of him so easily. He had no bad blood with the Rotekralles. Even though there were few gryphons who could touch him, he preferred not to make enemies.

He held the silence and continued to stare down at him. Eckhart shifted from paw to paw under the elder gryphon’s gaze.

Nervous, Kaspar thought with a note of satisfaction. That’s good. At least he isn’t an idiot.

“Engineering claw?”

“No, sir. The King’s School.”

“Ironworking?”

“Electricity,” the gryphon said quietly.

Kaspar leaned back and considered the cub again. Yes, he clearly knew his place, which ruled out noble birth, but there was a hardness in his eyes that did not shine of fear. He had a look of... wariness, one that far outstripped his age. This young gryphon didn’t know who he was, but knew that he should be treated with caution, like a bare wingblade. The Equestrians were one thing, and would remain aloof until snow caught fire, but there were few gryhpons that could meet his gaze with such coolness.

“And what do you know of me?”

“That you are to give me work, sir.”

“That may very well be true.” Kaspar leaned back. “Tell me, what do you know of magic?”

Eckhart furrowed his brow. “I would hardly consider myself to be knowledgeable on the subject, sir.”

“Indulge me.”

“Well, sir, the only thing I know of magic is related to the unified field theory. As of course you know,” the younger gryphon said, tactfully avoiding the idea that there was anything Kaspar didn’t know, “the theory states that, in effect, magic and electromagnetism are the same, merely symptoms of some overbearing field. But my texts didn’t delve into much detail,” he admitted. “As I understand it, there is some higher-dimensional mathematics that is certainly beyond me. Of course, it’s even beyond most of our scholars, seeing as there hasn’t yet been a gryphon born with a horn.” He clicked his beak.

“How would you like to be the first?”

Eckhart’s mask broke as he fixed Kaspar with a perplexed stare. “Umm... the first... gryphon with a horn, sir?”

“What? No!” Kaspar facepalmed. “No, the first expert!. The first to truly synthesize earth forces and magic?”

“Oh! Erm, I see, sir. Yes, sir, I would like that very much.” The youth nodded emphatically.

“Good. Then I do indeed have work for you. And I will warn you now,” the elder gryphon said as he leaned back over the desk, “this is not for you to write some paper.” He brought a claw down on the desk for emphasis. “I expect you to put results in my claws.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Now, you will report directly to me, and only to me. You’ll have all the resources you will need, no matter the cost. You’ll have the notes of my last researcher, but that is it. You will work alone, and you will find yourself on the mountainside with your wings broken if you attempt to divulge anything.” Kaspar smiled. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Eckhart nodded. “Just... the gryphon on the project before me... can I not confer with him?”

Kaspar laughed sharply. “No, I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

Eckhart pressed further. “Conduct an interview under observation, maybe?”

“No.”

“And why not?” he demanded.

“Because he’s dead. I can throw in his autopsy, if you want.” That shut the cub up. “And before you think it, no, I did not have him killed. He suffered an accident of purely his own design. Which you should probably take care to keep in mind.”

Kaspar lifted a leather-bound case and pressed it into the stunned Zeichner’s claws. “Here. All of his notes, and the original blueprints. The guard outside will show you to your workroom. Oh, and a word of advice?” he called as Eckhart stood to leave. “If I were you, I’d steer clear of anything he wrote on the last page!”

Author's Note

Aaaaand done. Done with university for this year. I've resisted the urge to jump off the nearest bridge I could find, so now I can focus on writing again! I'm down to one chapter in the hopper, but, barring any unforseen events, I should be able to deliver content on-schedule!