Day 11, 07:53

Pinkie opened her bedroom door, half expecting to be ambushed as was so often the case. To her slight disappointment, the corridor was deserted. Following yesterday’s trial she had returned to her room, collapsed on her bed where she remained perfectly still for the next several hours, trying and failing at assessing how exactly she felt. Naturally she hadn’t eaten in all that time, so now as she walked down stairs to the dining room she found herself feeling utterly famished.

Arriving outside her destination, Pinkie exhaled and braced herself, hesitant at what she might have to face today. As seconds trickled by and it became apparent it wouldn’t get any easier, she just bit the bullet, and walked in as if nothing were wrong.

Surprisingly the dining room was almost empty, occupied only by Fleur and Braeburn, the latter of which was pouring tea for the first.

“Thank you,” Fleur said forlornly once her cup was full. Braeburn just nodded back and turned to wheel the tray beside him back to the kitchen, when he spotted Pinkie.

“Oh, Pinkie, you’re up,” he declared surprised; Fleur’s head snapped up at the mention of Pinkie’s name, her eyes wide and filled with worry.

“Yeah, I was getting pretty hungry,” Pinkie admitted, giving a nervous grin.

“Sure thing, you just wait here while I fix you something up,” Braeburn insisted, carrying on out of the room, “I remember how much you like apple pies.”

“I do, thanks,” Pinkie replied gratefully, giving Braeburn a genuine smile as he left.

Once he did, the room was filled with an icy silence as Fleur stared down at the rippling surface of her tea and Pinkie pulled up a seat nearly opposite her.

I should probably say something… I don’t know what to say.

Thankfully Pinkie was saved from having to figure something out when Fleur spoke up, her voice hoarse.

“I’m sorry Pinkie,” she said simply, still refusing to look up. “I… I should never have suspected you.”

“Why?” Pinkie asked sounding disinterested, Fleur looked up surprised. “I looked pretty guilty, had it been the other way around I probably would have suspected you too. You did what you had to; you had to think about everypony’s wellbeing.”

“But…” Fleur began, sounding distraught. “You trusted me, you treated me like your friend, and I turned on you and dismissed your story when you needed me most. I think you should have this back.”

Fleur levitated the master key onto the table in front of Pinkie.

“It’s seriously alright,” Pinkie insisted, taking the key before her and storing it back in her bag, “we still got the real culprit in the end.”

“Yes, Blueblood,” Fleur stated coldly, “to think we were fooled by that egotistical worm.”

“It was the Mastermind that fooled us,” Pinkie reminded her, “Blueblood could never have pulled that off on his own.”

“True,” Fleur agreed. “I must admit, I’m a little surprised by his… methods.”

Pinkie didn’t answer, instead just looked away, grimacing. She was saved from having to confront that issue by the reappearance of Braeburn wheeling in a steaming apple pie. Pinkie licked her lips upon seeing it, the mere smell causing her to forget about her plight. Fleur was thoughtful enough not to bring it back up once Pinkie had been served a large slice and had begun digging in. While she ate, the others began arriving into the dining room, some greeting Pinkie warmly, others simply offering her a polite nod.

Trixie sat down next to Pinkie, helping herself to her own slice of pie from the now half empty dish in front of Pinkie.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Trixie commented as she cut away at small helping.

“Not at all,” Pinkie encouraged happily, still munching on her own spoonful.

“I’m not going to apologise,” Trixie said suddenly, causing Pinkie to look up surprised.

“I wasn’t expecting you to,” Pinkie replied honestly. She didn’t think Trixie was that type to apologise of her own accord even if Pinkie had wanted one.

“If any of us are expected to get out of here in one piece,” Trixie continued, “we have to make tough decisions, that includes accusing our friends.”

Did Trixie just admit we were friends?

“I understand that,” Pinkie responded honestly.

“I hope so,” Trixie stated, “because from this point onwards we can’t afford any more murders distracting us from our goal.”

“Do you have a plan?” Pinkie asked hopefully.

“Well after almost two weeks of near nonstop reading,” Trixie began to explain, “I have been forced to conclude that we can’t beat the Mastermind’s magic, instead we have to beat the Mastermind themselves, and to do that we need to figure out who the Mastermind is.”

“Do you still suspect Orchid?” Pinkie questioned.

“I still consider it to be a distinct possibility,” Trixie corrected, “an empty grave is one thing, but when you consider he number of beings capable of using the kind of old magic I’ve read about…”

Trixie drifted off, Pinkie nodded solemnly.

“Oh yeah,” Trixie said, as if only just remembering something. “Vinyl asked Trixie on the way down here to inform you that she needs to speak with you, apparently she couldn’t face you in front of everypony else.”

Pinkie nodded, trying to suppress her smirk.

I wonder if she notices how she slips out of speaking in third person when she’s being serious.

Day 11, 08:38

Vinyl muttered under her breath, the spell she had just cast apparently yielding no results. Pinkie smirked from the balcony of the entrance hall before announcing herself.

“Still not getting anywhere?” Pinkie asked, causing Vinyl to metaphorically jump out of her skin.

“Pinkie, I…” Vinyl began before stammering incoherently.

Pinkie walked down the main staircase briskly, coming to a halt in front of Vinyl and offered her a friendly smile. That seemed to be the tipping point for Vinyl who rushed forward, her glasses flying off as she embraced Pinkie in a hug that could rival her own.

“I’m so sorry,” Vinyl cried, burying her face in Pinkie’s coat as her body shook with sobs. “I should have trusted you, I should have…”

“Vinyl, it’s alright,” Pinkie declared, cutting Vinyl off. Pinkie held her out at arm’s length; Vinyl’s eyes were bloodshot from crying. “You did what you thought was right, I don’t hate you for it. Besides, it was you who cleared my name when you found the message, I should be thanking you.”

“Dammit Pinkie,” Vinyl exclaimed as a fresh wave of tears overcame her.

Day 11, 08:49

Vinyl had finally calmed down, and the pair now sat on the bottom step in the entrance hall, chatting casually, Vinyl occasionally giving a small sniff.

“So Trixie’s still barking up that tree huh?” Vinyl said after hearing what Pinkie had to say.

“You don’t believe it’s him?” Pinkie asked.

“It just seems like such a stretch you know,” Vinyl answered. “Saying some few hundred year old mage is still secretly alive inside his old house, just sounds like another one of those ridiculous conspiracy theories, like King Sombra was actually an alicorn.”

Huh, I’ve never heard that one before, but then his cloak did cover his back…

“I just think there’s a far more plausible explanation,” Vinyl finished enigmatically.

“You do?” Vinyl nodded before looking around them, as if making sure they were alone.

“I’ve been thinking about what I said at the first trial,” Vinyl continued, “about how there’s always sixteen places, even though there was only fifteen of us.”

“You think there really is a sixteenth pony?” Pinkie queried, “And you think they’re the Mastermind?”

“I think it’s more likely than what Trixie has suggested,” Vinyl replied, “and I would bet any money that if we went to the second floor right now, there would be sixteen bedrooms.”

“Even if there is, how would we get inside?” Pinkie asked. “Even the master key can’t open the bedroom doors, and we’re not allowed to force them open.”

“If we’re gonna get out of here, we have to start breaking the rules,” Vinyl declared, standing up.

“Vinyl,” Pinkie began unsure.

“After the trial yesterday,” Vinyl continued, switching her train of thought suddenly, “I cast a quick sonar spell, there are other rooms beneath this floor.”

“So how do we get to them?” Pinkie asked, standing up next to Vinyl.

“No idea,” Vinyl admitted. “I’m still no closer to getting through these stairs.”

“Why not ask Trixie for help?” Pinkie asked, “She seemed to have hit a dead end with her research in the library anyway.”

“She has?” Vinyl asked, “I guess I will then. Come on, I’m not going to get anything more done here.”

Together the pair ascended the stairs, making for the dining room, but as they did the sound of approaching hoofsteps could be heard. Looking up, the pair saw Fleur approaching.

“I’m not interrupting anything am I?” Fleur asked hesitantly as Vinyl quickly put her glasses back on.

“No, we were just going to find Trixie,” Pinkie explained.

“She’s still in the dining room,” Fleur explained, “but I’ve had a thought, maybe we should seal the shed up. We can’t risk the tools being used to murder anypony else, but there’s far too much there to take inventory on like we do with the lab and kitchen.”

“Sure, I think the chain is still outside the shed anyway,” Pinkie pointed out, leading the way back towards the dining room.

Day 11, 09:24

The nine remaining ponies were gathered around outside the shed, looking into the still open doors, Fleur holding the previously discarded chain in her magic.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Braeburn asked unsure.

“Of course it is,” Soarin insisted. “Those tools are nothing but trouble.”

“I get that, but don’t you think we should at least keep some stuff with us?” Braeburn argued. “Nothing dangerous, just some stuff that might come in handy.”

“I guess that’s fair enough,” Pinkie agreed. Braeburn led the way into the shed, Soarin following closely behind.

Looking around, Pinkie saw Vinyl deep in conversation with Trixie, no doubt discussing teaming up to get through the staircase in the entrance hall. Fleur was standing idly by, still holding the chain. Redheart, Gizmo and Cloudchaser were all chatting animatedly. After several dull minutes, the two stallions returned, carrying between them a single red tool box.

“It’s not a lot, but at least we’ll have them should we need them,” Braeburn said with a shrug. Pinkie nodded before stepping forward and helping Soarin close the doors.

Once they were shut, Fleur telekinetically wrapped the chain through the handles once more, clicking the padlock once she was done.

Day 11, 11:02

“It was just a few screw drivers, pliers, the usual stuff,” Braeburn explained as he took his shot at the pool table. “If any of you need them, they’re up in my room.”

“Hey guys,” Cloudchaser called from beside the fireplace, “any chance of getting a fire lit up in here?”

“Are you cold?” Soarin asked from the sofa where he sat. “It feels pretty toasty to me.”

“I have crap circulation,” Cloudchaser explained, “I always feel cold.”

“Sure, we can go grab some wood,” Braeburn offered, “I’ve still got the matches.”

“Thanks,” Cloudchaser said appreciatively, “hey, didn’t Gizmo say he was going to join us here for a game?”

“I thought I saw him heading up to his room,” Pinkie commented, rubbing the tip of her cue with chalk.

“Is it just me, or has he been spending an awful lot of time hiding from the rest of us?” Soarin asked suspiciously.

“Maybe he thinks we’re going to murder him,” Cloudchaser said laughing. “But seriously, I’ll go check on him while you guys get this fire lit.”

Cloudchaser made to leave the room, but had to sidestep past Vinyl who was trying to come in.

“Redheart said you were in here,” Vinyl said, approaching Pinkie.

“Did you get any further with the stairs?” Pinkie asked, taking a shot.

“Nah, Trixie said she’d help me later,” Vinyl explained, “I was wondering if you wanted to go check the bedrooms now.”

“Sure, I’m almost done here anyway.” Pinkie took one final shot. “Okay, now I’m done. Let’s go.”

Day 11, 11:40

Pinkie and Vinyl stood before a door, a seemingly ordinary door.

“So this is the one,” Pinkie repeated for the dozenth time.

“Well it’s the only one not accounted for,” Vinyl stated, “assuming we’re right in being able to identify everypony else’s rooms.”

So this is it, the sixteenth room, the room of the missing pony…

Pinkie reached out and turned the handle. To neither of their surprise, the door was locked.

“Do you want to try the maser key?” Vinyl asked, “Just to be sure.”

Pinkie obliged, but naturally the key refused to fit into the lock let alone open the door.

“Are you sure you want to try forcing our way in here?” Pinkie asked. Vinyl bit her lip, clearly torn between the desire to see beyond the door, and the fear of being punished.

“I think we have to,” Vinyl said at last, turning around and rearing her hind legs.

“Wait!” Pinkie shouted, just before Vinyl’s bucked. “Why don’t we get Braeburn to take the door off the hinges with his tools? That’s not forcing, right?”

“Sure,” Vinyl agreed, sounding slightly relieved. “Let’s go get him.”

Day 11, 12:16

Pinkie and Vinyl watched in anticipation as Braeburn unscrewed the last of the hinges. Redheart and Fleur just watched with innocent curiosity.

“A sixteenth pony,” Redheart whispered, “how did we never see them?”

“Maybe they too are working with the Mastermind,” Fleur suggested bitterly. “It certainly gave the last pony who did a leg up.”

“Or maybe they are the Mastermind,” Vinyl whispered so only Pinkie could hear. Pinkie gulped, never taking her eyes off the door; as if afraid its occupant would scarper the moment it was cracked open.

Braeburn removed the final screw so that the door was now just balanced precariously against his hooves. Noticeably sweating, he eased the door out of the frame, leaning it against the wall. Braeburn stepped away from the open door, clearly unkeen on being the first to enter. Vinyl instead took it upon herself to walk forward, and when Pinkie heard her gasp, she too rushed in.

The room was a mess to say the least; the dresser was collapsed to the floor, its drawers lying haphazardly around the room. The bedside table had been smashed to pieces, the sheets shredded over the bed. The window had been boarded up, so hardly any light penetrated the room, giving it an eerie and unwelcoming vibe.

“Well this isn’t encouraging,” Fleur said, entering after Pinkie. Nopony responded, each too disturbed by what they had discovered to manage anything.

Pinkie set about searching around the room, in the remains of the dresser and bedside table for anything that might provide a clue as to who was staying here. Approaching the bed with Vinyl, they checked under the sheets and mattress, but found nothing. Walking towards the bathroom door, Pinkie opened it to find a dim light bulb still flickering absently inside. While the bathroom was in a fairly intact state, it still sent the same chill down Pinkie’s spine the rest of the room had.

“Anything in here?” Redheart asked from the other side of the door. Pinkie opened her mouth to answer no, but stopped as something in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

Stepping across to the shower, a damp towel lay balled up on the floor, but it was what stuck out of it that drew Pinkie’s attention. Reaching out, Pinkie grasped the towel and shook it, dislodging whatever was inside and causing it to fall to the floor of the shower. Discarding the towel, Pinkie looked down at what was now before her. Three powder white feathers.

Day 11, 13:15

“Definitely Pegasus feathers,” Soarin said, examining the white feathers before him. “I’d be a mule’s uncle before I couldn’t recognise Pegasus feathers.”

All the ponies sat around the dining room table, two of the feathers in front of Soarin, the last being held by Cloudchaser.

“Where did you find these again?” Cloudchaser asked.

“In the sixteenth bedroom,” Vinyl repeated, “Braeburn took the door off the hinges.”

“So there really were sixteen ponies,” Trixie commented, levitating one of the feathers from Soarin over to herself to examine.

“It would seem so,” Fleur agreed, “but why would the Mastermind keep this one locked up?”

“And who are they shupposhed to be?” Gizmo asked.

“And what happened to them?” Braeburn chipped in, sounding worried.

“Maybe nothing did happen to them,” Vinyl stated, causing everypony to look at her in surprise. “Think about it, another pony who was definitely in this house, but we’ve never seen…”

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Trixie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Why not?” Vinyl stated defiantly, “that courtroom has sixteen seats, and the Mastermind occupies the one that was always empty. Coincidence?”

“Still doesn’t tell us who this sixteenth pony was,” Redheart interrupted. “We probably all know dozens of pegasi with white feathers, heck, I’m sure Pinkie could name everypony in Ponyville that fits that criteria.”

“It’s true, I could,” Pinkie agreed.

“Well, at least this brings us a little closer,” Soarin said, handing his feather back to Pinkie.

“Well if that’sh all,” Gizmo began standing up from his chair. “I have shome bushinessh I need to attend to.”

And before anypony could open their mouths, he had sped from the room.

“Did you ever figure out what he up to?” Braeburn asked Cloudchaser.

“No, he wasn’t in his room earlier,” she admitted, “I don’t know where he’s been going.”

“Somepony should keep an eye on him,” Trixie stated. “It won’t do to have one of our own keeping secrets from us.”

“Alright, I’ll go after him now,” Soarin said, standing up and leaving the room.

“Do you really believe Gizmo is a threat?” Redheart asked in disbelief.

“Do you want to take that risk?” Trixie asked. Redheart remained silent. “Trixie didn’t think so. Now if that is all, Vinyl would you like to go look at the staircase now?”

“Sure,” Vinyl said, leading the pair from the room.

“What about the rest of us?” Pinkie asked looking to the remaining ponies.

“Well I’m going to get back to lighting those fires,” Braeburn explained, mostly addressing Cloudchaser.

“I’ll come lend you a hoof,” she replied.

“And I think I’ll head to the library,” Fleur said standing up. “Since Trixie is no longer working there, it will give me something to do. Would either of you care to join me?”

Pinkie and Redheart looked at each other, giving a small shrug before answering simultaneously.

“Sure.”

Day 11, 15:39

“Ancient magic indeed,” Pinkie whispered to herself as she scanned the pages of one of the books Trixie had left out.

The whole thing was like reading runes to Pinkie, and the process had given her newfound respect for Trixie that she could comprehend all this. From what Pinkie could gather, it was incredibly complicated magic, she doubted even Twilight could have performed it perfectly.

Orchid the Omnipotent… So called for his skills in all fields of magic, not just his own.

Trixie was convinced the absence of Orchid’s remains was the proof that he was the Mastermind, but Vinyl believed it was nothing more than superstition.

Magic can be cast by all ponies, not just unicorns.

Was it not possible then, that Vinyl was right, that the mysterious missing Pegasus could be the Mastermind?

Who is the Mastermind? What do they stand to gain from any of this? They claimed they were more than a mere sadist, which would indicate all this has some meaning to it, so what’s the meaning? What reason could anypony have for forcing others to kill each other?

Pinkie groaned, slamming the book shut. All these questions, she felt like she was going around in circles, but at the same time it was almost as if the answers were staring her in the face. Looking around she saw Fleur was still deep in reading, while Redheart was browsing the shelves, apparently finding nothing of interest in the pile Trixie had left out.

Pinkie stood up and approached a shelf at random. Looking up at the plaque above it she discovered it was the history shelf.

Better than nothing.

Scanning the spines, Pinkie began listing off the titles, only half interested in what she was doing.

History of the Crystal Empire. A Date with Discord. Mare at Arms: a Complete History of Equestrian Weaponry. How many chickens does it take to lay siege to Canterlot? The Arcane Manor. The Elements of Har… Wait, what?

Pinkie scrolled back one book, pulling out the surprisingly light tome titled ‘The Arcane Manor’.

It probably won’t say anything we don’t know already, but it’s better than reading about chickens attacking Canterlot… which I’m pretty sure is a foal’s book.

Taking the book back to her seat, Pinkie pushed her previous book aside, and set the considerably smaller one in its place.

In the year 214 Post Unification, the great mage Rosethorn established the foundations of her first school east of the new settlement of Van Hoover. The school would be known as the Arcane University, and served the primary goal of training the most prodigious unicorns in the magical arts. It has been rumoured, Rosethorn did this with the intention of building an army to suppress the other pony races and reassert unicorn dominance.

Pinkie stopped reading, surprised at the racist undertones behind the very building she was sitting in.

Whether this was the case of not, the school was forced to close down by the first Equestrian government following a magical accident resulting in the creation of what is today known as Galloping Gorge.

“Huh, you learn something new every day,” Pinkie said in a thoughtful tone before continuing.

The school was henceforth renamed the Arcane Manor, and given to Rosethorn’s apprentice Foxglove, thus beginning the tradition of the manor’s ownership passing from great unicorn to great unicorn. Once the manor had passed ownership to Foxglove, he proceeded to make some structural changed, including the expansion of the manor underground…

Pinkie suddenly perked up at this point, becoming far more attentive than she had been previously.

For the purpose of carrying out geological experiments. However during the reign of Discord, the underground caved in. To this day there has never been any attempt made to regain access to the basement floors.

“Well somepony must have,” Pinkie commented.

(see page 62 for a copy of the last map of the underground)

Pinkie furiously flipped forward to the indicated page, finding a cramped diagram spread over two pages of the different underground levels. The first map showed a few rooms, including one large round room Pinkie knew very well. This room was labelled ‘mine shaft’.

So the courtroom used to be an entrance to the underground caverns, so the holes the culprits fell through probably lead down there somewhere.

Near that room, Pinkie saw the staircase entrance drawn on, but what really drew her attention, was the presence of a room adjacent to the corridor leading from the bottom of the stairs to the courtroom.

That’s weird, I never saw another room.

The map indicated there was a door leading into it, but Pinkie was sure they had never seen that door. Beyond that, the map suggested there were two other entrances from the first floor to the underground. Small labels indicating that these entrances emerged near the other doors to the house.

Satisfied with this find, Pinkie closed the book, shoved it into her bag, and hurried from the library to find Vinyl and Trixie, leaving a perplexed Fleur and Redheart in her wake.

Day 11, 16:50

“Anything?” Pinkie asked hopefully as Trixie’s horn stopped glowing.

“Nothing,” Trixie said in dismay. “The book wasn’t lying, there was definitely a room beneath this one, but from what I can tell it was never restored like the courtroom was.”

Pinkie sighed. The kitchen had been their first destination, being the closest to the east grounds door.

“How about the pool?” Vinyl suggested, looking over the map. “It’s probably the other room that led downstairs according to this map.”

“No,” Trixie said dismissively, “you are right, but to build that pool they no doubt renovated the rooms bellow it. That section of the basement probably doesn’t exist anymore.”

“So the only entrance actually leading anywhere is the one in the entrance hall,” Pinkie summarised, disappointed that her discovery had amounted to nothing.

“It would appear that way,” Trixie agreed, “but don’t be too miffed, you were right to bring this up, at least now we can rule them out.”

Pinkie smiled slightly. “Did you get anywhere with the stairs?”

“No,” Vinyl said, sounding annoyed. “Trixie thinks the Mastermind’s magic is blocking us from opening it, like it does when we try to teleport.”

“Clearly something is down there,” Trixie commented, “or they wouldn’t put so much effort into keeping us out.”

“Yeah, like this room,” Vinyl pointed out, gesturing at the map. “Next trial, we have to look for that room.”

“What do you mean next trial?!” Pinkie asked, horrified. “I think we’ve had more than enough already.”

“Oh, yeah,” Vinyl began sounding guilty. “I just mean, if there’s another trial, which I hope there won’t be, it would give us a good excuse to look into this room.”

“Hopefully it won’t resort to that,” Pinkie said worriedly. “Come on; let’s go see what the others are up to.”

Day 11, 19:20

Pinkie Pie laid sprawled out in front of the fire in the parlour, half sleeping. She had to admit, Cloudchaser knew how to use her hooves.

“Where did you learn to massage like that?” Pinkie asked, in a slurred voice.

“In my profession, it pays to be good with your hooves,” Cloudchaser said giggling. Pinkie might have shuddered at that, but she was too relaxed to care what Cloudchaser was implying.

Braeburn had just re-entered, bringing in refills of hot chocolate for everypony. Redheart and Trixie were playing a game of chess, while Fleur observed intently. Soarin lay exhausted on one of the sofas while Vinyl causally curled up next to him, lightly snoring. Gizmo was nowhere to be seen.

Trixie and Redheart were both staring intently at the board in front of them, each whittled down to their kings and a couple of pawns each. It had quite basically turned into a race as to who could get their pawns to the opposite end of the board faster, a race Redheart was certain to win.

“You know,” Trixie said suddenly, “What say we call it a draw?”

Redheart opened her moth to refuse, but then closed it when she remembered that despite being closer to the end of the board; her king was still in more immediate danger once Trixie traded in her pawns.

“Sure,” Redheart conceded. Reaching out a hoof to Trixie, who stared blankly for a few seconds before realising she was expected to shake it.

“Well that was… interesting,” Fleur commented as Trixie and Redheart shook on their mutual victory.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Trixie asked suspiciously.

“Well, I lost count of the number of moves you both could have made which would have most certainly resulted in you coming out the winner,” she explained, slightly smugly.

“You want to put your pieces where you mouth is?” Trixie challenged. Fleur grinned slyly.

“Gladly.”

Redheart moved away to allow Fleur to take her place. Once the pieces were rearranged, Trixie confidently moved her first pawn out two spaces. Fleur responded by telekinetically moving her own pawn a single space barely a second after Trixie had moved her piece. Trixie was a bit thrown off by this, deciding to take the next move slowly. After several painfully boring minutes, she finally moved a single pawn forward one space. As soon as she did Fleur moved her queen.

“Checkmate,” she declared smugly.

“What?!” Trixie shouted, casing Vinyl to jolt awake and fall off the sofa. “Impossible! I can still move my… my…”

Trixie’s eye twitched as she scanned the board, desperately looking for a move she could make. It quickly became apparent there was none, and she fell back in her seat in a huff.

“Chess is stupid!” she declared, pouting.

Day 12, 10:01

“You know,” Cloudchaser announced, breaking the silence around the dining table. “We’ve been here for almost two weeks; do you think anypony’s looking for us?”

“God I’d like to think so,” Vinyl replied haughtily. “Forget the fact that among our group was two nobles, the element of laughter and an alicorn princess, I’m sure all our friends and families will have noticed our disappearances and our looking for us.”

“What are we supposed to tell them when we get out of here?” Braeburn asked.

“Forget that,” Pinkie interrupted, “what are we supposed to tell the families of those who didn’t make it?”

“The truth,” Fleur said simply, “we owe them that much, and besides, we’re not to blame for all this.”

“Which brings us neatly back to the question, who is?” Trixie stated.

The table fell into silence once more.

We know the Mastermind is somewhere in the house based on what Trixie and Vinyl discovered from the power crystal in the screen. Since the master bedroom and the sixteenth bedroom were both empty, where does that leave? The basement?

“Let’s just take it slow,” Fleur suggested. “So long as no more murders occur, we should be able to investigate in peace, and sooner or later the truth will come out.”

“I wish I could still feel that confident,” Soarin said with a sigh.

“Maybe you should take your own advice and do some exercise,” Pinkie suggested, “I know I haven’t done any for a few days, why don’t we head over to the gym now?”

“Sure, that sounds like fun,” Soarin agreed.

“Hey, weren’t you supposed to be watching Gizmo?” Braeburn cut in.

“I would if I could figure out where he was going,” Soarin complained. Pinkie looked around the table to confirm that once again Gizmo had disappeared.

“I’ll go look for him then,” Braeburn said exasperatedly, standing up.

“Why don’t we just send him a message?” Cloudchaser proposed, tapping the screen on her hoof computer.

“If you want to,” Braeburn said noncommittally, “anything’s better than running around this house, looking out for any blinking red dots.”

“Are you alright?” Pinkie asked, concerned.

“No, of course I’m not alright!” Braeburn fumed, “I have a town, an orchard and a family I need to look after. If I stay cooped up in this dungeon much longer I’m going to do something crazy!”

The ponies around the table all froze, glancing nervously at one another, unsure how to respond. Only Cloudchaser reacted differently, rushing forward to Braeburn and wrapping him in a big hug, slipping her forehooves beneath his jacket.

“Oh, it’s okay,” she said in a surprisingly comforting tone. “We all want to go home. Just don’t lose faith.”

“Uh…” Braeburn mumbled, his frustration ebbing away, replaced by awkwardness as Cloudchaser held him very close. “Thanks Cloud, I really needed that.”

“Any time,” she said pulling away from him. “We’ve got to support each other if we’re going to get out of here.”

Day 12, 13:14

“I gotta say Soarin,” Pinkie said, breathlessly as the pair left the gym. “You sure know how to give a girl a workout.”

Soarin’s face turned bright red. “Yeah, you could say that… in any way other than that.”

Stallions are weird.

“But yeah,” Soarin continued, coughing awkwardly. “I’m surprised you managed as much as you did. I’ve seen candidates for the Wonderbolts who couldn’t bench as much as you could.”

“Well I am an earth pony,” Pinkie reminded him, “and I grew up on a rock farm.”

“A rock farm?” Soarin repeated confused.

“It’s like a quarry but…” Pinkie began, hesitating, “not.”

“Okay…” Soarin replied awkwardly, unsure whether he wanted to know what the difference was or not. “Hey, there’s Braeburn.”

Pinkie looked up and saw Braeburn stomping around in frustration, looking around the floor.

“Hey Braeburn, what’s up?” Pinkie asked cheerfully as they approached. Braeburn looked relieved upon seeing them.

“I’m trying to get into my room here,” he explained, “but I must have dropped my key, can you lend me a hoof?”

The two ponies agreed, and together they searched the corridor for Braeburn’s lost key, it didn’t take long for Pinkie to find it lying awkwardly behind one of the plant pots.

“Thanks Pinkie,” Braeburn said appreciatively as he offered him it. “Don’t know how it ended up there seeing as how I walked up here from the opposite direction. Where were you two going anyway?”

“We’re going to hit the showers,” Soarin explained.

“Ah yeah, probably for the best,” Braeburn stated, taking note of the sweat glistening on their coats before unlocking his room and stepping inside.

“Do I smell to you?” Pinkie asked, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

“Uh…” Soarin hesitated. “Why don’t we hurry on over to the wash rooms.”

Pinkie gave a small moan as they continued walking.

Day 12, 13:51

Pinkie stepped out of the wash room, still towelling herself off. Soarin had already departed some time earlier, and she was left wandering the hall alone

“Hey Pinkie!” a voice called out.

Well that didn’t last long.

Pinkie turned to see Cloudchaser and Redheart approaching her.

“Hey girls,” Pinkie greeted, “what’s up?”

“Redheart here just pointed out that there might be more wine in the master bedroom,” Cloudchaser explained. “So we’re going up there to look, and if there is we can have a party later, just us girls, no boys allowed.”

“I meant,” Redheart cut in sounding disgruntled. “That since Blueblood found the wine, and he was working with the Mastermind, maybe there are things other than alcohol in the master bedroom, and we should go have another look.”

“Oh don’t be a prude,” Cloudchaser said, rolling her eyes. “Sure we’ll look for other stuff, but if there is wine, it’s party time. So what do you say Pinkie?”

“Well Redheart’s right, there might be something of interest in there,” Pinkie stated, Cloudchaser groaned at Pinkie’s response. “But I am also an expert when it comes to parties.”

“That’s the spirit!” Cloudchaser said delighted, taking hold of Pinkie and Redheart and skipping down the hallway.

Once the trio arrived upstairs they found the double doors to the master bedroom still open as they had been left. Once inside they found the room fairly undisturbed, no different to how it had been when they first discovered it.

“Alright, let’s get searching,” Cloudchaser declared, sounding like a filly on Hearts Warming Day.

Redheart rolled her eyes before setting about her own search. Pinkie joined in, but she didn’t exactly know what she should be doing considering they had already searched here and found nothing, they hadn’t even found the alcohol Blueblood had claimed to find here. Taking a quick glance into the bathroom, Pinkie found the bathtub still stained various shades of purple. Coming back out she found Redheart sitting on the bed, staring blankly at a small box in her hooves, the drawer of the bedside table lying open next to her.

“Did you find something?” Pinkie asked. Redheart didn’t answer, her spaced out look was beginning to worry Pinkie who walked over and sat down beside her. In her hooves was a small blue, velvet box, and cradled within was a gold band with a large diamond set in the top.

“I was engaged to be married before all this began,” Redheart said weakly, staring at the ring.

“Doctor Stable?” Pinkie queried, she knew they had certainly been dating at one time or another. Redheart nodded, tears forming in her eyes.

“I came here, because I received a letter from our wedding planner,” Redheart explained, “or, what I had thought was our wedding planner. The letter said this mansion was available for the wedding reception, and that I should come and see it. I didn’t tell my fiancé where I was going, I wanted it to be a surprise. But before I left, he told me he was getting cold hooves, and he wanted to call the whole thing off.”

Pinkie put a hoof around Redheart’s shoulder as she closed the box and set it back inside the drawer.

“I don’t think I’d shouted at anypony so much in my life,” Redheart continued with a gulp. “The things I said to him… I don’t want those to be the last words we ever exchanged. But… I don’t think I’d be able to face him anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Pinkie asked, softly but confused.

“I became a nurse to save ponies, to help them,” Redheart explained, “and yet in less than two weeks I passed judgement on three ponies, resulting in their deaths. I turned that dial, I’m just as responsible for their deaths as the Mastermind, how am I supposed to face him or anypony knowing that?”

“It is not your fault,” Pinkie insisted, “if you didn’t vote, we all would have died. It wasn’t easy for any of us, but we still did it, not because we wanted them to die, but because we had no choice if we wanted to survive.”

“She’s right,” Cloudchaser chipped in, “we have to make tough decisions if we’re going to get out of here. Besides, they were murderers.”

“In medicine,” Redheart began, her voice turning icy, “we don’t care what a pony has done. They could be a royal guard injured in duty or a criminal injured during a heist. We treat them just the same; no different than if they were male or female, earth pony, Pegasus or unicorn. But then, I wouldn’t expect somepony in your profession to understand anything about that.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Cloudchaser demanded, her wings flaring out. “You think just because I sleep with ponies for money I don’t have morals! Let me ask you something, how much work do you think a Pegasus gets when she can’t even fly high or far because she gets too cold too fast? The answer is not a lot. Now how much less work do you think that same Pegasus gets when she’s the full time career for her younger sister who can barely feed herself because of a brain disorder? I came here because I received a letter, offering a shit ton of money for my services, money that could have gone a long way in affording full time care for Flitter. Am I proud of what I do for a living? Hell no! But if it means keeping a roof over Flitters head then so be it. But don’t you ever imply that just because of my job, I don’t care about others!”

Pinkie was frozen in stunned silence; Redheart was looking at her hooves in shame.

“I’m sorry,” Redheart whispered, “I didn’t know.”

“Because you didn’t ask!” Cloudchaser spat back. “Nopony ever asks, they just make their assumptions and treat them like fact!”

Redheart didn’t respond, Pinkie couldn’t blame her, had she been in her position she wouldn’t have known what to say either.

“You know what,” Cloudchaser said bitterly after a long silence. “Forget the wine, I don’t really care anymore.”

And with that she stormed out of the room, leaving a very guilty looking Redheart and a very uncomfortable feeling Pinkie in her wake.

“I don’t think there’s anything left to find here,” Redheart said, her voice devoid of all emotion as she stood up.

Pinkie nodded silently, standing up as well as Redheart left the room. Soon Pinkie was alone in the master bedroom, hundreds of thoughts swimming around her skull.

“Ugh!” Pinkie groaned, collapsing to the floor in frustration.

Everypony was in such a good mood, how did it turn so sour?

Pinkie rolled onto her side, her face pointed under the bed, and she immediately forgot all about Redheart and Cloudchaser.

A box, a large trunk lying under the bed. Reaching forward, Pinkie grasped the edges of the box and slid it out. It was heavy; Pinkie couldn’t tell if it was because of the box itself or its contents. It was a fairly expensive looking trunk, like something ponies in Canterlot would use for carrying their luggage, and despite how otherwise insignificant it looked, Pinkie couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of familiarity towards it. The trunk was locked with two clasps, and luckily neither appeared to be locked.

Undoing them, Pinkie felt the lid spring slightly, and braced herself as she opened it up.

Day 12, 14:42

Everypony get your flanks to the master bedroom right now!

Pinkie had hoped that message sounded urgent enough when she sent it, and now after everypony had rushed in after mere minutes of pressing send, she was quite sure it had done the job.

“Well Pinkie,” Vinyl asked slightly impatiently, being the first to come speeding through the door. “What’s the big news?”

“I just found this under the bed,” Pinkie stated flatly, gesturing to the trunk before her. All eyes focused down on it.

“Sherioushly?” Gizmo said, “Nopony thought to check under the bed?”

“Well I didn’t see you diving under there,” Vinyl muttered, disgruntled.

“So what’s inside?” Fleur asked curiously.

“Well…” Pinkie began hesitantly, before deciding she could just let them see for themselves, and opened the trunk.

Everypony gasped at what was inside.

“Is that…” Trixie began.

“It is,” Pinkie confirmed.

Trixie reached in with her hooves, as if forgetting she had magic out of sheer shock. Standing back up, she held out her forehooves, within which was cradled a skull. Well most of a skull, the top half of the cranium seemed to have been lost at some point, or it was lying amongst the rest of the pony skeleton occupying the trunk.

“What in Equestria is a skeleton doing in a box, under a bed, behind a locked door?” Soarin asked in disbelief, leaning down to examine the other bones.

“I have no idea,” Pinkie admitted.

“Well, who’s skeleton is it?” Cloudchaser asked, sounding like she had either gotten over or forgotten what had taken place not long before.

“I have no idea,” Pinkie repeated.

“You don’t think,” Vinyl began, looking over to Trixie. “This is the body that went missing from the crypt?”

“Orchid?” Trixie stated, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe, although this skull is missing a horn… as well as a few other parts.”

“Maybe it’s in amongst here,” Soarin proposed.

“Maybe,” Fleur agreed looking to Redheart. “Redheart, do you think you’d be able to figure anything out about it?”

“I think I could,” Redheart confirmed, “but I’d need it taken somewhere with good light and a lot of space to lay everything out.”

“How about the gym?” Soarin proposed. “Plenty of space down there.”

“Yes that will do,” Redheart assured them.

“Alright then,” Fleur said, “Let’s get this moved down stairs.”

Day 12, 22:00

Pinkie Pie entered the gym, stifling a yawn. She was just about ready for bed but wanted to have one last look in to see how the others were doing reassembling the skeleton. As she entered the room she found Redheart, Trixie and Fleur all standing around the bones.

None of them are doing anything, maybe they’re finished.

Walking over Pinkie found the bones had been arranged on the floor to resemble a near complete pony skeleton. The first thing she noticed was the lack of wings, the second thing being the still incomplete skull.

“So what do we think?” Pinkie asked, announcing her presence.

“Well,” Redheart began, “it is possible it’s a Pegasus, and that all that wing bones have been removed, but that’s unlikely. It’s probably more likely to be a unicorn or an earth pony, however without the missing section of skull, that’s purely up to guesswork.”

“There are also ribs and other small bones missing,” Trixie explained, “as well as that, most of the bones seem to have degraded quite a lot. It’s quite possible the top half of the skull is broken and missing due to natural causes.”

“But do you believe that’s what happened?” Pinkie asked curiously.

“Trixie does not know what to believe,” Trixie admitted. “But then, Trixie is fairly tired.”

“We can come back to this tomorrow,” Fleur pointed out. “You both did a good job; you should go get some rest now.”

Trixie and Redheart both nodded, leaving the gym together.

“This just keeps getting more complicated by the second,” Fleur commented before turning and leaving herself.

Now alone with the skeleton once more, Pinkie crouched down, examining the skull closely.

I suppose it could have just come off over time, but if it didn’t, why would anypony break the horn off a unicorn?

Day 13, 09:16

“So in conclusion,” Cloudchaser said with a mouth full of toast. “We don’t know who the skeleton is.”

“Unfortunately,” Trixie admitted, dully stirring her tea.

“Well why don’t we take this day off just to relax?” Cloudchaser suggested. “No worrying about skeletons and missing ponies.”

“What would you suggest?” Pinkie asked.

“Well why don’t we get wood brought in, and get fires ready in the games room and parlour,” Cloudchaser began, “we spend the afternoon in the games room, and the evening in the parlour.”

“You know what…” Trixie began sounding disgruntled, “that sounds like a very welcome idea.”

“Great,” Cloudchaser exclaimed, while everypony else looked at Trixie in surprise. “Guys, can you give me a hoof getting the fires ready?”

“Sure,” Soarin said having just finished his breakfast.

“Alright, but I’ve gotta come back here straight after to get the kitchen cleaned,” Braeburn stated.

The three left the room, and Pinkie turned to Trixie.

“You think taking a day off is a good idea?” Pinkie asked in disbelief.

“Trixie’s head is fried,” Trixie explained, “we’re getting nowhere and quite frankly, Trixie needs a break.”

“Fair enough,” Pinkie said, swallowing a spoonful of cereal.

“Can we go work on the staircase for a little while this morning before we head on over there?” Vinyl asked eagerly. “Last night I had a brainwave, and I want to try it out.”

“I suppose,” Trixie agreed, sounding disinterested.

“What about you girls?” Pinkie asked, looking over at Fleur and Redheart.

“I am going to look for Gizmo,” Fleur said curtly, “his constant disappearances have gotten to the point where I no longer think it’s safe to have him unaccounted for.”

“I can help with that if you want,” Redheart offered.

“Would you?” Fleur asked. “If I check the upper floors could you search this one?”

“Sure,” Redheart said, standing up. “I’ll get right on it.”

Once those two had left, Pinkie, Vinyl and Trixie were left alone. The only sound being the slurping of Trixie with her cup of tea.

“Alright,” Trixie said at last, “shall we go test your brainwave?”

Day 13, 11:19

“Dammit!” Vinyl exclaimed, her horn extinguishing. “I was sure that was going to do it.”

“It was a valiant effort,” Trixie admitted, “but now we must stop, Trixie needs to rest.”

“Yeah alright,” Vinyl said, sounding disappointed.

“Don’t worry,” Pinkie began, “we can continue tomorrow, and I’m sure we’ll make progress.”

Just as the words left Pinkie's mouth, she felt her tail begin to twitch violently.

Twitchy tail? That means...

“Yeah, maybe you’re…” Vinyl began, only to be cut off by a deafening smashing noise echoing down the corridor into the entrance hall.

“What in Tartarus was that?!” Vinyl exclaimed, clutching her chest.

“Sounded like it came from the kitchen or the dining room,” Pinkie pointed out.

Not wasting any time, all three ponies galloped up the steps, charging towards the source of the noise. As they drew closer to the dining room, Pinkie found a thousand worrying thoughts spinning around her mind, but as they rounded the doorway into the dining room, all those thoughts were dismissed by a far worse reality.

The crystal chandelier was no longer attached to the ceiling; instead it was now lying in the centre of the wreckage that was once the dining table. And barely visible beneath the shambles of metal and crystal, were four light gold hooves, a brown cowboy hat, lying discarded on the floor.

Pinkie could only whisper, “Oh Braeburn…”

Author's Notes:

Let the wild accusations begin!
I have no idea when the next part will be up... maybe... hopefully... Friday (?)