"If you were one of my Guards, I'd have you behind a desk for three years for the stunt you just pulled!" Lieutenant Coonhound shouted, his mustache bristling as he spoke. "You recklessly endangered yourself and the other Guards, and nearly got yourself killed!"

"And I've learned my lesson, Lieutenant," Daring Do replied dryly, sitting across from him in his office at the City Guard headquarters, her foreleg and shoulder newly bandaged.

"I certainly hope you have!" Coonhound barked, sitting back down forcefully. He glared at her for a few seconds more, then finally let out a low sigh.

"Right. Now that I've officially reprimanded you, I'd now like to commend you for your bravery." A smile crossed his face. "You did well, Daring Do."

"It's what I do best," Daring grinned back momentarily before returning to seriousness. "There's one other thing, though."

"I know. Rest assured, your secret will be safe with us. As far as anypony else knows, the City Guard of Trottingham was aided by civilian specialists Irene Alibi and Phillip Finder."

"Good," Daring nodded in thanks.

Coonhound sighed, brushing aside some papers on his desk. "Now that our killer has been taken care of, maybe we should refocus on the theft of the Taverneigh Blue."

"I know who we should start with," Daring said. "The obvious suspect."

Double Checklist lived in an apartment building a few blocks south of the Museum. Clad once more in the dark blue coat and dark glasses, Daring Do accompanied Corporal Shield up three flights of stairs and down a carpeted hallway towards room number 38.

"I should have focused on him from the start," Shield muttered to himself as they approached. "He even admitted that he was the only one besides the doctors that had a key to that box."

"We both had other priorities at the time," Daring replied, knocking at the door. "Mr. Checklist?"

There was no reply from inside. Daring knocked harder. "Mr. Checklist!" Again, nothing.

"I'd say that's probable cause," Corporal Shield grunted. Turning about, he wound up and bucked the door open with a loud crash. "Ladies first," Shield said, gesturing for Daring to go first.

Daring walked into the apartment, passing through the front hall and into the den, which was furnished with a couple of sofas, a bookcase and an oak coffee table. Daring ran her hoof over the coffee table, marking the thin layer of dust atop it. There was no sign of Checklist anywhere.

"You think he ran?" Corporal Shield asked.

"I'm not—" Daring started to say, then stopped and sniffed, suddenly aware of a pungent odor at her nostrils. "Do you smell that?"

Shield sniffed at the air, following the scent to the bedroom. The door was slightly open, as if in hesitant invitation. Slowly, as if he didn't really want to see the hidden secret for himself, Shield pushed the door open. The sight inside made him groan quietly. "Oh, no."

Double Checklist was hanging from a rafter at the foot of his bed, his noose constructed from his own bedsheets. An overturned chair was at his hooves, next to an empty bottle of cider. The body was purple and green with lividity and rot, and the bloated eyes and tongue protruded from its face, making him look simultaneously horrific and pitiful; he had been dead for a couple of days at least.

There was a neatly folded note lying on the top of the dresser. Daring entered the room, ignoring the scent of decay that stung at her eyes and nose, opened up the suicide note and read:

To Whom It May Concern,

This is my confession. My one last, pathetic attempt to set right what I have done.

I stole the Taverneigh Blue. It wasn't the only thing I stole. For years, almost from the day I'd started working as the head of security at the History Museum, I've been stealing artifacts and other valuables from them. Pretty much every time that some valuable coins or priceless historical icon went "missing," that was me. I even helped one of his henchponies break in to steal the Mare Lisa. But I didn't steal them for myself.

I stole them for Charlie August Silvertongue. You know him, the art collector with the bodyguards. He blackmailed me into doing what he wanted; I have a lot of skeletons in my closet from my youth—drugs and gangs—that he threatened to pull out and show off to everypony if I didn't play along.

So when he contacted me and told me to steal the Taverneigh Blue, it was just another job. He even told me how to do it. He had a friend of his construct a box that looked the same as the one that the Maorein used, only it had a special fake bottom on a hinge. When the diamond was put into the box and the key was inserted and turned a certain way—that was my job, as the head of security—the fake bottom would snap down and cover the diamond. When the box was opened again, it would look like it was empty when the diamond was still inside, hidden beneath the fake bottom. Later, I would sneak into the vault, turn the key a special way to open the false bottom again, take the diamond out, and drop it off in exchange for my payment. Just another job.

At least, that's what I thought it was going to be. And then ponies started dying. Innocent ponies were murdered over this.

I'm not stupid. I knew Charlie had something to do with it, but he never said anything about it to me. Believe me, if I had known, I would never had gone along with it. I may have lied to and stolen from them, but Stone Scribe, Dry Bones and Main Exhibit were my friends; they gave me a second chance when I had nowhere else to go. When they were killed, I knew that this was it; I had to get out.

But I can't go up against Charlie. His lawyers would have any case I brought up against him thrown out of court, and I'd end up in a cell for my crimes...if I was lucky. Unlucky meant sleeping with the fishes in Whitestone River. And if I run, he'll just hunt me down and put me in the ground. Either way, I'm screwed. As long as I'm still breathing, Charlie owns me, body, mind and soul.

So I'm getting out my own way. The only way I know how.

I'm truly sorry for everything that I've done, and everything that I've been a part of. Maybe God will have mercy on me. Whatever He gives me, it's more than I deserve.

Double Checklist.

Daring stared at the suicide note for several seconds of silence, a feeling of constriction pressing against her chest. One more. The curse of the Taverneigh Blue, the curse of greed, had claimed one more.

He had to be the last one. Wordlessly, she passed the note to Corporal Shield, a feeling like fire spreading through her constricted chest. "We need to get a warrant."

Two hours later, Daring Do led a squadron of City Guards up a hill, armored hooves clacking against the pavement. Up at the top of a hill was a sprawling white mansion, blocked off by a high iron gate set in a brick wall.

Reaching the gate, Daring rang the doorbell, triggering a loud clanging of brass bells from somewhere within the interior of the grounds. A moment later, a dark blue pegasus dressed in a dark suit and tie flapped down and landed on the other side of the gates, glaring at them in suspicion. There was the distinctive bulge of a holster beneath the suit.

"Open this gate!" Corporal Shield ordered, holding up the signed warrant for the bodyguard to see. Scowling, the bodyguard turned away for a moment and spoke quietly into the walkie-talkie. An indistinct answer came a moment later. The guard paused, glancing up at Daring, then muttering back in reply. After a moment of brief indecision, he walked back to the gate and pulled a lever on his side, causing the gates to swing open.

"Mr. Silvertongue will speak with you," the pegasus grunted. "Please follow me." He led them up the pathway towards the mansion, flanked on both sides by trimmed bushes. Stepping up to the wide oak doors, the bodyguard knocked at the golden knockers. A moment later, the doors opened wide to reveal a middle-aged unicorn with a brown coat, red hair with a full beard, and silvery-blue eyes dressed in a pale silver suit with a blue tie. His cutie mark was a silver statue of a pony rearing up on its hind legs.

"Good morning, gentleponies, lady," Charlie August Silvertongue greeted them. "I'm sorry to tell you that you have wasted your time coming here."

"This signed warrant says otherwise," Iron Shield said, thrusting the paper into the art collector's face.

Silvertongue looked at the warrant for a long moment, then smirked. "I believe my lawyer would say otherwise."

A skinny, white-maned unicorn wearing a gray suit and tie and wearing a thick pair of glasses appeared at Silvertongue's side. "This warrant is null and void," he declared, stealing the warrant from Shield's grasp and tearing it in half with his magic.

"What?! How can you say that?" Shield demanded. "I took me almost an hour to get Judge Gavel to sign that!"

"Judge Gavel made a serious error in judgement," the lawyer replied flatly. "The only basis you have for this warrant is a suicide note from a confessed thief, accusing my client of being involved in a theft. This is hearsay evidence; my client has the right to be confronted with the witnesses against him. As you have only the word of a dead pony, who may have been attempting to deflect suspicion away from himself by accusing another, you have no probable cause to use against my client. This warrant is useless, and if you attempt to act in any way against my client, your department will face lawsuit for false arrest and harassment."

"Which means you can get off of my property and stop wasting my time," Silvertongue said, glaring directly at Daring Do. Daring held his gaze steadily.

The Guards muttered amongst themselves for a few seconds, then slowly disbanded, hesitantly walking back down the pathway. Shield glowered at the lawyer, then followed his squad, grumbling. Daring followed reluctantly.

"One moment, please, ma'am," Silvertongue called after her. Daring paused and looked back to see the art-collector beckoning her back towards him. She slowly walked back up the steps to face him. Behind her, Corporal Shield paused and watched silently in confusion.

"What do you want?" she asked curtly.

Silvertongue gestured for the lawyer to leave them. The pegasus bodyguard remained, standing at his master's side. As soon as the attorney was out of earshot, Silvertongue spoke quietly. "Let's not stand on pretense here, Daring Do."

Daring scowled. "I know it was you," she accused him. "You hired that hyena. Checklist was your lackey; he wouldn't have had the contacts to hire an assassin. But you would.

"And you told that freak to kill those innocent ponies, and to keep killing them until it drew me and Phillip out into the open; you knew we wouldn't be able to resist a case like this." She rose up right into Charlie's face. The bodyguard started forward to push her away, but his boss stopped him. "You're responsible for the deaths of almost twenty ponies. You almost killed my friend."

"Really," Charlie smirked, eerily calm in the face of her fury. "Why don't you prove it?"

Daring clenched her jaw in anger, but was unable to answer. She could only glare at the murderer, stewing in her helpless hatred, boiling over underneath his superior gaze.

"You can't, can you?" Charlie hissed, his snake-like smirk growing wider. "And it infuriates you, doesn't it?" His smile slowly disappeared. "I think you've wasted enough of my time. Either do what you came to do or leave me in peace."

All of a sudden, time seemed to stop around Daring Do. Everything disappeared, everything except for the killer, herself, and the burning, itching sensation in her hooves. The blood in her veins, the blood spilled over the past two weeks, seemed to scream within her, cry out for vengeance. She must forgo the consequences of her actions; she must put her hooves around Charlie Silvertongue's neck and squeeze, crush his throat in her grip.

She must avenge his victims, collect the repayment that was due: eye for an eye, life for a life.

She must. Her hooves lifted off the ground. Her breath burned in her chest, her heart racing.

She must!

She couldn't. She couldn't be like him.

Slowly, she backed away, continuing to glower at him, determined not to show any sign of defeat. Her hooves felt like they were on fire. "You're a rat, Charlie," she spat. "A thief and a murderer. But one day, you'll slip up. And when you do, I'll be there!" And with that, she turned on her heels and trotted quickly back down the path, disappearing from sight.

With a quiet sigh, Charlie retreated back into his mansion, the doors slamming shut behind him. Trotting down the hallway past his precious paintings and sculptures, he reached his study. The bodyguard outside opened the door for him and he entered his vast study. Instantly, his nostrils were assaulted with the scent of Saddle Arabian tobacco, wafting from the goldleaf cigarette held in a golden magical aura.

"I hope I'm not intruding," said the unicorn stallion sitting in the chair in front of the desk, casually smoothing out his suit.

Charlie scowled. "Of course not." He slowly trotted around to the cabinet behind the desk and extracted a bottle of Prench champagne. "May I offer you a glass?"

"Nein, danke," Zugzwang replied, puffing on his cigarette. "I prefer Beerenauslese; the best wine from the best grapes."

With a quiet grunt of acknowledgement, Silvertongue filled a glass with the sparkling, honey-colored liquid and took a long sip, resisting the urge to guzzle the whole thing down right away. "I'm a busy pony, Zugzwang, and I know you did not come to discuss wines."

Zugzwang stared silently at him for several seconds, his expression unreadable behind the smoke of his cigarette.

"First of all, I wished to congratulate you," he finally said. "Your theft of the Taverneigh Blue was an exceptional piece of work; I could hardly have done better."

"Thank you," Silvertongue replied, unable to tear his gaze away from the empty black abysses of Zugzwang's eyes. The darkness that seemed to stretch on forever stared back at him, cold and unfeeling.

"Secondly, I would also like you to know how fortunate you are," Zugzwang continued.

Charlie blinked. "Fortunate? In what way?"

"That Phillip Finder and Daring Do are still alive," Zugzwang answered. The tone of his voice had not changed at all, but a sudden chill entered the room as he spoke, the lights seeming to dim.

Scowling, Silvertongue set his glass down on the desk. "Both of those ponies have proven a great annoyance to the both of us, repeatedly: they have damaged our operations and inconvenienced us dozens of times! You should be thanking me for attempting to solve our mutual problem!"

Zugzwang slowly set his still-smoking cigarette down onto the desk, his eyes never leaving Silvertongue's. "First of all, you made a very common and very idiotic mistake: you tried to kill them. Both of our friends are very, very good at staying alive, so trying to kill them only makes them angry.

"Secondly, whatever injuries they have rendered unto you, they have harmed me a dozen times more. They are my concern, Mr. Silvertongue."

"Do you honestly expect me to—" Charlie started to say, but Zugzwang cut him off.

"Vengeance is mine, Mr. Silvertongue; I will repay."

It was quite clear from the thunderous tone that no argument would be accepted. Silvertongue slowly lowered himself into his seat, staring into his honored guests's eyes. "What do you want?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice even.

"You may continue to pursue your business ventures, but remember this: Phillip Finder and those close to him are my responsibility. They are not to be harmed. Not yet." Zugzwang retrieved his cigarette and closed his eyes to take a puff, apparently enjoying the taste of the scented tobacco.

"What do you have in mind?" Silvertongue asked.

A smile crossed Zugzwang's face, but the abyssal black eyes did not change. "Trust me, mein freund," he said quietly. "You don't want to know."

Once more, Daring Do trotted through the too-clean hallways of the Trottingham Hospital, ascending the stairways up to the fourth floor. Every step was slow, as if she was deliberately trying to delay the inevitable.

While the warrant was being prepared earlier, for the first time in a long time, she had had some time to think; about herself, about Phillip, and about their relationship. And everything pointed to just one conclusion; there was only one path of action that made any sense.

She stopped outside Phillip's room. It was time for her to do what she needed...and yet, she felt like she would infinitely prefer going into one of Ahuizotl's deathtrap-filled temples than having to face the pony inside that hospital room.

With a final breath, she walked into the door and found herself face-to-face with Phillip. He was looking better: some of his bandages had been removed and he was able to fully sit up in bed now, which enabled him to glare at her with a look of deep disapproval.

"I know what you're going to say, and I already heard it from Coonhound," she cut him off, entering and closing the door behind them. "I know, I know, I made a stupid and reckless decision going after it by myself. But be honest—you'd have done the same thing."

Phillip looked like he was going to argue, but apparently couldn't think of anything to say and instead opted to continue glaring at her for a moment before sighing. "I'm just glad you're okay," he said quietly with the faintest of smiles.

"I always make it back okay," Daring replied with a small smirk. A flicker of warmth spread through her core for the briefest of moments, but then she remembered why she was there and what she had to say. The smile disappeared from her face, and she took a short breath.

"Phil..." She almost choked on the words, but forced herself to keep going. "We can't do this anymore. We can't be together."

"What? Why not?" Phil asked, a look of surprise and pain crossing his face.

"Because you almost died! Because I wasn't there for you when you needed me!" Daring burst out. Her frustration boiled over; she should have known he'd react like this, should have known he wouldn't understand, and now everything was going wrong as always.

"When we worked together, we both almost died dozens of times," Phillip protested. "I can't count the number of times—"

"Things have changed! We're not getting any younger, Phil. What happens the next time? What if I'm too slow, or I get distracted? What if you..." She hissed in a breath of pain and let it out slowly, allowing her gaze to drop.

"We're not going to stop doing what we do; it's what we're best at. But I can't lose you like that. And that's why we can't be together." Daring Do slowly got up and turned, starting to walk away, her head hung low.

"Daring Do, don't you dare take another step."

The order froze Daring right in her tracks and she slowly turned around to look at Phillip, whose gaze was like an endless gray horizon. His voice as he spoke was quiet, but came with the force of an oncoming storm front.

"If you think I'm just going to lie here and let you walk away from me, you don't know me at all," he said. "We both lead very dangerous lives; we both have to deal with death a lot; and yes, we both have made a lot of mistakes. Mistakes that we'd give anything to take back.

"But you know the biggest mistake that I've ever made in my life?" He paused for a moment, then answered himself: "Trying to go it alone. It's only recently that I found out that I couldn't do it. Nopony can. We all fall down from time to time...which is why we all need somepony to help us get back up."

Phillip sat up and reached out with his good hoof. Slowly, despite the protests of her intellect, Daring Do turned and walked back to him, taking his hoof in her own. The warmth of his touch felt better than any cold stone artifact.

"Some things have changed," he said gently, holding her gaze as his eyes, usually so dark and cold, shone like the rising sun. "But I'm still me, and you are still you. And you always were and still are one of the few good things in my life. Which is why no matter what happens—come hell or high water—I will stick with you." He gently pulled Daring in close and raised his hoof to stroke her cheek.

"I love you, Daring Do."

Daring's eyes watered with emotion, but a trace of fear remained; she felt as though she was standing on a precipice of a cliff, rocks falling into the treacherous unknown.

But she was Daring Do. Adventure was in her blood and soul, and she did not allow fear to tame her. So, like always, she jumped right in. With a wavering smile, she leaned in close and kissed Phillip on the lips.

"I love you too, you stupid idiot," she admitted, wiping at her face. She sat back down next to him, both of them content for a few moments with nothing more than each other.

"You know, somepony still owes me Ponytailian," Daring said after a minute.

Phillip chuckled once. "It might have to wait a while. I don't think they'll let me leave yet."

"Well, hell, I don't have anyplace I really need to go for a while," Daring said.

"You sure you don't have an ancient treasure to go find?"

"They've waited a few hundred years. They can wait a little longer." Daring kissed Phillip on the forehead. "This is more important."

Smiling happily, Phillip hugged her tight with his good foreleg and nuzzled into her neck, breathing deep the perfume of her mane. She pressed her head against him, comforted by the rise and fall of his chest. For once, there were no scars, no pain, no curses or death.

This treasure they had was better than any she had found before.

Author's Notes:

And that closes the book on this chapter. Not really sure about this ending—romance was never one of my favorite categories—but I hope that you all enjoyed reading The Curse of the Taverneigh Blue!

I'll have the next story up soon. Stay awesome, mates!