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Curse, Bless Me Now

by Pascoite

Chapter 1: Curse, Bless Me Now


The cute mare seated near the end of the bar had been watching me for a good ten minutes. I tried to keep a disinterested gaze directed down at the oaken counter. Play it cool, but I couldn’t keep a smile locked away forever. After tossing back the last of my cider, I turned to look at her again, but found her already walking toward me. She slid into the seat next to me, winked, and said in a deep, scratchy baritone, “Hey, sleeping beauty. Do that on your own time.”

I blinked hard and raised an eyebrow at her. Leaning in a little closer, she brushed her forelock out of her eyes and opened her mouth to speak again.

A loud thud sounded directly in front of me. My eyes snapped open, awash in sunlight, as I tilted back in my chair past the tipping point and crashed to the floor. I rubbed my horn and shook my head to stir up the dust inside, then looked up at Stakeout and the file folder he’d flung onto my desk. “Nap time’s over, junior,” he growled through his one-sided smile.

“Yeah. Sorry.” I righted my chair and plopped back into it, the springs creaking their protest like a raven squatting over some shiny bit of foil he found. “What’s this?” I flipped open the folder’s cover and leafed through the first few typewritten pages.

“Your new case, Gumshoe. It’s time. We’ve gotta pick up the slack.” Everypony had been tap dancing around that particular topic lately, especially with me. Golden Shield hadn’t turned up in over two months. Two months of working cases all by myself, avoiding my usual watering hole because of the empty stool there’d be beside me. It hadn’t been easy, just not knowing.

Everypony felt like they couldn’t even talk about it much, I guess. Or they couldn’t get themselves to. Sure, we’d all asked around his usual haunts, checked with his neighbors, discreetly inquired with the bank to see if he’d withdrawn all his money to get away to a tropical paradise. Kept an eye out for his face on a crowded street or in a shadowed corner. Especially the beat cops—they were told to leave no stone unturned, in case he’d gotten sick or hurt and couldn’t put two thoughts together to find help. It just left us all scratching our heads, and nopony knew what else to do.

I’d even found myself poking through the dump once or twice, if… No. I hadn’t told anypony else about that. They look at me funny enough already without thinking my mind goes places that dark. Not in Equestria. That kind of thing didn’t happen here. I couldn’t shake the thought from my head, though, and it made my skin crawl. But the rest of the force could shrug their shoulders and go back to their business. They didn’t smile, at least. I had to give them that. And they didn’t bring it up around me. Maybe they did know.

Of course, Golden Shield’s urgent cases had gotten assigned immediately to other detectives, but the lesser ones had languished until somepony up the chain of command decided that it was time to admit he wasn’t coming back. Which, apparently, was now. “You get the gem. Enjoy.” He relished that a little too much.

Taking the folder, I swiveled around to face out the window, where the spires of Canterlot Castle towered above the city. Some were close enough that the early afternoon sun glanced off the stained-glass windows and spilled colorful dots all over the case reports. Check that—my case reports. I flipped right past the boilerplate forms. Everypony knows those are useless. Behind them were a few newspaper clippings. The first one—“Rare Colt Born in Canterlot”—finally jogged my memory.

The Curse. How could I forget? Shield had always worked that one himself. Said a young guy like me shouldn’t have to deal with that sort of thing, but he wouldn’t tell me what or why. I got more from the media than from him about it.

Oh, well. Gotta start somewhere. I pulled that column out from under its paperclip and unfolded it, along with Golden Shield’s notes about it.

Always a stickler for detail, that one, and about weird things. Come in on a cold day with one of my coat buttons undone, and he wouldn’t care. Come in the next day with a different one open, and he couldn’t sit still. So of course I did it on purpose once in a while. Makes me feel bad about it now. Turns out he was a great partner. All the younger detectives wish they could have gotten him, and I lucked into it, but hey, if life wanted to throw me a softball, I wasn’t going to complain about it.

I lingered on his writing for a few seconds longer. Nice, loopy… and familiar. What in Tartarus had happened to him? I glanced up at the castle again. Did the Princesses know? Could Princess Luna find him dreaming in some alley, knocked senseless?

Yeah. For two months. Either he’d found something a whole lot better to do, or… No. He loved this job. He thought he was doing his little part to help out. Maybe I picked that up from him? Naw. I’ve always felt like I owed the Princesses something, even before I joined the force, but I don’t know why.

So if he hadn’t left on his own, then maybe… kidnapped, or… No. I couldn’t think that way. Anything worse—that didn’t happen in Equestria. It didn’t.

Anyway. Golden Shield’s notes. He’d taken down very detailed witness accounts, even about that newspaper column. Tracked down the doctor in it and everything. I could almost see it in my head.


“Push, Blaze! You’re doing great.”

The mare lying in the bed gritted her teeth and took a sharp breath in through her nose. Shaking with effort, she bore down, finally ending with a gasp as more beads of sweat ran down her face.

“I can see a muzzle! C’mon, Blaze! Almost there.”

Star Blaze gave one last push, then collapsed into exhausted laughter as she heard an indignant cry. “What—what is it?” she asked, her legs trembling.

“It’s a unicorn, dear!” Star Streak answered with a huge grin. “A colt! Hi there, little Star Shine! Welcome to Equestria.”

A nurse wrapped the foal in a blanket and carried him over to a scale to write down his measurements. “Pulse good, lungs sound good.” She unwrapped one corner of the blanket. “Four little hooves,” she added, smiling. “Coat: white. Mane and tail: white.”

She jerked her hoof away with a start and gingerly reached back over to pry an eye open. “He’s... he’s... albino!” she screeched, her pen falling to the floor with a clatter. She backed out the door, never taking her eyes off the colt, and galloped down the hallway.

“Honestly!” remarked the doctor. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “To think that in this day and age...”

“Wh-what’s wrong?” asked Star Streak, a hoof raised to his mouth. “What does that mean?”

The doctor practically growled. “Absolutely nothing. It’s an old mares’ tale. Albinos are quite rare, and some believe that they’re haunted by evil spirits. It’s utter nonsense. I’ve seen several in my time. Never a unicorn, but there was nothing wrong with any of them.” Smiling, he patted Star Blaze on the shoulder. “Congratulations on your son. Now, excuse me for a moment. I’m going to have a word with her supervisor.”

As he stalked out, the remaining nurse carried Star Shine over to meet his parents.


I stared out the window for a moment, imagining myself with a little rugrat. I’d always thought I’d want to have foals some day, but who has time for a relationship? Between recruit training, detective school, and working the past year as a member of the Canlerlot Police Department, I was barely likely to encounter my landlord’s scowling face, much less some pretty thing who might be willing to put up with me.

Back to the folder, then. The next thing in there was a stack of incident reports. More than a dozen. The first two were from over a year ago, but the rest were all filed within the past eight months, including three that had been stuffed in the folder after Golden Shield had gone missing. Remarkably consistent, all of them. A pony would be attacked by an unseen assailant and left unconscious, his skin shriveled as if dehydrated, and his coat flecked with gray. It didn’t sound like anything I’d ever encountered before. Sure, ponies’ memories can be unreliable, but having so many agree in that level of detail made it pass the sniff test in my book.

Two of the earliest victims had been the colt’s parents. And the colt himself, on at least three occasions. These cookie-cutter reports just wouldn’t do the job, though. The first riddled with the usual spelling errors and uninspired monosyllables of the front desk staff, and the rest made liberal use of ditto marks. No way I’d get anywhere with these.

Except one note scrawled in the margin of the final one Golden Shield had made: Last one cinches it. Nopony had figured out what that meant. Nopony had really tried. Last what, though? He’d circled the dates on those reports, and on the one with his note, he’d written in two more dates, one a few days before, and the other a little over a week after the typewritten one. I sure recognized it. Nopony had seen him since then.

Tossing the papers back onto the mess in front of me, I reclined in my seat and rubbed a hoof on my chin. The sun had advanced a bit more across the sky, and the multicolored spots coming from the castle windows had migrated over to my desk. I always wondered if the Princesses climbed those towers and looked down over the city. Did they watch us to make sure we did a good job? I have to think they could solve most crimes pretty quickly if they had a mind to, but I guess they had more important things to do. I smiled back up at the nearest spire in case Princess Celestia was looking now. I’m trying my best. I really am.

With the sinking feeling that often comes from acting instead of just planning to act, I rose to my hooves, grabbed my hat and coat, and headed for the door. Oh! Forgot one thing—I stepped back to check the paperwork one last time and verify the Star family’s address. Rural area a short way out of the city. Perfect. I let my mind wander too much as it is. A walk in the country wasn’t going to help matters.


An hour later, I strolled up to a two-level house set back against the forest. A neatly kept lawn and flowerbeds surrounded the front, and the neighbors’ homes stood a good distance away through a screen of trees. It was easy to see how big those things were. Mansions? I don’t know. Sure, compared to my little apartment, they might as well be. So someone like me could be all properly impressed from the road, at a safe distance. I think I remember reading something about separation like that making good neighbors.

I stepped up onto the brick porch and knocked on the door while levitating my badge out of my coat pocket. Immediately, a small dog started yapping and scratching at the other side of the door.

“Max! Hush!” rang out a voice from inside. “Get back in the kitchen!” A light click-click of toenails on hardwood receded into the distance as a stallion opened the door. “Yes?”

“Mr. Star Streak? I’m Detective Gumshoe from the Canterlot Police Department,” I said, holding my badge up. “I’ve been assigned your case while Golden Shield is... away.”

“Oh!” he replied, blinking hard as his shoulders relaxed. “I hadn’t heard anything in a while. I was afraid you’d given up. Please come in.” He led me to a couch in the sitting room and motioned toward it as he took the chair facing me. “Can I offer you something to drink, detective?”

“No, thanks.” I waved a hoof and smiled, running my eyes over the dark-stained cherry furnishings, brass fixtures, and well-stocked bookcases. Nice place. A lot of those things looked pristine, though. Yeah, they probably had a maid to keep everything clean, but the books didn’t seem to have any wear on them. Straight from the store to the shelf. And everything smelled new. A small dish on the coffee table held a bunch of wine corks, but they didn’t have any holes in them. And that nice chrome corkscrew didn’t have a single scratch or scuff on it.

“I just wanted to go over your incident report again. The official version isn’t exactly what I’d call useful, but Golden Shield did always keep a lot of that stuff in his own head, didn’t he?” Star Streak settled into his chair a little more easily. Yeah, Golden had a knack for putting ponies at ease. Even when he wasn’t there, I guess. “Can you describe what happened?”

He looked at the ceiling for a moment, then stared at the wall beside me. “I heard a sound like... whispering. Or rustling leaves. I was heading to bed, so I was groggy from napping on the sofa already. I just remember the hallway looking darker than it should. Next thing I know, I’m waking up with my wife, Star Blaze, staring down at me. She looked horrified.”

Streak hunched his shoulders up and shuddered. “I felt mostly okay, but a little weak. But when I saw myself in the mirror, I looked old. Very old. My skin was all wrinkly and shriveled, and I had gray streaks in my coat, mane, and tail.”

Yeah, that fit the pattern alright. Especially the part about the darkness. That always stuck in my head. What’d make that happen? Somepony turning out the lights to conceal themselves? Understandable, since all the victims were in good condition now and could otherwise identify their attacker. But so far, not a single one had seen anything. No color, no size, no nothing.

“Hm. You look fine now.” I floated out my pen and notepad from the inner pocket of my trenchcoat and scratched down a few details. Just in the event I ever got to dump this case on somepony else, he wouldn’t have to start almost from square one like I had.

“Blaze took me to the doctor the next day. He didn’t know what to make of it.” Shrugging, he leaned forward and looked me in the eye. “By the week after, I was back to normal.”

“There were no signs of a break-in?” I waved a hoof toward the door and turned to see if it showed any evidence of damage. But that was months ago—no way they’d leave such a thing in a spotless home like this.

“Oh, no. It wasn’t in this house, anyway.”

“Oh?” That detail had escaped my eye in the report. Not a good start.

“No. We used to live in the city, but... things got a little testy after a while.” Giving a grim smile, he fidgeted with his hooves like a lush trying to talk his way out of a bar tab. “After several of the neighbors were attacked, they didn’t exactly want us around anymore. They started believing in the curse and got scared. You… you know about the curse, right?” He’d looked down at the carpet, but now he rolled his eyes up at me and pursed his lips.

I nodded as I tipped my hat up a bit. “I don’t put much stock in that. Somepony’s taking advantage of it. And playing on a little colt’s fears will get him a quick introduction to the business end of my hoof before I haul him off to jail.”

Streak quickly gave a little snort of polite laughter. “We moved out here to keep some distance from others. It’s worked so far, in a way. But Shine has to live at school now. He’s in his first year at the School for Gifted Unicorns, and it’s too long a commute, so he’s boarding there. Whatever it is followed him. A couple of students were attacked.”

He held jittering hooves to his temples, and he lowered his head and spoke through gritted teeth. “I was scared for him, but at the same time, I thought he’d be safe. It’s never gotten anypony more than once so far, except for Shine—four times now! But just barely each time. Something’s toying with him. Something’s toying with him, but I… I can’t trust it’ll stay that way.” He reached a hoof toward me. “Please. I need to know that nothing will hurt him anymore. He’s m-my only son, my only child.”

I had to feel for him, but really, what could I say? “Yes, sir. We’ll keep him out of harm’s way.”

With a harsh squint to his eyes, Streak flicked a hoof toward the road. “Golden Shield assigned two officers to stand guard once the incidents at school began. It was our first evidence that somepony was following him. They never saw a thing, and yet three students were attacked. It’s been quiet since then, though. Maybe we scared whoever it was off.” He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. “The guards were reassigned after Shield went away. What happened to him anyway?”

“I-I don’t...” How much could I even tell him? I barely knew anything myself. “I don’t know exactly. A leave of absence, I guess. When was the last time you heard from him?”

Rolling his eyes upward for a moment, he answered, “I remember it because it was the last time we took Shine back to school after a weekend break. He walked Shine to his room, checked in with the two guards in the hallway, and left.”

At least that made my promise easier to keep. Whoever it was had left the colt alone since he’d returned to school. Maybe the crowds had made him inaccessible? But then why had other students fallen victim?

After jotting down a few more choice pieces of information, I flipped over to a fresh sheet. “Do you mind if I speak to Shine? Is he here?”

Star Streak shook his head again, then turned toward a faint growling sound in the hallway. “Max! Back in the kitchen!” he shouted, pointing a hoof. The little dog grudgingly obliged, taking the opportunity to get in one final grumble. “He’s been back at school for a couple of months now. Final exams are next week, then he’ll be home for the summer.”

“Since he’s a minor, I’ll need your permission to speak with him. I was planning on going by the school tomorrow. Is that okay?” I flipped my notepad shut and stowed it with my pen back in my pocket.

“Sure,” he replied. “Whatever will help.”

“And is Star Blaze around?”

“No. She’s gone shopping in town.”

I nodded, rubbing thoughtfully at my chin. That’s something they teach in detective training. Always look like the wheels are turning. Always look like you know exactly what’s going on. “I think that’ll do it, then. Thank you for your time,” I said, standing up and tipping my hat. “I’ll keep you updated if we learn anything new.” But a flash of color caught my eye: a photograph on the end table. I reached for it. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

The whole Star family, but a few years back, clearly. Shine looked too young to go to school yet, like the foals that gather around the front stoops near my place to play tag. Blaze had a school jacket on and her face painted in the team colors. Not the kind of thing I expected from these uptight folks. I let out a chuckle.

“My wife’s a huge booster for the school’s Magilympics team every year. She took a couple medals back in her day.” He shrugged, but at least he finally looked like any slight noise wouldn’t make him jump to the ceiling.

“You play, too?” I asked.

“No, I never had that much talent.”

“And your son?” I tapped a hoof on the glass.

“Takes after me, I’m afraid,” he replied with a staged grimace. “Grades aren’t good enough to be invited.”

Ah. Yeah, I think I disappointed my parents, too. Poor kid. Did they at least try to keep it from him? Still, kids can tell. “Not going to carry on the legacy then, huh? We’ve all been there. Say, who’s this?” I pointed at another mare with her foreleg curled over Blaze’s withers.

He peered at the photo, and a light immediately shone in his eyes. But more like a lightning bolt—it faded into a cloud of gray. “Mortarboard. She was a classmate and teammate of Blaze’s, and now she serves as the headmistress.”

His mouth hung open for a minute, but he must have decided he had no more to say, since he stood up and took a step toward the front door.

“There a story behind that?” I said.

“Well… they had a falling out earlier this year. Shame to see it, but it happens, I guess.”

So I shifted my weight to one side. Not quite ready to leave after all. “What about?”

“Mortarboard said she thought he’d been cheating on his tests.” He wouldn’t make eye contact, his gaze roving across the floor. “Blaze resented the accusation.” Still more, but a look of iron drifted over his face. “Will that be all?”

I’d seen that often enough. He wouldn’t say any more, now that he’d figured out my aim. Still. A mother and a headmistress, both with high hopes that they’d have a star pupil on their hooves. And both could have used a convenient excuse to explain his failure. Too traumatized for him to take on the stress of training for the Magilympics, and maybe a plausible reason for him to make a quiet exit from the school altogether. Interesting that Golden Shield had never spoken to Mortarboard. Or if he had, he never took down a report from her. So now I had another reason to stop by the school.

I tucked my notebook away. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s all. You’ve been helpful, sir. Thanks.”

“Thank you, detective,” he responded, taking the business card I offered him before seeing me out.


The next morning, I headed into the office to do all the little unfortunate bits of busywork that any desk job entails, and administered my first dose of caffeine. Feeling a bit more chipper for it, I walked on over toward the School for Gifted Unicorns, which lay adjacent to the castle. I passed by Pony Joe’s on the way—that next need for a stimulant tugged at me to make a detour, but I resisted. I had an appointment to keep.

I smiled up at the castle towers again until they disappeared from view behind the school’s administration building. “Detective Gumshoe, CPD,” I mumbled to the receptionist, flashing my credentials. “I’ve got an appointment with the headmistress.”

He flipped through the day planner on his desk until his hoof landed on the appropriate hour. “Yes, I have you right here. Mortarboard is in her office. Go right in,” he said, indicating the door behind him and to the left.

Knocking and poking my head in, I saw a petite unicorn mare seated at a large mahogany desk. Not too recognizable from that photo. The face was close enough, with a few wrinkles added, but her suit and tightly pulled-back mane said nothing but business. Not like the free, wavy hair and rumpled sweatshirt of ten or fifteen or however many years ago. She rose and nodded a greeting, walking over to shake hooves with me. “My, news travels quickly!” she said. “We only just found out, and I didn’t think the police had been notified yet.”

“Notified of what?” I asked, slipping into one of the richly upholstered guest chairs. Still, I leaned forward, ready to stand up again. Something told me I might need to soon.

“That another incident has happened. We just found the student an hour ago. He’s in the infirmary.” She peered over the frames of her glasses at me. “I assume you’ll want to speak with him, but perhaps we should wait until the nurse has said it’s okay.”

Another victim? Jeez. Nodding, I sank the rest of the way into my chair. “If we could, I’d like to discuss Star Shine.”

“Yes, a bit of an odd bird, that one. He has much potential, but he’s never managed to capitalize on it.” She steepled her hooves on the desk in front of her and looked down to collect her thoughts. “His talent level is exceptional, but not unprecedented. However, he chooses to coast as much as possible. He does extremely well on all of his exams, but quite poorly on homework and class projects. It all averages out to a passing grade, but speaks to a poor work ethic.”

“I’m sure the stress of these last several months must be affecting him. At least he’s keeping his head above water.”

Mortarboard frowned and nodded. “Yes. You aren’t the first to suggest such an idea. I’m quite willing to see how he does in the next semester, but it may not improve if this... whatever it is... is still going on. Are you making any progress?”

By the book, I rubbed my chin, deep in thought, and nodded as well. “Yes. Is Star Shine available?”

“I’ll have one of the teaching assistants take you to his room. Star Shine should be waiting there, out in the hall.”

The hall? Why wouldn’t Star Shine be in his own room? Mortarboard started to stand, but I held up a hoof. “Who was it this time?” I asked.

“His roommate, Silk Ascot.” That explained why Star Shine would be outside. And yet another pony who wouldn’t look me in the eye. What wasn’t she telling me? She nearly said something. She wanted to. So I waited.

“They don’t always get along too well,” she finally said.

And the bell in my head rang. I knew I’d seen that name before. In one of the previous attacks on Star Shine, the officer on the scene had taken a statement from Silk Ascot. Nothing, really, just that he hadn’t seen anything, but Star Shine had complained a couple times earlier in the year about Ascot bullying him. He had an alibi, though, for two of the incidents. That had thrown suspicion off him. This would tend to as well, right? Hm. Maybe.

Not to mention the other little piece of information I’d seen in that report. “Your nephew, if I recall.”

Mortarboard still wouldn’t look at me. “Yes.”

More pieces of the puzzle. That gave Ascot a reason to hold a grudge against Star Shine’s parents, and they’d been victims. And leave it to a bully to pick random ponies, too. Could he have staged this?

Mortarboard, too. If she knew, she might be covering for him. Or… that would knock out two problems at once, wouldn’t it? Protect Silk Ascot and get the disappointing student to go away.

“So, tell me about Star Blaze.” That got her attention.

She sat back down. “W-what do you want to know?”

“You had a confrontation with her?”

I expected her to be surprised by the question, but she immediately nodded. “Yes, before winter break. Same as I told that… Shield. Silver Shield or something.”

“Golden Shield.” Well, I got to be the surprised one, I guess. Golden Shield had never made a note of talking to her. Had he hit a dead end there?

“Yes. Yes, that was the name. I-I told her that several of Star Shine’s teachers had come to me under suspicions he’d been cheating. He’d ace the tests, but he did poorly on all other assignments. She blew up at me and accused me of trying to get him kicked out of school. But I never said anything of the sort!” She let out a huff and gritted her teeth. “It hadn’t even occurred to me to think about expulsion at that point. She was the one who brought it up!”

Hm. Making a suggestion, huh? I still needed to talk to her.

I finally took my hat off. Didn’t realize I’d be in here this long, and it’s just a show of respect, anyway. “You both hoped he’d be Magilympics material. Didn’t it feel like they let you down?”

“Not at all! I’ve got hundreds of students who aren’t on the team. What difference would one more make?”

“Maybe if you’d been counting on him…” Mortarboard only scowled back. “I didn’t see any statements from you recorded on the official incident reports. So I have to ask—can you account for your whereabouts during them? This morning, for instance?”

Her cheeks turned red, and her scowl deepened. “I was in my office all morning. My secretary will verify that.” Her eyes flicked to her desktop for a second, but she quickly looked at me again. “Besides, most of those happened before Star Shine was a student here. Why would I have done it then?”

Sometimes criminals practice first, until an opportunity comes along. But I had a different hunch. “How were his grades in public school before you invited him here?”

She looked like she might snap me in two. “He did very well on his placement exam.”

“I see.” She and Blaze were still friends back then. A completely unrelated reason to discourage him from attending might have proven very useful. She glanced up at my horn, and I could practically see the “like you’d do well on that test” balanced on the edge of her lips. In any case, I had what I came for. I reached for my hat.

“Oh,” I said as I got to my hooves. “One more thing. Has Silk Ascot ever had trouble with bullying any other children?”

Mortarboard took a measured breath. “Yes.”

“This year, or before he came to this school?”

I could almost hear her teeth grinding. “Both.”

Hm. I didn’t know if that meant anything. Really, I could make an argument either way. So I just filed that away for later and put my hat on. “Thank you, Ms. Mortarboard.”

She rose and went over to the door, casting her gaze around the lobby. “Copper Lamp! Could you come over here, please? I need you to take the detective up to the first-year dormitory, and then on to the infirmary after that.” Leaning back inside the doorway, she added, “Is there anything else you need, Detective...?”

“Gumshoe. No, ma’am, that’ll do nicely.” I got up and followed Copper Lamp through a winding path of hallways. Magic school. Yeah, I wasn’t exactly “Gifted” there. But I do alright for myself.

Still, whoever was doing this clearly used magic. That made things tougher, but not impossible. Magic has to follow certain rules. Sure, the attacker wouldn’t have to be in the same room with his victim, but it still had a range. He couldn’t be too far. He would leave signs.

We finally arrived at a third-floor room overlooking a large courtyard. Stepping inside, I saw a white colt with white mane and tail, leaning over an array of worksheets and textbooks. He sat facing the window, away from me, and I immediately noticed the very large, very fancy brass lamp on the corner nearest the sill. Another quick glance around for evidence, but fat chance of that, right at the scene. Not for a magical crime. I’d leave that for the uniformed guys. I could already tell they wouldn’t find anything. “Star Shine?” I asked, prompting him to turn a set of pale pink eyes on me.

I… wow. I’d never seen an albino before. But I quickly kept myself from staring. Poor kid must get enough of that.

“Yes?” He swung around in his chair, and as he walked toward me, I noticed the lack of a cutie mark on his side.

“I’m Detective Gumshoe. I’ve taken over your case from Golden Shield.” His stiff posture immediately melted away as he ran up and hugged me, his ears down flat.

“They only let me back in here a few minutes ago. I’m so glad you’re here. It’s been weeks since Shield was around, and he… and he made me feel safe.” He looked up and into my eyes as the first few tears rolled down his cheeks. “I don’t know why it’s teasing. It wants me dead, but it’s playing games first, and now it’s started again.” He trembled and braced himself against the bedpost. “At least it’s away from Mommy and Daddy now.”

I hugged him back and let him cry it out. Poor kid had a lot to deal with. Got me thinking again about whether I’d make a good dad. “Now, nopony wants you dead. Don’t even think about that.” What would make a kid even come up with that? Wild animals, maybe, but ponies killing ponies? And nopony had died. “Shine, do you know the student who was attacked last night?”

He sniffled once and nodded. “My roommate. Everypony that gets close to me gets hurt. I wish it would stop!”

Kneeling down to meet him at eye level, I said, “It’s okay. I’m here to keep you safe. We’re gonna figure this out.” After a moment, he gave a weak nod, his eyes glued to the floor.

“What happened to Shield?” he asked in a small voice.

“He’s gone away for a while. But it’s okay. I’m here now. I’m gonna go talk to your roommate, but I’ll be back tonight to see if we can catch whoever is stalking you. Shield had the right idea of good old-fashioned surveillance. Okay?” Reaching down with a hoof, I lifted his chin up. He kept his eyes cast downward, but nodded again. “When did you last see Shield?”

“When I came back to school from break,” he answered, sniffling as he brushed a hoof across his nose.

I hated to ask him, but… “Where were you when Ascot… when it happened?”

“In the library. Studying alone.”

Hm. Not a useful answer. “Nopony saw you?” He just shrugged.

And more unwanted thoughts. Maybe he wanted out. Pressure from his parents, from his teachers. Did he need a reason to leave school? He’d never asked to, though.

“Okay. I’m going to go talk to your roommate now,” I said. “You let me handle this, and don’t worry about a thing.” He gave me another little nod.

“I’ll see you later, then. Copper Lamp?” Peeking around the door frame from where she was waiting in the hallway, she beckoned for me to follow her and led me down two flights of stairs, to the far end of the building.

When I walked up to the young victim, the nurse was still dabbing a piece of gauze at a cut on his shoulder. He looked… old.

His wrinkled skin and graying mane stood in stark contrast to his otherwise youthful appearance. “Are you Star Shine’s roommate?”

“Yes, sir,” he croaked, wincing with the effort of speaking. “Silk Ascot, sir.”

“It’s alright,” I reassured him. I tried as disarming a smile as possible. Then I turned to the nurse and pointed at the wound she was bandaging. “How’d he get that? None of the attacks have done that before.”

“He was carrying a letter opener when it happened,” she replied, shaking her head. “He fell on it.”

“Do you remember anything?” I asked Ascot, getting a solemn head shake in reply. “Do you know why anypony would want to do this to you?” Another head shake, and he wouldn’t look at me now. Lot of that going around lately.

I patted him on the other shoulder and walked out without saying another word. I could have told him that it’d wear off soon, or that he’d be okay, but there’s nothing you can do for that raw fear except prove that it’s got no reason to be there. In this case, it did. And his eyes—he really was scared. I’d learned to tell that, with Golden Shield’s help. Fear of being caught looked different, and this wasn’t it. Still, I’d keep an eye on him, just in case.

Copper Lamp led me back out to the main lobby outside Mortarboard’s office. From there, I returned to the station to pick up a couple of beat cops for that night’s watch. Captain let me resume that, like he’d approved for Golden Shield.

If that sick pony tried anything again, I was going to be there to stop it. I didn’t know how, but it didn’t matter. I’d find a way.

But before I left, I headed to the courtyard outside Shine’s room. Like I said, there are always signs. Quiet area, mostly for decoration. It didn’t look like too many students actually used it.

I should have counted the doors on my way to Shine’s room, but I guessed it had to be one of the last few windows on that hall, and… yeah, the lamp just inside. I recognized that. A tree grew nearby, with a sturdy branch extending right next to the window.

Signs, alright. Hoofprints in the dirt under the window and at the base of the tree. Some flakes of crumbled mortar littered the ground, scattered across the prints. Same color as the lines of it between the masonry, but none was missing, not from between the stone blocks. It wouldn’t anyway, not if the attacker had climbed the tree. Up on the sill, then? I reached out with my magic, about as high as I could, and brushed off whatever was up there, and a little shower of grey residue rained down.

Somepony had climbed up to that window.


Nothing had happened overnight, of course. And I’d taken the first watch, so I was getting a late start on the day.

I’d looked up where Star Blaze worked, so I took a nice walk after lunch. Quieter district, mostly offices. She had a job as a junior partner in a law practice. And questioning lawyers is about as fun as it sounds.

She kept me waiting for over an hour, even though I made sure the receptionist told her it was about her son. After my third time leafing through the same magazine, she finally called me back.

She gestured toward a very plush chair. “Have a seat, please. May I have my secretary get you something to drink?”

Truth be told, I’d only had breakfast two hours ago, because of the late night. “No, thank you.”

“I appreciate you watching out for Star Shine yesterday,” she said, her hooves folded on her desk.

I pulled out my notebook, only then realizing I’d written nothing down from my visit with Mortarboard. All in my head, huh? If what happened to Golden Shield happened to me too, the next guy… well… “No problem, ma’am. Thank you for seeing me.”

“I understand you’ve spoken to my husband as well.” Her jaw was set, but at least she looked me in the eye. Not many ponies would do that about this case, but then I bet lawyers are good at it. I actually haven’t had too much experience with them, oddly enough—I’ve only had to testify a few times before, so I just said my piece and didn’t stick around for the rest. Besides, I wasn’t the one they were trying to intimidate. Until now.

“I did. I also spent some time yesterday talking to Mortarboard and Silk Ascot. Star Shine, too, but he’s been through enough.” I flashed a one-sided smile and shook my head. “Figured I should at least introduce myself. I’m working his case and all.”

She gave me a once-over. Tough call with her. Play dumb? Might be easier, since she’d assume she’s smarter than anypony else. She couldn’t hide the sneer on her face, though, or maybe she didn’t care to try. “And what did they have to say?”

“Ascot just seemed scared. Mortarboard, more defensive.” Yeah, the bumbling detective just played all his cards up front. So what would she do about it?

“I wouldn’t put it past her. Accusing my child of cheating.”

I pulled out the old chin rub again. Even dumb detectives had to think they’d pieced the whole story together. “But she didn’t. Some of Star Shine’s teachers did, and they went to her about it. One teacher, sure, but several?” I cursed under my breath and shook my head. “Forgot to ask her how many teachers. You don’t know, do you?”

She didn’t answer. That many, huh? “I don’t see what she gets out of threatening your family, though. I understand that she wanted him to be a big player on the school team, but as she put it, most students aren’t on the team. What’s one more of those to her?”

“Mortarboard has it in for us. She’s doing this out of spite. If she’s not responsible, she knows who is,” Star Blaze said, thumping the desktop with a hoof.

So I scratched my head. More and more, I didn’t see a motive there, unless it involved Silk Ascot, too. “You’ve lost me. Why would she have done this to your son before the accusations of cheating came up? You two were still good friends until then, right? That’s what your husband said.”

A little fire shot through her eyes. “Our disagreement started before then.”

“Was Mortarboard pressuring you? Was she recruiting him for the team? You must have realized he wasn’t ready for it.” I shrugged and put my notepad away, the page still blank. I wasn’t exactly getting anything too useful out of her. And it wouldn’t hurt if she thought so, too. “I hear he shows flashes of brilliance, but a team needs consistency. She probably told you that with her coaching, he could get there.”

“She did,” Blaze answered with a little frown. “In the end. I’d applied for early admission, but Star Shine’s grades didn’t reflect his true ability. I promised her that he’d blow away the placement exam, and when he did, she agreed that he showed enough talent. In fact, she’d seen the scores before I had a chance to contact her. She came knocking on my door.”

With Star Shine caught in the middle. How’d she know he would ace that test, anyway? A magic test, no doubt—not that I’d know what was on it, as Mortarboard would surely love to point out—and magic sure stood right at the center of all this. “One last thing, ma’am: the time you were attacked. Could you go over it again?”

After drawing a slow breath and closing her eyes, she said, “Star Streak was late bringing our son home from a tour of the School for Gifted Unicorns.” A shudder rippled her body. “So the house was empty when I got back from work. Dark. Too dark, darker than the shadows. Then I felt… everything… I don’t know how to describe it.”

She hunched over the desk and wedged her muzzle between her hooves. “I felt like I was dying. No pain, just… my life, dripping out. I was so cold…” With another shiver, she hugged her forelegs to her chest.

“But… you recovered the quickest of all the victims. Only a couple of hours. Why’d… whoever it is… take it easy on you?” Mortarboard had never been attacked. Silk Ascot had, but I’d immediately wondered whether he was the type to stage a self-inflicted wound. And if it was only a minor wound… Nothing had happened to interrupt Star Blaze’s assailant. He’d simply stopped.

Star Blaze didn’t have an answer. She just covered her head and whimpered. A go-for-the-throat attorney reduced to tears? I reached over to pat her shoulder. “I’m sorry to make you relive that.”

“It’s alright,” she mumbled.

I wasn’t going to get anything more from her. I thanked her and left my card. She didn’t say anything more, didn’t even move. So I gave her a sympathetic smile and headed back to the station.


Two nights later, I was patrolling the dormitory’s halls for my third late night in a row. One of the uniformed officers stood outside Shine’s door, and the other watched the building’s entrance. And absolutely nothing had happened the entire time.

I’d spent a while watching the courtyard, too, but nopony had been attacked more than once except Shine himself, and not since he moved here. Not much reason to think we actually had to watch him, but we’d stay nearby, for whatever might turn up.

A drizzling rain had been falling for hours now, the first one in over a month, and as I nodded another greeting to the guard at the entrance, I poked my head out the door. The smell of damp grass greeted me. Not bad, but it’s not like that strangely pleasant, dusty odor when the rain first starts. The groundskeepers around here would love seeing all that hard-packed dirt in the flowerbeds broken up. A shovel would’ve barely scratched the stuff yesterday.

“Hold down the fort for me,” I said to the officer. “I’m going to go grab a few hours’ sleep.”

As I headed down the street in the direction of my apartment, I caught my head dipping a few times. I passed Pony Joe’s restaurant, all locked up for the night. Sure could use some of his coffee right now. Oh, well.

The clock atop the bank on the corner showed nearly two in the morning. That bar near my place would still be open a little longer. No harm in a quick drink before bed. I had to circle around part of a city block to get there, but found that familiar neon light blazing into the darkness. The only other soul in sight, a pony standing by the newsstand down the street, untied his package of wares and tossed the newspapers onto his shelf to await the morning rush hour.

Funny how this place always lined up with a view of the castle. The sign’s bright green light gave way to the large, dark shape looming over it in the background, a few flecks of candlelight showing from windows here and there. I looked up at them, sending a stream of raindrops off the back of my hat. Are you watching, Princess Luna? Am I doing a good job?

Walking past a smattering of patrons sitting by themselves, I slid into a stool at the counter. The bartender ambled over and gave me a friendly smile. “Another late night?”

“Yeah. Give me whatever cider is on tap tonight.” He nodded and drew me a frothy glass. Heh. Frosted Mug. His parents had some guts naming him that. There were more diplomatic ways of going about it, and it would’ve been years before he could even use one, anyway. Whatever. Suited him now. Heck, same goes for me, though at least my name was a little less out of place for a kid.

I must have nursed that cider for an hour, punctuated by the occasional jangle of the bell on the door, and the short bursts of rainy white noise that floated through just after. Mug sat near the end of the counter, tapping his hoof to the soft jazz playing on the radio behind him and keeping to himself. Nopony wanted to talk at this hour of the morning, anyway. I sure didn’t.

My usual stool, and Golden Shield’s next to it. I hadn’t come here in months, but I guess it was time. Mug didn’t ask what had kept me away, of course. Maybe he knew. But for a bartender, sometimes saying the right things meant saying nothing. Mug had worked this business long enough to tell.

Tossing back the last swallow, I clinked a few coins and a generous tip on the bar, then headed back out into the now-heavy weather. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. I was on my last legs to begin with, and cider doesn’t do a thing to wake me up. Starting to get cross-eyed, I stumbled down an alley toward the back way into my place. I didn’t need the landlord hassling me about coming home in the wee hours in my condition. I nearly tripped on a loose cobblestone, but I regained my hooves and shook my head. Then I noticed.

I didn’t hear the rain anymore. I didn’t hear anything. Well, not exactly. There was a faint sound, like wind-blown leaves. Leaning against a trash bin, I rubbed at the knee I’d scraped on the ground. As I bent down, something under the bin caught my eye. Some brown fabric. It looked familiar somehow, but I could barely see it. The alley had gotten so dark, darker than the night. I gave the fabric a tug, but it was caught underneath the bin, so I lit up my horn and tried to levitate everything a bit. It was heavy. I strained and strained, my horn brightening with the effort, but the darkness closed in even more. The rustling sound got louder.


“Gumshoe?” The voice echoed in the darkness as I tried to attach some meaning to it.

“Gumshoe?” I felt something cool on my forehead and blinked my eyes halfway open, looking up into daylight and Pony Joe’s face. He squinted at me, and he’d gone a little pale. “Ah! There you are. Are you okay?”

I tried to sit up, but he pressed a hoof to my shoulder, keeping me down. “Whoa there! You probably shouldn’t move yet.”

“What...?” I began, but he was already answering.

“I just opened. Came out back to toss my first load of garbage, and here you were.” His ears pricked up as his eyes brightened. “Hold on a sec. One of my customers is a paramedic. Don’t move.”

I groaned and rubbed my head, the narrow stripe of sky above me still spinning in a fog. Smells of fresh coffee and donuts teased my nose, and I did feel pretty empty, so I was trying to sit up again when Joe returned. “Sir, please stay down,” the paramedic said. “You shouldn’t move until I’ve had a chance to check you over.” He looked at my eyes, read my pulse, and scanned me for any obvious signs of injury, all while I lay there like a sack of potatoes. “I don’t see anything alarming. I think it’s safe to bring him inside. Get a little coffee in him.” Glancing back down at me, he gave a scolding smile. “Have a bit too much to drink last night? Probably shouldn’t be doing that at your age.”

I shook my head. My age?

He and Joe helped me up and walked me through the back door to a seat at the counter, where Joe poured me a steaming cup of straight black coffee. “I haven’t known you to drink too much, Gumshoe, but you look like a wreck,” Joe said, shooting me a glare. Only then did I notice what I had clutched in my left hoof the whole time: a wadded-up detective’s trenchcoat, with a badly frayed right lapel. Just like Golden Shield always wore.

No…

My hoof shook, and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop! I slammed the coat against the counter and dug through the inside pocket. A canvas wallet with a cold metal badge clipped to the side. I didn’t need to pull it out to look.

“I-I didn’t...” I caught sight of my reflection in a stainless steel napkin dispenser. A few wrinkles showing. A few gray streaks scattered through my mane. I shoved myself back from the counter, sending the stool clattering to the floor.

“Gumshoe,” Pony Joe said, “take it easy. Drink your coffee. You look like Tartarus warmed over.”

“N-no! I…” I folded the coat in half and flung it over my back. “It’s alright, Joe. I know what’s going on. I’ve gotta go.”

I hurried out the door and galloped at top speed down the road, back toward the school. Only an emergency could tear me away from a cup of coffee at this hour, especially when it felt like my legs might crumple under me at any moment. When I arrived at campus, there were already several uniformed officers milling about, and Stakeout was in an animated discussion with the one who’d been guarding the entrance.

“Celestia’s sake, Gumshoe, what happened to you?” he asked, stomping his way over to me. “You were due back here hours ago, and nopony’d answer at your place. Where’ve you been?” His tone of voice softened and his eyes shot wide open as he scanned me over. “No. No freakin’ way.”

“Never mind,” I yelled, shoving my way past him as I panted for breath. “Where’s Star Shine? Is he okay?”

“He’s in class,” Stakeout shouted after me. “You gonna file a report on this?”

“Yes! Later! And send some officers to the alleys around Pony Joe’s. I have a feeling they’ll find Golden Shield.”

I walked around behind the main office to where the auditorium stood, and went back to the orchestra room. Through the window, I could already see Shine blaring away on his trumpet. I stuck my head through the doorway, chest heaving. “Shine! Come with me!”

The conductor nodded, and Shine packed up his instrument, then trotted into the hallway with me. When he saw my condition, he gasped and folded his ears back. “Y-you too?”

I nodded and waved off the question he wanted to ask. “I’ll be fine. But are you okay? Nothing happened last night?”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. His eyes widened as he gaped at me.

“Good.” I let out a sigh and let myself sink against the wall. Forcing a cheery glint in my eye, I said, “I didn’t know they taught music here. What other classes do you take?”

Shine relaxed as a small smile crept across his face. “Orchestra, history... The rest are all magic classes. Final exams are next week, so I’ve been practicing my spells.”

Good. He was okay. I hadn’t failed him. He was still okay. “That’s great.” I patted him on the shoulder. “You don’t worry about anything except your classes. I’ll handle this business.”

He gave a meek nod as his gaze sank to the bundle on my back. “Is that...?”

“Yeah,” I said through a long sigh. Poor kid. I should have left it with Stakeout, but I could only think about getting here as fast as possible. “I found it last night. I’ll take it in for evidence. Maybe we can learn something from it.” I looked back through the doorway, where the conductor had let the other students put their music and instruments away. “Looks like it’s almost time for the next class. Go on.” I nudged him down the hallway and watched him go as he cast one last wary glance at Golden Shield’s coat.


Sitting at my desk, I stared at the coat piled there in front of me. I’d looked over the exterior already without finding any clue as to how it had ended up in that alley. I spun around in my chair to face out the window and see those dancing lights atop the castle again. Halfway through cracking a smile, I saw Stakeout’s reflection as he walked up behind me. I turned toward him with an eyebrow raised, but his dour expression already answered whatever question I might have asked.

“We found the trash bin you described. Shield was about two blocks away, stuffed in a storm drain with a bunch of garbage. Looked the same as the rest—gray, wrinkled... but worse.” He shook his head and stared at the wall with unfocused eyes.

My own eyes shot wide open. I looked up at him and pricked my ears forward. “So, it’s murder, then?” He nodded slowly, gravely, his ears drooping. A jolt ran up my spine, and electricity danced in my brain. Murder cases were extremely rare. They could make you or break you. Often both. “How could a pony...?”

Stakeout shrugged and ran a hoof over the stubble on his chin. “Congrats, junior. You’ve got the biggest case in the department now.” He actually wasn’t being sarcastic. He looked like he felt sorry for me. The other detectives just stood around, staring at nothing. But somehow, I’d figured on this. I’d already made my peace. Or tried to.

With a sigh, I started going through the pockets of Shield’s coat. Badge still in the inside one, as usual, and nothing in the outside pockets. So I reached in to get his wallet and badge out. Gotta bag and tag those. But something else—

I pulled out a small notepad, identical to my own. Golden Shield never took notes. Why would he have started? The first page contained a single date, one of the two he’d penciled in on the last crime report. Only the second page contained anything else; the rest were blank. It had a complete list of all the dates, plus the two extra ones. What had those meant to him? All of them, when an attack had occurred, and now I knew the last one was, too—an attack on Golden Shield himself. Did he know it would happen? And what about the date before it? Nothing had occurred on that date, unless there was still another victim I’d never found. Nopony had ever reported one, though, and finding Golden Shield had cleared up our only missing ponies case. What did it mean?

And what about the note he’d scrawled in the margin of that report? Those two dates and “Last one cinches it.” I guessed he meant the last date, but which was the last? Whether or not he’d anticipated his own attack… maybe they were both important.

If Golden Shield had remained convinced that this all revolved around Star Shine—he’d kept up a guard on the colt, after all—then maybe it was time to find out what those dates meant to him specifically. In ways he didn’t realize, since he’d never made head nor tail of them before. And given that almost all of them had happened since Shine started at the new school… come to think of it, they’d only happened around the school anyway, even the ones before that. Shine’s parents had fallen victim before they moved.

That school seemed to have a deeper involvement all the time. Seemed like a good place to look harder. I stalked out the door like a hound dog on a scent trail.


I dashed into the school’s lobby while the receptionist was still locking up the file cabinets for the day. Out of breath, I wheezed, “I need to see Star Shine’s records! Now!” He looked to Mortarboard, who was just stepping out of her office. She nodded.

I took the folder and spread its contents out on a table, adding the incident reports from my file below. Date after date, nothing matched up. Different days of the week, different parts of each quarter. No disciplinary problems, no absences, save the couple of times Star Shine had been the victim himself.

A throat cleared behind me.

Turning to face Mortarboard, I took off my hat and set it on the table. “Sorry. This could take a while.”

“Mr. Gumshoe,” she said with a scowl, “I cannot leave private student records unattended.”

“Tell you what,” I replied. “When I finish, I’ll slide them under your door. Safe and sound until morning. I’ve got no reason to leak any of this stuff. Not like any of it’s worth leaking anyway.”

With a loud sigh, she flopped into a chair along the wall behind me and closed her eyes. “I shall wait.”

Fine. Whatever floats her boat. Back to work, then. So, first date, before Star Shine came to school here. Several more when he still lived at home, the rest after his parents moved and he started rooming at the school. They didn’t line up with anything! The frequency hadn’t changed since he’d lived here. They didn’t align with school breaks—a few even occurred when the students had the day off. Wait, a knot of them, right before winter vacation. Four of them, within two weeks. I’d noticed that once before, I guess, but what did it mean?

What about those cheating accusations? It must have shown up in his grades. I leafed through a few more forms, and—aha! Academic reports. Grades from each class, in neat lines. Homework, projects, tests. Wow. He was a rather poor student. Barely passing grades on any of the assignments, but then a strong A on every single test. Except for history class. Pretty solid C there across the board, tests included.

I couldn’t help looking down every one of those magic classes. Conjuring class: D, D, C-minus. Test day, A-plus. C, C-minus, D, D. Next test, A. And so on. No wonder they suspected him of cheating. When was that first test? October fourth. For some reason, that sounded familiar. Under the edge of the folder, my incident reports. Where was it? First one, no. Next, no, no. There!

Eh, not quite. October first. That second test? I ran a hoof up the column on the grade form. November eleventh. Back to my crime reports. Not that one, not that one… Hm. An attack on November ninth.

I grabbed a pencil and put a check mark next to those two dates on the grading form. Mortarboard instantly chimed in with an indignant “Excuse me,” but I waved her off. No time to deal with her right now. Not like a few pencil marks would wreck her precious paperwork.

Potions class. Three tests. An attack two days before the first and second, and the day before the third. And a bolt of ice shot down my back, like when one of the pegasus detectives tries to get cute with a snow cloud above my desk. Way too close a match for coincidence. I had a damn pattern.

More tests, more dates. All matching within a couple days, all in the first term, anyway. Nothing recorded since December, but all matches. Except the first date. But I had a hunch.

I shoved myself back from the table and whirled on Mortarboard. “What’s important about April twenty-four? Or within a couple days after it?”

“I… uh…” She shook her head and rubbed her eyes.

“When’s the placement exam for student applications?” I barked.

“L-last Thursday in April…”

I pounded a hoof on the table. Everything fit. Plus no attacks around the history tests. Only the magic ones. “There aren’t any records of the spring term yet?”

“No. N-no, they don’t get submitted for another month yet. The teachers keep them until they’re collated near the end of the term.” I swore I might have heard some snoring behind me a few minutes ago, but she sure was wide awake now.

“How can I find out when Star Shine’s tests were this term?”

Mortarboard stood and rummaged through a paper tray on top of one of the filing cabinets. One sheet of red paper, then she neatened the pile, put it back, started on a blue one… What in Tartarus was she doing?

I could only watch as her stack grew, then finally: “Blanks for the first-year classes. The teachers use these. Tests are scheduled by the administration, so the dates are already filled in.” She levitated them over to me and stood looking over my shoulder. Not that I minded the scrutiny, but she kept clicking her tongue to hurry me along. A schoolmarm’s a schoolmarm, I guess, whether in a fancy academy or the place I went, way out in some crumbling building far from the castle.

So, more tests. I slid each incident report over, crossing the closest date off the schedules. Again, nothing lined up with any of the history tests. But when I’d finished, two dates still blazed at me like a neon sign. Tomorrow. That explained the attack on me yesterday. And March thirteenth. Not an attack within ten days of it. That left Golden Shield as the odd one out. He hadn’t disappeared right before a test.

Maybe he’d been held captive for a while. Because he’d found out enough to make him dangerous. But that wasn’t the only possibility. I jabbed my hoof at the course title: Illusions and Prestidigitation. “Who teaches this?”

“Um… Card Trick,” Mortarboard answered, tapping a hoof against the table.

“Any chance he’s still here?”

“You might catch him yet,” she said with a nod. “Most of the teachers leave about now.”

She didn’t move, so I swept a hoof toward the door. “After you.”

Her face instantly darkened. “I think I’ve been more than accommodating. Can’t this wait until morning?”

She didn’t know. I had to remind myself of that to keep from yelling at her. “This is a murder case now,” I growled. Her eyes shot wide open like a mouse cornered by an alley cat. “Do you know how rare those are?”

“M-murder?” Her face went ashen, and she held a trembling hoof to her lips. “Y-yes, detective. Right away!” She rushed out of the room with me hot on her trail.

What was the connection to the tests, though? The attacker… helped him somehow? Did he know about it? Maybe Mortarboard or Star Blaze, trying to keep him from flunking out, or… Silk Ascot. No, he didn’t have a clear motive to do that. Star Shine himself? He’d been a victim four times! Overkill for throwing suspicion off. Plus somepony had climbed up to the window to get Ascot. There’d be no point in Star Shine doing that. He could simply open the door, or stand on the other side of it, or… How would he have managed it anyway? He was too poor a magic user to pull this off.

Something didn’t sit right, though. Something I must have overlooked.

I just shook my head and frowned. “Ascot still in the infirmary?” I called ahead.

“Yes, until morning,” Mortarboard said, quickly this time. I was finally getting some cooperation out of her.

So Star Shine was alone tonight. Test tomorrow, and whatever it was had already gotten me. No reason for anything else to go wrong. So why’d my brain keep kicking me about it? “And where’s Star Shine?”

“In the dining hall, I presume. Dinner began about ten minutes ago.” Mortarboard came to a stop and pushed open a classroom door. “Please,” she said, waving me in.

Sure enough, a unicorn stallion sat at the desk, scribbling away at a stack of papers. He glanced up when I cleared my throat. “Can… I help you?” Card Trick said, his forehead wrinkling.

“March thirteenth,” I said. “Your class was scheduled for a test then.”

He shrugged. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“February twenty-ninth. Or within a couple days after it. That mean anything to you?”

He thought for a minute, then shook his head. “Not especially. Why?”

Time for another hunch. “Did you actually have a test on March thirteenth?”

At first, he squinted again. Then a light shone in his eyes, and he did his best to hide it. Another shrug, another head shake, but too late, too stiff. So I levitated out my badge.

He took a sharp breath and jerked up in his seat like somepony had yanked on his puppet strings. “Th-the other detective…”

“Golden Shield.”

“Yes, Golden Shield.” Card Trick gulped. Hard. “He swore me to secrecy, but… you’re the police, too, so…” He mustered up another breath and slumped in his chair. “He asked me to move that test up two weeks. I announced it on short notice to catch the students by surprise. They didn’t know until two days before.”

“Before when?” As if I didn’t already know.

“March second.”

Shield had it all figured out. Move up the test, make whoever it was desperate, and wait for something to happen. Except it had happened to him.

I whirled back to the door, where Mortarboard had resumed her earlier scowl. “That’s against school policy to change the test schedule!” she barked at Card Trick.

“Relax,” I said with a pat on her shoulder as I scooted past her into the hallway. “I think he’s just given me a big help in solving this case.”

After a few paces, I looked back at her again. “And please send a note to my precinct office. Tell them if they haven’t heard from me by ten o’clock to come up to Star Shine’s room with every beat cop they can gather.”


Mortarboard didn’t seem like a viable suspect anymore. Too bad I’d missed the expression on her face when Card Trick admitted to changing the test. I could have gauged whether it had surprised her. But she probably would have brought it up when I asked her about all the other tests. Either she’d thought through her part to play very carefully, or she really didn’t know anything about this whole business.

So I stood in the dark hallway and waited. I did some of my best thinking while sitting still, usually hunched over a mug of cider, but this being a school and all… Anyway, it made sense. The river moves and picks up all the silt, then it slows down to let all that settle out. Things become clearer.

I’d recovered very quickly, more so than any of the other victims. It barely got anything from me, and another test loomed ahead. Maybe Star Shine would just have to take the hit and get a middling grade on an exam for once. But something told me otherwise. And why had I gotten off easy?

I thought back to that night. I’d seen Golden Shield’s coat, and I’d tried to lift the trash bin, but it was too heavy. It must have rolled further onto the coat when the garbage wagon had come by. But what did I do? Just strain to lift the damned thing, and then nothing. What difference did that make? And if I’d done something after that, I couldn’t remember it anyway. Just another loose end.

I shook my head. Tonight, I needed to stay focused.

Alone in his room, Star Shine would make for a tempting target. Or something might show up to give him whatever it took to ace that test, whether he knew it or not. Either way, I was betting that something would go down in there tonight.

This late, all the students had retired to their rooms. They’d come back from dinner, single file, horns lighting their way, none of them taking notice of me. A few left the doors cracked, but most, like Star Shine, had them shut, and only a single bulb illuminated the hall from the far end—not much of that light made it over here. And I waited in the lounge at the top of the stairs, with a good view of his room. A few streetlights outside striped the wall through the blinds, and I listened to the drizzle. Another one of those nights. Would I see more muddy hoofprints under the window tomorrow?

Only silence filled the hall, packed it to the gills, like at a funeral of one of those uptown bigwigs. Nopony wanting to say anything, but they had to be there, and so many of them. I pricked my ears to any little noise: a bump here, a distant rumble of thunder there. But the quiet hiss of nothing pressed in on me.

A good half an hour must have passed, and not a soul had ventured out. So I left my vantage point in the lounge and crept up to Star Shine’s door. Too bad I couldn’t peek in and get a view of the window, but I should hear somepony trying to open it. If they needed to. I pressed my ear to the door.

And I heard it.

A sound like dry, windblown leaves. The sliver of light under the door dimmed.

I opened the door as quietly as I could and peered in. On the bed, Star Shine sat there with his back to me. A single light bulb blazed from the ceiling, but it somehow failed to pierce the gloom. All over, the room was bathed in thick shadows. And on the far side of the bed, a little tendril of the darkness reached up to touch Star Shine on the shoulder. “Just a little,” he said in a hushed tone. “I need to be able to study tomorrow.” He winced from the contact and caught himself before falling over.

Another flash—lightning in the distance, out the window. And for the second time lately, a cold shock flew up my back on prickly legs. The last few pieces my brain had been kicking me about for days finally fell into place. Rain.

Rain and mud. Those hoofprints outside the window couldn’t have been from the attack on Silk Ascot. Ground was harder than a Wonderbolt’s abs that day. Somepony had left those prints before that. The pieces of mortar, too—not ground into the mud by hooves, but sprinkled over top.

Somepony had climbed out the window first and back in later, not the other way around. Kid knew about it, alright, and then some.

I stepped the rest of the way in and cleared my throat. In an instant, that black wisp faded away, and Star Shine whipped his head around. Nothing could hide that look on his face, though he sure tried. All gaping, and he jumped like a jackrabbit.

“I found your pattern of test dates very interesting,” I said. “Particularly that surprise one.”

He swallowed hard, but he put on a stony face. “So somepony knows my schedule. That’s all.”

“Including your placement exam?” I took another step closer. “Maybe so. I’d thought of that. But Golden Shield caught you by surprise. You had to get ready for that test without a plan, and he knew it. He was waiting for you under the window, wasn’t he?”

No answer.

“You’d never taken it that far before. But you had no choice. If he was still around to talk, then it was all over.” I might have seen his eye twitch. He set his jaw, but he had a familiar squint to his eye. I’d seen that enough times in my day from the street punks we’d pick up. Whip up a few tears, ask why I’d say something like that to a kid. “Did you kill him here and drag him to that alley, or did you lure him there first?”

My throat nearly closed off at that word: kill. I’d never had to say it before, not during all my time on the force, and certainly not to anypony that young. How could a pony even consider…?

“You’ve been wandering off when you had time. I wonder what I’d find if I cross-checked the police reports with the times of your breaks between classes.” He finally lost that smug flash to his eyes. Now he just looked like he wanted to leave this room any way he could. “Then that night. You almost had me fooled. I thought somepony had climbed to your window to attack you, but it was backwards. Last time somepony used that window, they went in, not back out.”

The tears started, but real ones now. His ears lay flat against his head. “I didn’t want to. I really liked him, b-but... “ With a sniffle, he flopped onto his bed. “This is all I have. He was going to-to take it away from me.”

The room didn’t look so dim anymore, not like before. It had made me think of fog rolling through, but that single bulb shone out, all the room’s shadows gathering—

“I liked you, too,” he squeaked.

And behind me, that… thing touched me. C-cold, so cold, and my legs collapsed under me. Just shivering, everything going fuzzy. Where I’d fallen, my head angled up toward the window, and black… the black night. Time slowed to a crawl, and little pinpricks of light danced against the fog, like I’d taken a good shot to the skull, but it didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt. Even the cold felt… warm, and my heart slowed.

Little pinpricks, dancing there like happy children. And children wouldn’t hurt anypony. Different colors, even. The castle. The castle’s lights shining into the night. The grand ballrooms, the fancy gates, the towers, all twinkling. Are you up there, Princess Luna? I tried. I really did.

Overhead, the lone bulb shone as before, bright, with no shadows in the way now—they’d all gone behind me, away from it. I’d felt like this once before, the life draining from me, but when? It seemed like ages ago.

It… it was dark, and I’d… I’d tried to lift something. Something heavy. I’d strained as hard as I could, my horn blazing, but I couldn’t budge it. My horn blazing.

That’s why it barely got me. The-the magic, it made light, and it… it had left. It had left! The thing came at me, but the light weakened it!

I mustered up the last bits of my concentration and flared the brightest light spell I could manage. The shadow released me immediately, scrabbling for the bed to get under it, behind it, anywhere. But I wouldn’t let it go that easily. I gritted my teeth, pushed more magic into my horn, kept up that spell as long as I could.

Just as I passed out, I heard hoofbeats in the hall, lots of them. The door splintered.


Two weeks later, I had mostly recovered and had been back at work for several days. Stakeout kept telling me to take more time off. Medical leave, so free vacation, right? But I couldn’t. I needed to get everything squared away, except… something told me this wouldn’t really be over any time soon.

Sitting at my desk, I signed the last form and jammed it in the folder. Princess Celestia had already made her judgment, and that was that. Normally, a case wouldn’t be routed to her so quickly, but this was no normal case. Nothing left for me to do now. Nothing.

Couldn’t I, though? Seemed like I should find a way.

I drummed a hoof on the desktop for a moment, then turned to look out the window, up at the castle’s towers. Could I have helped him more? Did I do enough, Princess Celestia? Do you approve?

At the very least, I hoped I did Golden Shield proud. I sighed and stood up. I owed the colt that much. With a groan, I grabbed my hat and trenchcoat, then left the office and started the short walk over to the castle. And one little detour—I made sure to score a take-out cup of coffee at Pony Joe’s on the way. He wouldn’t let me pay him for it. Something about showing respect for his elders. I’d started to wonder if this gray streak was in my mane for good.

When I arrived at the front gate, I tossed my empty cup in a wastebasket and trotted on to the sparsely populated prison wing. No personal property allowed inside, so I left my hat and coat with the guards, then stepped into the waiting area.

Princess Celestia stood there, gazing down the hallway.

I froze in place. M-maybe I should come back later. If I could just sneak out without her hearing—

She looked over and met my eyes. She… she… Princess Celestia, and all I could think to do was to get out of here. I’d looked up to her for so long, so why’d I just want to beat cheeks for the exit?

She smiled, and in that instant, I’d never felt so warm. “S-sorry,” I said, finally remembering myself enough to bow deeply. “Your Highness.” I’d never been this close to her before. Well, once, at my graduation. But I’d never spoken to her.

“Gumshoe. Rise, please,” she said. I stood, my eyes still fixed on the floor. “Look up.”

I stared at the… the chest piece she wore. Whatever that thing is called. “Please,” she continued, and I matched her gaze. “I am more than satisfied with what you accomplished on this case. You have made quite a name for yourself.”

Just as quickly, I stared at the wall beside her. But I could see a small frown. “Well… Golden Shield did all the detective work. I only followed his lead.”

“Do not discount your ability to understand the clues. But, more to the point, I was referring to your bravery. And your presence, here and now, attests to your compassion.” She gave me a gentle smile that meant more than any medal ever could. “You know—sometimes, if I get a spare moment, I go up to one of the castle’s towers,” she said, waving a hoof toward the ceiling. “Only once every few months, maybe. I look down over the city, and I am pleased to see it function so well. It reminds me that I have many ponies of good character watching it for me, so that I do not need to do so myself.”

I almost laughed. My mouth hung open as I sought in vain for a good response, but I was never good at that kind of thing. Office banter, yeah, but what would I say to a princess? Even at the best of times, I only had a couple sacks’ worth of hammers rattling around upstairs, and now I’d as likely find myself on the wrong side of a cell door for not showing proper respect.

Princess Celestia waited a minute, probably to see if I’d say anything, then motioned me toward the guard that had arrived. He led me down the hall and into a large room with powerful lights shining from every angle, preventing any shadows. Flipping on a similar set of lights within the room’s smaller inner chamber, he unlocked the door and let me in.

I knelt down near where Star Shine lay huddled in the corner, ears straight back, like a dog in a pound. “Hi there, Shine. How are you doing?” He shrugged and creased his brow a little further. I sank the rest of the way to the floor.

Finally, he said in a tiny voice, “I’m nothing now.”

“No, you’re not,” I said, putting a hoof on his shoulder.

“My parents both went to school there. I couldn’t let them down, but... I’m no good at magic.” I thought I felt him shake. If only I knew why. Probably still intimidated by his mother, if nothing else. “I needed help. Then I found it.”

“It made your magic more powerful?” He nodded. “And you think you needed that to define yourself?” He shrugged.

I raised his chin so he’d look me in the eye. “I’m like most unicorns. I can only cast a couple of spells well. Do you think less of me for it?” Star Shine couldn’t turn away, so he rolled his eyes downward and shook his head as much as he could. “If that was really your talent, don’t you think you would have gotten a cutie mark for it by now?” I let his chin go so he could look at his blank flank.

“I-I never thought of that.” He glanced back up, letting his shoulders relax and perking his ears up halfway.

I tousled his mane as I stood up to leave—the guard had tapped on the door. Limited visitation for now, I guess. At least he was in a little better cheer, but I didn’t like the hint of a smirk I thought I saw tugging at the corners of his mouth.

I walked back out of the cell and stood by Princess Celestia’s side as the guard locked up. Damn kids. Maybe I was better off not having any. But for the third or fourth time today, just thinking about Star Shine made me do something I couldn’t before, even a few minutes ago: speak to her, unprompted. “Princess?” I said.

“Yes, detective?”

How’d she get her mane to flow like that, even in the dead air of a stone prison? “Does anypony visit him?”

She nodded. “His parents come each day.”

“I… I think his mother knew about this. Not about Golden Shield, though. She guaranteed he’d ace the placement test. And the attack on her seemed… staged to me.”

Princess Celestia had already started nodding before I finished talking. “I agree. But I think she merely let it happen. I do not think she encouraged it. Still, I will follow up on that. It is a judicial matter now.”

“Yes, Princess.” I bowed again, but she gave a faint shake of her head, so I straightened up. “Is… is it real? The curse?” If anypony knew for sure, she would. “Him being albino and all.”

She gave me a curious stare, and my heart thudded up in my throat. “I never put any stock in that,” I said, “but… when I actually saw it…”

The warmth returned to her face as she flicked her eyes back toward Star Shine’s cell. “Not in that sense. I have never encountered something quite like this before, but it is not in any way inherent to albinism.”

Good. The thought of someone destined for trouble, no matter what… it didn’t sit right with me. Still, that poor kid.

She must have seen me frown. “Do not worry,” Princess Celestia said. I don’t know how a voice can radiate love, but I sure felt it—for Star Shine, for me. She wasn’t angry. And somehow, I wasn’t either. My friend, Golden Shield, and yet I only wanted to see the kid turn everything around, see something good come out of all this.

“Thus far, he has not told me where that… thing came from. I understand enough about how it works to starve it off him, but I cannot rule out the possibility that he will simply replace it with another.” A wispy sigh sounded, and for only half a second, the wall came down. Princess Celestia, without instant knowledge of what to do.

“We will get him the help he needs. I will see to it personally. Once we have the creature removed, the real work begins: healing the mind and somehow dealing with what he has done. It may take a while, but eventually he will realize he does not need it.” She smiled at me again, her eyes twinkling. “I hope you will visit occasionally. It will make a difference.”

And now that the time had come to leave, I… I could have stayed there in her glow forever. Just like me to want two things that can’t both happen at once. Finally getting to meet her but being scared to death of her. Loving a job with odd hours but preoccupied with thoughts of a family. Bah. I had a city to protect. For her. “Yes, Your Highness,” I said with a quick nod, then claimed my hat and coat on my way out.

Stepping into the sunlight outside the castle, I looked up and over my shoulder at the spires almost directly overhead. You don’t need to watch, Princess Celestia. I do my best. I really do.

Author's Notes:

The title is part of a line from Dylan Thomas's poem "Do not go gentle into that good night." I love the poem, and I've borrowed titles from it three or four times. It's not a thematic tie in this case, just that the words themselves, out of context, applied quite well.

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