Login

Monsters

by Sharpe Quill

Chapter 3: Chapter 2: Questions

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Monsters

By Sharpe Quill

Chapter 2: Questions



Belle stared numbly at the small bodies lying before her. There were no discernible features left that could positively identify them, but she already knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they were the missing fillies.

She had brushed off their disappearance as simple foal’s play. Not something to be worried about.

Now they were gone. Forever. She had failed, and they had paid for it with their lives.

She should have tried harder. She should have checked the docks herself, put all her guards on the case. She should have taken it more seriously.

In her years as a town guard, both before and during her tenure as captain, Belle had experienced her share of failures. Sometimes things didn’t go her way. Sometimes she wasn’t fast enough. Sometimes the bad pony won. It was a simple fact of life: you just couldn’t win them all.

And yes, very occasionally somepony would get hurt, usually the pony causing the trouble, but sometimes even innocent ponies. But never before had anypony died as a result, certainly never a filly.

Death was natural part of life, and Belle had seen her share of it. Dock was primarily a shipyard, and when so many ponies were moving so much so often accidents were bound to happen. She had seen ponies horribly crushed by collapsed crates, trapped and drowned in the river, fall from great heights before any pony could catch them, and once she had even seen a whole sleuth of bugbears rampage out of the nearby forest, killing three ponies before they were themselves destroyed. But none of those had been caused by her own failure.

A gentle nudge to her flank brought her out of her self-recriminations. Turning, she saw Em standing just behind her, her eyes shining with tears. She slightly nodded her head to the side. Turning, Belle saw Brine standing on her right, between herself and Shining Star. His face had tightened into a grimace as he looked at the pitiful sight before them.

Em was right, Belle couldn’t break down now, she was the captain of the guard and she had a job to do. At the very least she owed it to Ink and Peach to find out what had happened to their children.

Ink and Peach. They were going to be devastated by this.

With a strong effort of will, Belle drew herself together, donning the now familiar mask of authority. “Corporal Keen.”

“Ma’am,” he acknowledged, his voice steady but his expression grim.

“Inform the medical ponies about this,” she ordered, her voice level but with a tense anger beneath it, “have them bring a cart to take the bodies away. I don’t want them in this Celestia-damned Tartarus-hole any longer than necessary.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said at once. He paused before adding, “Do you want me to inform the families?”

Belle had to swallow before answering. “No, I… I’ll do that myself.”

Keen nodded, sympathy evident on his face for a moment. He saluted and leapt into the air, his wings beating the air heavily as he went to follow his commands. Belle turned back, her gaze constantly returning to poor fillies’ bodies.

“Constable Shining,” Belle said. When she didn’t receive an acknowledgement, she looked at the tan unicorn mare. Shining was technically a rookie, despite having been on the force for almost a year, and she had never seen anything like this. She was staring, horrified, at the pitiful remains before them, looking sicker and sicker by the second.

“Constable Shining!” Belle said again, louder, with as much authority as she could muster. This snapped the mare out of her shocked staring. She faced Belle, her eyes full of sorrow.

“Er, yes… yes ma’am?” Her voice had a tinny quality to it and sounded weaker than usual.

“I want you to wait here until the medics arrive, and then assist them in any way they need. Help them move the… the bodies if necessary. If that happens, you are to treat them with the utmost respect. Understood?”

Shining Star gave a salute with a trembling hoof. “Ye… yes ma’am.”

Belle nodded, turning her attention to Em. “Sergeant Emerald.”

Em, realizing the seriousness of the situation, knew this wasn’t the time for the familiarity she and her friend usually shared. “Ma’am.”

“Inform Sergeant Oak about this. This place is officially a crime scene. Have Corporal Snowflake retrieve the camera, I want as many photos as possible before the bodies are removed and before the site becomes any more contaminated. After that, accompany the bodies to the hospital. For the time being, this is to be considered an accident, but something smells fishy about all this and I don’t want to rule anything out just yet. I want you to help Soil in examining the bodies, check for any signs of magical foul play.”

She realized just how hard a task that would be for the gentle unicorn. Official procedure be damned, Em was her friend and this was a horrible thing to ask of her, so she added, “I know this is difficult, but it needs to be done, and I trust you to do it best.”

Em swallowed nervously before nodding hesitantly and giving her own salute. “Um… Of course, Captain.” Her voice came out even lower than usual. She turned and began to pick her way back through the ruined warehouse to follow out her orders.

“Come with me, Brine,” Belle said evenly before turning to make her own way out.

Surprisingly, the stallion complied without a word to her brusqueness, picking his way through the ashes carefully. Without a unicorn to light their way, the journey was harrowing in the dim light of the lampposts. Belle stumbled more than once but resolutely continued without pausing or slowing down. The horror of the discovery was beginning to fade, replaced steadily by anger. Somepony had died in her town on her watch! She was going to get to the bottom of this, and if somepony had been responsible, then Celestia herself wouldn’t save them from her!

When they finally exited the burned out remains and clopped lightly onto the stone section of the pier, Belle rounded on Brine, heedless of his retainers who had remained outside but were still nearby.

“Alright, Brine,” she growled, “you’re going to tell me everything you know about this, right now.”

Brine frowned at her. “And what makes you think that I know anything?”

“Because you know everything that goes on around here. Somepony must have seen them. I want to know who, and when.”

He shook his head, casting a glance to either side of Belle. It was a meaningful glance, but she ignored it. “Look,” he said, “I heard about them going missing, but that’s all. I assumed they’d turn up in a few hours, none the worse for wear, and didn’t spare much thought for it. I get the feeling you did something similar.”

Belle flinched slightly and blushed in embarrassment. Brine nodded, his assumptions confirmed. “Odds are it was just an unfortunate accident. The foals must have wandered in, been in the wrong place at the wrong time. In fact it’s possible that they may have accidentally caused the fire themselves.”

Belle closed her eyes with a low snarl. The thought had occurred to her too, but she hadn’t wanted to admit it. She slumped slightly, weariness beginning to overcome her. She was so tired, and she still had so much to do.

To her surprise, Brine’s face softened slightly. “Why don’t you get some sleep, Belle.” He put a companionable hoof on her shoulder. “It’s been a difficult evening for all of us. You look like you’re about to collapse.”

Belle brushed the hoof off angrily. “Don’t coddle me, Brine. I’m about to go destroy the lives of two families forever. Do you think they’re ever going to be able to sleep soundly again?” It came out harsher than she had intended but she didn’t care. When he didn’t respond she pushed on. “This isn’t over. We’ll talk again soon.”

Brine nodded, the familiar scowl returning. He glanced over his shoulder, spotting the still illuminated form of Constable Shining Star, marking the spot where two small fillies’ lives had been tragically cut short. “Yes,” he agreed, his voice barely a whisper, “yes we will.”

Without another word Belle turned, barely noticing the two large stallions who were now much closer behind her than she remembered them being, and trotted away.

********************

The next few hours were the most difficult of Belle’s life. She found Peach Blossom and Ink Leaf together in one of their houses, along with their husbands, Willow and Shade respectively, meaning she only had to deliver her terrible news once. Thank Celestia for small favors.

She would never forget for as long as she lived the looks of horror and utter despair on the faces of the two mares. There had been tears and sobs that evoked such hurt and pain that it tore at Belle’s very soul. She herself had begun to cry, unable to retain her detached stoicism in the face of such sorrow. Neither Ink nor Peach, nor their husbands, were close friends of Belle, but nopony could be unsympathetic to such pain.

None of the ponies blamed her for not finding the fillies in time. She almost wished they had, it might have been more bearable than their agonized sobs. And she couldn’t help but feel that she deserved it.

She had promised them that she would get to the bottom of the fillies’ deaths, but she knew it was an empty gesture. Nothing would bring their fillies back. Nothing would provide the comfort they so desperately needed.

The absolute worst part, however, was that when she had departed, they had actually thanked her for bringing the news. Thanked her. For destroying their lives, for failing them, for casting a darkness upon them that may never lift, they had thanked her. She hung her head in shame as she walked.

In the predawn hours the streets were empty. Even after the excitement of the fire, nopony was out and about at this hour. She walked without seeing, without caring, alone in the darkness.

Eventually, she found herself standing in front of the town hospital. It was a two-story building painted a pleasant mixture of white, pink, and yellow. Even in the meager light cast by the street lamps it exuded a calming presence. And yet, it couldn’t soothe her anger or her sorrow. Despite how late it was (or early, depending on one’s perspective), several windows glowed, belying sompony’s activities, most likely the rooms of the ponies injured in the fire.

Wearily, she squared her shoulders and pushed the double doors open, entering the main atrium of the building. Inside, the nurse at the desk was nodding sleepily, weary eyes obviously not focused on the magazine lying open on the desk in front of her. Her head jerked up and she blinked hazily at Belle as she entered. When she recognized her, she shook her head vigorously, trying to wake herself up. Finally she was able to focus fully and smiled weakly.

“Belle,” she greeted, “I’d wish you a good evening, but given the circumstances…” She trailed off smile fading, sadness evident in her voice.

“Nurse Stripe,” Belle acknowledged formally with an answering nod, unable to muster any warmth into the greeting, “where are they?”

“Um, in the basement, I think. Soil received them and he’s doing what he can. I believe Emerald is down there with him.”

Belle managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Candy.”

Nurse Candy Stripe nodded her head genially before turning back to her magazine, tired eyes already beginning to revert back to their glazed semi-conscious state.

Belle followed the trail of oil lamps which lined the long, empty halls of the hospital, her hooves echoing slightly as she trotted. In truth, without the aid of the sun from the large windows at either end of the hall, the lamps provided only small islands of light in a river of shadow. She felt a shiver run along her spine. She found hospitals rather unnerving at the best of times but tonight, with the absence of other ponies, the unusually late hour, the odd lighting, and her own weariness and stress, it felt downright haunting.

As she turned the corner that would take her to the stairs, she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye further down the main corridor, almost as though somepony had dashed across the hallway. She did a double take, staring intently into the shadows at the end of the hall. She even raised her tinted glasses momentarily, trying to get a better look.

Nothing.

Her ears perked, swiveling occasionally in an attempt to pick up the faintest sound of hoofsteps, but she heard nothing. She shook her head. She was more tired than she realized if she was beginning to see things.

She quickly trotted down the side hallway and pushed open the door leading to the broad stairs. As she descended, she could feel the temperature begin to drop. The basement of the hospital was bisected into two main areas by yet another hallway, even worse lit than the ones above. On her right were the hospital’s supply rooms, the custodian closet, and the water boiler. On the left was her destination: the morgue.

Dock’s morgue was not what one would expect considering its purpose. For one thing, despite its required low temperature, it had warm, almost cheery decorations. The walls had been painted orange and had several posters pinned to them. One such poster depicted a stylized rendition of the famous Wonderbolts, advertising one of their airshows from a few years ago. Another proudly displayed a gorgeous, yet demure pegasus with a long, flowing mane and tail modeling a beautiful dress, advertising some kind of new fruit drink; it had a tiny, barely noticeable signature scrawled in the lower right corner. Yet another poster showed a trio of almost unnaturally handsome unicorn stallions in dynamic poses levitating a variety of musical instruments, The Bridle Bunch scrawled at the bottom in highly stylized letters. Soft music played softly from a phonograph on a table in the corner.

In truth, were it not for the harsh reality of two sheet-covered bodies on small tables in the center of the room, Belle could almost convince herself that she was not in a room designed to accommodate the dead more than the living.

Rounding out the unusual and unexpected appearance of the room was the presence of the last pony one would expect to be a mortician: an overly cheery lime-green pegasus with a sandy brown mane by the name of Soil.

Soil was a bit of a puzzle. For one thing, he never gave his last name (Belle, who herself used only one of her names, could respect that, and didn’t pry), and was rather secretive about his past. But he had a seemingly perpetual cheerfulness about him that was quite infectious, even if he was rather overzealously zany at times. He liked to laugh and he liked to make other ponies laugh.

Ten years ago he had shown up in Dock, and set up Soil’s Funeral Home, and Taco Hut (“Turn your funeral into a Fiesta!”), much to the horror of the locals. But he somehow managed to make the ridiculous notion work. He treated the dead with respect and never came across as mocking to the grieving families. He even managed to bring a little happiness into the ordeal; to bring some light on the darkest of days.

Besides, his three-bean tacos were really good.

Belle was used to his sometimes manic cheerfulness, but tonight she was understandably not in the mood for his regular shenanigans. Luckily, when she returned his usual friendly wave with a grim glower, obvious even through her glasses, he realized her mood and dialed it back.

Soil immediately went back to examining one of the bodies, the sheet covering only half the form. He had donned some kind of rubbery boots over his forehooves as he gently examined the body, pausing occasionally to take a quill from a nearby stand in his mouth and scribble something on a form, or to take a sip through a large bendy straw out of a massive cup filled with some form of soda or other. The stallion was an addict.

Em was in one of the corners, trying unsuccessfully to look innocuous. She looked nauseous.

Belle approached the gurneys cautiously. She flinched slightly at the sight of the half uncovered form but forced herself to look, to see the fruits of her failure. Butter and Coal, she remembered. She would never forget. She looked up at Soil. “What can you tell me?”

Soil paused in his work to glance over at the form on the table. “Well, it’s rather odd,” he said with a slight twitch.

“Odd? Odd how?”

Soil went back to his examination of the second filly. “Well,” he said, heedless of the way his nonchalant handling of the body seemed to make Belle uneasy, “I’m working on the second victim now. The first was, for the most part, not unusual for intense burning, but I found several deep lacerations along the neck.” He was interrupted by another slight twitch. “I might have thought them just over large blisters, but they’re parallel to each other and go deep into the muscle, not just the skin.”

“And what does that mean?” Belle asked. “Was she attacked by something?”

Soil shrugged, his slight hovering made the motion overly exaggerated. “Dunno, but it’s possible. So far there’s nothing like that on this one.” He hummed quietly to himself as he continued, completely focusing on his work now.

Belle trotted over to Em. “Are you alright, Em?” she asked, knowing what the answer was already.

Em shook her head without looking at her, unable to look away from the grisly sight before them. “No, I’m not. Who could be?”

Not knowing how to respond, Belle merely nodded before pressing on. “Did you find any evidence of magic?”

Em shook her head again. “No. As far as I can tell, magic didn’t factor into their deaths. But…” She trailed off, a thoughtful look now encroaching on her sickened expression.

“But what?” Belle prodded.

“But something feels off. It’s like when you see something out of the corner of your eye but when you look it’s not there. I thought for a second that I felt something, but I have no idea what. It’s difficult to describe. I’m sorry.”

Belle patted her shoulder gently with one hoof. “Don’t worry about it for now, Em. But it’s something to keep in mind. If you can, find out more about it. Head back to the warehouse again, see if you can pick anything up there.” She paused, studying her friend’s face carefully. “After you get some rest. You look dead on your hooves.”

Em snorted and shook her mane. Finally, she looked at her friend, her eyes had a haunted look to them. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep for a long time after this,” she whispered sadly.

Belle nodded, she knew exactly what Em was talking about. “Even so, you should try. I’m going to need you fresh in case there’s more to this than an unhappy accident. Go on, I’ll hang around in case Soil finds anything else.”

Em sighed but began to move towards the door, a mixture of relief and guilt on her face. Belle wanted to comfort her, but she didn’t know how, not for something like this.

When the unicorn was gone she turned her attention back to the pegasus mortician, who was still doing… something… with the bodies, she couldn’t really tell what. He hummed along with the soft music as he worked, and he would alternate between hovering a few inches off the ground or clopping around lightly on his hooves. He seemed to be constantly in motion, most likely a by-product of all the soda he drank. It probably accounted for his nervous twitch too, but she couldn’t be sure.

Suddenly he froze, even his wings going still, causing him to drop the few inches to the ground. Belle noticed the sudden lack of movement and looked up from the table of tools he had against one wall.

“What is it?” she asked instantly. “What did you find?”

“Something unusual.” He beckoned her over with a nod of his head, or perhaps that was just another twitch. Either way, she trotted up to stand next to him, forcing herself to look at the grisly scene before her.

Soil gently cradled the filly’s head in his covered hooves and moved it slightly. It seemed to roll unnaturally, as though not connected to the rest of the body. Belle said as much to him.

“That’s because it isn’t,” he responded. “The vertebrae in the neck have been completely severed. The fire hid the obvious evidence from us, but it looks like her neck was broken. And it was broken before the fire.”

“What could have caused it?”

Soil twitched and shrugged. “A fall maybe, although I haven’t found any evidence of other broken bones. It’s almost as though a strong blow struck her directly in the neck. Put together with the lacerations from the before, it might have been caused by a direrabbit, but you don’t see those outside of Lepusia.”

Belle froze. What?

She had to ask. “What in Celestia’s name is a direrabbit?”

Soil glanced up at her with a raised eyebrow. “Never heard of a direrabbit? Bah, count yourself lucky. Mean buggers. Grow damn fine carrots, but don’t touch their cabbages. They get real picky about their cabbages.” He punctuated that statement with another twitch.

Belle gave him a skeptical look. “Alrighty then… moving on.” She cleared her throat. “So what you’re telling me is that these poor fillies were dead before the fire?”

“It does seem likely, although there’s no way to know with absolute certainty.”

This changed things significantly. “What can you tell me about whatever did this?”

“Um…” *twitch* “not much I’m afraid. It obviously has claws or talons of some kind with at least four toes, judging by the lacerations on this body.” He indicated the still-covered form. “And that it’s immensely strong to have broken a neck like this.” He paused to think. “I once saw a manticore break the back of a goat, paralyzing it but not killing it. It was toying with it, prolonging its suffering.” Soil’s voice, usually so light, and cheerful, was unusually serious. After a pause, and a twitch, he added thoughtfully, “And they have four toes on their paws.”

“So there’s a manticore loose in my city?” Belle asked, unable to keep all traces of skepticism completely out of her voice. “Wouldn’t somepony have seen it by now?”

Soil shrugged with yet another twitch. “Most likely. They’re not known for their intelligence.”

Well, it was something to consider at least. “Thank you, Soil. If you find out anything else, let me know at once. I should get this information to the guard house.”

Soil’s face broke out into a cheerful grin. “Anytime, Belle, whatever I can do to help. Should I have your usual ready for you this afternoon?”

Belle hesitated. She was exhausted but there was still work that needed to be done, who knew if she would be able to partake in her guilty pleasure. “I don’t know; we’ll have to see. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day.”

Wearily she trotted out of the room.

By the time Belle reached the guard house dawn was beginning to approach. There was no tell- tale glow in the sky as of yet, but the air had that sense of anticipation; as though the world was holding its breath, waiting for the first break of a new day.

She entered the building and approached Morning Dew, the guard’s other rookie, who was on desk duty and looking bored out of his mind. Except in extreme circumstances, such as during the fire, a guard was always supposed to be at the Guard House, and they had a regular rotation. Morning particularly disliked the job. The young hotheaded unicorn hated being cooped up and longed to be out, patrolling, training, anything but just sitting. As Belle approached, she saw that he had been absentmindedly doodling on a blank parchment. She determinedly ignored that.

He threw her a quick salute. “Captain, it’s been all quiet since the fire.” His bored voice made it quite clear what he thought of that. “Sergeant Oak left a report on your desk, Corporal Keen checked in for the night, Corporal Snowflake and Constable Shining are still on patrol at the docks.”

“Thank you, Constable.” She forcibly repressed a yawn. “I’ll be in my office.”

He saluted again and she trotted into her office. The report from Oak didn’t give any new information. Preliminary investigations into the fire had come up empty. No new evidence had been found as of yet in the remains of the building, either about the deaths of the fillies or about the source of the fire. No new witnesses had approached. In short: the investigation was on-going.

Belle sighed. She supposed it was too much to hope that this could possibly have had a quick ending. Another yawn overcame her, and this time, without witnesses, she allowed it to stretch her jaws. She realized that she hadn’t slept at all in almost a whole day. How she longed for her nice soft bed with…

Oh horseapples, she had never returned home. Lemon must be worried sick about her. He had been expecting her shortly after the threat from the fire had passed but it had been hours since they had parted at the docks. He didn’t even know what had happened since then.

Guilt gnawed at her as she took a quill in her mouth and began to dexterously write out a note, explaining briefly what had happened, apologizing for not letting him know sooner and causing him to worry. When she had finished she trotted back into the main room and gave the letter to Morning.

“Morning,” she said, “take this to my home. If Lemon answers, give him this, if not, then just leave it on the doorstep. Remember to go to the side door down the alley.”

He saluted and took the scroll, clearly glad to be up and about, and not stuck behind a desk. Once he was gone, Belle went back to her own desk. Taking up the quill once again, she began to write up her report, based on her own observations and on Soil’s findings. It wasn’t much more than what Oak had reported, but it was important that everything be recorded.

Finally she dropped the quill and wearily laid her head onto the desk surface with a sigh.

Exhaustion began to overcome her. She couldn’t sleep though. Not yet.

She cudgeled her exhausted brain into coming up with something. She tried laying out the facts in an orderly way, referring to the different reports as necessary.

Fact one: Sometime that afternoon, the two fillies, Coal and Butter, had gone missing. Whether they wandered off on their own or somepony had lured them away was as of yet unknown.

Fact two: At some point during the few hours between their disappearance and the start of the fire they had either gone into or been brought to the warehouse.

Fact three: They had died before the fire was set, most likely removing them from the list of suspects for how the fire started. What evidence there was hinted towards some kind of unknown creature being the killer.

Fact four: A warehouse that was supposed to be empty but clearly wasn’t had gone up in flame.

Fact five: Other than the wounds on the children, there was no other evidence or witnesses to corroborate the existence of a beast.

Conclusion: …

Nothing. She just wasn’t smart enough to figure this out on her own, at least not without more information.

She stared at the wooden surface resting against her cheek, trying to will it to give her the answer. This was beyond anything that had ever happened in Dock, let alone during her tenure as Captain, and she suspected that she may be in over her head. She was too tired, couldn’t think straight.

And this wood was surprisingly comfortable…

********************

A gentle prodding roused Belle from her slumber. She woke with a start, staring around her in confusion. Em stood next to her, a gentle hoof against her shoulder. Belle blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog of sleep from her head. She groaned. “Em? What… what’s going on?”

“You fell asleep,” Em whispered. There was no reproach in her voice, but a hint of something else; concern maybe.

“Oh horseapples,” Belle sighed, letting her forehead hit the desk with a slight thump. “What time is it?”

“Just after noon.”

Belle sat there, trying to organize her thoughts. After a few moments Em cleared her throat surreptitiously. “I brought you some lunch.” She levitated a small paper bag with a stylized cartoon taco printed on the side onto the desk close to Belle’s head.

The sight, and the accompanying smell, caused Belle’s stomach to growl. She slowly reached out and upended the sack, revealing a carefully wrapped three bean soft taco. She inhaled the glorious scent briefly before unwrapping it and beginning to graze hungrily. A taco might not have been the best thing to eat so soon after waking up, but it wasn’t on her list of things to worry about.

“Thanks, Em.” she mumbled between bites. “Any news?”

“Not much. Soil finished his report.” She levitated several sheets of paper onto the desk, away from the greasy mess of Belle’s lunch.

“Did you read it?”

“Of course.”

“Thoughts?”

Em shrugged. “Hard to say really. If this was the work of some kind of creature, like Soil’s findings suggest, then what started the fire?”

Belle considered this. “It could be that the fillies started it themselves, maybe in an attempt to defend themselves. I’m more curious about how a creature big enough to inflict that type of damage managed to disappear without a trace.”

“Well, actually, I think the answer might be obvious.”

This caught Belle’s attention and she looked up at her friend. “Do tell.”

“Well, the warehouses. The majority of them are empty these days, and they’re large enough to hide something that large easily. In fact the whole dock area has enough alleys and buildings on it for something fairly large to move about fairly easily I’m sure.”

Belle paused to consider this. It made sense, only a few of the buildings on the waterfront were in use these days. But even so, it seemed unlikely that anypony or anything could be using one without somepony knowing about it.

Unless, of course, somepony most likely did know about it, and simply hadn’t told her: Brine.

They needed to have a talk.

She finished the last of the taco with not a small amount of satisfaction. “Em, I’m going to have a talk with Brine. Where’s Keen?”

Em rolled her eyes. “Where else? In the practice yard.”

Belle nodded. The pegasus was devoted, no question there. She stood up and stretched with a wince. It turned out that ‘slumped over a desk’ was not a good position for sleeping. “Alright, I’m going to take him with me to the docks, it’s time I did some personal investigations. I believe Oak is due to report in in a few hours, update him on the situation and have him be ready to investigate the warehouses. Are the photos from last night ready yet?”

Em glanced at the clock on the wall of the office. “They should be ready soon. I dropped them off at Light Flash’s first thing this morning.”

“Good. I want them on my desk as soon as possible.”

“Of course, Belle,” Em whispered with a nod.

Belle trotted around her desk and out of her office. The main room was empty, which meant that Em was the pony on desk duty today. No surprises there, she had always preferred the quiet work, away from any potential conflict.

In the equipment room she deftly donned her armor and buckled it in place with practiced motions. She briefly considered taking a spear from the rack also but decided against it. Her hooves had served her well so far and they suited her just fine. She also forewent the stifling helmet as usual. After checking to make sure all was in order, she slipped into a camera rig too, just in case, situating the trigger a few inches below her mouth. Feeling prepared, she trotted out.

Behind the main guard house lay the practice yard. Two lines of stuffed practice dummies were spaced out at dozen pace intervals. It all seemed quiet, but Belle could feel tenseness in the air, a sense of expectation; although perhaps that was simply because she had witnessed Keen’s practices before and knew what was coming.

Without warning, a blurred streak descended from the sky. It went right past two of the practice dummies seemingly without actually touching them, except for a resounding thwacking sound followed by the stuffed forms shuddering violently. The blur coalesced into the familiar shape of Keen Edge as he struck a third dummy with his front hooves. He curled inward and, planting his hind hooves, used the motion to springboard himself away, striking a fourth target in the second line. The curved practice blade held in his mouth struck yet another as he fought to regain his initial speed, his wings beating the air vigorously. He twisted at the last second before striking a sixth dummy with a vicious buck from his hind legs. His hooves struck ground momentarily as he reversed direction yet again. With a leap, he took off, blazing past two more forms in line, his blunted weapon striking them each at the ‘neck.’ He finally reached the last dummy and performed a tight spin, briefly forming a short tornado of wings, hooves, and weapon. The last target dummy shuddered multiple times before finally succumbing to the onslaught, a seam tearing, and spilling thick woolen stuffing onto the ground. Keen landed on the ground in a splayed ready stance, breathing quickly but evenly.

Sure that he had finished his routine, Belle approached him, shaking her head. “That’s the third dummy this month, Keen. It’s getting to be a bad habit.”

He spat out the practice weapon before acknowledging her with a nod. “Ma’am.”

“Suit up. You and I are heading to the docks. I’ll explain on the way.”

About a half hour later, Belle and Keen, now wearing his lighter quilted barding with the real curved sword strapped to his side underneath a wing, approached the burnt remains of the warehouse. In the light of day the ruined building looked more sad than dangerous. Charred wood and scattered ashes were all that remained. Already several squads of ponies, unicorns mostly, were engaged in the removal and disposal of the debris.

After exchanging a brief greeting with one of the town’s dock-masters, who were generally responsible for the upkeep of the docks as well as the official owners of most of the warehouses, Belle and Keen moved into the wreckage. Belle carefully picked her way to what remained of the back offices while Keen simply hovered above the blackened remains. Eventually they reached what remained of the back offices, where the bodies had been found. Belle began searching the area, trying to find anything to support the theory of the presence of a beast.

It proved a fruitless search, however. The fire had destroyed any possible evidence. Belle sighed in frustration. “Do you see anything, Keen?”

Keen dropped down from what remained of the upper floors, flapping his wings rapidly as he landed. “Nothing, it seems that the fire has destroyed the majority of the furniture. Only a back corner of one room was mostly undamaged, but except for half a couch, there’s nothing to be found.”

“I suppose it was too much to hope for.” She would have to rely on the photos from the previous night, although she was beginning to doubt they would be of much use either. “Alright, let’s go talk to Brine.”

Keen merely nodded, charitably not commenting on how much of a waste of time this had been. After making their way out of the rubble, the two guards trotted down the dock, making for The Hole. Only one ship was currently moored at one of the jetties, The Star’s Retreat. Belle recognized it as the ship Brine had mentioned the previous day, the one on which the pony who had first reported the fire was serving. Interesting, although it might just be coincidence; she filed that information into the back of her mind, just in case.

The tavern was uncharacteristically quiet, even considering the time of day. It was surprisingly dark inside, enough that Belle felt comfortable lifting her tinted glasses, and only two tables had any ponies sitting at them. No music played now and the only employee in sight was the barpony, a unicorn mare named Tumbler Glass, who was busy cleaning glasses with magic, and at the same time dexterously tossing and flipping various bottles with her hooves. Belle trotted up to the bar, Keen silently followed close behind her, his eyes darting cautiously around the room.

“Hello, Miss Glass,” Belle greeted, “I’m here to see Brine.”

“Captain,” the bartender acknowledged, carefully replacing two bottles onto the bar top. “I’m afraid Mr. Brine isn’t here at the moment.”

“Well, where is he?” Belle tried her best to keep the anger out of her voice, it wasn’t the unicorn’s fault that Brine wasn’t here.

The unicorn shrugged. “He doesn’t tell me everything. I’m sure he’ll be back this evening though, he’s always here for the night hours. Do you want to leave a message for him?”

Belle grunted. “No, he knows what I’m going to talk to him about.” She paused, a thought occurring to her. “Do you know anything about what happened yesterday? Or did Brine happen to mention anything to you?”

“I’m afraid not,” Tumbler said with a shrug, “I slept through the whole thing, only heard about it all this morning.”

“Well, if you hear about anything unusual or out of the ordinary, let me know, will you?”

Tumbler smiled. “Of course, Captain.”

“Thank you.”

Belle turned to go. It was looking like this entire trip had been a waste of time. She’d have to hope something showed up on the photos taken the previous night, and that Brine would have some new information for her when she finally got a hold of him.

She exited the building, closely followed by Keen, ducking her head so that her glasses were once again in place. She turned to head back to the guard house, dejected at her failure.

“Any thoughts, Keen?” she asked.

“No, ma’am.”

“I don’t suppose you have any suggestions about what we should do next?”

“That would be a negative, ma’am.”

She glanced back at him. The cheeky grin on his face fled so quickly that she wasn’t entirely sure it had ever been there. “Well, if you happen to, don’t keep me in suspense.”

“Of course not.”

She chuckled and turned back around. She happened to glance up, towards the edge of town, and froze. There, rising above the roofs of the remaining warehouses, a column of thick, black smoke was rising into the air.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me!”

Author's Notes:

Once again, a huge thanks to my editor Expository Brony for his proofreading and encouragement.

As always, MLP and its characters are © Hasbro and Lauren Faust respectively.

All OCs, however, are purely mine.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3: Speculation Estimated time remaining: 4 Hours, 56 Minutes
Return to Story Description

Login

Facebook
Login with
Facebook:
FiMFetch