València Fierropezuña

---

València Fierropezuña, Fourth rank of the Temple of the Righteous Hatchets, felt her stomach turning upside-down. As if everything else that had happened recently wasn't enough, now Marcos, a Sixth rank of the Swarming Meteors, had been imprisoned for violating the Great Mother's Edict of Blood, a law which forbade Child-against-Child bloodshed except in supervised training situations. In doing so he also disobeyed his own mother, Carmen, to whom until now he had appeared fervently loyal.

But Carmen had recently ordered that the Royal Engineer and his group be allowed unmolested access to the Rookery. A group which included her own daughter, Pureza -- that treacherous cave-viper -- apparently now restored to Her Reverence's good graces.

Nothing made sense.

Well, maybe not nothing. Marcos' violation, at least, was a little understandable. After all, wasn't it the Reverend Mother Superior herself who ordered that the Rookery be kept absolutely closed to Equestrians? And who, after Pureza disobeyed her orders to go into service for that surface-Lord, demanded also that her comings and goings be strictly controlled? And who was widely believed to have secretly instructed Marcos to slander her name and call for her ostracism, if not her blood?

Well… Maybe rumors were just rumors.

València heard a number of hoofsteps growing closer; and one of them had five 'hooves.'

‘Hmm…’

Perhaps she’d learn the truth of it soon enough.

From behind her desk, she witnessed the entrance of Carmen Ébanoscudo, Reverend Mother Superior of the Children of the League of Stars, to the foyer of the Hatcheteers' Oubliette, flanked by half a dozen hooded Lunar acolytes. Immediately, València and her squad all stood up to bow in respect.

It was a bit surprising to see her here already; València would have thought she'd let Marcos stew for a day or two before coming to call on him in prison. But maybe this little visit had to do with the Meteors who came looking for their comrades, earlier.

Clutching her tall, crescent-topped staff, Mother Carmen stared at València from behind her white-powdered face.

«I will see Marcos, Sixth of Meteors, immediately.»

With all those Equestrians running around everywhere in the Rookery tonight, it was a relief to be in the exclusive presence of Children again, liberated from the Edict of Tongues, and able to converse in their native language.

Exchanging glances with her two Threes, València raised her head and then bowed again. «Yes, Your Reverence. This way, please.»

After she unlocked the iron gate which barred access further in, one of her Threes pulled it open, and València waited for Her Reverence to enter before following the Reverend Mother through. She turned to wait while the door was locked behind them.

València waved a wing in the direction of Marcos' cell, and Carmen gave her the slightest of nods.

«I will follow thee, Fourth of Hatcheteers. Lead the way.»

«Yes, Reverence.»

Moving on to the cells, València couldn’t read anything in her impassive face.

Which meant she must be absolutely furious. No doubt then that this visit was prompted by the Meteors, who must have interrupted Carmen's precious schedule.

Once València led Carmen to her son, would Her Reverence order her back to the foyer? If Carmen didn’t, she may have the chance to listen in on what could be some very juicy gossip.

Travelling down the wide corridor, València passed cell after cell. Most of them were empty; there wasn't a lot of crime in the Rookery worth imprisoning ponies over. Far easier to hold them just long enough to have them shipped back to the Moon, where they could be dealt with properly.

There was much less stringent enforcement of the Great Mother's edicts up there.

As a result of that, the Hatcheteers' Oubliette here on the home-world, under the mountain of Canterlot, hardly saw much use at all -- which was why València’s Six had to pull her and her squad off of its regular market duty rotation to take up station here. Nonetheless, for as fearsome a Star as the Sixth of Meteors, procedures still had to be followed. There was not for him the plain benches of the open holding area, as used for drunkards spending the day sleeping off their liquor, or quarrelsome Rocks who took to their hooves over some petty incident. Nor a simple bed in an ordinary cell, as for thieves who would serve out their weeks or months. The Righteous Hatcheeters had something special for dangerous offenders who committed equally dangerous crimes.

At the end of the corridor, a hinged, heavy steel grate in the floor was held in place by a thick metal rod. A chain, wound on a windlass, hung through a gap in the grate and down into the pit beneath, while an ordinary rope on another winch looped up through a pulley in the ceiling before tying up between the bars of the grate.

«He is in there, Reverence. Shall I open up the cell?»

Carmen looked down her muzzle at the hole in the ground. «Yes. And bar the door behind me.»

That was standard procedure, but the Reverend Mother could have asked for something different, if she wanted to. And València would have granted it; after all, Marcos was in no condition to cause any trouble, let alone escape.

It took her a moment to push the heavy iron rod out of its receivers, unlocking the door. Then she began to work away at the windlass, raising the floor hatch up slowly. Once it was open wide enough to enter, Carmen approached the edge, then opened her wings and stepped right off into the darkness. With an enviable grace, she floated almost straight down to the bottom of the pit, still clutching her ceremonial staff.

València peered over into the black hole, and watched as Carmen stepped up to her son, who was suspended upside-down, wrapped in and strung up by the chain supplied by the second winch. After confirming Her Reverence’s arrival, València pulled a lever to switch the ratchet mechanism the other way, then worked the windlass with her hooves in reverse.

The metal grate settled back into place with a deep clung.

Still not having heard a word from the pit, she pushed the iron locking bar back into place.

‘Well?’

‘Are they going to speak at all?’

València took up a position beside the door, facing sideways and away.

Maybe Carmen was going to order the Four back to the foyer before she scolded her son.

«Wake up, Marcos.»

‘Or maybe not…’

---

Suggested background music: Hans Zimmer - 'Progeny', from 'Gladiator' [2000]
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HEdBrKMyOW8

---

València heard a groan, and the chains rattled as Marcos struggled to wake.

«Mother. You have come for me.»

She heard the Reverend Mother sniff.

«I have not come here as thy mother, Sixth of Meteors. Thou shalt address me properly.»

There was a delay while Marcos considered what that meant.

He replied calmly, with an understandable weariness to his voice. «Reverend Mother Superior, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?»

València snuck a sideways glance back down, and saw Carmen circling her suspended progeny, slowly pacing with her staff in hoof. «Stars are supposed to bow to Lunars, Sixth of Meteors, but I suppose an exception can be made, given the circumstances.»

Marcos closed his eyes. «If Your Reverence wishes for me to bow, then she needs only command the Hatcheeters, and I can be made free to do so.»

Carmen returned to meet Marcos face-to-face.

«No, I do not think I will be doing that.» She inhaled through her nose, her nostrils flaring. «Thou hast not yet learned thy lesson, Marcos.»

That riled up her son's notorious temper. «I was carrying out YOUR orders!»

But his outburst didn’t faze her at all, and she got right up in his upside-down muzzle. «Old orders, Marcos. Old orders when thou hadst new ones to follow instead.»

Ah, so the rumors were true. It wasn't just hatred which fuelled the calumnies he had been spouting.

Or maybe it was, and he just needed her permission.

Carmen stepped away, and the Six called out after her. «Am I a spinning top, to turn immediately in whichever direction your Reverence orders?»

She noisily tapped the base of her staff against the floor, silencing him. «Thou art a Star, Marcos. Thy purpose is to obey and to enforce the laws; the laws set by the Lunars.»

That was true. It was something drilled into every Star from the moment they were chosen to enter that Phase. But he was not done arguing with her.

«Even when the laws make no sense?! First you order me to hate my sister, then you order me to embrace her?»

The Reverend Mother Superior looked coolly over her shoulder at the ranting, dangling Star.

«And LOOK at what she has done to me!»

València had witnessed that for herself already. As nasty a piece of amputation as she’d ever heard of, ripping his eye out like that. Not that she hadn't seen worse in the Grand Hall, but injuries from training didn't last long. Marcos had still been moaning in pain when they dragged him in, and those initial jail-keepers had taken unusual care to lower him slowly down into the pit, instead of just punting him off the edge on a slack chain, as was tradition. Nopony wanted to be the one responsible for telling Carmen that the Great Mother must have willed his death, if his neck had somehow snapped -- as often happened -- or if his head had cracked open from swinging against the walls -- as also often happened. Nor did anypony have any illusions about how long Marcos would stay down there, given his lineage. But from where València sat, that lineage was not looking like much of an asset.

Carmen stepped forward to examine her daughter's blade-work, leaning her staff against her shoulder before grabbing Marcos' head in her forehooves, turning him left and right. Then she let him go, the chain swinging slightly thanks to the force she’d imparted.

«Thou shouldst be grateful, Marcos. Given her profession, it is a wonder that she left thee alive.»

València remembered her own brush with the Stellar Seven. She hadn't backed down when the Four confronted her at Carmen's orders. Instead, she'd shoved back, and called València’s bluff. Having now seen the results of what should have been an even more lopsided fight in favor of the Meteors, she was secretly glad to have lost her nerve that day. Pureza with her three Equestrians and an alien monkey-biped, plus two Stellar initiates, utterly destroying fourteen Meteors? For València to have challenged them with her smaller squad of Hatcheteers would have indeed been a complete massacre, as Pureza had claimed.

However, Carmen's pithy statement didn’t put a stop to Marcos' complaints.

«Grateful!? For this? And that renegade Eclipse, Ignacio, refused to heal me! I tell you, he is in league with her, mother.»

WHAP

With blinding speed, Carmen slapped his head using one of her wings-arms, her cloak billowing outwards on one side from the sudden rush of air. València couldn’t resist turning even further back to get a good look at the expression on his face: shock, with more than a hint of indignant rage.

There was a white line where the powder from Carmen’s wing-tip was deposited on his cheek. She’d even slapped him on his injured side. That had to sting. If he wasn't bound in chains right now, who knew what he'd try to do?

The Reverend Mother Superior kept her own expression calm. «Do not address me casually again. Thou hast greatly inconvenienced me this evening, and I may humor thy questions, but I will not tolerate thy disrespect.»

Seething, Marcos struggled to keep his emotions under control. Even in the shadows cast by the bars of the grate, València could see his nostrils flare repeatedly, and he spoke through clenched teeth.

«Your Reverence has come here only to scold and taunt me, then?»

She looked idly up at the crescent moon topping her staff.

«No, as a matter of fact that is not my purpose here.»

Then she fixed her son in her gaze once more. «Thy Eight seeks an audience with thee. He has invoked the privilege of Consultation. Doubtless he will wish to invoke the privilege of Judgement as well.»

Not much of a surprise there. Criminal Stars who were still in good standing with their Schools would often be removed from the Hacheteer's oubliette, to be punished by their own masters; usually more gently. But likewise would those embarrassments to the Stars also be removed, only to be treated more harshly by their peers than they would have been under Lunar judgement. It was a system that generally kept the Stars in line, ensuring that the Hatcheteers' oubliette was host only to Rocks, Dust, and Shadows instead.

Yet if he wasn't chained up, València was sure Marcos would have shrugged at Carmen's suggestion. «So? Let him come. I have no secrets from my master. And I trust he will judge me fairly.»

At that, his mother laughed. «And let my word be made a mockery of in the Rookery here? Thou, who hast assaulted one of my honored guests, only to be released into the custody of thy Temple a day later? No, I will not be embarrassed thusly.»

The Meteor grinned weakly. «Your Reverence does not appear to have much choice in the matter.»

Surprisingly, the Reverend Mother Superior smiled back at him. Sitting down on her haunches, she leaned forward and stroked his cheek with a forehoof.

«Indeed I do not, my dear son.» The smile turned sinister. «But thou dost.»

A firm pat turned into a forceful push, and now the Sixth of Meteors was swinging back and forth in front of her, a pendulum between the walls of the pit.

«Thou hast a very important choice to make, Marcos. An easygoing trial by thy own peers is a right that thy Eight may grant thee.»

With a pained grunt, he went whooshing past in front of her again.

«But regaining thy second eye -- now, that is a privilege which only I may grant.»

She extended a forehoof in front of her, and he swung right into it, slamming into her hoof with his injured cheek, and causing the chains to jingle angrily at this abrupt halt.

«Agh!»

‘Yeah, she's pissed, all right.’

But Marcos should have known better than to go against her standing orders, whatever she may have told him before.

While her immobilized son groaned in agony, Carmen ran her forehoof all over his face. «Where did we go wrong, Marcos? Thou wert always such an obedient young colt, even though thou belongest to another House. Was it my mistake to unleash thee against thy sister, not knowing that thou wouldst refuse the collar anew?»

‘Oh, now it's getting spicy!’

Thrashing furiously against his restraints, Marcos almost snarled out at her. «She is a black stain upon our family! And upon all our kind!»

Casually, Carmen placed a hoof up on his chest and pushed him away, starting another swinging motion, fore-and-aft this time. «Truly thou hatest her, Marcos? I cannot fathom the honor-bound minds of the Stars, but the reason for thy contempt escapes me.»

As he passed her by, she called inquisitively after him. «Surely it cannot merely because of her singular betrayal of my orders last month, though I certainly would appreciate such sympathetic disappointment.»

Marcos swung by again, and she folded one foreleg over the other, tapping her chin in reflection. «Is it because she chose the School of the Shining Stellar Dance? A Star-school which is unlike any of the others, and which follows its own code, different from thy own?»

That right there accounted for a lot of València’s own disgust for Pureza and her ilk. A bunch of scheming, mercenary assassins had no place among the honorable Stars who fought for House, School, and the Children as a whole. Not to mention their near-heretical, but tolerated, view on what it meant to serve the Great Mother.

Carmen lowered her hooves, continuing. «But that hardly seems enough to provoke such murderous impulses as thou hast displayed. Could it be instead because of her proclivities, having been liberated by virtue of age from the demands of her House? The self-consciousness of a concerned brother?»

Carmen shook her head to nopony in particular. «Yet this seems absurd as well, though perhaps understandable if thou wert a follower of a puritanical creed.»

She turned away from her swinging son, nodding her head. «...Ahh... And Reverend Mother Teresa espoused puritanism, did she not?»

That was an understatement. Reverend Mother Teresa was not of València’s House, but everypony knew of her legendary conservatism. In her mind, the Reconquista was to be a war of extermination, with the Equestrians not merely crushed underhoof, but wiped out or reduced to chattel. If she was the one in charge down here, Pureza would have already been burned at the stake for miscegenation. Which was why it was hard to imagine the Canterlot Rookery existing at all, under the rule of Teresa. Carmen, on the other hoof, was that rare breed of Lunar with militant determination, but also an adaptive agenda.

Once more, the Reverend Mother Superior extended a hoof to stop Marcos' motion, but this time she did so gently, bringing him to a halt just in front of her, muzzle to muzzle. The singular eye of the Sixth of Meteors was open wide, and filled to the brim with contempt.

«Is this why thou detestest thy sister, son of my womb? Not because of what Pureza has done to you, but because of what she did for me? And because of what that meant for thy own beloved Reverend Mother Teresa, and the Great House of thy father?»

He remained completely silent, and she leaned in even closer, lowering her head to see him eyes-to-eye, and forehead-to-muzzle. «Thy hatred for her is merely thy hatred for me, Marcos, projected and transferred by the fact that thou art sworn to serve me by virtue of my rank.»

Hunching down further, she pushed forward, speaking into his left ear, cheek-to-cheek. «But know this, Marcos. When the Great Mother returned to us two years ago, there could be only one House of Houses, one Reverence of Reverences. And the others would never bow down to that majordomo willingly.»

She turned and kissed him gently on the cheek, just below his ruined eye. «For the suffering it has caused thee, I regret that my deal with thy father sent thee to his House instead of mine. But if it had not been House Cadena de Vapores which triumphed over the others and elevated me to Reverend Mother Superior, it would have been another. The blood spilled on the Day of the Dancing Blades was always fated to be sacrificed in the name of the Great Mother, regardless of the precise victims or victors. In thy heart of hearts, Marcos, thou knowest that this was our destiny.»

That much was probably true. Under her leadership, House Cadena de Vapores had become the wealthiest of all the Great Houses. She was cunning in her deal-making, unusually gentle in her treatment of the Rocks and lower Phases, and ruthless when it came time to rely upon the Stars. It was said that she was also liberal in the personal application of Lunar delights when it came to diplomatic problems. Everypony knew that it was by her will that a considerable portion of her House's great wealth had been transferred to the School of the Shining Stellar Dance, as payment to have them write the name of every other Great House's Reverend Mother in their bloody little 'guest-book.' And she had also correctly calculated the date of the Great Mother's awakening, striking just when the iron was hot.

The night after the bloodbath, their Goddess found only a single House not headless and in disarray. A single house, and a single Reverend Mother, worthy of carrying the Moon-and-Star banner to Equestria.

València could only imagine how that epic meeting must have played out...

Did Carmen Ébanoscudo show contrition for once in her life, bowing before the Goddess of the Children, or did she revel proudly in her victory, even under the blinding gaze of the Great Mother Herself? Regardless, it had been a stunning coup, and whatever hatred València had for Pureza Ébanoscudo and her band of treacherous assassins, there was no denying their efficacy.

At last, Marcos found the words to answer his mother. «Yes, Reverence. That was our destiny. And our destiny it was also to rule over the home world, above all the Equestrians.»

He sneered. «Yet now Your Reverence would have us grovel before them, and worship their Gods and Lords as our own.»

Carmen sighed. «Marcos, Marcos. How little thou understandest. Dost thy Eight inform thee whenever he eats or drinks? Dost thou have his full schedule of comings and goings? Dost he apprise thee even of his urinations and defecations?»

The Meteor only furrowed his brow in response, so she continued. «No? Then do not presume to be privy to my plans, Sixth of Meteors. I am not compelled to speak them to thy ears.»

Marcos scoffed. «Plans? What plans? I see only idle Stars who grow feeble and weary, longing to attack the surface-born but denied every opportunity.»

Now it was Carmen's turn to scoff -- to laugh, even, throwing her head back in riotous amusement. «To attack? Hahaha! Oh really, Marcos, art thou so dense?»

Still chuckling, she raised a modest forehoof to conceal her titters. «Attack Equestrians, with not one, but two immortal Princesses to guard them? Attack them now, when even without their Princess Celestia, and with our Great Mother at our side, you Stars could not take just one fortified tower?»

The laughter turned to rage.

«That was all the Great Mother asked, and yet the Stars nonetheless disappointed her! One tiny tower that would have become a dagger in the heart of our enemies! What might have been if thy ilk had not so bungled this task? Perhaps we might even still have our Great Mother to lead us.»

Loudly, she tapped the butt of her staff on the ground. «Go and take a horchata in the marketplace if thou truly believest in such fantasies as this. Ask Alcazar how the assault ground to a stalemate, and then again how that stalemate became a rout, once our Great Mother was defeated and the Equestrians had the backing of their Princess once more.»

She turned away in disgust, and Marcos reflected on her words a moment before answering. «Better to fight and die a glorious death, than to live on in ignominy.»

Carmen turned and snapped back at him, nodding sarcastically. «Thou canst ask this of Alcazar as well, Marcos, and learn of his opinion in the matter. I have kept him around as a reminder to troublemakers such as thee; clearly, I must order him to be more proactive in his efforts. Perhaps I should have him un-muzzled so that the lessons will be received loudly and clearly, even at the cost of morale.»

Exhaling loudly through her nostrils, she transferred her staff from one shoulder to the other and stepped over to him once more. «The position we find ourselves in is not conducive to a military victory, Marcos. A Star should understand this. A Star should know when it is wise to retreat, to submit, or to disperse. A Star should know to wait for the correct opportunity to strike.»

Marcos thrashed his head back and forth with a surprising violence, struggling against the chains. «Wait and grow weaker? And what opportunity will we ever get again?»

Carmen raised one of her wing arms as if to strike him again, but only shook her head angrily. «None, if thou continuest to thwart my plans.»

With a healthy disdain for the threatened swipe, Marcos looked away. «Again, the talk of plans. What plans? Your Reverence has no plans.»

The Reverend Mother Superior sighed. «Thou hast been a Six for five years now, Marcos, and yet still thou hast not risen to Seven. I used to be disappointed in Pureza for having foolishly allowed her own Master to survive when she was already his better, and then again when he died yet she did not claim the position of Eight, but at least she rules her Temple with none above her! While thou festerest in thy own 'ignominy.’»

That painful verbal sting got Marcos to pay attention again, and Carmen lowered her staff, levelling the pointed tips of the crescent moon with his face, supporting it with one extended forehoof, before she slowly extended it forward towards his one remaining eye.

«Listen well, flesh of my womb, and repeat not a word unless thou wishest to join the ranks of the Shadows. The solution to our predicament is not to be found here, in our Rookery under the mountain, nor is it to be found on the Moon. If there is a means to rid ourselves of the Princess of the Sun, and another to restore our Great Mother, and another to waylay the Elements of Harmony, then those means are to be found on the surface world, in Equestria, the land of magic itself.»

Gritting her teeth, she continued, the crescent only a hair's width away from poking one of its sharp tips into his good eye. «We have precious little access to the surface, and yet there much to be done without exposing ourselves. This is why I barred the Rookery to outsiders, to keep our secrets our own. But the Royal Engineer, previously an unwelcome pest, now presents an opportunity that we cannot ignore.»

She smiled. «He confers with our Rocks, and asks them for help in building an iron-foundry on the surface world. He needs their help up there; their advice and assistance. Think of it, Marcos -- Children coming and going from the Rookery at all hours of the day and night. A doubling, tripling, or more, of opportunities to escape the prying eyes of our watchers and handlers in the Royal Undermountain Constabulary. A wealth of time to seek out the tools and information we require.»

Marcos didn’t look convinced. «Your Reverence truly believes this scheme will work?»

Her smile grew wider, and she raised her staff up and away. «I know that it will. Even with our limited access, we have already made contact with one group that shows great promise.»

‘Really?’

‘Who?’

Marcos echoed València’s questions. «Who are these would-be allies?»

Carmen shrugged. «Equestrians of limited morals, who chafe under the benign and benevolent dictatorship of the Sun. They will be easily swayed to our side with a few baubles now and the promise of greater rewards and freedoms later. And they have great magical powers that will prove most useful to us.»

Typical plan coming from Carmen. Buy themselves some powerful allies, then strike from the shadows when nopony expects it. Not very honorable, but why screw with a winning formula? It was why she's in the position she's in, after all.

The Reverend Mother Superior lowered her forehooves back down to the ground, idly brushing some unseen spec of dust off of her white cloak. «I am not asking thee to embrace thy sister, Marcos. Only to leave her and her entourage alone, for now.»

He narrowed his eyes. «And Your Reverence also wishes me to refuse my Eight?»

She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. «Refuse? No, no, Marcos. Thou shalt express to him thy contrition for thy deeds, and beg to be subjected to the justice of the Lunars. Thou shalt be remorseful and apologetic. And then, at my bidding, thou shalt spend a few days here in the oubliette, before being released on thy own recognisance.»

«What of my eye? When will Your Reverence order it restored?»

She shrugged. «Perhaps a week or two after thy parole. Enough time to prove thy humility and thy obedience in the opinion of the Rookery.»

She inhaled deeply, looking around the black cell. «Oh, and I suppose I may also involve thee in some aspect of the plan, now that thou knowest of it. I do dislike to leave a thread loose and hanging.»

Stepping forward, she met the Sixth of Meteors muzzle-to-muzzle once more. «Thou needst not make thy choice this instant, Marcos. Think on my offer, and make thy choice when thy Eight comes to see thee. Speakest thou to him as I have instructed, and thy future is assured. Or goest thou with him, and take thy chances remaining a cyclops.»

Chuckling, she grinned. «Or tellest thou him my plan, if it pleases thee, and make thyself mine enemy, instead of merely mine disappointment.»

Carmen leaned in further, placing her lips against his left ear. «But knowest thou this, Marcos, my son. Thy Eight may trust thee and honor thee, and thou likewise him, but he does not love thee as I do. He can never love thee, not truly, in the manner that only a mother can love her child.»

Pulling away from his ear, she rose up and slowly, gently kissed him on his closed lips.

Once... twice...

Marcos stared back at Carmen, wide-eyed and tight-lipped. València was terrified of being caught spying on Her Reverence, but she couldn't look away.

The third time she pressed forwards, Marcos closed his eyes, opening his mouth to receive hers, and that kiss lasted longest of all, with several after-thoughts. Finally, she pulled back her muzzle, and València could see white powder-marks on Marcos' face from where their muzzles met; the dim overhead lighting catching the glint of moisture nearby as well.

«Thou wilt make the correct choice, my son. Suffer a little now, for greatness awaits thee in the future.»

Stepping back, Mother Carmen inhaled deeply before calling up to the Four. «Open the cell, Hatcheteer. I am finished here.»

València diligently stepped over to the windlass and began cranking it with her forehooves, raising the grate. As soon as it was wide enough, the Reverend Mother Superior came fluttering up out of Marcos' cell like a delicate, white-robed moth.

The Hatcheteer flipped the ratchet-lever and worked to lower the grate once more.

Finally, with Marcos sealed in his cell and Carmen out of it, València began to escort Her Reverence back to the foyer.

The unquestioned ruler of her people spoke as they walked together.

«The Hatcheteers are said to see all and hear all, but to never repeat what they observe except by lawful command.»

València nodded her head.

‘Of course she's going to give me this talk.’

Despite València’s attempt to appear ignorant, they hadn't exactly been quiet. The Reverend Mother knew full well she witnessed everything that happened in the cell.

«Yes, Your Reverence.»

Carmen turned her head up slightly. «It would be a terrible shame if this most vaunted and honorable reputation was lost.»

València was only a few hoofsteps away from the entrance to the oubliette. Pausing before the iron gate, which was still locked from their earlier entrance, she bowed to the Reverend Mother.

«I understand completely, Your Reverence.»

Carmen smiled. «Good. When the day comes that the Moon triumphs over the Sun, I will have need of such loyal and diligent Stars to ensure the continued submission of our surface-born cousins. And at that moment I will think back to thy service, València Fierropezuña.»

‘Well, at least she's not just threatening me, but also promising rewards for keeping my muzzle shut.’

València gave a quick nod to one of her Threes, who began to unlock the door. Then she bowed again in acknowledgement to Carmen.

«Yes, Your Reverence.»

As the metal portcullis creaked open on its heavy hinges, the Reverend Mother Superior rejoined her entourage of white-robed Lunar acolytes, speaking over her shoulder as she departed. «The Eighth of Meteors will arrive here soon. You will allow him to speak with his Six, but he is not to enter the cell.»

‘Interesting tactic. What, is she afraid the Eight will passionately kiss her son as she herself just did?’

Or maybe she just didn’t want him to notice her makeup on Marcos' lips.

«Yes, Your Reverence.»

With a tiny nod of acknowledgement, the Lunars departed. Moments later, València’s Threes, Twos, and junior Ones crowded around her.

«What happened, Val?»

«Yeah, what did they talk about?»

«Did she give him a real tongue-lashing?»

«Or did she rip out his other eye?»

València shook her head. «I cannot speak of it, at least not yet.»

Sighing, she returned to her seat in front of the watch-officer's desk.

«All I know is that nothing makes sense anymore.»

Next Chapter: Chapter 112 Estimated time remaining: 12 Hours, 42 Minutes