Island of the Forgotten

by Bluespectre

First published 7th of April, 2021

Archaeology was supposed to be a safe, quiet profession. But not everything that lies beneath the verdant grass of Equestria is as innocent as it seems.

Lyra heads a team of archaeologists and young volunteers on their spring break during one of the hottest days of the year. Underfunded and understaffed, what should have been a fairly interesting dig turns into a nightmare when one of the newbies decides to investigate an unknown magical source that had been buried not only in the earth, but in time itself.

Chapter One - That which waits beneath the earth

Music drifted lazily across the lush greenery of the equestrian meadow, the rich sonorous notes inviting the listener to revel in the unadulterated joy of life, to ignore their daily hardships, perhaps even to take a moment away from their normal activities and simply... listen. It was certainly a lively refrain too, one which the mint green coated mare had instantly recognised as ‘The ballad of the prancing goat’. She’d played the popular piece many times herself, albeit back when she hadn’t been so utterly exhausted from digging all day that she was still physically capable, let alone in the right frame of mind, to even think of picking up her beloved instrument. Gods preserve her! How long had it been since she’d taken it out of its case? A week? Surely no more that two, right? Lyra Heartstrings sighed resignedly, leaning back in the earthen trench to wipe her brow only to accomplish little more than smearing her sweat soaked fur with mud from her now hopelessly chipped hoof. As she stared at her ravaged appendage a now familiar twinge of regret began to niggle at the back of her mind.

“You know you could always use magic to do that if you wanted to, right?” Lyra looked up, cocking an eyebrow at the orange coated mare addressing her. The newcomer was peering curiously at her from beneath a brightly coloured handkerchief that she’d wrapped around her head. It too, just like its wearer, was liberally covered in the ever present thick sticky mud and dark with sweat. “I mean, I don’t think Orbit will mind if you did,” the mare added. “Besides, even if he did we’re so short hoofed out here the old sod wouldn’t dare get rid of you. We can’t afford to lose anypony at the min’.”

She was right too. Every day the dig was falling further and further behind schedule despite the best efforts of the team. Lyra snorted derisively. Ha! Even calling it a ‘team’ was a stretch of the imagination. There were what, six of them left now? They needed at least twenty full time archaeologists on a site this size, and that wasn’t counting all the support staff they usually relied upon either. What a mess! Everything that could go wrong had done so right from the very start. Part of the trouble had been the time of year the so-called ‘decision makers’ had decided to commence the dig: it was the height of summer for one thing, and a particularly hot one it was proving to be too. A combination of the heat, coupled with the simple fact that interest in archaeological discovery was far from the mind of even the most dedicated equestrian academic, meant that the usual stock of volunteers had ‘inexplicably’ gone off on holiday rather than squat in an earth trench up to their fetlocks in muck and rocks. Others, such as those brought in from other digs to help out, had simply lost interest after a few days in the dirt and had made their excuses before they too left to pursue more ‘recreational’ endeavours. As the sun bathed days passed the team’s numbers dwindled ever more, no doubt following the example of the ‘less than dedicated’ individuals to make the most of the gorgeous weather. Lyra couldn’t blame them really, digging up the past was hardly a glamorous job at the best of times, especially when it was mostly unpaid. It didn’t help matters when your boss was an absolute dick too. Orbit was one of those types who never seemed to quite understand that the ponies scraping and scratching in the soil were volunteers and could, no doubt to his boundless chagrin, quit at any time without any repercussions. No, whichever way you looked at it this was all adding up to a right royal mess. Nopony was saying it out loud, but they were all thinking it: the whole project was more likely to run out of staff, or time, long before the usually spartan funding finally dried up. Apparently the local librarian of all ponies, one Miss Twilight Sparkle, had managed to arrange funds from, incredibly, the palace itself! How the hell she’d managed to pull that one off was anypony’s guess. Not that it really mattered anyway. They had been given one month to excavate, record, and retrieve any finds before the builders moved in to slap yet another supermarket right on top what was, some believed, to be one of the most important historical sites discovered in the last fifty years.

“Hey Lyra, you in there?” The orange mare waved a hoof in front of her friend’s eyes. “Earth to Lyra...”

“Yeah, I know,” Lyra replied solemnly. “I know...” The green mare closed her eyes, letting out a low weary groan, “I’m supposed to be playing at the Cinder Club tonight, Timber, remember? And you’ll no doubt remember what happened the last time I overdid it too. If I spend the day using my magic in this heat again I’ll be completely worn out before I’ve so much as put hoof on stage, let alone get halfway through the set.” She hung her head, recalling the embarrassment of that awful evening. “Goddesses, I wish I could forget all about that blasted debacle. No,” Lyra said firmly, lifting her head to the sky, “I wish everypony else would forget it! Ugh! I’ve never, never, been so humiliated in all my life!”

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t as bad as all that, Lyra,” Timber replied. She clucked her tongue dramatically, “It’s not like you fainted or anything.”

“Only by sheer luck!” Lyra snapped back suddenly. “I barely made it two feet off the stage before my legs went and I ended up muzzle deep in a sand bucket chucking my guts up!”

There was a long drawn out pause. Timber quietly watched her friend with her inscrutable blue eyed gaze that always made Lyra feel as though the motherly mare was able to read her thoughts before she’d said any of them aloud. Blast it! The girl was younger than she was!

“Why are you doing this?” Timber asked plainly. “I’ve heard you play. I know how good you are, and how you’ve mastered more string instruments than I can count.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Lyra answered simply. She closed her eyes, subconsciously brushing her cutie mark. “It’s my ‘special talent’ after all.”

“And a damned good one too,” Timber pointed out ignoring her friend’s faintly sarcastic tone. She leaned closer, placing a hoof on Lyra’s shoulder. “Listen petal, that ‘special talent’ of yours could bring you in some serious ‘readies’ if you applied yourself. Hell, I don’t even know the names of half the things you can make sing, and my dad used to make the silly things.”

“I know, I’ve got one of his mandolins at home,” Lyra agreed.

“Exactly,” Timber nodded assertively. “Lyra, listen, you’ve got the talent, you’ve got the connections, and you’ve even got the instruments for Luna’s sake. Why in Equestria are you wasting your time digging in the dirt when you don’t have to?” She shook her head sadly, “Honestly, I just don’t get it. I really don’t.”

“Because,” Lyra groaned, rubbing her forelegs before standing up unsteadily. “Because I want to, that’s all. There’s no big secret to it, Timber, I just… like doing this.” She shrugged, offering her friend a helpless smile, “Call me crazy if you want, but I always have.”

Timber chuckled quietly, “Fair do’s. Not that I’m one to talk mind, archaeology’s in my blood after all.” She pointed to her own cutie mark – a trowel and brush, crossed. “For better or worse it’s what I do. Pity it pays what we’re both covered in.” Timber nudged her friend playfully, “Crap!”

“Occupational hazard I suppose,” Lyra smiled in reply. She rolled her shoulders and motioned with her head towards the tent. Ostensibly it was supposed to be there for staff refreshments and relaxation. Unfortunately the capacious tent acted more like a sauna in the baking sun causing virtually everything inside to be warm, including the drinks. “Come on, let’s grab a cuppa before we pass out from dehydration.”

“Not a juice?” Timber asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

“You can if you like,” Lyra offered. “The chiller’s on the fritz again, and personally speaking I’d rather drink kettle water than hot carrot juice any day of the week.”

Timber paused before answering with a smile, “You know, I think I’ll go for a tea as well then.”

The two mares trudged along the wooden plank lined path which lead up to the modest assemblage of tents overlooking the dig. The white canvas domes were barely noticeable from any distance, being half buried in crates of equipment and the usual paraphernalia of the archaeologists trade as they were. Numerous measuring devices, range finders and recording devices sat alongside the more mundane items such as shoves, picks, wheelbarrows and buckets – all of them stacked surprisingly neatly, or else still languishing in their packing crates. If there was one thing that made them really stand out however, it was just how clean everything was. Lyra sighed inwardly. Archaeological digs weren’t meant to be clean! It was a dirty, filthy job at the best of times. It could be snowing, raining, or even blowing a gale and they’d still expect you to jump in a trench and get cracking. In short it wasn’t a job for those who would become apoplectic about getting a spot of mud on their coat or a chip on their manicured hooves. Uncovering the layers of history took dedication, real dedication, and no small amount of serious hard work. Above all though it required perseverance. As Lyra entered the tent she cast a backward glance at the others still working on the site alongside them. Apart from herself and Timber there were a grand total of six volunteers. Six! She wondered bitterly how long they would last before deciding to throw in the towel too. Come to think of it, how long would it be until there was just her and Timber left? Gods above, she’d never known a dig with such an attrition rate. Not even in the depths of winter.

“Hoy, buck up there, misery guts.” Timber plonked a mug of tea in front of her friend. “Get that down you and give us a smile for Luna’s sake.” She took a sip of her own tea, but her eyes never left Lyra’s. “I don’t like seeing you like this, Lyra,” she said weightily. “You’re usually the one who’s all upbeat and chipper about everything, and if you’ll pardon the pun, you really do wear your heart on your sleeve sometimes.” Timber treated her to a surprisingly gently smile, “What’s eating you? It’s not still that business at the club, surely?”

Lyra shrugged, “It is a bit, but… I don’t know. Things are just piling up a bit, that’s all.”

“Bonnie okay?”

The green mare’s eyes dropped, staring into the steam curling up from the barely touched beverage. “Yeah… I s’pose.”

“You suppose?” Timber replied, trying to keep the surprise from her voice. “I thought you two got on like a house on fire!” She leaned forward, placing a gentle hoof on Lyra’s. “You want to talk about it? I may not look it, but I’m a good listener. Honest!”

Lyra gave an ironic laugh and brushed her mane from her deep yellow eyes. “There’s not much to ‘talk’ about,” she said flatly. “It’s probably just me being miserable anyway. I mean, we’ve been friends since way back in junior school, even going to the same college together, but…” She screwed up her face in thought, “Something’s… Something’s just a bit… ‘off’ about her lately. I can’t put my hoof on it really, but she’s become so moody for some reason, snapping at me over the slightest thing!”

“Has this been going on for long?”

“A few months now,” Lyra answered glumly. “Ever since she got that promotion at work.”

“Pressure of the job getting to her, do you think?” Timber suggested.

“Maybe...” Lyra mumbled. “She won’t talk to me about it, that’s for damned sure.

Timber shook her head, “That’s not good, Lyra. Burying your feelings like that and pretending they don’t exist just makes matters worse in the long run.”

“Don’t I know it!” Lyra snorted. “But what can I do? I can’t force her to tell what’s bugging her, and when I even so much as hint at the subject she flies off the bloody handle at me!”

“What does she do again?” Timber asked. “Her job I mean.”

“Ah, now that’s the million bit question isn’t it?” Lyra lifted her cup up and took a sip, staring past her friend to the jar of flowers on the counter top. Although well watered, the once vibrant blooms were wilting in the intense heat of the tent’s interior. In a way she felt as if it were some terrible metaphor for what passed as her life right then. She cleared her throat, looking her friend in the eyes. “I haven’t got a clue.”

Timber’s cup paused halfway to her mouth. “What, you mean you don’t know what she does for a living?” She blinked in surprise. “How in Equestria can you not know!”

“All she’ll say is that it’s a ‘local government agency’,” Lyra huffed indignantly with an exaggerated shrug. “Other than that she never says anything about it, saying that she ‘Can’t disclose personal information’ and that it’s ‘Government policy’, or some such gibberish. All I know is that she goes to work the same time every morning five days a week and has weekends off. She takes her lunch with her despite there apparently being a canteen ‘at the office’, a set of light panniers, her purse, and some stationery: pens, pencils, ruler – that sort of thing.”

“Well, it does sound reasonable,” Timber reasoned a little doubtfully. She thought for a moment before adding, “My cousin, Blueberry, works for the local council in Fiddlestone. She’s worked in their accounts department for years and won’t talk about anything she does there because of ‘client confidentiality’, or something like that. It’s a bit like your doctors and their oath not to talk about their patients. If Bon Bon’s working for the same kind of organization I’d expect she can’t tell you about it for exactly the same reason. Don’t see why she couldn’t tell you what her job title was though. That seems like she’s going a bit overboard with it all.”

“More than her job’s worth, huh?” Lyra took a sip of her tea.

Timber leaned back in her chair, nodding sagely. “More like ‘official secrets’,” she said over her steaming cup. Her eyebrows suddenly shot up, lending her an almost comical air. “Hey, you don’t think she’s a spy, do you?!”

“Pfff! Bon Bon? Of course not!” Lyra snorted. “What, ‘Licence to bore?’” She chuckled, flicking her mane out of her eyes. “No, you’re right, Bonnie’s probably just some regular old clerical worker like that relative of yours. Jobs like that are boring anyway, and I mean super boring.”

“And digging in the muck for old tat isn’t?” Timber asked with a smirk.

“Well,” Lyra sniggered, “you’ve got me there.”

“That’s the old Lyra smile I like to see.” Timber winked at her friend and leaned back in her chair which creaked alarmingly. “Nah, look Lyra, if Bon Bon’s stuck in a crappy job then I wouldn’t worry yourself too much about it. That one’s got more than enough brains to get something else if she wanted a change of scene.” She shrugged, “Sometimes ponies just don’t want to talk about work when they leave the office. Hell, who’d want to hear all about paperwork, filing, and all that office politics rubbish when they got home? Put the radio on, take up a hobby, or go out for goodness sake.” She barked out a laugh, “Or go and hear some decent music down the pub!”

“Amen to that!” Lyra smiled broadly.

The two sat quietly for a while listening to the gentle flapping of the tent as the light breeze played with the canvas. Some might find the constant noise annoying, but to others, like the two mares, it was uncommonly soothing. Lyra closed her eyes, letting the stiffness in her joints from the weeks of digging slowly drain away in the delicious warmth. How long had she been here now? It hadn’t been that long compared to other digs she’d been involved with, not by a long shot, but this one was really taking its toll on all of them both physically and mentally. She’d always considered herself to be a very driven mare by and large, dedicating herself fully to whatever it was she working on at the time. ‘No half measures!’ she’d cheerfully say to herself, even when she was soaked to the skin during a downpour or shivering in the snow. And yet despite her enthusiasm, in spite of the fact she’d pushed herself day after day, this time… this time something was different. No matter how much she tried to put a brave face on it, all their hard work was proving to be depressingly pointless. There simply wasn’t enough time to do even a cursory inspection of this ancient site, let alone the full in depth excavation one normally required for such a historically important location. What a bloody cock-up! Lyra thought to herself bitterly. Still, it wasn’t anypony’s fault really. What with the weather, the time limit, and the fact that the site had only been discovered during the initial test boring by the construction company, meant that they’d been hamstrung right from the beginning. Hell, they’d been lucky to get as far as they had; the construction ponies had been ready to level the ruins they’d unearthed and use them as part of the foundations for the new supermarket before somepony with more than six brain cells stopped them. These things happened occasionally with archaeology. It sucked, but it happened, and there was bugger all you could do about it. Lyra sighed, blocking out her concerns and listened instead to the world around her: to the wind, the rustling of the trees… It all had a music of its own, a timeless ethereal song that changed with the seasons - changing, flowing... In her mind’s eye she could imagine herself relaxing on the deck of a ship, one of those old sailing galleons from history, lying in a hammock whilst the ancient wooden vessel rested quietly at anchor with only the lapping of the water on the hull and the soft sea air rippling the furled sails, lulling her to-

“Oh I nearly forgot, here’s that book you loaned me.”

“Huh?” Lyra started at the sound of the well worn book thumping onto the table in front of her. She screwed up her eyes, staring at the familiar text.

Humans: Fact or Fairytale?

An in depth examination into the legends and myths of this enigmatic race by renowned explorer Hidden Path, with foreword by Prof. Cinnamon Crackers

The book they didn’t want you to read!

“You alright?” Timber asked. “You looked like you were nodding off there.”

As if in answer to her question, an expansive yawn escaped Lyra’s throat. “I was…” With a smack of her lips she finished the last dregs of her tea. “So, what did you think or it?”

“Of the book?” Timber shook her head with an expression of mild disapproval. “I thought it was a load of old rot to be honest with you.”

“What?! Oh, come on!” Lyra snorted. “Hidden Path is a noted authority on ancient history, and Cinnamon Crackers is-”

“As mad a march hare!” the orange mare cut in. “The hint’s in the name, Lyra? As for Hidden Path, the guy’s a moon-addled conspiracy nut through and through. You must have heard what ponies were saying about some of his more wacky theories on ‘Lost civilisations’, surely? His name was all over the history journals a few years back. What was it now – ‘The lost penguin cult of the Germanian mountains’?” Timber guffawed, “Fetlocks and feathers! As if it wasn’t mad enough to think that flightless birds were somehow living in a mountain range, but that they actually worshipped a chocolate wrapper left there by a mountaineer as well? I don’t know what was more insane: that he actually had the balls to publish this rubbish or that dull witted ponies bought his book thinking it was a genuine study based on facts!”

“It was a best seller!” Lyra protested, ignoring the jibe.

Timber snorted, “Ha! Which only goes to prove just how gullible some ponies really are!”

“I’m not gullible...”

“Eh?”

“Nothing!” Lyra quickly slipped the book into saddle bag, secretly thanking the goddess that she’d got her prized possession back safe and sound. What in Equestria had she been thinking loaning it to Timber in the first place? She must have known the kind of response she’d receive from her friend. After all, the whole subject of ‘humans’ was one that was usually met with derisive comments or stares which generally suggested that any proponent of such views had more than a few metaphorical screws loose in their noggin to believe any of it.

“Lyra, that book was removed from sale for a reason, you know?” Timber gave her friend an almost pitying gaze, a gaze Lyra did not like one bit. Sadly it wasn’t the first time she’d encountered it either. It was just… it was just that she’d hoped Timber of all ponies would… Lyra sighed; she’d hoped at least one pony might have shared her more ‘unorthodox’ interest in these creatures. Sadly, it wasn’t to be.

“So you don’t think there was anything unusual in that then, do you?” Lyra asked. “You’re a historian; tell me, when was the last time anything like that has ever happened before, Timber?” She rolled her eyes. “Good grief! The government themselves come steaming in to lean on a major publishing house, forcing them to remove one of their best ever selling books, and at the same time release a press statement to the effect that Hidden Path’s best seller was ‘in fact’, a ‘work of science fiction, callously passing itself off as a meticulously researched evidence-based book to fleece the unsuspecting public.’”

“Which is exactly what it was!” Timber nickered loudly. “He was a charlatan for goodness sake.”

“Not a very good one then. Hidden Path was ruined!” Lyra thumped her hoof on the table. “Professor Crackers only kept his tenure because he told the press he’d been hood-winked into writing the foreword!”

“It just goes to show how much of a con-stallion he is then,” Timber replied coarsely. “He’s lucky the government didn’t make him pay back all his royalties. All that half-arse conjecture and supposition. I mean, a race of intelligent six foot tall bald monkeys? It’s as bad as the bloody penguins.”

“Yeah?” Lyra paused, looking her friend in the eye. “And how tall did you say they were again?”

“The penguins?”

Lyra clucked her tongue, “No, the humans.”

Timber screwed up her face in thought, “Well, ‘six foot’ your learned writer said if I remember correctly.”

Lyra felt a wry smile pass across her lips, “And exactly how much is a ‘foot’ then?”

The orange mare rolled her eyes, “Well, twelve inches of course. Everypony knows that, Lyra.”

“Not the length of a hoof then?”

“Ha! Of course not!” Timber barked out a laugh, “You’d have to have something seriously wrong with you to have a twelve inch hoof, Lyra! Either that or be the size of a small house.” She frowned, noticing the expression on her friend’s face. “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but -what are you getting at?”

“That word. ‘Foot’.” The green mare raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curling into a knowing smile. “The unit of measurement: Foot, or the plural - Feet. Ponies don’t have feet, Timber.”

“Oh, gods...” Timber groaned, leaning her muzzle into her hooves. “Lyra, it’s a word, that’s all, a word that’s used to describe a standard unit of measurement. There’s no hidden meaning to it.”

“So why not a hoof then?”

“How the hell should I know?!” Timber exclaimed in exasperation. “We don’t have a ‘Bakers dozen’ on the end of our legs, do we! You could just as easily say humans bounced around on pogo-sticks for all the sense that logic makes.” She shook her head, “Look, just because your nut job scam artist friend says humans walked around on ‘feet’ doesn’t mean that it has anything at all to do with some mysterious cover-up by the government. Monkeys have ‘feet’ too, don’t they? Think about it!” Timber wiped her mouth on her foreleg before slumping back in her chair. “Besides, what difference would it make even if humans had existed? They sure as hell ain’t around nowadays, I can tell you that much.”

“Bah!” Lyra sniffed, “You don’t know that for certain.”

“Oh no, of course I don’t,” Timber snorted loudly. “They’re probably up on that mountain with the bloody penguins aren’t they!” She waved a hoof sarcastically, “Scratch that, they’d probably freeze to death, what with them being ‘bald monkeys’ and all. Nah, they’ll have most likely skinned the penguins and turned them into tuxedos with matching ties long ago.”

Lyra couldn’t help stifle a chuckle, even if her friend was making fun of her. “What about the artefacts then?” she asked. “There’s that wheel they found in the river over in Thimble, remember?”

“Oh yes, the so-called ‘unicycle device’.” Timber groaned, finishing her own cup of tea. “Who could forget that whole chapter on ‘Unicycling humans’ travelling up and down smoothly paved roads.”

“Not convincing enough for you?” Lyra prompted, half expecting the answer.

“No!” The orange mare pushed back her chair and put her empty cup on the table along with her friend’s. “I’ve seen unicycling ponies in the circus, Lyra, so the whole theory behind them being invented by bipeds as a source of locomotion just doesn’t hold water. Besides, that rusted thing they uncovered could have been anything: part of a larger machine, an early cart wheel design-”

“A cart wheel?!” Lyra chipped in. She got up and stretched her back. “How many cart wheels have bicycle chains and pedals?”

“Pfff, it’s all conjecture, Lyra,” Timber huffed. “And before you say it, yes, I know that’s what we do for a living. Well, kind of.”

“Not in my book it’s not,” the green mare replied. “You can ‘conjecture’ all you like, I’m telling you that Hidden Path was onto something.” Lyra picked up her trowel, knocking the dried mud off it before shoving it back into her pouch. “You only get that kind of interference from up top when-”

“Um, hello?” A purple coated stallion’s face appeared around the entrance to the tent, interrupting Lyra’s defence of literary freedom and the good name of, apparently, the rather unfortunate author Hidden Path.

“Oh, you can come in if you want, we were just leaving,” Timber said pleasantly, quietly relieved to have a change of tone. “Weren’t we Lyra?”

“Of course!” her friend replied a little reluctantly. She turned to the newcomer, “There’s tea in the pot, and milk in-”

The stallion shook his head, interrupting her once more. “Um, no...” Lyra noticed he was one of the latest volunteers, one who hadn’t yet succumbed to the siren call of the beach and a refreshing cold beer. That said, how old was this guy? The fresh faced fellow barely looked fifteen. She repressed the urge to ask if he had permission from his parents to be there. They were short on ponies as it was without chasing them away. Hell, she didn’t even know his name!

“Well, what is it?” Lyra asked impatiently. “I may be a unicorn but I can’t read minds, kid.”

“Heh heh...” The young stallion laughed nervously as a blush rose to his cheeks. It’s quite endearing really, Lyra thought to herself as the newcomer rubbed his face. “Er, Amphora sent me to ask you to have a look at something we’d found in trench three?” he explained. “She said it was really important…” He frowned in thought, obviously trying to remember something. “Oh!” he suddenly exclaimed, “And you need to bring a camera.”

The two mares shared a glance.

“I’ll get the camera, Lyra, you get yourself along,” Timber chirped up. She looked forlornly at the pile of boxes and crates. “Once I can find the bloody thing.”

“Fine...” Lyra groaned, reluctantly turning to follow the youngster to where the other junior archaeologists were working in the not-so-originally named ‘trench three’. She and Timber had privately named it ‘The Forlorn Hope’ right from the beginning, although of course neither of them would have ever dreamed of telling the newbies that. The last thing they wanted was to put off the few volunteers they had left through some careless remark. That said, the two friends were more than happy to leave those rather ‘less than dedicated’ to their own devices in a trench where they couldn’t do any real harm, whereas for their own part the two senior members of the team could work in relative peace.

According to some of the rarer records held in the Canterlot Grand Central Library, the site they were working on was one of several potential candidates for the location of the mythical ‘Tower of Galeus’. Whether this unearthed amalgamation of archaic cut stones was indeed one and the same was as yet to be determined. As for Galeus herself, if indeed she had ever existed at all, the elusive mage was barely so much as mentioned in any of the later texts. Naturally this in turn lead many historians to assert that both tower and mage to be no more than mere folklore or flights of fancy. On the rare occasion she was referred to by name however, it was as a near mythical character of extraordinary talent. Nothing new there of course, mythical characters were more often than not accredited with incredible supernatural powers far in excess of normal ponies, if not the gods themselves. Some of the more ‘imaginative’ sources claimed she had once been the tutor of the famed mage Star Swirl the Bearded. If this was true, and not some fantasy story conjured up by later scholars, then Star Swirl himself had certainly never mentioned this interesting fact in any of his known writings. At least, those that still existed, naturally. The desperate wars from the time of the three tribes, the conflict with the forces of Nightmare Moon, let alone the war with the Crystal Empire, had not been kind to written records regardless of who had written them. Countless historical treatise, grimoires and tomes of ancient magics had been lost forever, scourged in the flames and blood of pointless wars. Sadly, nowadays many ponies had little interest in history as a rule, and it was only thanks to a few driven individuals like Twilight Sparkle that historical sites such as the one they were working on currently hadn’t been built over and completely forgotten about altogether. At least, not yet. Part of the problem with attracting ponies to work on this particular site was that Galeus was virtually a complete unknown, even amongst those who made a living from digging up the past. Couple that with the fact that the ‘probable’ location of a site that may or may not have even existed in the first place meant that the finding of a circle of large granite blocks had been met with little enthusiasm by all but a few of the most dedicated historians. Digging in the baking sun had merely the final straw in what had proved to be an exceptionally small pile of straws from the very beginning.

Behind her, Lyra could hear Timber’s muttering as she began her search for the elusive camera. Secretly she thanked the gods that her friend had volunteered herself for that little exercise in futility. With the lack of progress on the site and the lack of hooves, most of the equipment was still sat where the movers had left it. Just as well we’re in a low crime area, she thought to herself sullenly.

“Any luck with your trench?”

Lyra, walking along beside the young unicorn stallion, shook her head, “Not much. We’ve been uncovering the granite foundation stones, but as for what building they belonged to...” She shrugged, “I don’t know for certain. It could have been a granary judging by the size of them. Fortifications perhaps, or anything really. It’s still early days.”

“Granary’s aren’t usually circular in nature though, are they?” the young chap asked curiously. “They’re a hell of a size too, more like what you’d expect from a tall structure, like a lighthouse for example.”

Lyra raised an eyebrow, “Well aren’t you the little brainiac!” she snorted. “We’ve barely been here five minutes and you’ve cracked the code already.” She cocked her head to one side, “There’s one tiny problem with your assessment however.”

The stallion met her gaze, “Oh?”

“A lack of sea perhaps?” Lyra suggested, making a show of looking around at the acres of open land, road, and the local town. “Unless you’re taking into account the town pond of course?”

The stallion gave Lyra a stare that suggested just what he thought about her sarcastic wit; more so than her knowledge of any actual archaeology. Lyra sighed inwardly. She wasn’t herself today. The heat must be getting to her. The poor lad was doing his best, and, she had admit, he had stayed on long after many others had buggered off to have fun and frolics with a cold beer and… Ugh! Gods, how she wanted a cold beer!

Taking a breath she asked, “So, any thoughts on the site as a whole?”

The stallion paused a moment. “Um… Well...” He cleared his throat, “As I said, judging by the size of the granite blocks and the circumference of the site, which is approximately fifty five feet in internal diameter, if you take the tower at Falixus as a guide, then I would estimate a height of around one hundred and sixty to one hundred and seventy feet.”

“Hmm… I think you’re counting the diameter of the overall foundation,” Lyra said simply. “The internal diameter, if I remember correctly, is just over thirty feet isn’t it?”

He shook his head, “If you factor in the eight foot wide blocks, then-”

“Got it!” Timber appeared in a flurry of dust, panting for breath and yet smiling broadly, the prized camera hanging around her neck. She glanced at the two of them in turn, “What are you two gassing about? Did I miss something?”

“Just debating the dimensions of the tower,” the stallion replied.

“Assuming it actually was a tower,” Lyra corrected, shooting him a look. “And even if it was, it doesn’t mean it was the Tower of Galeus. Galeus is more myth than historical fact after all.”

“Only because there’s very little remaining documentary evidence from the first epoch,” the male chipped in. “Absence of evidence doesn’t necessarily disprove the existence of the thing in question.”

Lyra rolled her eyes with a snort. She’d heard this sort of ‘reasoning’ before - ‘Just because you can’t prove something existed doesn’t mean it never did’, eh? Ha! If you applied that kind of screwed up logic to other fantastical personages or events you could claim anything your heart desired had existed once! Maybe even… maybe even... humans? But then there was evidence of them, wasn’t there? Come to think of it there was far more written about them than this so-called sorceress whose ancient home they were supposedly poking around in. Well, at least that was what Twilight ‘Clever Clogs Sparkle’ believed at any rate. Lyra gave herself a shake; wandering across a dig site when you weren’t paying attention could end up with a sudden, and rather painful, discovery of how gravity affects ponies when they carelessly step into an unexpected trench. Thankfully Timber and the new fellow were chatting away beside her, oblivious to her musings.

Timber nodded to something the youngster had said, “The age and cut of the blocks does suggest they’re from the correct period.”

“The fit is quite exceptional too, you see?” The young lad sounded enthusiastic. It was a rarity these days. Lyra felt a touch of jealousy at that too. She could remember how she’d been when she’d first discovered the thrill of uncovering the past. Nowadays she was worried she was becoming jaded, and, perish the thought, older. “There’s no evidence of any mortar being used in the construction, suggesting they went for a friction fit,” the stallion continued. “Using the weight of the stones themselves to provide stability is typical of other sites where magic was used in preference to physical tools. You’ll notice that there’s been no signs of any tooling marks on any of the blocks we’ve uncovered thus far.”

“Well, I’m no engineer,” Timber replied, “but I wouldn’t want to rely on the weight of stone alone for stability, especially if it was a tower.” She frowned in thought for a moment. “You could be right though. If Galeus was indeed the expert mage the writings claim, then she may well have used magic to help bond the stones.”

Lyra shook her head, joining the conversation, “I don’t think so. Even after all this time there’d be a residual trace, and the detectors didn’t pick up anything other than the usual background radiation.”

“You don’t think this is Galeus’s Tower then?” Timber asked, a little surprised by her friend’s response.

Lyra shrugged, “Let’s just say I’m keeping an open mind and keeping any conclusions to myself until all the facts are in.”

“All the same, the evidence is compelling,” the stallion suggested. “This site is exactly where Twilight Sparkle said it would be, and-”

“Tch! She only found it after they’d started surveying for the supermarket!” Lyra interrupted. She held up a hoof forestalling him. “Look kid, I know you’re keen to believe we’re standing on the site of some legendary Equestrian character’s home, hell, I am myself, but you need to rein in that enthusiasm of yours and think with your head instead of your heart.” Noticing his crestfallen expression she felt her heart thump in her chest. It was like kicking the proverbial puppy. She decided to change tack, “Listen, all I’m saying here is to avoid trying to make the evidence we find fit what you want it to fit. If you do that then all you’ll end up doing is set yourself up for disappointment, and believe me I’ve been doing this long enough to know all about that!” She winked at Timber. “I’ll tell you what my tutor told me: ‘Archaeology is all about finding the fragments of history and putting them back together, showing us an image of our past. The picture is already there, all we need to do is to let the past speak for itself in its own time. If we’re patient, if we take our time and record everything we do, then we may discover many wonderful things about ourselves that we have long forgotten.’”

“And to remember the past is to enrich the future,” the stallion quoted.

Lyra chuckled, “You’ll go far, kid.”

“Parchment.”

“Huh?”

“My name’s Parchment,” the stallion said, lifting his muzzle. “Not ‘kid’.”

“Feisty!” Timber laughed. “Reminds me of you at his age.”

Lyra’s eyes went wide, “I’m the same age as you, you cheeky bugger!”

“Pfff! Dream on,” Timber smirked wickedly. “I’m as spry as a filly in spring. Look at my fur: so silky smooth and lustrous. I bet I’m making young Parchment here get hot under the collar just standing near him. Am I right?” She grinned lasciviously at the younger of the trio. Parchment blushed furiously, staring at the ground.

“Ah, how I love the sound of sexual harassment in the morning,” Lyra said with a shake of her head. “Reminds me of college.”

Timber tutted loudly, “Oh, for Luna’s sake, come on, Lyra! If you can’t have a laugh with your mates now and again you’re going to grow into an old and embittered hag. And don’t go getting all preachy with me either. I know what you were like in college too you know. You were no saint, my girl.”

“Never said I was,” Lyra muttered. She hung her head and rolled her shoulders. Looking up she saw Parchment pull ahead, his firm muscles moving under his deep purple coloured fur. He does have a nice arse though, she thought to herself. For a moment she thought she saw Timber notice her staring at the stallion’s rear, but thankfully she wasn’t. Instead, Timber had stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes locked onto where the others were gathered outside of the third trench.

“Oh! Now would you look at that,” Lyra breathed.

To most outsiders looking into this earthen scar on the equestrian landscape, the regular pattern of stones would have looked nothing short of completely unremarkable. Around twenty four inches long, twelve inches wide and the same deep, the neatly cut stones sat silently beneath the baking sun, still damp with the earth so recently brushed from their surface. Nine had been uncovered before the archaeologists had retreated, and not without good reason either – one of them was glowing with a faint, yet distinct, purple light.

“How long has it been doing that?” Lyra asked, leaning forward for a closer examination.

One of the other mares swallowed, casting Lyra a sidelong glance whilst managing to keep a wary watch on the stones. “Um… It started right before we sent Parchment to fetch you. As soon as it started we got out.”

“And bloody quick too!” another chipped in.

The stallion who spoke was rubbing his horn and grimacing as he did so. Lyra frowned, resisting the uncomfortable urge to do the same. Sure enough her own horn was itching beyond itself, a sure sign of a strong magical field building up nearby, or more specifically, right in front of her. Even to those unattuned to magical frequencies, the glow of magic was strong enough for the earth ponies amongst the number to see it clearly. It wasn’t growing in intensity – thank the goddess – but it was disconcerting how it was so strong after all these years in the ground. Privately she was thankful that the ponies here had been given at least a modicum of training before they’d started. Digging willy-nilly in an unknown site where magic had potentially been practised could be extremely dangerous for the unwary, or clumsy. Six years ago a young mare had been working on a site where they believed a battle had been fought during the war with the Empire. Virtually nothing existed from that time nowadays. Ruins were few and far between, and certainly never anything more than a few courses of foundation stones survived. It was ironic that many ponies believed the Empire was nothing more than a myth, and perhaps that was a good thing considering what could happen to those poking around in old forgotten places that had been lost in the depths of time. In this particular instance however the site had been considered to be safe, even ‘boring’ by those who had been conducting the initial survey. And so, as fate would have it, some bright spark set it up to double as a training area for up and coming archaeologists – kids, for Luna’s sake. The youngsters, and their parents, had put their trust in those more experienced, with many coming along during the summer holidays for a bit of an excursion – all expenses paid of course – so they could have some time with their friends away from home.

Lyra hadn’t been there, but she’d heard what had happened.

Balefire.

It was, by all accounts, a highly volatile magical explosive long since banned under the Celestian Convention on Destructive Magics, the tenets of which were dutifully observed by every known nation on the planet. Back then however, there had no such qualms about inflicting mass death on your enemy. Everypony had used it, and lain waste to half of Equestria in the process. Ostensibly it had last been used during the invasion of the self-styled ‘goddess’ Nightmare Moon and her Legions when it had been refined by mages to be more controllable, and unfortunately, more durable. Magical Annihilation Devices, also known as Balefire Eggs, Tartarus Bombs or Hades Grenades, still turned up to this day – usually by some poor sod innocently tilling the field or taking the air along some little used forest path. Most were duds of course, either through a fault in their manufacture or the simple act of nature slowly breaking the constituent parts down, time had more often than not rendered these lethal reminders of the past no more dangerous than an interestingly shaped paperweight. Yes, considering how long these had been in the ground it could generally be assumed that these fascinating relics were about as dead as their creators. But not all of them. Some merely slept, waiting for the careless, or simply unlucky, to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Numerous conflicts spanning the length and breadth of Equestria meant that despite the best efforts of the Royal Ordnance & Explosives Corps, there would always be something sitting there where it had been dropped more than millennia ago - waiting...

It was no surprise therefore that the number one rule amongst archaeologists had been the same for as far back as anypony could remember: if in doubt, don’t touch! Anything egg shaped, glowing, giving off magical radiation or a peculiar smell, was supposed to result in a rapid evacuation of the area until a safety assessment could be made. It was also why every earth pony or pegasi on the dig would have a unicorn in their party. Earth ponies could often sense ‘something’ was wrong, but a unicorn had that goddess given gift of having their horn feeling like it was being sand-papered when strange or strong magic was nearby. The case of Quiche, the hapless young earth pony mare who had decided to keep digging whilst her comrades knocked off for lunch however, had gone down in infamy as the veritable ‘case in point’. The crater was still there to this day. Quiche, Luna have mercy upon her, had simply ceased to exist.

Lyra could feel the eyes of the team watching her. As designated Safety Officer and Senior Archaeologist, it was her job to make a determination as to whether to proceed or put the trench on lock-down until the ROEC could be called in. In this case however, the glowing stone in front of them appeared to be far from anything that could be considered ‘explosive’. But that didn’t mean it was safe by any means.

“Any idea what it is?” one of the volunteers asked.

“Buggered if I know,” Lyra muttered.

“Eh?”

Timber gave Lyra a nudge with her shoulder, giving her the kind of look parents reserved for disobedient foals.

“Oh, er...” Lyra cleared her throat. “I’ll need to make a full assessment before I could say for certain. With the age of this place it could be anything.”

“But how could it be still active after all this time?” one of the youngsters asked. “Magical energy decays at a steady rate defined by the Claudian Thaumaturgical Index, doesn’t it?”

“Not all magic,” Timber chimed in. “Constructs, for example those from the Unification Period, decompose at a rate dependant upon the strength of the originating spell matrix as well as the vessel they’re affixed to.”

“Yes, but you’re talking about the grand mages, like Star Swirl, Clover and-”

“Galeus?”

Timber cleared her throat, “Well, of course, but we don’t even know if he – or she – was more than a storybook character, do we.”

“Oh, come on!” the student snorted, “After all this, why would...”

Lyra stepped forward, letting the conversation wash over her. Right then, right at that moment, all she could see was the mysterious blue light before her. It didn’t… It wasn’t… She closed her eyes for a moment, sucking in her bottom lip as she mentally leafed through her memories. No… It didn’t feel… Malevolent? She shook her head in frustration. She’d seen more than her fair share of oddities during her years of field excavations, more than a few of which had been traps of various descriptions – and lethality. Like their creators, these deadly relics had been left behind long ago for an enemy that had vanished into the depths of time, forgotten by all but a few. On one occasion Lyra had come across a rotting cache of balefire eggs during an excavation of what was supposed to be an ancient farming settlement. Admittedly they’d been so rusted the frightening things had leaked out their deadly payload into the earth long ago, but the shock of finding them had still scared the life out of her at the time. That aside, it was the ‘feel’ of them that had left the true lasting impression on the young mare. Even decayed, even rotten and rusted to no more than lumps of vaguely egg shaped corrosion, the memory of what these things were had left behind a sensation that she could never forget. It was a ghost of a thing, an echo from the depths of time. They felt… evil. Naturally many of her colleagues or those of a more scholarly persuasion would scoff at such a simplistic evaluation of an ancient artefact. They liked to note specifics, such as wavelengths, thaumaturgical radiation levels, chemical compositions, and other more scientific descriptions. Lyra would certainly never be so foolish as to contradict such learned individuals who had spent their lives studying magic in far more detail than she had ever been able to manage. And yet… And yet it was still there… that feeling. Evil. Death. They had been created with a singular purpose, and one that was simply undeniable. Traps held a similar sensation, radiating a sensation of ‘patience’, an indefinable aura of anticipation as though they were waiting for something, or somepony, to trigger them.

Some called it Divination Magic, although exactly what it was had never been studied so far as Lyra knew. As a rule it was usually looked upon as akin to deja-vu – in other words, some ponies had an idea that it existed, although exactly what it was didn’t particularly matter very much, it just… was what it was. Lyra’s mother, a unicorn like her daughter, had the same magical trait which had doubtless been passed down the family line for who knew how many generations. In essence, whatever this magic was, it helped Lyra only in general terms by tipping her off as to the ‘intent’ of the magic’s creator. As to exactly what it was however, was something she left to those more qualified – and less likely to explode like poor Quiche. Even so, the magic before her was compelling to say the least. The stone was the upper most of an arch of others of similar dimension, itself similar to that of a keystone in the arch of, say, a bridge or…

“Oh my gods...” Realisation hit Lyra like a thunderbolt.

Timber stopped in mid flow, turning to face her friend. “What? What is it? Do you know what this is?”

In answer, Lyra took a breath and leaped into the trench.

Timber’s eyes went wide as a collective gasp went up from the assembled ponies. “LYRA! For Luna’s sake, what the hell are you doing?! That magic needs to be tested before-”

Lyra held up a hoof, “It’s alright, I don’t think it’s dangerous.”

“You don’t think?!” Timber looked over her shoulders to see the others rapidly backing away. She was suddenly and also very acutely aware of standing on the edge of a trench mere feet away from an unknown, and doubtless equally powerful, magic source. “Have you lost your marbles?” she shouted down into the trench. “Don’t bugger about with that thing until we know what it is!”

“We don’t have time, remember?” Lyra shook her head, letting out a pent up breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding on to. “This is the first solid piece of evidence we’ve come across since we started this dig, and if we don’t make some headway now they’ll concrete over this place and we’ll lose this opportunity forever.”

“But we don’t know what it is!” Timber replied in exasperation. “It’s more than just a glowing stone, Lyra, I can feel the bloody thing from here. The diggers must have triggered it when they were exposing the rest of-”

“It’s a keystone.”

“-the masonry, and...” Timber blinked in surprise at Lyra’s interruption. “What do you mean ‘it’s a keystone’?” She leaned closer to the edge. “It looks to be part of an arch, I’ll give you that, but it’s free standing by the looks of it. Why would...” She trailed off. “Oh, goddesses...”

Lyra let out a low chuckle. “You see what I mean?” she grinned over her shoulder. “You want to leave this now, do you?”

Timber suddenly noticed how dry her lips were. “I… No… I think-”

Approaching hooves pulled at her attention. “Any idea what it is?” Parchment asked. He bobbed his head towards the stone. “I’ve never seen anything like it before myself, but I’m getting the impression you two have. Am I right?”

Timber nodded but said nothing.

Lyra glanced back at the young stallion before returning her attention to the stone. “It’s a keystone,” she said simply. “The keystone, my dear Parchment, in what appears to be a magical portal.”

Parchment’s eyes went wide. There was a long pause before he offered in a quiet voice, “I’ve heard of them, seen illustrations of them in books and other historical documents.” He swallowed before adding, “I thought they were all destroyed.”

“They were,” Timber explained. “At least the network connecting them was. The Princesses saw to that.”

“Or so we were told,” Lyra muttered. “I guess they missed one.”

“You think it’s active?” one of the other team members asked.

Another answered, “I doubt it. I’ve seen loads of these over the years, and none of them have been anything more than a nicely made archway into nothing.”

“No residual T.R?”

“Not a sausage.”

“It sure as hell looks live to me,” Lyra spoke up over the increasing chatter. Silence fell like a pall over the assembled archaeologists. “If that’s residual thaumaturgical radiation then I’ll eat my hat.” The blue light reflected in her eyes as she stepped nearer, ignoring the feeling in her horn. “This is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

“Then you shouldn’t be near the bloody thing!” Timber said loudly. “Lyra, get you arse up here and we’ll get the area cordoned off until we can get a full team in here to-”

“Pfff! Yeah, right, like that’s going to happen!” Lyra snapped.

“Eh? I don’t-”

Lyra rolled her eyes, “You want some other team to nick our discovery do you? Come on, Timber!” She rounded on her friend, staring up at her from the trench. “I know you’re sceptical. Hell, I think we all are to some degree, but whether this is Galeus’s tower or not we have the first potentially live portal we’ve ever uncovered. This is the holy grail of archaeology, mare! You know damned well what would happen if word of this got out before we documented it.”

Her friend didn’t seem quite so convinced. “Lyra, we’re dealing with something we know absolutely nothing about,” Timber pointed out. “We don’t know what the hell will happen if we go poking around with the thing any more than we have already. You of all ponies should know what can happen if you muck about with ancient magic.”

“Um...” Parchment raised a hoof. “Pardon me for interrupting, ladies, but don’t you think we’re all being a touch premature here?” The two mares both turned to face him as one. “I mean,” Parchment continued after clearing his throat, “we’ve only uncovered a few stones of an arch. To say it’s a portal at this stage is a little, um… ‘premature’, don’t you think?”

“Seems to be a lot of that going on here at the minute,” Lyra mumbled, earning a scathing look from Timber. She rolled her shoulders as she turned her attention back to Parchment. “So, what do you suggest, newbie?”

Apparently surprised to be asked, Parchment glanced at the others. They were, without exception, watching him with the kind of intensity normally reserved for a predator studying its prey. “I… Um…” He licked his dry lips, unsettled by all the attention. “I’d suggest we do as Timber suggested and cordon off the area.” He held up a hoof forestalling Lyra’s protest. “With the intent,” he said assuredly, “to come back in the morning and continue where we left off. Miss Heartstrings can warn anypony of any changes in the magic and the rest of us can make sure we’ve got a clear evacuation route should we need it. Once we’ve uncovered enough of the stones to be sure of what we’re dealing with we can document it and produce our findings. In the meantime I’d recommend writing to Miss Sparkle to appraise her of the situation.”

“Huh! She’d pinch all the credit too, that one,” Lyra snorted.

Parchment’s grin was infectious,“I didn’t say we had to send the letter straight away.”

Lyra beamed back at him. “You know, I like the way you think, kid.” She chuckled, “Parchment, I mean.”

Timber’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know, Lyra,” she opined. “I honestly don’t think we’ve got anywhere near the kind of resources we need to deal with this sort of thing. If it really is an active portal then we’re playing with fire, and with these kids here somepony’s going to get burned sooner rather than later.”

Lyra shrugged her shoulders at her friends dire prediction. “If that’s the case,” she said with a wry smile, “then that pony should be me. No reason why anypony else should be put in harms way.”

Timber’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “What? What in Celestia’s name are you talking about?”

“It’s simple. I’ll run the excavation,” Lyra said with conviction. “You guys can do all the documentation and photography while I do all the graft.” She smiled wickedly, “I’ll be the one in the trench. The only one in the trench.”

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake-!” Timber protested.

Lyra stomped a hoof, pulling her attention. “Never mind invoking the goddess, I’m the senior archaeologist on this job and I’ve made my decision. If you want to make a big song and dance about it then complain to the university.” She clambered up from the trench, brushing the soil from her coat. “And that’s the end of the matter.” Lyra froze suddenly, “Song… Oh, gods! I’m supposed to be performing tonight. I completely forgot the time!”

Timber quickly looked down at her watch, “You’ve still got half an hour, you’ll make it if you get a shake on.”

“I don’t know about a shake, I’d need a bloody miracle!” Lyra took off running towards the main tent. “Timber, lock down the site and keep a guard on it so nopony goes blundering into it!” she called over her shoulder. “Damn it! I thought I’d booked a bloody taxi? Where the hell are they?!”

One of the newcomers, a lemon coloured pegasus mare raced over. “If you don’t mind travelling with a load of tools, I can give you a lift,” she shouted heading for the parking area.

“I work with a load of tools every bloody day,” Lyra called back. “Get yourself hooked up while I try and wipe this crap off my hooves.”

The green unicorn mare raced into the tent, threw off her equipment belt and panniers, then quick as a flash snatched up a scrubbing brush to give her hooves as fast a clean as she could manage. Moments later she was outside leaping into the back of the cart.

The pegasus pulled on the last of the straps and looked over her shoulder, “You all set?”

Lyra nodded, wrapping a loading strap over herself in lieu of a proper seat belt. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll give you a shout if I fall out!” With a lurch the sky carriage began to move. Seconds later the awful contraption left the ground at break-neck speed, throwing Lyra back. “Or a scream,” she muttered to herself.

“Sorry!” the pegasus called back. “You okay back there?”

Lyra gave herself a shake, or at least tried to. Right then she was hanging on for what felt like dear life. “I’m okay!” she yelled to her maniacal pilot. “You just keep your eyes on the road, or the sky, or whatever it is you guys do.”

The pegasus laughed. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine,” she replied jovially. “I’ve only ever crashed the once.”

Lyra nearly choked, “Once?!”

“Yeah,” the winged mare laughed. “Re-lax, all the passengers survived.” She paused, frowning to herself as she shrugged, “Mostly anyway. Hell, they even managed to reattach everything too… once they’d found all the pieces...”

“EH?!” Lyra thought she was going to throw up.

The pegasus grinned wickedly. “Just kidding, it’s all good.”

“It’s all good...” Lyra felt her blood run cold. “Goddesses above,” she groaned, “I nearly defecated myself.” She cleared her throat, “Hang on, do you even know where we’re going?”

“The Cinder Club, isn’t it?” came the reply. “I heard you talking about it the other night.” She thought for a moment before asking, “Hey, you don’t think you could get me a complimentary ticket for me and my fella, do you? We’ve not been out in ages, and the poor bugger’s been stuck with the kids since we started this job.”

“Get me there in one piece and I’ll see what I can do!” Lyra shouted over the rushing wind.

Gods, how could the girl take flying this high over Equestria with such a sense of calm? Oh sure, she’d used pegasi taxis loads of time over the years, but at least they’d stuck to some sort of speed limit. Not like this loopy creature. She had only two speeds by the looks of it: ‘Terminal velocity’, and ‘Dead stop’. The latter of which came a hell of a lot faster than Lyra had expected too.

“Luna’s blue arse!” Without warning the green mare was lurched violently forward, her straps barely holding her as the carriage pulled up into a nigh on vertical climb. The wood creaked alarmingly, timber groaning loudly in protest at the abruptness of the manoeuvre. With no small amount of effort, Lyra heaved herself back, pulling in a deep breath ready for a well deserved protest.

The pilot beat her to it, “That the place?”

“Why, you-! Huh?” Her tirade halted before it was barely off the starting blocks. Surprised, Lyra poked her head over the edge. With such a clear sky it didn’t take long to get her bearings. Not all that far below them were the unmistakable brightly coloured lights of the Cinder Club, already lit despite it only being early in the evening. She shook her head; they were there already?! They’d barely taken off a few minutes ago! “Um… Yeah,” she managed. “That’s the place. Take us in behind the- ARGH!”

Without another word from her erstwhile pilot the carriage was off once again, accelerating at ridiculous speed, only this time in a wide banking spiral towards the ground. Lyra closed her eyes, trying, in vain as it transpired, not to imagine the crazed contraption she was currently strapped into ploughing pegasus first into the ground. Fortunately for both her body and current state of mind the descent lasted mere seconds before she became aware that the wind blasting through her mane and ears only seconds ago… had stopped. Tentatively she opened one eye, just a crack, but just enough to see.

“Oh, dear gods!”

“You okay back there?” The pegasus chuckled looking back over her shoulder, “You look a little green around the gills. No pun intended.”

“You! YOU-!” Lyra’s hooves fumbled with the strap, her magic pulling furiously at the buckle. “Don’t you damned well move, you… you lunatic!” Sweat stung her eyes as the strap mercifully came loose. In a trice Lyra pulled herself from restraints. Her legs nearly gave way when she dropped, quite literally, onto the hard packed earth. One shake later she was advancing on the pegasus. “What the hell were you playing at?!” she roared. “Were you trying to kill us?” The effect of Lyra’s tirade was somewhat spoiled by the fact that her mouth had dried out from the terrifying ride. As a result, what came out was more of an infuriated croaking than the full on blasting the pegasus pilot rightly deserved.

The young pegasus however, shook out her wings, quite unabashed by her passengers vocal protest. “Well, you did say you were in a hurry,” she pointed out pleasantly. “Didn’t you?”

The green mare’s eyes went wide, her teeth grinding in barely restrained fury. That cheeky, insolent, feathered maniac! Right then! She was really going to give her a piece of her mind now. She licked her lips, took a breath, and, “I-”

“Lyra?”

Lyra paused mid-roar. Who had said that? The voice was familiar too. Turning her back on the smirking pilot she turned to face the newcomer. He was a beige coated earth pony stallion, about middle age roughly, wearing a smart dinner jacket and had a cigarette poking out of the corner of his mouth. By the looks of it he’d been enjoying a smoke break when the careening cart had made its appearance only a few feet away from him. He’s lucky to be alive, Lyra thought bitterly.

A cheeky voice called, “See you tomorrow!”

“Huh?” Lyra looked back just in time to see the carriage hurtling back up into the dusk sky. Damn that mare! She’d have a few choice words to give her in the morning! Still, at least she was there on time. In fact she was actually early for once. Huh! Fancy that! She turned back to the stallion, “Hi, Jax. You okay?”

“Better than you apparently,” the large fellow observed. “That was quite the entrance. Who the hell was piloting that thing?”

“The demon driver you mean?” Lyra asked. She barked out a laugh, “She’s one of the volunteers at the dig would you believe. Bloody nut case nearly killed us both flying like that.”

“Probably thought she was being clever,” Jax snorted. He shook his head in dismay, “That’s teenagers for you.”

“Teenage pegasi, you mean,” Lyra corrected. “They’re all hormones and attitude if you ask me.”

“You weren’t a bit rebellious at that age?” Jax asked with a half grin.

Lyra sniffed, “Of course I was, but I didn’t scare ponies half to death for cheap kicks.” She shook her mane, clucking her tongue in irritation, “Ah, sod it! Look at the state of this! It’s going to take ages to get the knots out.” Her hoof moved up to the dishevelled mess of two-tone hair that now hopelessly tangled. As for her tail… She groaned; As far as that was concerned, the less said the better.

The large stallion took one last drag on his cigarette, tossing the remains onto the hard earth before stubbing it out. Grey smoke plumed into the air around his muzzle. “Well,” he said pleasantly, “don’t go getting yourself worried about it now.” He rolled his shoulders and yawned, “You get yourself a drink and enjoy the performances, pet. You look like you could do with something to help you relax. A night off’ll do you the world of good.”

“Sound good to-” Lyra paused, her hoof halfway to the door. “Hang on, what do you mean ‘a night off’? I’m playing tonight, Jax. Planks and Solid Start are already here, aren’t they?” She motioned to the familiar looking battered chariot that Planks habitually used to move their gear around despite the motley contraption looking like it was held together with little more than baling twine and sticky tape.

For the first time since she’d known him, the large form of Jax actually looked surprised. Normally nothing shook the indomitable fellow. Nothing dared. “Um, I thought you weren’t playing tonight?” he rumbled. His eyebrows drew down like two mating logs. “Mike told me he’d arranged everything and...” He blinked in surprise. “Lyra?” Jax stared at the empty carriage park. “Bugger me… How’d she do that?”

“Mike, you slimy bastard! Where are you?!” Despite the early hour the venue was already starting to fill up with dozens of expectant patrons, the murmur of whose conversation echoed loudly down the brightly painted hallways. All of this flowed unnoticed over Lyra in her frantic search for the source of her ire. “MIKE! Get your miserable carcase out here!”

Attracted by the shouting, one by one ponies began to poke their heads out from behind half open doors to see what all the commotion was. Arguments, drunken fighting and lovers quarrels were a common enough occurrence at the Cinder Club. In fact it was notorious for them all across Equestria, but this early in the evening? Wide eyes stared in open fascination. What was going on out here? What was this? It was a young mare by the looks of her, and quite a pretty one too. The irate girl was charging around the place shouting at the top of her lungs for someone! Now this really was something new! The inexorable pull of equine curiosity began to take its toll as members of staff started to appear in ever increasing numbers, each one of them hopeful of seeing some sort of exciting confrontation that they would doubtless use as a talking point for days to come. Lyra pointedly ignored them. Occasionally somepony would recognise her and wave or call a greeting, but for Lyra, she only had eyes for...

“Mike!”

One of the many dressing room doors opened to reveal a smartly dressed stallion in his mid twenties. He was a sleek blue-grey coloured fellow with a snow-white mane and tail which he was currently brushing out of his eyes. It was those very eyes, as blue as the morning sky, that had always attracted Lyra. She’d found out early on in her involvement with the tall male that he was more than aware of how others reacted to him too, and had no qualms about using his striking appearance to his financial advantage whenever, and however, he could. Particularly with mares. The microphone stand, his namesake, was clearly visible on his flank leaving little room for doubt as to his occupational talent.

“Lyra?” The stallion blinked in surprise. “What’s all the commotion?” He looked her up and down, a look of concern spreading across his impeccable features. “Are you alright?”

“No I am bloody well not alright!” Lyra snapped. She closed her eyes a moment as she caught her breath. “What have you done? Why did you tell Jax I wasn’t singing tonight?”

“Why did I...?” The tall male stared impassively at Lyra for a moment, his gaze never leaving hers. Suddenly he closed his eyes, nodding slowly as if listening to some inner voice on he could hear. “Ah, I take it you didn’t get the message I sent you then.” He shook his head resignedly, “If you want a job doing properly...”

Lyra had had enough. She’d dealt with this stallion more times than she cared to remember and decided to cut straight to the heart of the matter, “You’ve got another singer haven’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question. “You’ve replaced me.”

“Lyra,” Mike began in his soft, placating tone, “you do remember what happened the last time you were on stage, don’t you?”

He looked like he was going to say more, but Lyra beat him to the punch. “Of course I damned well do,” she snorted. “It was one time, Mike. One bloody time!”

Mike shook his head. “It wasn’t the first time, Lyra,” he replied quietly. “This has happened before. Several times in fact, and you know it.”

“Gods above, you make it sound like I’m some sort of basket case!” Lyra snapped with a cluck of her tongue. “I told you I was working on the archaeological dig and we were short hoofed. I was exhausted for bucks sake!” She began scrubbed her mane in frustration. “This isn’t the only job I have, Mike. I mean, I can’t survive on singing alone, you know that. The pay barely covers my cut of the bands expenses and accommodation!”

The green unicorn mare’s words appeared to have little impact on the incalcitrant host of the Cinder Club. “Some of the ponies here thought you were...” He sighed, a little overly dramatic for Lyra’s taste. “That you had a… a drinking problem.”

The green mare paused, her eyes going wide in outrage, “You… You thought I’d been drinking?!” Indignant anger began to boil over. “How can you say that?! You know damned well I barely touch the stuff, and I sure as hell don’t drink when I’m due to go on!” Heavy hoof-steps echoed up the corridor behind her, but in her current frame of mind Lyra barely registered them. “What’s really going on here, Mike?” she asked, leaning towards him. “What’s your angle, huh? That younger piece you’ve been chatting up taking my place is she? And what about Planks and Solid Start? They in on you little scheme too?”

Of course, Lyra didn’t know what the devious little Mic Stand was up to, and she doubted he’d tell her in any case, but she could hazard a guess. She was well aware that the Cinder Club’s owner had been promoting a younger mare for some time now. It was hardly a secret. In fact she doubted if there was anypony who didn’t know about it. What was her name again? Semi… Semi… Semi something-or-other. It didn’t matter. What did matter was that she had the feeling that this slimy rat standing before her had been trying to wriggle the newcomer into the good graces of the other two musicians in her band: Planks the percussionist, and Solid Start the oversexed horn player. Naturally the cute young thing, all giggles and coy little eyelash batting nonsense, had turned their heads in a trice. Lyra on the other hoof had never been looked at that way by the others. In fact she’d always been treated like ‘one of the guys’, and in fairness that had suited her just fine. Until now. Now she was beginning to wonder if that had had something to do with what was happening here. Things she’d heard, snippets of whispered conversations and muttered comments, began to replay through her mind. She’d generally ignored them of course, but she wasn’t ignorant of what others thought. She was well aware that some had begun to whisper that she ‘didn’t like stallions’, that she was a ‘filly fooler’, and… Gods above, why couldn’t ponies keep their bloody big muzzles out of her business? This was about Bon Bon, wasn’t it. Luna’s Ears! Couldn’t she live with her best friend, a friend she’d known for years, without being labelled as a… as a… Hell fire! Even if she was, even if she did… do that… with her… then why would anypony be interested even in the slightest? What damned business was it of theirs who she liked? Why did everypony seem to think you needed to have your entire life laid out for their personal inspection? Goddesses in their heaven, maybe she should have a business card printed with all her details on so she didn’t have to endure all this damnable speculation! She could picture it now:

Name : Lyra Heartstrings

Occupation : Musician

Age : Does it matter?

Sexual Orientation : MIND YOUR OWN BUCKING BUSINESS!!!

But of course they wanted to know, didn’t they. In fact, more and more she’d begun to pick up on ponies where she lived hinting, suggesting, and even encouraging a more ‘intimate’ relationship with her best friend! It was no wonder her blood pressure was up. She felt like she was going to burst right-

“Lyra?” A large hoof, surprisingly gentle for it’s size, took her shoulder. “Come on now, this isn’t helping.”

Jax towered over the green mare, dwarfing her like a liner looming above a tug boat. Lyra had seen the enormous door stallion throw drunks out into the street as though they were no more substantial than a bag of crisps. He’d never shown her anything but kindness all the time she’d known him, but she was under no illusions that he would eject her in much the same way if push came to a quite literal shove.

“I want to speak to Planks and Solid Start,” Lyra stated, lifting her muzzle imperiously.

Mike, however, was having none of it. “No,” he said simply. “It’s out of the question. You’ll have to wait until we close.”

“But… But that’s not until two in the morning!” Lyra exclaimed. “They’re got my instruments, and-”

“Jax will get them for you,” Mike cut in. “He can deliver them to the dig site in the morning. I’m sorry, Lyra, but you’ll have to leave. Jax?”

“Yes, Boss?”

“See her out, will you? And… be gentle with her. She’s had a hard day.”

Lyra’s cool evaporated in a heartbeat. “You! You lousy RAT!” Her hooves dug into the wooden floor, scraping against the hard surface even as she was being carefully, yet firmly, dragged to the back door, “I’ll get you for this, you shit house rat! You and those turncoat vermin!”

Mic Stand turned away, sighing as he began to head towards the rear of the stage.

“You haven’t heard the last of this!”

“No,” Mike murmured under his breath. “No, I very much doubt I have.”

The curtain swished aside revealing the two regular band members, and a certain pale pink and cream mare, barely more than a filly really, tuning their instruments. They weren’t the only band on tonight, but they were by far the most popular. At least, they had been before Lyra started rolling around on stage like some rum-soaked sailor. Despite what she thought of him he did like her, irrespective of what some of those rumours he’d heard had suggested. But whatever personal feelings he may or may not harbour towards her, he was still first and foremost a business stallion. Stories about drunken singers on stage falling over their own hooves, be it through exhaustion, alcohol or otherwise, could tarnish the good name of the Cinder Club, and that could never happen. He’d worked too hard to build this place up from the ramshackle country tavern it had once been to see it all fall apart because of one mare. He shook his head. No… No, if he had to take decisive action, as unfortunate as it may be to do so, then he would simply have to do it. He took out his hip flask and took a draught, closing his eyes as the fiery spirit slipped down his throat. The three of them were looking at him expectantly.

“Get yourselves ready,” he said quietly. “You’re on in thirty.”

Somewhere in the distance, or perhaps it was no more than a figment his imagination, the sound of a wooden door slamming shut acted as a heavy counterpoint to the leaden weight in his chest. The show, after all, had to go on.

Chapter Two - A door without a key

“Fing ish, shee...” A loud burp accompanied a heady waft of beery breath. “Itsh them changelinsh, oi reckons.”

Lyra ignored him, taking a pull on her beer.

“Ever sinsh them beetle fings beat da shit outta C’leshtia, ponies been pisht off good an’ proper.”

“Bloody right too,” another answered.

“She, SHEE!” the first one said delighted to have met a kindred spirit. “Oi knew othersh felt loik me, oi did. See here, shon, you lishen to ol’ Worzel ‘ere, oi’ll keep yer roit...”

“Oh, for bucks sake...” Another slug of beer slipped down Lyra’s throat. The green mare turned away from the old ones behind her and waved over to the bar stallion. “Same again, Chief.”

“I’ll get that.” A dark blue earth pony stallion moved up beside her from the throng. He placed three bits on the counter top and glanced at Lyra. It wasn’t much of look, not the kind of overly familiar attention she’d received in the past, and certainly not enough to get her hackles up. Unfortunately after all that crap with Mike she was far from in the mood to let herself be chatted up. Readying herself to shoot him down the moment he put the moves on her, she waited.

Any minute now, Lyra thought to herself. You come here often? Get your coat, you’ve pulled. I like your cutie mark, or any of the usual crap stallions throw at mares to get them into bed. Here it comes...

Nothing happened.

All the new guy was doing was standing there, drinking his beer without a care in the world. Whoever he was he wasn’t showing her the slightest bit of attention whatsoever. In fact other than buying her a drink he hadn’t so much as looked at her or said another word. He was either being excruciatingly patient or had changed his mind about her already. Had he gotten a closer look and decided she wasn’t his type? As much as she wanted to be left alone to drink her sorrows away, this guy had piqued her interest and simply trying to ignore that naggingly insistent curiosity would bug her until she’d satisfied it. Lyra tried to catch a glimpse of the curious fellow surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye, disguising the move as she took a mouthful of beer. He was, admittedly, a fairly decent looking kind of guy. Not bad, Lyra thought to herself. He was a stallion of average build, reasonably well dressed, sporting a cream coloured mane and tail with what may have been a few grey hairs here and there. As stallions went he was fairly unobtrusive, and no different from most of the males she’d seen over the years. He had nice eyes though – ruby red, and they suited the rest of his colouring very well indeed. She couldn’t see his cutie mark under his overcoat, but staring at his flank to try and catch a glimpse of it would have sent the wrong signals loud and clear. But… Who the hell was this guy? There he was taking another mouthful of his beer, and rather than coming out with some cheesy chat-up line he seemed to be more interested in the complimentary bowl of nuts than than her. Damn it, now she felt like she had to say something! She cleared her throat, trying to sound as if she couldn’t be bothered.

“Excuse me, do I know you?” Lyra asked.

A moment passed before the stallion, peering at her without moving his head, answered, “Maybe, I move around a lot.”

“What, you like a travelling salespony or something?” Lyra asked.

“More of a freelance reporter really,” he replied non-committally. “Work takes me all around the country so I meet a lot of ponies on my travels.”

Lyra leaned forward, staring at the bottles on the wall behind the bar. “I wish I could travel,” she sighed loudly. “I’m sick and tired of this bloody place.”

“Mmm.” The stallion’s expression gave nothing away as he said, “I thought that was the case. I could see it written all over you when I came in.”

“That why you bought me the beer?”

“Why else would I?”

“Because stallions normally only buy mares they don’t know a drink because they want to get their leg over,” Lyra sniffed. “That’s why.”

The stallion huffed quietly under his breath, “You can’t have met many good ones then.”

“Oh?” Lyra replied. She raised an eyebrow, “And that’s what you are, is it? One of the ‘good ones’?”

He didn’t respond. Lyra felt a flush of embarrassment race through her at the sarcastic tone of her voice, ruining her previously contemplative mood. She was being defensive, overly so if she were being be honest, and what was worse was that she suspected she was coming across as an ungrateful bitch. All the poor guy had done was buy her a drink, and here she was acting as if he were trying to get into her pants. If she’d been wearing any… Damn it all! She reached back and brushed her tail down, adjusting her position on the stool in case anypony got any ideas.

“Buckthorn.”

“Huh? You what?” Lyra looked at the stallion, suddenly finding herself staring at him eye to eye.

“My name,” he clarified helpfully. “Buckthorn.”

Lyra blinked at that ruby eyed gaze, quickly trying to collect her thoughts. “Oh! I’m, um… Lyra.”

He nodded politely, “I know.”

“Ah,” Lyra’s heart sank as realisation hit her. “Of course… you’re a fan.” She closed her eyes and lifted the flap of her pannier for a pen. Bloody autograph hunters...

It was the stallion’s turn to look surprised now. He shook his head slightly, lifting a hoof forestalling her, “Please, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not a fan. Not especially. I enjoy music, certainly, but I’m not what you’d call a ‘fan’ of any particular genre.” He smiled faintly as if in response to a joke only he knew the punchline to. “I saw your face on the promotional poster outside.”

Lyra froze, her blood running cold in her veins. The fresh memories of that accursed confrontation with Mic Stand, being physically dragged out by Jax, and that damned fool of a pegasus who’d nearly killed them both getting her to the Cinder Club in first place seared through her mind. Buck the Cinder Club, and buck the whole mange ridden lot of them too! After that nice little nightmare she’d stormed off into the twilight in a blind rage, letting the cooling air of the approaching evening wash over her. That was when she’d seen the tavern lights, and one thing, as they say, led to another. Or at least, to several pints.

“Hmph!” Lyra wasn’t sure what to make of the stallion’s assertion that he wasn’t a fan of hers. On some level she felt like she’d been insulted, but then maybe this guy was simply that straight forward. “To a fault,” she muttered to herself.

“I’m sorry?”

Lyra shook her head, “Nothing, just thinking out loud.” She let out another breath and started in on her next beer – the one he’d bought for her. “You haven’t asked why I’m in here and not there,” she grumbled. “At the Cinder Club I mean.” Perhaps he simply hadn’t noticed the dates.

“Does it matter?” Buckthorn asked in his measured tone of voice.

Lyra shrugged, “I guess not. Not now anyways.”

Buckthorn waved over the bar stallion for another round, “I’m sure you have your reasons for being here, much the same as I have mine.”

Lyra raised an eyebrow, “Which is to buy me a pint, apparently.”

There was that faint smile again.

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude here, Buckthorn, but why did you buy me a drink?” Lyra asked. Pushing against the counter she turned to face him. “And don’t say something stupid like ‘Do I need a reason?’ or some bollocks like that, okay? I’ve seen the ‘cool guy’ act more times than I care to admit, and I can assure you I’ve been chatted up by the best of them.”

Carefully, with near mechanical slowness, Buckthorn put down his beer and met her gaze. “I bought you a drink because you look like a mare who needed one - like a mare the world’s just taken one giant yak-sized shit upon.” He snorted, turning away from her again. “And because you remind me of a mare I once knew.”

“Aha!” Lyra clopped a forehoof on her thigh. “There it is! That’s the old biscuit!” She barked out a laugh, “I look like the jilted girlfriend, line. I knew there was something behind it.” She took a mouthful of her beer, satisfied that her curiosity had at last been served.

The stallion blinked slowly. “Nopony does anything without a reason, Lyra,” he explained calmly, “even if that reason is simply to see a young mare’s smile.”

Buckthorn’s manner of speech was infuriatingly steady, as calmly measured as a metronome and somehow made Lyra feel as though she were some commoner being addressed by the lord of the manor. Was it all an act perhaps? Was he talking down to her? Or did he see her as simply that – a lowly singer who was down on her luck?

“Well, whatever the reason, thanks for the drink.” Lyra gave her mane a shake, shifting her weight on the stool as she reached for the nuts. “I’m sorry you split up with your girl, Buckthorn. You seem like a decent guy. I’m sure you’ll find somepony else some day, and-”

“We didn’t split up.”

“-find some new girl who’ll… Huh?” Lyra looked at him over a mouthful of nuts.

“She died,” Buckthorn said simply.

“Oh! Ah, shit. Look, I’m… I’m sorry.” Lyra closed her eyes for a moment. Damn, damn, damn! Goddesses above, why couldn’t she have read the situation properly and kept her blasted mouth shut? She could see it all clearly now too, see it lurking there deep within Buckthorn’s eyes; something was haunting the guy. Here he was trying to help salve his heart by buying a mare who reminded him of his lost love with a beer, and what does she do? Makes out that he’s trying to bed her of all things! What an absolute tool she was. Celestia’s backside, could tonight get any worse?

Buckthorn shook his head. It was barely a movement at all, but it was there alright. “She was killed a year ago to the day.” He lifted his beer, “It’s the only time I drink now; as a way to honour her memory and to remember the good times we shared.” The stallion took a deep breath, “I don’t even like the stuff, but… she liked it.” He grimaced slightly before adding, “She was younger than me, by several years actually. We were due to be married too.” He snorted ironically, “That was the kiss of death right there.”

Lyra found herself staring at the stallion and hanging off every word. “How did… How did she die?”

Suddenly, and much to Lyra’s surprise, Buckthorn laughed, “You know, I have absolutely no idea? She was a watch mare, had been from the very day she’d left school back in Weatherall. Her parents were in the watch back then too, and even as a filly she was determined to follow in the family tradition.” He took a sip of his beer, staring into the foam swirling in the bottom of his mug. “We’d been seeing each other for about three years before I proposed to her. Three years...” He sighed and leaned back in his stool. “Then one day she came home and said she’d been ‘promoted’ to ‘special duties’, whatever that’s supposed to mean. She was often away for days at a time after that. I hated being apart from her naturally, but it was her passion, and I cherished every moment I spent with her all the more. The last time I saw her she said she was going to be back late as there’d been an incident at a watch house in Manehattan. When she didn’t come home I didn’t think much of it. After all, her job often took her from one end of the country to the other so I wasn’t unduly worried. Two days later, and with no word from her, I contacted the watch house only to be told by the enquiry officer that ‘nopony was available to answer my enquiry at that time’. And that was that. The next day these two suits turned up at the front door. ‘Can we come in? It’s about Calico.’ They didn’t need to say anything else. I already knew. I just… knew.”

Calico. That must have been his girl’s name.

“They didn’t tell you what happened to her?” Lyra asked.

There was that shrug again. “No,” Buckthorn said weightily, “all they told me was that she had ‘Died in the line of duty’. After that I stopped listening. After that… well, what can you do? It was the end. The end of her, of us, and of our dreams of a long happy life together.”

Twelve months ago… Lyra frowned in thought. She’d heard something about some trouble in the paper, somewhere over on the east coast. Wasn’t it a fight with some changelings, or… Gah! She couldn’t remember that now! Anyway, whatever it was it didn’t mean a damned thing to poor old Buckthorn here. The guy looked like his girlfriend hadn’t been the only one to die that day. He looked like his heart had stopped and somehow he’d just kept on rolling along. Before she knew it, two more beers arrived.

“What about you?” Buckthorn asked. “If you have something to get off your chest then I can’t think of a better time or place to do it.”

“Good beer and good company, eh?” Lyra asked with an ironic grin.

“If you can call it that,” Buckthorn said absently. “I can’t say I can give you any useful advice, but I’m told I’m a good listener.”

“Heh! Why not.” Lyra rolled her shoulders back, flicking her mane to one side. “It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to be right now...”

And so, true to his word, the stallion listened. Occasionally he’d ask a question to clarify something, nodding in all the right places and generally acting as the perfect sounding board for all of Lyra’s worries. Normally she wouldn’t open up like this to anypony, least of all a complete stranger, but the recent odd behaviour of Bon Bon, the trouble at the dig site, and the latest horror – that business with the band and Mic Stand, well… it all came pouring out didn’t it, just one blasted nightmare after another. It was all there, every last shred of it laid out like a bad hoof of cards - all the pain, all the heartache and the misery that she’d shut away in that tiny corner of her mind which held everything she didn’t want to think about. Now, Buckthorn, a complete stranger, had seen the lot warts and all. Suddenly Lyra began to regret telling him everything. After all, who was this guy? She didn’t know him, in fact he didn’t know her for that matter. Still, after tonight she’d most likely never see him again. She took a slug of her beer.

“Do you believe you’ve been pushing yourself too hard at the dig site?”

Lyra shrugged, “Hmph! Maybe.” She didn’t like to admit it, but when she looked at her hooves, at all the chips and the dirt that was stuck in every nook and cranny, not to mention the way her muscles ached, then… yeah… Kidding herself that she was perfectly fine was fooling nopony. It was something she couldn’t hide from if she were being completely honest with herself, and what was worse was that maybe, just maybe, Mic Stand had a point. She stared at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. “Gods… I really do look like shit.”

“Why do you think that?”

Lyra nickered. “You’ve got eyes haven’t you?” She lifted a hoof to her cheek, “Look at this; I’ve shadows under my eyes you could hide a bus in, and as for bags? Hell, you could do your weeks shopping in them!” She turned her head from side to side. “My eyes look bloodshot, my hooves are chipped to buggery, and my mane’s still got bits of crap in it from-” A pair of ruby red eyes, rich and shining with life, gazed into hers. “from...” Lyra swallowed. Bloody hell, he was so close! Part of her wanted to move away, whilst another part of her, that little voice in her heart that cried out for comfort, for understanding, was whispering something altogether different. She licked her lips. Had it gotten warmer in here all of sudden? A shiver ran down her spine as her heart began to race. She should stop this now before something happened, before… but… It wasn’t much to ask, was it? Just a little distraction from today’s… whatever it was. After all, he was the first stallion who’d listened, really listened to her troubles, and now…

“You’re a beautiful mare, Lyra,” Buckthorn said in that husky voice of his. “Don’t let anypony tell you different. If I were-”

Buckthorn’s eyes went wide as a pair of beery lips pressed to his. A moment, a single beat of the heart later, the mare had broken their connection. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Lyra, please, this is-”

“Wrong?” Lyra leaned towards the bar, a smile playing across her lips. “Maybe, but I’m old enough to make my own mind up.” She gave him a sly wink, “You too I imagine. Am I right?”

For a moment Lyra wondered if she’d overstepped the mark. Buckthorn looked… well, not so much surprised by her forwardness, but in actual fact appeared completely unphased by it. Had he been expecting this, or was he simply that inscrutable? Hell, the guy had been through the mill emotionally, and moping in the bar pining for his lost love forever more wasn’t going to help him move on with his life. As for her, well, she’d been on her own since this job had started, and who was to say she couldn’t finish the evening with a little fun to help her unwind? She was lonely - lonely, upset, angry, and thoroughly pissed off at life in general. For now anyway. Carefully she finished the last of her drink, put down her mug, and slid off the stool. Without a word, without breaking their mutual gaze, Buckthorn did the same.

“I have a room for the night,” the stallion said simply.

Lyra chuckled throatily, “That’ll do.”

Sunlight filtered through the curtains illuminating a mint-green muzzle. It looked like it was going to be another scorcher today. Lyra blinked, trying to get her eyes adjusted to the brightness. Smacking her lips she reached over to- Ah, well, what did she really expect? The cooling space beside her, the feeling of emptiness in the room… Well, it probably for the best. A one night stand like that was never going to lead to anything. By the looks of things, Buckthorn had left a little while earlier, and no wonder! The clock clunked round as though in answer to her surprise. It was it nearly half past eight!

“Oh, crap!”

With a heartfelt sigh, Lyra pulled the covers off and slid her hind legs over the side of the bed, letting them hang there for a while as she yawned. Gods, she felt good! A fuzzy sensation of wellbeing rushed through her, adding a pleasant momentum to her movements. Last night had been absolutely amazing. Buckthorn had known exactly what to do, and boy, he’d had her melting into his gentle ministrations like chocolate in the sunlight. He was experienced alright, she’d give him that. It was a shame he’d already left of course, but being a musician, liaisons like last nights were part of the lifestyle: a quick fling, a release of tension, and a good nights sleep were a perk of the job. What more could you ask for? Besides, she kept up with her hygiene regimen to ensure she didn’t get anything unpleasant, nor, perish the thought, pregnant. Kids were something that happened to other ponies. The very thought of having her own had always been rather alien to her, but… who could say? Maybe one day…

There was a knock at the door, “Hello? Taxi for Heartstrings.”

A taxi? Lyra jumped down and opened the door, flinching at the barrage of intense sunlight. Silhouetted in the brightness a uniformed figure stared at her.

“Good morning, Miss.” He looked down as his notepad, “Taxi for Miss Lyra Heartstrings?”

Lyra rubbed her eyes, “I… Yes, that’s… that’s me.” She swallowed, licking her dry lips. “I’m sorry, who booked you again?”

The taxi driver looked a little abashed, probably at the wild look of the sleepy mare standing in the doorway. He took a note out from his pocket, “The taxi was booked by a Mister Buckthorn, Miss.”

Ha! Would you fancy that? She knew Buckthorn was one of the good ones. Lyra smiled, “Thanks. Could you hang on for a few minutes while I tidy up?”

The driver nodded, “Of course. The gentlecolt said to give you all the time you wished. It’s on account.”

On account? Well, he said he travelled a lot, so it wasn’t that unusual for business types to have accounts with taxi companies. Personally she was just grateful that he’d thought enough of her to book one. She had a vague recollection of telling him work started at nine on site, and even with the travel time he’d booked the taxi to get her there comfortably early. A ‘good listener’ indeed!

“The good ones always slip away...” Lyra murmured to herself.

“I’m sorry, Miss?”

Lyra shrugged, “Nothing. Won’t be long.” She closed the door.

Magic sure came in handy at times. Levitating the duvet was child’s play. It settled nicely on the bed, and with the pillows plumped up, in no time at all she was in the shower washing the evidence of the previous nights frolics from her fur. Warm water ran down her mane, the soap lathering up nicely and returning a sense of equilibrium to her mind after what felt like an eternity of living in filth. Days up to her fetlocks in dust and dried mud, followed by evenings singing in a smoky club, had really taken their toll. Gods, Buckthorn must have thought she never washed! How he’d managed to… to do what he did… She shuddered. Even just the memory of it made her tingle! Chuckling to herself, Lyra washed herself off, towelled off, and collected her panniers. That was when she noticed something was missing.

Putting her brush away, the space where her treasure normally sat was noticeably empty. That was odd… She checked again. No! Quickly she took off the panniers and lay them on the bed, checking the other bag with a similar result. Lyra’s heart began to race. Had she left it with Timber? No… No, she’d put it back in her pack straight away, and they were the same ones she had now. She hadn’t left it on the table had she? That new guy had come in and distracted her, and… She shook her head; no, she had put it in her pack, she was sure of it!

“Oh, no… Oh, damn it all to-” Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, there it was. “Oh, thank Celestia!”

The book was there, laying open on the dresser. How the hell had she missed it? Lyra snatched it up, holding it to her chest as she let her heart rate return to normal. Years ago she’d searched high and low for this scarcest of publications, and to find another copy nowadays would be nigh on impossible, especially after they’d been ‘recalled’. Hell, lending it to Timber had been a foolish thing she’d regretted almost immediately. Considering how that narrow-minded mare had reacted she was surprised it hadn’t ended up as latrine paper. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again!” Relieved, Lyra lifted the dog-eared book, noting that her book-mark was still in place – a home made one Bonnie had given her – and was just about to put it in her pannier when a small piece of paper caught her eye. Curious, Lyra almost pulled it out.

There was writing on it.

Lyra,

Forgive me for leaving without saying goodbye, however you were sound asleep when I awoke and I needed to be away early. I have taken the liberty of ordering you a taxi to take you back to your encampment.

Thank you so much for last night.

Buckthorn

“Short and sweet,” Lyra muttered. Still, she didn’t have any room to talk, she was the one who’d instigated things last night, and at least Buckthorn had bothered to leave a note. In any case he was right about one thing – she’d needed the sleep alright. “Not that I got much!” she chuckled under her breath.

By the looks of things, Buckthorn had been having a quick read before he’d left. Specifically, ‘Chapter Twelve. Trans-material Teleportation, Quantum Thaumaturgical Engineering, and Other Lost Marvels of the Human Age.’ Ah, so he’d been reading one of her favourite chapters too had he? Lyra leafed through the next couple of pages, noting where a few rogue biscuit crumbs had snuck into the binding from her last read through. It was certainly a page turner alright. The general thrust of the author’s claims followed years of investigation into his belief that the various portals which littered the land were the invention of a lost civilisation. A civilisation of creatures known as ‘Humans’ to be precise. The fact that nopony had ever seen one, let alone found any mortal remains of one of these elusive creatures, had been explained by Hidden Path as an example of the humans cremating their dead – a practice also followed by her own race. According to Hidden Path and Professor Crackers, the age of the humans had come to an end in an extinction level event known as the ‘The Time of Fallen Sky’. Exactly what it was, he admits, is pure conjecture. Be it war, a plague, or some other civilisation ending event, the final result was that the human presence on Equestria came to an abrupt, and very final, end. This naturally lead to other questions on the subject, not least of which was exactly how did they escape? The answer has been alluded to in fragments of texts found in ancient ruins. The humans had apparently constructed a portal, but not one that merely linked to another on this world, but to another world altogether. If Path was right then the humans had simply gotten up and walked away, never to be seen again. Outside of academia and the odd group of nut job conspiracy theorists, if you were to ask anypony who humans were, most wouldn’t have a clue who, or what, you were talking about. Those who had heard of them would most likely think you were talking about mythical creatures as if they’d actually existed. To this, Lyra would usually answer “But what about the faerie folk? Remember the Breezies? They were considered no more that a myth until a few decades ago, yet now ponies take their friends and family to witness their mass migration.” It was, she believed, as compelling an argument for the existence of humans as any. Unfortunately for her there were those who considered even the remotest possibility of an ancient civilisation of ‘two legged hairless alien creatures’ having inhabited Equestria before ponies to be the stuff of not only fantasy, but bordering on heresy. After all this world had been created by the ancient gods, the parents of their own living gods, Luna and Celestia. It had been made for them - for ponies. The other races who lived here, such as the griffins, hippogryphs, llamas and yaks for example, were of little to no concern for the majority of the land’s equine inhabitants. Those foreign types probably had their own pagan version of the gods anyway, if they had any at all of course, but even if they did they were as grains of sand beneath the hooves of the eternal princesses. Lyra sighed. Such was the fickle, and extraordinarily insular nature of her people.

The clock on the wall clicked around to-

“Shit, the time!” Quick as a flash the book was safely secured back in its place in Lyra’s pannier.

“All set, Miss?” The taxi driver was strapped in and waiting patiently for his fare who all but leaped into the back.

“You know where we’re going?”

The driver nodded, “Yes, Miss. The archaeological dig site wasn’t it?”

“And don’t spare the mules!”

The flight back took no time at all. The coaching house they’d been staying at had been a lot nearer to the dig site than Lyra had realised. In all fairness she probably could have walked it, but why wear out your own legs when you could arrive, all expenses paid, in a pegasus sky taxi. No terrifying dash through the sky this time. No digging her hooves and teeth into whatever she could grab hold of to stay inside the careening, infernal device. Nope! This journey was smooth, professional, and decidedly more civilised. Being told by the driver that the tip had already been taken care of added an extra bit of pep to her already buoyant mood. Now this was how to start your day the right way!

“Hey, ho! Any brekkers going?” Lyra trotted through the flap of the tent and right into a room full of ponies all sitting around in their respective groups and tucking into what smelled like haybacon, toast and eggs. As always the newbies sat together, whereas the ‘old hooves’ kept to their ever decreasing cadre.

“Oh, thank Luna you’re here.” The familiar face of Timber peered up at the green mare from under bloodshot eyes. Damn, she looked terrible!

Lyra eyes went wide. “Bloody hell, girl, you look like crap! What the hell were you up to last night?”

Timber groaned and leaned back in her chair, “More than you, apparently.” She huffed under her breath, barely hiding the sarcastic note to her voice. “You look like you’ve been to the salon.”

“Eh?” Lyra paused. What was she…? Oh! “Ah, you mean that I washed my hair?” Lyra chuckled, helping herself to a bowl of cereal along with a large mug of tea. “That, my dear Timber, is what stallions will do for you when you give them the right incentive.”

Timber frowned, “What, they give you a shower?”

Lyra grinned, “Mmm. Well, you could call it that.”

“Forget I asked!” Timber rolled her eyes, “I suppose this is what I get for working with a pervert.”

“But at least I’m honest about it,” Lyra replied sipping her tea. She waggled her eyebrows comically, “Anyway, where else was I going to get a bit of fun around here? A night in a decent bed, a good wash, and a lift to work topped it off just nicely.”

“While we were up to our fetlocks in muck.”

Lyra nodded, pointing a piece of toast at her friend, “Exactly!”

Timber groaned, leaning her head on the table. “So, how did it go last night then?” She blinked, quickly amending her question. “Other than what happened after your turn I mean. There’s youngsters here, and listening to an in depth analysis of your x-rated exploits this time of the morning isn’t good for anypony.” She rolled her shoulders, “Least of all me.”

Lyra waved off the question with a shrug of her own.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” At first Timber appeared irritated by Lyra’s response. The green mare had always been difficult, often moody to the point of being downright obtuse, but she suspected there was a depth to her friend that… Wait… Oh, gods… “Oh, Lyra,” Timber said, lowering her muzzle. “They did it, didn’t they? They-”

“Yup.” Lyra burped loudly, taking another mouthful of her cereal before meeting her friend’s concerned gaze. “Shafted me good and proper too.” She gave a decided raunchy chuckle. “The first one that evening as it-”

“Lyra, for Celestia’s sake!”

“Bah! You’re no fun...”

“No fun?” Timber shook her head, rolling her eyes at the green mare’s obstinacy. “You’re being deliberately evasive, and you know it.”

Lyra’s reply was as typical of her as it was expected, “You’re damned right I am, and you know what? I can’t do buck all about it, and so I went out and got ridden senseless by the first decent stallion I’ve met in years. Now he’s gone, and I’m here.” She supped that last of her tea and slammed down the mug, loud enough to make the others turn to look at what was going on. “Enough said I think. Now then, what’s been going on while I was away?”

Timber stared at her for a while. She knew all too well there was no reasoning with Lyra when she had the bit between her teeth like this. In truth she’d been expecting something like this to happen for a while, particularly after the last incident of Lyra being helped off stage due to excessive fatigue. At least, she hoped that was all it was. These musical types had a reputation, and well deserved it was too, for excesses of all kinds – and not the good ones either. As her friend she prayed that Lyra wasn’t doing anything ‘foolish’ to try to mask the pain of what must have happened last night. It probably had something to do with that new girl too. Lyra was young, but not that young. Moreover she was not the kind of mare to be used and pushed around by the more manipulative characters that milled around the music scene like ancient vultures looking out for the young, the immature, and the comely. Goddess help you if you were all three. Success in the music industry, and in fact the arts in general, usually came after somepony influential had helped you up the ladder – after helping themselves to what you had to offer them. Lyra had alluded to it on several occasions, admittedly after a few drinks, but from what she’d said it appeared that nothing of that nature had happened to her. Or at least if it had she had never mentioned it. Timber had never asked either. Sometimes ignorance truly was bliss – and she hated herself for it.

“Ahoy, Timber! Anypony in?”

“Eh? Oh!” Timber gave herself a shake, “Yeah, quite a bit actually.”

Lyra waited for her to elaborate, “Well?” She gave an exaggerated shrug, leaning towards her friend. “Don’t keep it all to yourself, girl. Out with it!”

Timber shuddered slightly, then closed her eyes. “You know that new guy?” she began. “The one we were talking to yesterday?”

Lyra thought for a moment, then leaned back in her chair with a wave of her hoof. “Purple coat, nice arse? Whats-his-face. Paper, Vellum, Sticky Note or something, wasn’t it?”

Timber sighed. “Parchment,” she corrected.

Lyra nodded, “That’s the fella. What’s up? Buggered off already, has he?” She wouldn’t be surprised. They were losing ponies all the time, but as a rule they told you when they’d had enough. Usually anyway. Mind you, Timber was acting a touch cagey for some reason. Not only that… Lyra looked over at the others. They were staring at her. All of them, without exception. Timber looked like she was having a hard time finding the right words, and that was damned unusual to say the least. That girl never knew when to shut up normally. “Ooo-kayyy. There’s something a bit fishy going on here, and I don’t think I like where it’s taking me.” Lyra stood up, making sure she had their full and undivided attention. “I don’t mind going for a ride, guys, but I’d appreciate knowing what the bloody destination is.” She paused, feeling the silence flowing over her. “Luna’s arse! Is somepony here going to spill the beans or am I going to have start thumping your numb heads together?”

“Lyra, I-”

Lyra lifted a hoof, stalling her friend. “Nope, I wanna hear it from this lot. I’m guessing from the expectant look on their iddy-biddy faces that they’re expecting us, me rather, to be able to answer a question that I likely don’t know the answer to.” She jumped up onto the table and sat down on the side, letting her legs dangle over the edge in a decided un-ponylike fashion. “Well then, is somepony going to tell me what’s been happening here?”

After a lot of murmuring and staring at one another a familiar mare cleared her throat and stood up. It was the maniac driver from the previous evening! Lyra felt like giving the silly little fool a kick for that stupid stunt. But then she was the only one who had the balls to stand up and say her piece.

“It’s Parchment,” she began hesitantly. “He didn’t come back to the tent last night after we’d down-tools for the evening.”

Another of the group nodded his agreement, “It wasn’t like Parchment to be late for tea, but he was so engrossed in uncovering as much as he could he told us to go on ahead and he’d catch up when he began to lose the light.” That sounded about right. The evenings were long this time of year; so much so they hadn’t bothered to set up the portable floodlights that were still languishing in their packing crates outside.

“We thought he’d be back as soon as he got a whiff of food,” one of the mares continued. “Parchment loves his grub.” A round of nodding asserted that the missing Parchment was most assuredly not the kind of pony to miss out on a meal. Unfortunately it didn’t do much to help clarify what was causing so much consternation.

“I’m guessing at some point you noticed he hadn’t come back in, right?” Lyra prompted. One of the mares, a pale blue girl with white socks on each leg, let out a barely disguised sniffle as she was comforted by one of the others. Ah… So that was the girlfriend, was it? Either that or a sister maybe? The one doing the comforting looked up at Lyra, “When it started to go dark we went looking for him. We...” She swallowed, “We found his tools in the trench, and...” Whatever it was she couldn’t continue.

A slim stallion, a unicorn, shook his head, “I said we shouldn’t have been cocking around with that thing. The magical energy coming from it was like a cook-house fire.”

“Not a first it wasn’t,” another chipped in.

“But you don’t know what you’ll trigger!” the unicorn retorted. “I told all of you to-”

“Wait a minute,” Lyra interrupted, her mind trying to sift through everything they were saying. “‘Cocking around’ with what, exactly.” She had a horrible feeling in her gut about what they were going to say next.

The unicorn confirmed her worst fears. “We’d carried on excavating trench three after you’d gone, and Parchment-”

Lyra exploded, leaping to off the table. “You did WHAT?!” She couldn’t believe it. “An unknown ancient magical energy source and you lot carried on excavating it after I told you specifically to leave it alone?!” She turned her enraged gaze on Timber.

“I didn’t know,” the orange coated mare replied levelly. “I’d left them in trench four. Shortly after you left I went inside to write up the daily report to Twilight Sparkle on our discovery. The first I knew about Parchment vanishing was when Crème Brûlée came to tell me.”

The quietly sobbing white socked mare at the other end of the table pushed her muzzle into her friend’s neck. No doubt this young piece was the extravagantly named Crème Brûlée. Judging by state she was in, Lyra doubted she’d get much out of her. Mind you, it was all starting to add up in her mind, and none of it lead to a happy ending.

“You inspected the site?” Lyra asked.

Timber nodded. “We found his tools,” she explained, “and Ambrosia noticed the residual magical field right in front of the artefact.”

“The artefact...” Lyra’s heart sank for the second time that morning. Damn it all, and she’d been in such a good mood too! “So let me get this straight,” she said, tapping the table before her. “You lot decide, for whatever bloody stupid reason you concocted, to continue excavation in a trench you knew was potentially dangerous, and then buggered off for your grub leaving Parchment alone in said trench. Am I missing anything so far?” The general muttering and staring at the floor said it all. “Okay, so you go and search for him and he’s nowhere to be found. His tools are in the trench and there’s a high magical field, or a residual one rather, right where he was working.” She fixed them with a hard stare. “Yes?”

The whole group nodded glumly.

“We searched the area,” Timber explained. “We found nothing.”

“Did you call the local Watch?” Lyra asked.

Timber nodded, “I did, and I sent a message through trans-aether to Twilight Sparkle as well. She hasn’t replied yet, so I don’t know if she’s aware of our situation.”

Those two words echoed in Lyra’s mind.

Our. Situation.

Our situation.

Why did it have to be ‘Ours’? Lyra thought to herself bitterly. But of course, we all had collective responsibility for young Parchment, didn’t we? Questions will be asked. One of which is bound to be ‘Where were you when the lad went missing?’ Goddess help her career after that question materialised. Teamwork was all well and good, but the reality of it was quite another. Ostensibly there was no real hierarchy on an archaeological dig, especially since many of their volunteers were exactly that – volunteers. If they didn’t feel like part of the team or felt like they were being bossed about they’d be quite within the rights to up sticks and leave at a moments notice. As for the reality of it all, there was always the ‘senior archaeologist’ on site to make sure everything went to plan. They were, in turn, backed up by their deputy, and then by those who’d made archaeology their profession. In Lyra’s case it was one of her two professions, but that was down to simple mathematics. Archaeology was seasonal, and paid like shit. Music was all year round, however it depended upon what gigs they could get and where. Of course that little income stream had just gone right out of the window. If she didn’t think fast then the archaeology job could go the exact same way – right down the proverbial toilet.

“Oh, shit...” Lyra shook her head resignedly. “What a bucking mess. What the hell possessed you lot to continue digging in that damned trench?” But of course she knew the answer already didn’t she? They were, almost without exception, brand new volunteers. Most of the experienced ones had left early on, or else simply hadn’t turned up in the first place. Other than herself and Timber, this lot had barely held a trowel or brush in their lives. Gods above! Why the hell had she gone off for that damned singing slot at the club when they’d just unearthed something so significant? And not to mention dangerous! Come to think of it, Timber had been the senior one here when Lyra had gone off site, and she’d gone off to do paperwork, trusting that the nervous nature of ponies wouldn’t draw them to something so ‘unknown’ as that thing in trench three. Unfortunately what Timber hadn’t reckoned on was the other prominent equine trait – inquisitiveness. Couple that with the fact that youngsters tended to believe they were all indestructible and you had a real recipe for disaster. Goddesshelp her, it was like the proverbial big red button with the sign ‘Do not press’ written on it in large friendly letters. You just knew some silly bugger was going to have to give it a go to see what would happen. Either that, or… maybe Parchment wanted to be the one to discover something amazing, something he could use to impress a certain light blue mare with white socks?

“Timber? A word…” Lyra took her friend to one side, leaving the others to throw the inevitable accusations amongst themselves. “Don’t sugar coat it,” she said quietly. “Is he dead?”

“Why would-?”

“The Mountain of Shards,” Lyra said simply. “Desk Top’s excavation six years ago? Remember?”

“Oh...” Timber shook her head, paling slightly at the memory. “No, there was no… um, ‘remains’ this time.”

“Total evaporation?”

Again Timber shook her head, “I don’t think so. I’m no expert, but the residual magic field suggests it wasn’t anything aggressive.”

“Or deadly,” Lyra added half to herself.She was all too aware of how ancient traps and military grade ‘leftovers’ could still be potent enough to turn some poor sod into paste. Or worse...

“Okay,” Lyra said quietly, trying to think. “Let’s go and have a look at what the stupid idiot was messing about with.” Grabbing her panniers, Lyra turned to the others, “You muppets stay in here while Timber and I have a look at the trench. If any of you so much as put a hoof out the door before we get back then I’ll have you booted off the site so fast your arse will leave skid marks. Understand?” She didn’t bother to wait for a response, their look of resigned melancholy said it all. They felt guilty. In Lyra’s mind they damned well should too. “You had a look at the area, right?” she asked Timber. “So, what did he uncover? As if I need to ask...”

Timber grunter under her breath. “You don’t need to.”

Lyra tossed her mane irritably, “Luna’s bucking arse! I told those dimwits to cone it off and keep clear of the area until we’d done a full safety evaluation.” She shot her friend an accusatory stare, “Didn’t you supervise them at all, Timber?”

“Of course I did!” the orange coated mare snapped back. “They’re not foals, Lyra. I made sure the area was properly cordoned off and left them all working in the other trenches. Oh, and in case you’ve forgotten, we are still contractually obligated to write up reports every day. Since we’ve got hardly any bugger working here you may have noticed a distinct lack of office clerks!” She shot her friend a scathing look of her own, “Since you weren’t here I had to do it myself.”

“Oh! So it’s my fault now is it?” Lyra huffed.

Timber nickered irritably, not making any attempt to hide her anger at the situation. “Well I’m sure you had much more important things to do last night,” she said sarcastically. “You told me about it as soon as you arrived, remember?”

Lyra said nothing. Timber was right of course, and not only that but anypony looking into this matter was bound to interpret the whole situation in pretty much the same vein too. In a nutshell it was the complete lack of supervision on the night in question that had played a pivotal part in this creating this mess. Supervision, she hated to admit, that she was supposed to have provided. Unfortunately, whether off duty or not, the most senior one on site would be right in the bloody firing line so far as the authorities were concerned. Whether that was herself or Timber remained to be seen, and that tiny seed of selfish self interest was wriggling its way into her consciousness. Something else was in there too, something that she didn’t want to admit. Was this her fault? Had she been romping in the sheets with Buckthorn while Parchment had been-

“HEY!”

Lyra’s head shot up. Timber was shouting at somepony ahead of them.

“Hey, you there!” The orange mare began to pick up her pace, “Keep away from that! What the hell are you doing, that’s dangerous! Hey! Are you deaf?!” The two mares broken into a run, charging across the ground until they drew up short before a group of ponies they didn’t recognise. Timber ducked under the hazard tape they’d strung up between the warning cones. “Goddesses almighty, is there something wrong with you? Can’t you see the bloody tape?”

Lyra held up a hoof, stopping her friend. “Timber, I don’t think you should-”

“Should what?!” Timber barked. “We’ve already lost one pony, and these clowns have come barging in here ignoring all the safety tape without a care in the world. What the hell do you think we put that up for? For shits and giggles?!”

Slowly and deliberately, two of the suited characters in the trench turned to face the archaeologists. Matching sunglasses caught the rays of the early morning sunlight. An effect that wasn’t reflected in their wearers cold and impassive expressions. Lyra had seen ponies like this before, “Timber, for Luna’s sake, shut up!” She tried to catch the angry orange mare, only to have her push past her.

“Hey, you!” Timber rose up to her full height, looking for all the world like a mother berating her children. “Now you see here,” she began. “I don’t know who you are, but this is an archaeological dig site, and this trench has not been safety cleared for visitors. Now, you can all just turn around and get your nosy carcasses out of that, right-” She paused, staring at the small wallet and badge hovering in front of her muzzle.

“Agent Lazarus,” the slim lilac coated mare said coldly. “Celestian Bureau of Investigation.”

Hot anger was quickly replaced by confusion as Timber tried to take in what she reading and who was saying it to her. “The who-?” She took in the group of black suits, the sunglasses, the ponies in lab coats in the trench setting up what appeared to be some kind of monitoring equipment. “Oh,” she amended, clearing her throat. “I see. Well then, I must say you turned up a lot quicker that I expected. Still, you should have spoken to me first before charging in here. Like I said, the tape and cones are here for a reason. Now, if you’ll just-”

Lyra gave her friend a shove, moving in between the orange mare and the black overcoated agent. “You were expecting them?” Lyra asked in amazement. “Timber, you do know who these guys are, don’t you?”

“Well of course I do!” the orange mare retorted. She took a step back, irritated by Lyra’s questioning. “I told you I’d contacted Twilight Sparkle, didn’t I? She must have got my message and called in the plod.” She motioned towards the silent ponies staring at them. “This lot look a lot more on the ball than your usual watch characters, I’ll give them that.”

Lyra frowned, examining her friend’s expression, “Timber, these ponies... they aren’t the watch.”

“Oh? And who do you think they are then? A travelling morris group perchance?”

“Um, the CBI?” Lyra shook her head in disbelief at her friend’s blank expression. “What, you’re seriously telling me you’ve never heard of the CBI?” No response. “Equus? Bloody hell, girl, you been living under a rock or something?”

Timber sighed and face-hoofed, “Why should I have heard of them?” She glanced past her friend at the milling mass of official looking equines. “Look, they’re obviously here because of my call to the watch, Lyra. What other reason could there be? These guys didn’t just happen to be passing and call in for a nose ‘just in case’. It must be to look into young Parchment’s disappearance, right?” Timber raised her voice for the agent to hear. “Right? You’re here investigating the missing stallion, right?” The black coated mare looking back at her said nothing. At least she thought she was looking at her, those sunglasses gave very little away after all.

Lyra groaned. Carefully she approached the over-coat wearing mare. “Agent Lazarus, wasn’t it?” She waited for a reply which never came. “O-kayyy…” Lyra took a breath, composing herself. Since these ponies appeared to have the collective ‘rods up their arses’, she’d try speaking to them in a manner which might have a chance at getting through to the grey matter inside their thick heads. “I would like to speak to whoever is in charge, Agent Lazarus,” she began as clearly as she could. “My name is Lyra Heartstrings. I am the senior archaeologist at this dig and I may have vital information you require.”

A pause which could only be described as exceptionally pregnant, hung in the air between the two ponies. Just as Lyra was about to walk away to find somepony more communicative she heard a faint voice, right on the very edge of her hearing. However it wasn’t so much that it was faint that gave her pause, but rather that it appeared to be emanating from the agency pony’s ear. Her eyes focussed on the furry appendage, noticing the small artificial contraption that was sat there with a corresponding wire leading down to the mare’s muzzle. Due to her dark coat, Lyra hadn’t noticed it at first, but it certainly seemed to be a communications device of some sort. She’d seem similar ones used by singers at the larger concerts, but this one was so small as to be all but invisible. Oh, how she’d like one of those things! Now then, if she could link it into her instruments and the new amplification devices that were coming onto the market then she could really take her music to the next level! Lyra grinned wickedly, imagining herself banging out some serious power chords, drowning out that miserable excuse for a ‘band’ and especially that little tart who’d pushed her out of her own-

“Miss Heartstrings?”

“Huh?” Lyra gave herself a mental shake. Either the agent had miraculously split into two like some bizarre furry amoeba, or else another of this be-suited group had walked up without her noticing. It shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise anyway, as almost without exception they all looked like exact clones of one another. Good grief, didn’t these guys have any suits in their wardrobe other than plain old black ones? “Oh, um, yes,” Lyra fumbled, trying to regain the initiative. “That’s me. And you are?”

“Agent Sai,” the stallion said simply.

The unfamiliar accent threw Lyra for a moment, and she’d been all over Equestria when she’d been on tour with the band. She’d met Griffins, Llamas, even yaks, but this was a new one on her. She also noticed that this fellow wasn’t wearing the seemingly obligatory sunglasses the rest of them sported. Was this the one in charge? He had a certain bearing that gave the impression that he was, and not only that, but he had look about him that suggested a heritage other than purely equine. The guy had narrower eyes than the more common equestrian, and he had a short clipped manner of speech that was not so much robotic like the other agent she’d spoken to, but more akin to somepony reading off a cue card. She’d have to tread carefully here…

“A pleasure to meet you, Agent Sai,” Lyra began. “I believe your agent here may have already informed you that I’m the senior archaeologist on this site. I presume you are aware that one of our team went missing last night?”

There was a long drawn out pause before the agent intoned, “Mister Parchment from Tin Pan Cottage, Hallowed Conifers.” The agent nodded as if listening to some voice only he could hear. “We understand that his disappearance would have been approximately nine thirty last night, correct?”

Lyra glanced at Timber who nodded, “We believe so.” The orange mare cleared her throat. “He was last seen around tea-time, but we didn’t notice he’d gone until-”

“This would have coincided with the portal’s activation, yes?”

“-about...” Timber’s voice trailed off. The agent’s officious tone of voice had clearly unsettled the normally unflappable mare, and it was no wonder. These suited ponies gave off a distinctly authoritarian air which ran completely contrary to the friendly, casual way in which dig sites normally operated. This was only made worse by the fact that the two were coming together under highly unpleasant circumstances. They were here to help of course, there surely was no doubt about that, but even so she couldn’t help but shudder under that relentless, and utterly emotionless stare. “Portal? What are you-?” she stammered. Helpless, Timber stared open mouthed at Lyra as if she would be able to somehow explain how this strange pony knew something they’d only themselves found out about mere hours earlier.

Lyra’s heart sank in sympathy with her friend’s predicament. She’d been dreading this, and despite all the evidence pointing to the possibility that yes, it was a portal. Yes, there was residual magic around it. Yes, as unlikely as it may be it could have still been active, and yes, that fool Parchment had been uncovering it when she’d explicitly told them to leave the damned thing alone! Celestia’s arse, why had she gone off to that damnable singing venue when she’d come across something so blasted dangerous! Lyra’s heart was in her mouth, beating so hard she thought she’d pass out. Instead she gave herself a mental shake, took a breath, and asked, “Let me see it.”

The agent appeared to hesitate. “You haven’t seen it?” he asked curiously. “You did uncover it, did you not?”

Timber rallied magnificently and jumped right in, “No. As per standard operating procedure we cleared the trench and coned it off as soon as we detected thaumaturgical radiation. Parchment, unknown to us at the time, had returned to trench four and continued uncovering the… um… the...”

“Portal,” Agent Sai finished for her. “So, neither of you knew that this was a portal, nor that that it was active, correct?”

Lyra shook her head. “I’d detected some residual magic around the top of the archway,” she explained honestly. “As Timber said, we followed established protocol, coning off the area and-”

“You did not post a guard on the site?” Sai asked, interrupting her.

Lyra blinked at him. “A guard?” She glanced at Timber, knowing the answer already. “Agent Sai, this an archaeological dig. We weren’t expecting a live portal.”

“But in your line of work that is a risk, correct?” Agent Sai asked in his peculiar accent.

Lyra swallowed, “Well, of course, but we’ve never yet-”

“-And you have, on occasion, uncovered military grade weapons, explosives, unstable thaumaturgical anomalies etcetera, etcetera?” the agent continued.

Lyra felt as though she were being interrogated, “Yes, yes we do. But we-”

“-And on none of those occasions have you posted a guard, despite the clear and present danger to the work teams or the public?”

“No, we...” Lyra hesitated, waiting for him to interrupt her again. When he didn’t she answered, “In each case we followed established archaeological protocols, whereby we-”

“-These would be the same established protocols that were in place during the Mountain of Shards excavation, correct?”

“NO!” Lyra roared. “No, it is bloody well not correct!” Her gander was really up now. She stood tall, convinced her ears and cheeks were burning bright red. It was no wonder either! Who the hell did this guy think he was?! He comes barging in here, talking to her as if she’s some sort of common criminal, and she could see right where this load of bollocks was going too. Ho, yes! They were after a scape goat, and she was well and truly in this snide little shit’s sights. Keep calm, Lyra old girl, she thought to herself. He’s just trying to goad you into saying something you’ll regret. She took a calming breath before stating, “The inquiry into the Mountain of Shards incident proved that established protocols were not adhered to.” She took a step forward, meeting Agent Sai’s emotionless gaze with a hard stare she normally reserved for smart arse students when she was giving a lecture. “Now you listen to me, sonny Jim,” she rumbled. “If you have a problem with the protocols of archaeological digs then you speak to Twilight Bloody Sparkle about it. Not me, and most certainly not my ponies. If you’d bothered to do your homework before barging in here like a herd of hormonal yaks then you’d already know that she’s the one in charge of regulations and planning for all official archaeological digs in Equestria. Aside from that I can say with authority that we do not have the time nor the pony power to ‘guard’, as you put it, ever square foot of a dig just in case some damned idiot deliberately ignores flashing warning signs, a rope barrier, and bright orange cones.” She looked past the agent’s shoulder and pointed at his suited brethren. “JUST LIKE THOSE CLOWNS!” she bellowed. “Celestias rump, what the hell are those idiots doing in there?!”

The apparently unflappable Agent Sai was knocked aside as Lyra broke into an impressively standing gallop, leaped the trench, and charged right up to the edge of trench four where a semi-circle of ponies were gathered. That in itself wasn’t all that surprising considering the circumstances, but it was what was happening in the trench that had grabbed her attention. Three suited ponies were in there now, each of them attaching bright yellow packages of ‘something’ to the stonework. She knew what they were too – her father had been a hard-rock miner in his youth, and he’d taken Lyra to work one day when she’d been a young filly so she could see what he did for a living. It had been Lyra’s birthday, and her father had let her push the lever to blast the rock face for the next stage.

The next stage…

Amidst shouts of alarm, Lyra jumped down into the now surprisingly deepened trench four. Beside the exposed stone lay a shovel, and barely noticeable amongst all the other more recent activity a set of hoofprints heading straight towards the simple stone arch and the mud wall behind it. Despite not being active now there was a distinct feeling in the air, an indefinable sense of energy, of power, just on the edge of her consciousness. Her horn itched horribly.

“Miss Heartstrings,” Sai’s voice said from behind her, “I would suggest you vacate the trench immediately.”

Lyra looked up at him, pointing to the agents who were carrying on connecting the wires and explosives as if she weren’t stood just six foot away from them. “What are you doing?!” she hissed. “You’re not going to just ‘blow it up’ are you? Gods above, are you insane?!”

The agent said nothing.

Catching up to the others, Timber and Agent Lazarus came to a panting halt. “What… What’s going on?” Timber managed, swallowing. She blinked, looked down at the ponies placing the explosive charges, and paled noticeably. “No...” She shook her head as realisation of what the agency intended to do dawned upon her. “NO! Lyra, say something! Parchment’s on the other side of that thing!”

“It has to be done.”

“It… What?” Timber’s head turned to stare at the newcomer. He was a large unicorn stallion, almost the exact same colouring as herself, albeit mostly covered by the obligatory black suit.

“Standing orders from the royal court,” the stallion intoned. “Any and all portals not within the immediate control and jurisdiction of the Equestrian Ministirium Arcanum are to be destroyed immediately.”

“Destroyed? But we have a missing pony here!” Timber choked, wiping the sweat from her eyes. “If you blow that thing up we’ll not only lose a priceless piece of equestrian history, we’ll be sentencing Parchment to… to who knows what!”

The orange unicorn was as impassive as stone. “’Who knows what’,” he echoed quietly, “Is precisely what we intend to stop coming through from whatever lies on the other side of that thing.”

“But the portal’s inactive!” Timber tried to reason. “Come on, for Luna’s sake, we can’t just leave him there! He could be in real trouble.”

The agent lifted his head and sighed, his body language suggesting the conversation was not only tiring for him, but also utterly futile. “It may be inactive now, but whatever he did to activate the portal could happen again at any time,” he explained. “If he could go through, then logically it follows that ‘something’ could likewise return the same way. It could be nothing, or it could be something none of us are prepared to deal with.” He removed his sunglasses, fixing Timber with a withering stare. “I will not allow a risk of this magnitude in the heartlands of Equestria.”

Timber’s eyes narrowed. “You do this,” she said attempting to sound menacing, “and I will make damned sure that Luna hears of it. What’s your name, agent?”

The orange stallion didn’t seem phased in the slightest. “Warlock,” he said with a faint hint of pride. “And as for the princess, who do you think told us to come here?”

“Wha-?!” Timber was nearly shaking with rage. “I contacted Twilight Sparkle!” she managed. “She is the personal student of Princess Celestia herself! How dare you trample all over her authority! She’s the leader of the Ministirium-”

“She is on the advisory board of the Ministirium,” Warlock corrected her. “And as such she had a hoof in ratifying the orders to destroy items of dangerous unknown origin under section five of the Defence of Equestria Act.”

“Oh, don’t you dare quote that shit at me!” Timber snarled. “Don’t you move a damned muscle until I’ve spoken to Miss Sparkle, you… you bloody suit, you!” She called down to Lyra who was currently attempting to block the other agents from retrieving any more of the explosives, “Lyra, I’m going to call Twilight. Don’t let these berks do anything until I get back!”

“You got it!” Lyra called up. And with that, her friend left.

Warlock watched her go. A moment later he turned to his team who were all looking at him expectantly.

“Orders, Sir?”

“They haven’t changed,” Warlock replied. “Continue.”

“Now, wait just a minute!” Lyra yelled up at him. “We can’t just-”

“We can,” the stallion said levelly. His eyes narrowed. They were so cold, so utterly without emotion that Lyra felt her ears droop and took a step back. “I can.” Warlock closed his eyes and took a breath, “Get her out of there. If she interferes again, shoot her.”

“Shoot-?” Lyra stared up into the eyes of the agents. The ones who weren’t working were staring right at her. Oh goddesses… they’d… they’d actually shoot her?! “Y- You can’t do that!” Lyra gasped. “I’m an Equestrian citizen! You haven’t got the authority to… Ponies don’t just… You can’t!”

But they could. And judging by the manner in which they were slowing advancing on her, they had every intention of doing just that.

Lyra’s heart leaped into her mouth for the second time that morning, only this time she could feel the blood draining from her face. She was shaking, but not with anger, nor even with excitement, but with fear. Genuine, blood chilling fear. They wanted her to leave. If she didn’t of her own accord then they would drag her out bodily. If that failed, if she resisted… An image of her body lying in a pool of blood, her pitiful remains buried under a pile of destroyed stone and earth, filled her mind. One day, one day archaeologists may come here again, maybe even descendants of those archaeologists who were in the tent right now, and find the skeleton of a certain unicorn mare. Part of her wanted to run. By the gods she wanted to run! But what about Parchment? Who was going to explain to his family what had happened to him? What, that he’d simply disappeared? That the agency, those sworn to protect ponies, had blown up the only means of finding him? It was… all of this… it was madness!

The mint green mare backed away from the approaching agents. “Keep away!” she hissed. “I’ve… I’ve got this, and I’m not afraid to use it!” To her utter amazement the agents stopped in their tracks. Oh! Lyra swallowed. It actually worked! Ha, fancy that! Actually, what was it that she had and wasn’t afraid to use? She’d felt behind her and grabbed something not really thinking what it was, but that… “Oh… Oh, shit...”

The detonator floated in her magic.

“Miss Heartstrings, I think you’d better put that down, don’t you?” It was Agent Sai. “You realise what that is, correct?”

There he was with that bloody ‘correct’ thing again! Damn him! Damn… “Oh, shit...” Lyra couldn’t take her eyes off the detonator. The agents weren’t moving now, but she couldn’t really stop them, could she? But… But she could delay them long enough until-

“Lyra! LYRA!” Timber’s voice drifted over the edge of the trench. “Twilight’s on her way! She said she’ll be here in a few minutes!”

Oh, thank the goddesses! Lyra’s heart rate, dangerously high as it had been, slowly began to return to normal as relief flooded her. “Ha! See, Mister Warlock!” she chided gleefully. “Twilight Sparkle, the princess’s very own protege, is coming here right now. How d’ya like them apples, huh? Smart arse.”

“How?” The senior agent motioned to one of his agents. A moment later they were all scrambling from the trench. “Like this,” he said calmly. Carefully, deliberately, he lifted a box up in his magic. Lyra’s eyes went wide. “I always bring a spare.”

Time, as it always seems to in times like these, moved with all the speed of an arctic glacier. Timber yelled. Lyra looked up. In the distance a sky chariot was approaching, a familiar lilac unicorn standing up in the back of it yelling and waving her forehooves. There was Warlock, the detonator, the glow of magic, and the intense itching of magic building up to insane degrees. Lyra stumbled backwards as though trying to distance herself from the orange coated agent. Her back was immediately met by cold, unyielding stone, the worn ancient blocks an immovable object weighted down by the timelessness of untold ages.

And then, somehow, somewhere… something gave.

Magic - raw, unadulterated, and as wild as the most untamed beasts of the forest, burst all around her in a violent scream of pure unleashed energy. She saw the plunger fall, the silver light flooding the world...

Lyra Heartstrings: Mare, singer, musician, performer and archaeologist, simply… vanished.

Chapter Three - The new world

One of the worst aspects of portal travel, particularly to the uninitiated, is the nausea inducing sensation of being ‘outside’ of what one would consider as the more typical three dimensional space we are used to – that being up, down, left, right, and finally forward and backward. Some would debate that there is another dimension to be added to this list, that being the concept we know as ‘time’. Whether time is an actual tangible reality or simply a metaphysical construct of intelligent beings to measure the progress of existence is probably best left to scientists and philosophers to contemplate. The concept of portals however, at least what mages throughout the ages have theorised, is relatively simple; it allows the user to pass through one point in space and emerge through the corresponding portal at the other virtually instantaneously. Note the use of the word ‘Virtually’. Variations and complexity in the portal network certainly exist, however little is known of the specific mechanics of how such magics work in actuality. The knowledge of how this incredible magical feat of thaumaturgical engineering was achieved has, regretfully in any meaningful sense, mostly been lost to the ages. Little to no records now remain, and those portals that have been uncovered intact are either permanently deactivated or else dangerously erratic to the point of being unusable in any sense of the term. It has been rumoured that the act of wanton destruction of what scholars refer to as the ‘Portal Network’ was commenced during the wars of the three tribes to prevent the danger of a foreign aggressor appearing in their enemy’s midst unexpectedly and in near silence. Although understandable considering the nature of that continent wide conflict, the loss of such a magnificent piece of magical architecture was a terrible, and seemingly unrecoverable blow to ponykind. Today journeys of what was once mere seconds now take hours, days, or even weeks to complete. Sky carriages, locomotives and dirigibles offer some semblance of rapid transit, however they are little more than a rather sad and unfortunate attempt to repair what we once took for granted. As any portal discoveries are reportable by law and, perhaps even more draconian, that any research into portal technology is banned by royal decree, it is unlikely we will ever see a return to the glory days of high magic that was once such a staple of Equestrian life. For now at least the arcane concept of portal transportation has been relegated to little more than flights of fancy and stories told to fascinate the imagination of foals.

Professor Cinnamon Crackers (Ret)

Royal Equestrian College of Art and Science

Department of Historical Studies

Lyra thought she was dying. Or dead. Or at least something that was almost as bad as the former two options. Whatever it was that was happening to her right then she wanted it to stop. Now. Dear gods, how long had this been going on for?! Perhaps it was just as well she’d had her eyes closed when the last of that blindingly bright silvery light blinked out, plunging her into an abyss of absolute darkness. Darkness and silence. Instinctively she’d opened them again only after the blast of flame appeared, hurtling towards her at terrifying speed. Expecting a horrifying, searing death engulfed in merciless fire, Lyra had squeezed her eyes shut once again and waited for the end. And yet… nothing happened. Nothing at all. Instead it just hung there; a broiling, burning mass, impossibly suspended in space only a few yards away from the helpless mare. It was oddly reminiscent of a highly realistic painting of fire, only… only it was still moving, just… really slowly. At least it wasn’t getting any nearer now, or so she hoped. As for herself though, she was just as helpless. Hanging there in a black space of nothingness she had no way of determining what was up, down, or in fact any true direction whatsoever. She’d thrown up too, only to find that the unpleasant mass of vomit had stayed with her, floating around her body and making her feel as though she wanted to add yet more to the bilious mess. Fear quickly overcame any sense of curiosity regarding her situation, although she was somewhat surprised to discover that she hadn’t broken out into a blind panic. Well, not yet anyway. That would probably happen in a moment or two - when she’d finished screaming.

Oh, and perhaps it would be an idea to mention here that sound doesn’t work in portals either.

Another aspect of portal travel which Lyra was not privy to was what happened at the other end. What felt like hours in the void between portals, which although in truth was probably no more than a few seconds, ended with another burst of silver light and the ejection of the green unicorn, backwards, onto a thickly forested floor.

“Oh… Oh, gods...” Burning bile surged up in Lyra throat, threatening another surge of vomit. Dropping to the ground, the alien sounds of strange birds, the rustling of unfamiliar trees, plants, and brightly coloured insects, distracted her. That was when she heard another sound. Lyra looked up to see the silver light of the portal hanging only inches from her muzzle, ready to discharge its other passenger. Instinctively Lyra rolled aside, covering her face with her forehooves. She was just in the nick of time. Barely had the young mare begun her life saving movement when the fire that had been following her inside the space between the portals burst forth into the world with a deafening boom of ear shattering sound. Bone blackening heat followed in its wake, cruel yellow flames and dust savagely lashed out into the lush greenery like a living beast, tearing and incinerating everything in its infernal fury. Then, as fast as it had appeared, the hellish conflagration vanished as though it had simply never been. As too did the wan silvery light of the portal. Shaken, frightened, and not a little singed, Lyra warily got to her hooves and stared about herself in bewilderment, her unfocussed gaze taking in the portal from which she had just emerged. To her dismay it was no different to any of the others she’d encountered during her career. Right then she wasn’t sure exactly what she’d expected, other than her body torn apart and thrown to the four winds by unstable ancient magics of course, but surely there had to be something, anything that might suggest it was still active, right? She tried to focus, using her own abilities to see if there was any way the portal could come back to life and… and then what? Take her home? But there was nothing. Normally after an energetic thaumaturgical event there would be high levels of magic radiation in the immediate vicinity, often taking weeks if not months to fade completely away. Yet incredibly there was no magical residue emanating from it whatsoever, a situation made all the more incredible considering she’d just been thrown through the thing followed by a blast of explosive force which filled the air around her with the heady smell of burnt wood. It was as though somepony had simply switched the ancient portal off and the very magic which powered it had vanished without a trace. In actual fact there was more background magic coming from the surrounding trees than from these weathered old stones. The stone archway, as impossible as it seemed, stood there as quiet and as innocent as nothing more than a curious assemblage of stone blocks with a perfect view of the forest through, and around, its ancient architecture. Lyra brushed the moist leaves and… ‘things’ from her coat and stood up, tapping the portal.

“Gods above,” she muttered. “Guess I’m not going back that way any time soon.”

Mind you, somepony would come to collect her soon, wouldn’t they? After all, Twilight Sparkle had known she’d fallen into the portal, right? She’d seen her coming towards the dig site, and then there’d been that… that explosion. Oh no… Oh no! She wasn’t dead, was she? She’d heard about the Eternal Herd of course, they all had, but… but was this it? She certainly felt alive, and… No. No, she’d fallen into the portal just as those lunatics had set off the charges. It was only by sheer luck she’d not been blown into tiny little Lyra chunks. But… but where was she? And not only that, but if they’d blown the portal, then how could she get home? How could Twilight Sparkle, for all her magical ability, bring a dead portal back to life and get her home? There was no more portal at the site! She could be anywhere! And… And this sure as hell wasn’t Equestria!

Panic gripped her.

It was hard enough to breathe as it was in this moist, oppressive heat, but with her heart trying its best to burst out of her chest and the strong desire to run gripping her, blackness started to press in on the edges of her vision. It was too much to take in. Horribly Lyra knew she was going to pass out, but what would happen to her if she did? That tiny piece of calm at the back of her mind was screaming at her to calm down, but… but how could she? She had no food, no way of calling for help, or… or…

Crack.

“Oh, no!” Lyra gasped, covered her mouth with her hooves.

Something was walking through the undergrowth. Something big. Whatever it was huffed the air around it as it walked, no… stalked, through the thick green vegetation. Lyra held her breath, her eyes wide as the beast passed her by no more than a few feet away. And then it stopped, snuffing the ground before the portal. Lyra could swear the thing was looking at her hoof prints, at the pile of vomit that had followed her out, and-

A scream.

Lyra threw herself back against a tree, stifling her own shriek of fright. The beast turned and lunged, its needle-like teeth sinking into its prey in an instant. A tussle, a shake, and it was all over. The small pig, or whatever it was, grunted once, then merely twitched as its nervous system began to shut down. Lyra could only watch in horror as the creature began to devour its prey. Celestia’s rump! Lyra thought wildly, What the hell am I going to do now?! She had no idea what to do in situations like these! Where she came from the nearest you got to wild animals was in the forests, and nopony in their right mind would go in there. Stories abounded about the showed denizens of those forbidding depths. The timeless forests of Equestria were the home of nightmarish creatures like timberwolves, cragadiles, ursans, and according to one story, even the occasionalpassing hydra. But nopony went into the forest willingly for goodness sake, so why… go… Oh, Luna, it was the Everfree! The damned portal had dumped her right into the bloody Everfree! Fetlocks and feathers, she had to get out of here or that pig wouldn’t be the last innocent on the monsters menu today. And so, carefully, slowly, Lyra crept back into the concealment of the undergrowth. Praying that the ever present sounds of the forest would mask her laborious movement, the green mare didn’t slow, and she sure as hell didn’t speed up either. The beast, even if it knew she was there, was busy gorging itself on its kill anyway, so Lyra wouldn’t be high on its priority list even if it had noticed her. She hoped. But gods was it hot in here! And humid too. Sweat soon began to pour down Lyra’s back with her efforts, and after a while she decided to take a chance, to stand up, and put as much distance between her and that thing as possible. Of course she had no idea which way was ‘out’ in regards to her current position in the Everfree, but even that enormous place didn’t go on forever. With any luck she’d be out by nightfall whereby she could simply stop at one of the many villages and hamlets that bordered it. Perhaps she’d find an inn or a tavern keeper who’d be willing to put her up for the night. She had a few bits in her panniers, and even a packed lunch she’d made for her non-existent musical adventure. As for water, that could be a problem. Her flask held a small amount of sweetened tea, but other than that she’d have to find something more substantial. Despite the humidity the cloying heat was causing her to perspire, her fur steadily wicking it away from her skin. She’d be losing fluids at an alarming rate, however it was likely there’d be streams here and there surely?

“There you are. About time too!”

“Eep!”Lyra’s heart leaped as she span to find herself face to face with a yellow coated mare, an earth pony as it turned out, her green eyes looking half at her and half at a large pack which hung over her back. The newcomers rich orange mane effortlessly caught the dappled light as it passed through the canopy. It was the same light, incidentally, that illuminated the well worn track which lead down to a breath taking panorama of the most beautifulbeach Lyra had ever seen. Golden sand, completely devoid of bathers, joggers, ice-cream salesponies, and all the other flotsam and jetsam so typical of Equestrian holiday destinations, spread out along the edge of the forest like the border of an old master’s oil painting. It was, in a word, breathtaking.

“Tch! Come on, shake a tail will you? I didn’t lug all this crap here for nothing. There’s work to do.”

Dumbfounded, Lyra followed. Who was this? She obviously thought Lyra was somepony else, and she looked like she was familiar with the area too. All things considered did it really matter who she was? She knew the way out!What a relief! Before longLyra would be back home safe and sound, spilling out the story of her adventures to Bon Bon who would doubtless think it was all some sort of drunken fantasy of course, but then that was Bon Bon for you. What the hell had been her problem lately anyway? The cream coated mare had been distinctly off colour recently and Lyra had noticed her throwing up in the sink early the other morning too. Ha! If she didn’t know better she’d think she was pregnant! Yeah, like that would happen with her! Still, it was more than a little worrying. The two of them had spoken about it of course, or rather she’d tried to. Bonnie had been evasive to the point of blowing up on her for even so much as mentioning it. In the end however she’d agreed to go to the doctors, on her own of course, but again, that was Bon Bon for you. Anyway, after all that it had merely ended up with Bonnie confirming it was nothing more than a tummy bug and her friend was worrying unnecessarily. That might be so, but did she have to be such a bitch about it? Would she have preferred it if Lyra had simply ignored the whole issue and carried on as though she didn’t give a toss about her friend’s suffering? Lyra sighed; she knew the answer already – she probably would. Bonnie could be secretive, she’d known that all the time they’d been friends, nearly a lifetime in fact when she came to think about it, but there were days when she really came close to knocking some sense into the stupid creature. Damn, she could be so stubborn sometimes!

Crunching under hoof caught Lyra’s attention. The track they’d been following from the forest had opened out, changing from rich soil to sand, and from there for the second time that dayanother incredible sight was laid out before her. It was the sea. That enormous expanseof water lay like a heavenly carpet of purest blue, the faint movement of the waves shimmering with the light of a billion silvery sparkling gems. The wind was barely noticeable too, gently teasing at her tail and mane. It was all so beautiful she had a sudden urge to run into the water, shouting and leaping with the sheer joy of life.

“Hey, are you a dullard or something?” The newcomer glanced over her shoulder at Lyra, grumbling about something that she was pulling at in the sand. “Give me a hoof here will you?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah… hang on a min.” Lyra hurried over to see the earth pony digging at a piece of metal half buried in the sand.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” The yellow mare waved Lyra aside, lifting the metal object before her. “Very niiice!” she beamed.

A spherical golden locket hung from her hoof trailing a long golden chain. It was incredibly fine work, and in remarkable condition considering it had been dropped in the sand. That said the climate here was hot and dry, unlike the muggy heat of the forest, so corrosion probably wasn’t that much of a problem. If it was gold, and from here it certainly looked like it, then that in itself would explain the state of preservation.

“May I?” Lyra asked.

“Yeah, sure, knock yourself out,” the mare replied casually.

“Cheers!” Lyra’s magic glowed, reaching around the object and floated it over to where she could take a better look. “Looks like a pocket watch,” she said, carefully turning it this way and that. “See, here’s the catch.” With a click the timepiece popped open revealing the water stained face and rusted hands inside. “Ah, that’s a shame. Still, bit of TLC and you could get this baby working again I reckon.” She frowned in thought. “Very small though. Intricate work for any horologist. Magic I suspect. But still… Hmm, I wonder if-” Lyra brushed away some on the damper sand from the back. “Ah, now that’s a shame.” She held up the watch in her magic so it caught the light. “There’s something written here, but I don’t recognise the language. Llamalian, maybe? They had a particularly weird old script back in the day which-”

“Oh… Oh, Creator!”

“Huh? What?” Lyra’s mind immediately conjured up an image of the beast in the forest. The snapping jaws, the teeth! Gods, those teeth! Her heart thumped and she turned, expecting to find-

“Your… Your head!”

Lyra froze, her hooves slowly, carefully moving upwards. Her head… Had she cracked her head in the portal? Oh no, her horn! She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, and reached for… “Phew!” Lyra exhaled, flopping onto the sand in sheer unadulterated relief. “Oh, thank Celestia it’s still there,” she breathed, “and in one piece too! Gods above, I nearly crapped myself.”

“You-” The newcomer swallowed and backed up a step. “You’re a… a unicorn!”

Lyra barked out a nervous laugh. “No shit, Sherlock! What gave it away?” She motioned towards the object of the mare’s stare, “It works and everything, see? BZZZT!” She burst out laughing as she jabbed her horn towards the strange girl. The way she leaped back was comical to be sure, but the expression of genuine fear on her face gave Lyra pause. “Hey, are you okay?”

“O- Okay?!” the yellow mare stammered. “How the hell haven’t you been purified?! Oh, Lode’s breath! The Zeks will take me for this!” She stared around herself in alarm. “Lode preserve us, what the hell am I going to-”

“SIX!” A voice called out from behind them. “Six, are you there?”

“Oh, no!” The yellow mare, Six apparently, suddenly leaped forward and grabbed Lyra. “Quick, get behind that rock there, and for Lode’s sake don’t make a sound or it’ll be the tower for both of us!”

“Tower? What the hell are you- Ooof! Hey, watch where you’re shoving girl!”

“Move it you idiot or I’ll-”

“Six?” A stallion, not much more than a colt by the looks of him, trotted onto the beach beside the mare he called ‘Six’. “Are you alright? Where’s Eighteen?” ‘Six’ went pale. “Hey, you okay?” The chestnut coated stallion leaned forward, clearly concerned. “You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine!” Six squeaked. A moment later she cleared her throat and lowered her voice back to normal. “I’m fine, Fourteen” she clarified. “I’d just found something amazing and you made me jump when you called me, that’s all.”

The new fellow, Fourteen apparently, watched her a second before shrugging, “Hm, sorry about that. What have you found?”

“This.” Six held up the watch which had been unceremoniously dropped back onto the sand. “Nice, eh? The Zeks will be over the moon with this I reckon.”

Fourteen frowned, “You shouldn’t call them that, Six.”

“Oh, come on,” Six huffed. “Everypony called them that before Ninety Nine started up with that weird cult of hers.” She rolled her eyes, “The ‘Lords’ for goodness sake.”

“Whichever way you look at it, that’s what they are,” Fourteen replied shortly. “With the following Ninety Nine has I don’t think it would be wise to keep using words like that. You know how it gets her riled up.”

“Pah!” Six snorted bitterly. “She’d be better off getting herself felt up, the stale old bint. What that mare needs is a good stallion to give a damned hard pounding. Who knows, itmight even knock some sense into her.”

“That’s disgusting!” Fourteen took a step back, his ears flattening.

Six only laughed, “Oh, come on! Anyway, how about you, eh? Why don’t you ‘sacrifice yourself for the cause’ and take her for a ride?” Six chuckled lasciviously, “She’d be butter in your hooves after that, perhaps even get you some extra medicine.”

The stallion sighed. He’d clearly dealt with Six before and quickly changed the subject. “What about that thing though?” he asked. “What do you think it’s worth? A weeks supply? Two maybe?”

“Balls!” Six snorted, “A month at least! ‘A week’ for Lode’s sake!” The mare shook her head. “Anyway, what are you doing down here? Your crew aren’t scavving until tomorrow if I remember right, and I guess you didn’t come all the way here just to pass the time of day.”

“Oh, right.” Fourteen rolled his shoulders. “Yeah, it’s Tru- I mean, Eighteen. He went missing from the village this morning. The elders think he’s turned runner, but Twenty Four said he heard him saying he was going to come and give you a hoof.” He shrugged, “You know he has a thing for you.”

“Hmph!” Six snorted loudly, “Yeah, like I’m into cradle snatching!” She shook her head, “Nah, I spoke to him this morning and said he could come and give me a hoof if he had permission from Ninety Nine. Actually I thought you were him, sneaking up on me like that.”

“Hardly,” Fourteen replied drily. “Damn… So if he isn’t with you, then...”

“Guess it’s the Seekers then.” Six shook her head sadly, “Poor kid. Look, he’s probably just skived off somewhere or got lost. If they find him, put a good word in for him will you?”

Six grimaced, “I’ll do what I can, but you know what happened to-”

“Yeah, I do.” Fourteen fixed him with a look, “I don’t want to think about it, so if you don’t mind, you’re in my patch?”

“Oh!” Fourteen gave himself a shake. “My apologies.” He let out a loud sigh, “If he turns up, keep him with you, will you? It’d be easier to explain if he’s with a Finder than ambling around on his own.”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to worry about that.” Six pocketed her latest treasure and rolled her shoulders. Casting a backwards glance, she watched quietly as Fourteen slowly disappeared back up the track. She let out the breath she’d been holding in, “Oh, thank the Creator! Hey, you still there?”

A green horn appeared over the edge of the rock not six feet away. The sand covered visage of Lyra soon followed. “Believe it or not, yes, I am.” She didn’t look happy, nor did she feel it either. The mare strode over to Six, “Right then, ‘Six’, wasn’t it? I’d like some answers, missus, or more specifically I’d like to know where the hell I am and better still, how I can get back home!”

Six blinked, clearly warring with some internal struggle. Finally she stated, “I’m not saying anything else. So far as I’m concerned I don’t know you, I’ve never seen you before, and you were never here.”

“EH?!”

The yellow mare flicked her mane out of her eyes and walked around Lyra as if she were no more than another rock.

“Hey! For buck’s sake, don’t you just walk away from me like that!” Lyra turned to face the retreating mare. “Celestia’s arse, at least tell me how to get to Ponyville! HEY!” Lyra broke into a jog, catching her up.

“Look, just piss off, will you?” Six hissed. “I’ve got a job to do, and if the seekers are out looking for Eighteen they’ll be all over this area in the blink of an eye. They find you then they’ll likely net me in with you, then we’ll both be well and truly bucked.” She glanced up at the sky, “Go back to the forest, or the wrecks, or wherever the hell it is you tainted lot call home!” She barked out a laugh, “Ponyville!”

“What’s so funny about that?” Lyra asked, keeping pace with her. When she received no response she added, “Twilight Sparkle lives there, and she’s Celestia’s personal student. You’d have to have been living under a rock not to know about her and her pals.”

“Oh, Lode! You don’t give up, do you?” Fourteen growled low in her throat. “Heresy now, is it? The only gods we have here are the ones in the tower, tainted girl, so why don’t you do us both a favour and go hoof yourself in and maybe they’ll take mercy on you. Personally I doubt it,” she shrugged, “but that’s our lot in life. Lode, chapter three, verse four.” Six began to mutter under her breath, something about ‘Ours is not to reason why,’ or some such rubbish.

“Our lot?” Lyra echoed. She looked up, noticing that Six was quickly widening the gap between them. “Hey you, you’re really starting to get my goat, you know that?” Lyra called after her. “Luna’s ears, I’ve been blown up, thrown through some sodding archaic portal into only the goddesses know where, nearly eaten by a thing that was all teeth and attitude, only to be shoved muzzle first behind a rock and then told to ‘piss off’! Some bloody world this is when a girl can’t even get directions home!” The green mare stood tall, brushed the sand off her chest and nickered loudly. “Well, buck you, you stuck up bitch!” she snapped. “I hope a bloody timberwolf buggers you senseless and turns you into burgers. I suppose I’ll just have to find my own way home then, and I tell you now, when I get there I’ll be writing to the papers about you and your dimwit muppet mates with their stupid bastard bingo names!” She turned to walk away up the beach, raising her voice to heavens, “Eyes down for a full house! On it’s own, number SIX!”

And so that was Lyra’s introduction to the equine population of wherever ‘here’ was. She had no idea of which direction to go either. Like most ponies she knew the sun rose in the east and set in the west, but was home west or east or where she was right now? The beach seemed to run north to south, disappearing around some headland after a distance in both directions, forming a shallow bay of sorts. Six had wandered off to the north, and since Lyra had absolutely no intention of following that selfish creature, then south it was. One thing was for sure, she wasn’t going to put so much as a single hoof into that damned forest again! She would probably be seeing those teeth in her nightmares for years to come, not to mention the cries of that pig-like thing. Gods! It had sounded almost… A shiver ran down her spine and she stopped in her tracks. Slowly, Lyra turned to stare back up the beach to where Six had been. Hadn’t she thought she was somepony else? That stallion, Fourteen wasn’t it? He’d said a young lad had come after Six. Eighteen? Bloody hell, what was with these numbers?! And who was this ‘Lode’ she was droning on about? Lyra snorted, it wasn’t like even half of what that nut case had said made any sense, but then… the monster in the forest, the thing that it had leapt on… Was that… Had that been a pony? Suddenly a thought burst into her head. Parchment. Oh Celestia! Parchment! With all the horror of her ride through a portal, not to mention narrowly avoiding death and meeting religious fanatics, she’d completely forgotten about what had started all of this! What had happened to the useless sack of… Oh, no… Maybe it wasn’t Eighteen in the forest? Maybe… Maybe the hapless creature had been…

“You there! Halt!”

Lyra flinched at the voice, “Eh?” Was somepony shouting at her?

Another voice, louder this time, called, “STAY WHERE YOU ARE, TAINTED!”

Tainted? Lyra’s mind reeled. So far as she could see she was the only one on the beach, which meant… She looked up shielding her eyes, and sure enough, silhouetted by the intense sun, were two pegasi. They were just hovering there, staring at her. At least she thought they were, from this angle they just looked like black shapes. Surely they didn’t mean her though, right? ‘Tainted’? Sure she was a bit mucky after landing in the forest following her unexpected journey through the portal, but she didn’t small that bad. She sniffed her coat; definitely needed to have a wash off, especially as some of last nights consumables were still stuck to her. But… Hang on, hadn’t that weirdo Six called her that when she’d first bumped into her? Tainted girl? Stupid things, they were all absolutely nuts around here!

Something twanged like a badly tuned guitar string, immediately followed by a thump of something else impacting into the sand not two feet from her muzzle.

“The next one will end you, Tainted.”

Lyra froze. Just like it was in the forest when the beast had appeared, part of her wanted to break into a blind run, heading for the trees where the pegasi could not so easily follow. On the other hoof she was certainly no athlete, years of pounding the stage combined with too much alcohol, fast food and late nights had seen to that. Could she seriously outrun these two? Could she outrun a… Hey, that was an arrow! Realisation dawned as her brain picked up where her instincts left off. They’d shot an arrow at her! Good gods, these primitives were like something out of the bloody stone age! Fear warred with anger, her natural sense of self preservation temporarily halted whilst the indignant green unicorn glowered up at her attackers.

“What the hell are you dickheads playing at?!” Lyra shouted. “You could have somepony’s eye out with that! You two sod off right now or you’ll be sorry you messed around with this Ponyville filly.”

She was rewarded with another arrow, this time narrowly missing her neck, but so close shefelt the fletchings skim past her ear.

“Right you little shits, you’re going to get it now.” Grumbling under her breath, Lyra glared up at her antagonists, her horn glowing with a golden aura of power. It wasn’t much of a shield, in fact she’d only learned it after some drunken fool in the audience had thrown a bottle at the stage some years ago. Another artist had shown her how they worked, but whether it was effective against an arrow she wasn’t so sure. She was about to find out however.

“She’s using magic!” the first pegasi shrieked in what sounded like near hysteria, his voice cracking to such a degree it almost made Lyra chuckle. “SHOOT HER! PUT HER DOWN OR THE MAESTER WILL HAVE OUR HIDES!”

That did it. Another arrowed whistled down, ricocheting off the shield effortlessly. Lyra felt quite proud of that, although what they did next didn’t bode too well.

“Swords! Move in close. Take the bitch from both sides!”

“Uh, oh…” Although by no means a push over, Lyra was certainly no fighter. In fact the forest was starting to look like a distinctly viable option right now, monsters or no monsters. Thingshere were moving way faster, and far more deadly, than she’d ever experienced in her lifetime. What was worse was that these guys really meant it too. “Get back!” Lyra snapped. “Get back or I’ll turn you inside out, you flying ratbags!” Of course she had no idea preciselyhow she could manage that intriguing proposal, in fact the most she’d ever managed to turn something ‘inside out’ was her washing, but these clowns didn’t need to know that. Whether they believed her or not may make the difference between life and death in this madhouse. For one of the pegasi, the nearest to her who had just landed, it seemed a very real possibility. By their expressions they had little to no experience of magic and fear was making them hesitate. It was time, she decided, to give them a little taste of it.

The two pegasi stood in front of her, lengths of glistening steel held in the mouths. They wore what looked like flight jackets at first glance, not that dissimilar to the ones Lyra had seen worn by pegasi back home during aerial displays. What was different about these guys was that their jackets looked as if they were made of furs. Very fine furs, but fur nonetheless. If she wasn’t sure she was far from home before, she sure as hell did now. No equestrian would ever wear anything so vulgar. The two had close cropped manes and tails too, with what appeared to be war paint, red and white stripes to be precise, under each eye.

Lyra took stock of her location. The sea was on one side, the forest on the other. Behind her was a long stretch of open sand, and before her the two pegasi. Uncertainty of what the green unicorn could do to them warred within the two be-winged ponies. Should they rush her? They’d heard stories of what the tainted could do to a pony with that evil power. Who hadn’t? The village soothsayer and storytellers had warned them time and time again, but to see one now, and fully grown at that, was a different matter. The masters though… They had no choice. They couldn’t flee, or else… or else…

“Twenty?” the younger one asked.

Twenty swallowed, nodding to himself as he tightened the grip on his sword. “Be brave, brother. Evil has to be vanquished no matter what the cost. They will sing songs of- ARGH!!!”

“TWENTY!”

Chaos broke out on the beach together with a scream of outraged fright. In a gust of sand the elder of the two stallions leaped into the air, his eyes bulging. From under his tail a strangely formed glowing construction, one Lyra had put together from the drawings made in Hidden Path’s book, made its sudden appearance well and truly felt. The green unicorn mare grinned wickedly as the pegasi howled in pain, struggling to get away from the magic’s grip. But Lyra wasn’t finished with him yet. Not by a long shot. Quick as a flash she snatched the pegasi’s bow, yanked him up into the air by the most tender part of his anatomy, and began to thrash his backside raw. Each stinging whallop of the wooden shaft across his buttocks elicited a gutteral howl, and with each outraged shriek the younger pegasus turned ever paler.

A pair of yellow eyes bored into him. “YOU WANT SOME TOO?” Lyra lowered her head, her horn pointing right at him. “Do you buckers know what a eunuch is? All I need to do, just one more little twist, and I’ll tear them off and make you eat them!”

“No!” The younger stallion shook his head desperately, “Please! Let him go, we’ll not say anything, I promise! We’ll… We’ll leave you alone!”

“Don’t be a fool!” Twenty shouted down at his comrade, “We can’t! Kill the- OH LODE! NOOOOO!”

A yellow glowing digit extended, thrusting down into a dark place where no magic should ever shine. “Had enough yet?” Lyra said coldly, “Or would you like me to show you… what comes next?”

It was enough. The younger stallion turned tail and ran, launching up into the air a moment later. Lyra watched him go. “Just you and me now, boyo.” The green mare moved closer, her muzzle moving up to the inverted pegasi’s own until they were nose to nose. “You know, I’d recommend you keep still If I were you,” she grinned. “Too much movement could throw me off my game, and if that happens, well… who knows? They could come right off in my hand.” Lyra chuckled, she’d always wanted to say that!

The stallion went still, sweat pouring down his muzzle and dripping onto the sand. “What… What do you want?” he breathed.

“Quite simple really,” Lyra explained quietly. “I want to know where I am, and which way is Ponyville?”

“P- Ponyville?” The stallion swallowed, “I’ve never heard of such a place. Ah- OOOOH!”

Lyra couldn’t help but grin at that sound. She gave him a shake, but not too hard. “I’ll ask you again. Where is-”

“I don’t know!” Twenty squeezed his eyes shut, dreading another… another one of those! “I’ve never heard of Ponyville! I only know of the village and the citadel, that’s all! Please, I’m telling the truth!”

The village or the citadel, eh? “And what’s the name of this ‘Citadel’, then? Hmm?” She gave him a shake for good measure.

“It… It’s just called the Citadel!” came the strangled reply. “It’s the home of the gods, our masters.”

“Your ‘masters’, eh?” Lyra shook her head in amazement. “I thought there was some kind of ‘S and M’ thing going on here.” There was one more thing she wanted to ask him, “Have you seen another pony here? Unicorn stallion, purple coat, black tail and mane, blue eyes, goes by the name of Parchment?”

“Who-?” The stallion froze, staring at Lyra’s horn. “There… There was another. He appeared some time ago. He was taken to the citadel where all the other tainted are taken.”

Oh, thank Celestia he was alive! “What do you mean, Tainted?” Lyra frowned, “And what the hell have you got against unicorns anyway?”

“Unicorns are tainted by the foul one’s magic!” the stallion shouted. “You’re all freaks of nature! Monsters!”

“What a crock of shit!” Lyra yelled back, “Equestria has ponies of all stripes in it. Celestia and Luna-”

It was all too much for the pegasus. Something snapped inside him and he took a deep breath before screaming, “HERESY! You foul, loathsome, HERETIC!” With that one word and a great sweep of his wings he broke through Lyra’s magical grip and threw himself on her in a fury of lashing hooves. “Die, spawn of darkness!”

Wild eyes stared with unmitigated hate into Lyra’s as he struck. In the blink of an eye the stallion had the shocked mare pinned down into the sand, his forehoof lashing out with snake like speed, knocking her head back with a sickening thump. Winded and taken by surprise, as much as Lyra struggled to free herself she couldn’t budge him even an inch. Fear snaked its insidious way into her heart as her magic faltered in the absence of concentration. He had her. He had her and there was nothing she could do to stop him. She saw him reach for a dagger, the blade raised into the air above her. Gods, what a way to go… Lyra’s eyes followed its arc. The way the metal caught the sunlight along its keen edge was quite beautiful in its own way. She just wished she’d been able to save the lad she’d come here to find. And what about Bon Bon? Her best friend would be worried sick about. She wouldn’t have a clue where she’d gone, whether she was alive or dead, and-

All of a sudden there was a blur of black, mottled fur. The weight was gone. The pegasus was gone. There was a scream – a terrified, blood curdling scream. Panting for breath, Lyra blinked at the bright blue sky… and the oddly familiar face looking down at her.

“What are you waiting for, you idiot? GET UP!”

Lyra coughed sand out of her mouth, “What? Wha-?”

“Just run, stupid!” Six grabbed the befuddled Lyra, yanking her to her hooves with all the grace of a sack of potatoes. Shocked into inaction, Lyra went to turn her head towards the shrieks of pain, the snarling, the crimson shower of- “Don’t look at it!” Six snapped, slapping Lyra with a hoof. “Follow me and don’t stop running until I tell you to!” Lyra stared at her. “RUN YOU FOOL!”

Despite the heat, raw, primal fear gripped Lyra in its icy embrace, her mind reeling with everything that had happened and what was happening right at that very moment. Up until then she’d survived by not really concentrating, not even thinking, about what had happened to her since she’d been flung bodily into this nightmare world. If she had then she would have become a gibbering, helpless wreck. Now however, right when she needed to dump everything in her head and simply run… she froze.

“UNICORN!” Six called over her shoulder. “What’s wrong with you? Run! Come on, girl, move it!”

“I… I...” Lyra’s throat was dry, her legs as heavy as lead weights. “Gods, come on, come on!” she hissed to her unmoving hooves. Slowly, as if dragging through thick molasses, one of them hauled itself painfully forward. Come on, COME ON!She was going to die. That thing, that monster, would be on her and all she could do, all she was capable of doing, was standing there waiting helplessly to be torn apart. “Bastard, bucking well move, you stupid bucking things!” Another moved. Slowly. Lyra cursed her lineage, that herd mentality, those blasted prey animal instincts that should be working right now and propelled her into a gallop. Instead she was here, moving like… A howl cut through her like a knife. Whatever it signified, whether the beast had taken its fill or was now advancing on her, the effect was instantaneous. Something snapped. Magic flowed, her hind legs digging into the sand, finding purchase, and then… then like a djinn from a bottle, Lyra broke into a full on charge.

She never knew why she did it.

Was it simply adrenalin, or blind stupidity?

Whatever it was, the creature tearing into the mangled pegasus was picked up and slammed into the ground by a glowing ball of yellow magic. Hooves followed. Lyra kicked out wildly, her mind a complete blank as she bucked the beast full in the face. Something soft gave, a sound of bone cracking and the monster ducked away, shying from her, scrambling back towards the safety of the darkness and shadows from whence it had come. She didn’t have time to get a good look at it, but what she saw was enough.

And what it had done.

The stallion, the pegasus who had tried to kill her only seconds earlier, stared up at her now with lifeless eyes.

Lyra barely noticed the sound of hooves approaching. All she could see were the huge rents in the poor creatures coat, how its wings had been reduced to-

“Oh, Lode, what a mess...”

Lyra turned incredulously to stare at Six. “A mess...” she managed past her dry lips. “A mess?”

Six dipped her head as she caught her breath. “Listen, I don’t know who you are or… or what you are, but if you don’t follow me now his friends will be back and when they see him they’ll think you’ve done it.” She frowned, “or me for that matter.” Six closed her eyes, “I’m not going to say this again, so if you’re done follow me or stay here and wait for the others. It’s your choice.”

Lyra stared at her, then down at the body. “He… He could be… I was just talking to him.”

“He was trying to kill you, you idiot!” Six spat. “The Chock saved your life, maybe in a roundabout way before you kicked its head in, but...” She sighed, “Listen, you’re in shock, I know what it looks like and you’re definitely there right now. So, since I’m not a doctor or a healer, then all I can do is offer you safety. At least until the heat dies down, understand?”

“But… He could be-”

“He’s dead, dummy!” Six shouted, bopping Lyra on the head. “Haven’t you seen a dead pony before? Get a grip girl, and shift those legs!”

Lyra shifted her legs. The earlier fear had gone, replaced by a strange calm and empty headedness that left her able to act without the inconvenience of any actual thought getting in the way. She did as she was told and ran, running as fast as she could after the surprisingly swift Six who in turn made her way into the edge of the surf before heading back along the beach.

“We’ll use the damp sand to mask our trail,” Six called out. “As far as anypony knows you’ve been dragged off by the Chock for dinner.”

Lyra didn’t reply.

Zeks. Lode. Chock. Citadel. Tainted. What did any of it mean? Did it mean anything at all? As much as she tried to ignore it, the image of that torn body kept intruding into her mind. She’d never seen a dead pony before. The most she’d ever seen of death was a sparrow which her neighbour’s cat had left on the door mat. It had turned her stomach at the time, but had also seemed… ‘clean’ somehow. The bird wasn’t covered in gashes and rents with guts and blood pouring out everywhere and staining the sand. It was just… dead. It’s eyes were shut, the little body still and silent. It didn’t stare at her with dead, accusing eyes that were glazed over with the haze of death. She hadn’t heard it screaming in pain, writhing as the beast tore and…

“What the-? Hey, don’t stop now we’re nearly… Oh.” Six stopped, turning to watch Lyra throwing up into the surf. She walked up to her, giving her neck a gentle nuzzle, “Come on now, run it off. We’re nearly safe.”

“S- Safe?” Lyra gasped. Wiping her mouth on her foreleg she picked up the pace once more, half picturing an image of that vile beast charging after her. Despite the cramping pains in her stomach she was quickly back to a full gallop. “Where’s safe here?”

In answer Six nodded her head, indicating something gleaming on the headland. “There,” she called. “Whatever you do, stick to the path I take. Don’t wander off, don’t ignore me and think you know a better way, and do exactly as I tell you. Do you understand me?”

Lyra nodded. Her throat was burning uncomfortably from the acidic bile but she didn’t dare waste another second to stop and take a drink. As much as she tried to ignore it she was horribly thirsty, tired, and teetering on the verge of mental as well as physical exhaustion. “Yes,” she croaked. Lyra doubted Six had heard her, but then she had no intention of doing anything but follow the directions of the strange mare to the letter. At least until they were as far away from that gore soaked sand as equinely possible. After all, what else could she do? Where else was there to go? She had no provisions, no idea where in the hell she was, or how to avoid being eaten alive by the apparent swarm of ravenous monsters that inhabited this awful place. Initially she’d believed the thing that had killed the pig, or… or whatever it was back in the forest, to be confined therein. Oh, how naive she was! After what had happened to that pegasus it only served to show her how pathetically clueless she was as to how to survive here. Walking along the beach alone, pegasi notwithstanding, that thing, or one of its kind, would probably have jumped her sooner or later. Now, running for all she was worth along the sand, she could feel eyes boring into her – eyes from the forest, and from the sky. Imaginary or not, the mere possibility of it added a fleetness of foot to her race across the virgin sand.

The salt air was refreshing it had to be said. Lyra had never seen much of the sea despite having travelled to the coast many times as a youngster. She’d been once, several years ago, with Bon Bon on a weekend trip. A trip, she recalled, that had taken far too long. They’d gone by train, and Bonnie had been travel sick. In regards to which she wondered whether it was related to the latest sickness she’d been suffering from. She seemed okay in herself, well, if you discounted the shortness of temper and moodiness of course, but that was life. Wasn’t it? Moodiness, temper flare up and sickness… Where had she read about that? She-

“OKAY,” Six shouted. “Okay...” She was slowing down, allowing Lyra to come alongside. “Good spirits, I haven’t… I haven’t run like that in ages.” She glanced over her shoulder, “Not much further now.” She let out a loud snort, “Right, here’s where it gets tricky. Remember what I told you. No matter what you want look at or if you see something that’s really interesting, just ignore it and follow my lead.”

“Why?” Lyra asked, curiosity peaking its head through the haze of fatigue once more. “Are there more monsters there?”

Six shook her head, “No, or at least not ones that pose a danger particularly.” She fixed Lyra with a look. “The wrecks are a strange place, full of… full of weird stuff which can lead you into a maze you may not be able to find your way out of. Right now I don’t have time to go hunting for lost fillies, so stick to my arse like glue, understand?”

“Received and understood, Ma’am,” Lyra replied.

Six gave her an odd look, suggesting she was no fan of sarcasm, “Just so long as you do… smartarse.”

“I wasn’t trying to-” Lyra stopped mid-sentence as Six increased her pace again. “Ah, sod it,” she mumbled. “What’s the bloody point.”

Six kept running, and Lyra followed hot on her heels. They’d long since passed the point where Lyra had first met the strange mare, the two of them racing full pelt along the wide ribbon of golden sand and hugging the rocks which slowly but surely began to form an ever increasingly tall wall of light grey stone. They leaped over a rivulet, splashing through the surprisingly chilly water, their hooves kicking up clods of wet sand as they went. The seawater was nearer to the cliffs here and there, the irregular landforms looking increasingly as if… Lyra stared, her eyes widening as what she had at first believed to be natural rock formations turned out to be anything but.

“Oh. Oh, Celestia…!” Lyra’s mouth hung agape, her heart pounding in her chest no longer simply as a result of her exertions. “My goddesses!” They were… Well… They were ships, weren’t they? But what ships! These were unlike any ocean going vessel she’d ever seen before, and she’d visited ports the length and breadth of Equestria. Everywhere she looked, great masses of steel sat silently resting upon the sand with the ever present waves lapping at their sterns as though slowly attempting to devour them, dragging them back into the depths. There were wooden ships amongst the metal giants too, many of them green with algae, their hulls thick with barnacles and seaweed which flowing about their hosts like long, green hair. Their sails, most of which had long since rotted away, hung in rags, draped about with rotting skeins of mouldy rigging. Some of the vessels were clearly far newer, wrought from great sheets of riveted steel or iron, painted black, grey, blue and white. There were colourful pennants hanging from some, faded from the sun and sea, but there too – flags! There were none that Lyra recognised, but amongst those tattered and faded pieces of cloth were clearly emblems that had once meant something to somepony. And there up above! There were… there was… writing? Yes! The names of the ships, or at least she thought they were. They were hard to make out, and not in any language that she was all that familiar with. They weren’t all the same either. It looked like-

“Whoop!” Lyra’s hoof caught on something and she nearly tripped. Six had grabbed her just in time to stop her plummeting muzzle first into the wave swept chasm no more than a few feet in front of her.

“I told you to follow me, didn’t I?” Six chided angrily. “I can’t keep stopping to make sure you’re still there. One false step out here and gchk!” She made a cutting motion across her throat. “The next time you blunder into something I might not be in time to stop you, so get a grip!”

Lyra nodded, swallowing hard. Six wasn’t exaggerating either. That had been a close call alright. A few more steps and she would barely have had time to see her life flash before her eyes before ending up as a smear on the rocks far below. Carefully she moved to one side, navigating her way onto the rope bridge strung between the wrecks. Six trotted across first, clearly used to the disturbing way the contraption bucked and swayed with every step. By comparison Lyra’s heart leaped, the fear she had felt earlier creeping back to the forefront of her mind as she started to-

“Don’t look down!”

Lyra froze, her head snapping up.

“Keep looking ahead of you,” Six called. “It’s easy, just look at where you want to go and keep going in a straight line. We’re nearly at my camp now. It’s just a little further.”

Her camp? Lyra felt hope flicker within her. She was exhausted, and her frayed nerves were already stretched to breaking point as it was. She took a breath, focussed on the end of the bridge, and pressed on. Keeping her eyes locked on Six, a few more tentative steps and the sound of rock under her hooves told her she was on the other side safe and sound. Oh, dear goddesses, she’d actually made it! But.. made it to where? Lyra looked around at the towering walls of rusting metal, the rocks, and… Where was Six? There was scuffling sound above her, followed by the clatter of wood knocking into metal.

“Come on up!” Six called, her face peering down at her. “Up here.”

Somehow the strange mare had managed to scale some kind of scaffolding made from metal pipes and wooden planks, the unlikely construction held together with rope. How in Equestria had she moved so fast?! Lyra had barely taken her eyes off her for a split second, yet Six had managed to climb up that high? That was no mean feat for a normal earth pony, although Lyra doubted Six was far from your common or garden variety equine, and that was putting it mildly. As if in answer to her unspoken question, Six pointed to a ladder hanging beside one of the supports, one which looked almost as bad as the rope bridge but mercifully one that didn’t come with a plummeting fall to certain death this time. In any case, since Lyra had come this far already she’d be damned if she’d give up now. And so, with a lot of huffing and panting, she clambered up to join Six at the top.

“Give me a hoof here, will you?” Not waiting on ceremony, Six motioned to a heavy metal sheet that lay against a hole in the hull of one of the enormous ships. Numbly, Lyra complied, gripping it in her magic.

Six didn’t really need to help haul the covering as Lyra’s telekinesis was more than capable of shifting several times her own weight. In truth she seemed more interested in seeing unicorn magic at work and watched it with fascinated, if somewhat wary, eyes. With a loud grating sound, the metal moved, allowing access into the darkness beyond. Six wasted no time in trotting inside and motioned for Lyra to do the same. The metal sheet was slid back into place behind them. And there, in the darkness, Lyra Heartstrings finally collapsed onto her rump, leaning against the cold steel… and breathed.

“Bonnie? What’s going on? Is everything-”

“Yes, yes, it’s fine, Lyra.”

“Well it’s obviously not now, is it? Otherwise I wouldn’t find it necessary to keep asking you every five minutes.”

“Oh goddesses, not this again...”

“Yes, this again! You’re working all the hours Luna sends and then you’re hardly in bed five minutes before you’re running for the bathroom chucking your guts up! You can’t keep this up, Bonnie. Something’s wrong. This isn’t normal.”

“I said, I’m fine! Gods above, don’t keep going on about it all the time.”

“I don’t go on about it ‘all the time’, Bonnie! And in any case, if that was me in there throwing up every morning wouldn’t you be concerned? Or do you care so little about me you’d simply wave it off and pretend everything’s hunky dory?”

“NO! I mean… Oh, goddesses, yes, Lyra, of course I’d be concerned, but I keep telling you I’m okay.”

“Bonnie, look, you’re my best friend, you’re like a sister to me. We’ve been through some serious crap over the years and now I’m asking you, no, begging you, to go and get yourself looked at. Please, it’s frightening me!”

“Tch! Good grief, you don’t need to ‘beg me’, Lyra. That’s just being stupid.”

“Is it? Is it really? So you think a friend would just write it off as ‘one of those things’, eh? That a friend would say, ‘Throwing up every morning? Hey, not a problem! Everypony does it, right? You know, get up in the morning, puke up in the toilet, and then off to work as fresh as a daisy. What a great way to start the day.”

“Oh, don’t be so flippant!”

“And don’t you be so dismissive!”

“LOOK! I’m sick of this shit every day, Lyra! What’s it going to take for you to get off my back about it, huh? It’s driving me up the damned wall!”

“Simple. You make an appointment to see the doctor, get yourself looked at, and then tell me what they say. If it’s just a tummy bug then we can get you sorted out in no time. If it’s anything more serious then at least you’ll have access to professional help instead of buying tonnes of antacids and stomach medicine from the bloody pharmacy. And don’t say anything, I’ve seen all the empty packets in the bin. So, no putting more it off, and no more excuses!”

“I’m not making excuses.”

“Like bollocks you aren’t! Do you remember what happened to my aunt, Bon Bon? She had that problem peeing, yeah? Kept putting it off because she ‘didn’t want to be a bother’ to anypony, and every time you mentioned it you were ‘causing a fuss about nothing?’ Do you remember what happened to her?”

“The tumour.”

“Yes, the tumour. The hospital told us that if they’d seen her sooner they could have done something. But no, no she had to be her usual stubborn self and put it off until it was too late to have the surgery that could have saved her life. Now she’s dead, and I’ll be damned if I see another member of my family die because of casual bloody-mindedness!”

“Ugh! I’m not going to die, Lyra.”

“Aren’t you? Because from where I’m standing I don’t know, Bonnie. I’m not a doctor, and unless you’re hiding something from me, then neither are you. So please, get yourself booked in and we’ll get this whole business put to bed, yeah?”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I really will ‘go on about it all the time’ until you do.”

“Oh, Celestia give me strength…. Fine then, I’ll book an appointment in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“Not that I really need to, but yes, yes I promise.”

“Thank you. I’m glad to see common sense can prevail… on occasion.”

“Humph!”

The smell of herbs tickled Lyra’s nose enticingly. The dream, or whatever it had been, gradually fading away with her wakefulness. She blinked, looking up into the eyes of Six.

“You okay now?” the yellow mare asked.

“Hmm?” Lyra groaned, reaching behind to rub her back. She was surprised to find a pillow there. That was thoughtful of her. A cup of what Lyra presumed was herbal tea, was passed to her as well. She took it gratefully in her magic.

“You looked all in,” Six explained. She jerked a hoof towards the entrance, “You collapsed right by the door so I tucked you in to let you have a rest. By the looks of things, you needed it.”

Lyra looked down at the blanket that had slipped from her as she’d sat up. “Thank you...”

“You should be thankful too,” the yellow coated mare said plainly. “You’ve put me in a hell of a bind, girl. You and that bloody horn of yours.”

Instinctively Lyra reached up to touch it. “What’s...” She groaned, “You know, I’m not sure I even want to ask anymore.” Six raised an eyebrow and turned away to potter about with something on a wooden workbench. It was one of the few organic items in the room. The rest of it was metal, dark and shadowy in the gloomy light filtering through several dirty portholes. “So, you want to start with the questioning or shall I?” Lyra offered.

“Why would I want to question you?” Six asked quietly.

“Because you obviously rescued me on the beach for a reason.” Lyra blew on her tea to cool it down, but kept a wary eye on her host. It was true that Six did intrigue her, but she was still aching from all the running, not to mention the magical expenditure. “I saw the look on your face,” Lyra continued. “You were quite happy to leave me there to your pegasus pals while you went off on your merry way. Hell, you could have left me to the tender mercies of that huge wolf thing to finish me off too.” Lyra took a tentative sniff at the tea, then put it down. “But you didn’t. And that begs the question – why?” Six paused, glancing over at her but said nothing. “You see, the way I look at it is this: You could be hoping that your flying buddies come back with reinforcements, comb the beach, and assume I’ve been dragged off or eaten by our furry friend. Or else...” She took a breath, feeling around herself for something she could lift. “Or else there’s something in it for you if you hoof me in. A reward maybe? Recognition for surrendering, what was it now, a ‘tainted’ pony? Oh yes, and a ‘heretic’ apparently, let’s not forget that little gem.”

The atmosphere in the room seemed to drop several degrees. It was cold enough in there as it was in the shadow of the cliffs, but what made it worse was the long pause which hung in the air between the two mares. Six pushed up the goggles she was wearing up onto her head and brushed some of her orange mane out of her eyes. With a flip of a switch a light came on in front of her. “There are no rewards for surrendering the tainted,” she said, her voice surprisingly soft compared to her earlier brusque manner. “I had thought you’d know that. But...”

“But what?”

“But now I don’t think you would somehow.” Six lifted something from the desk, turned it over in her hoof, and put it down again. Whatever it was ‘clicked’ with a sharp metallic sound, “It was something you said, or rather, the things you said.” She opened a drawer and took out a small cardboard box. “You’re not from around here, are you.”

“Well obviously!” Lyra’s hoof caught on something long, cylindrical, and decidedly heavy. She’d keep that in her metaphorical pocket for later in case things got… well, let’s just say she knew where it was if she needed to defend herself for any particular reason. All she’d need to do would be to snatch it up in her magic, bring it round in an arc, and-

“So if you’re not from the village, then that means you’re from the citadel,” Six reasoned. With surprising speed she opened the box, flipped some small shiny objects into the item she had on the workbench, and in a few seconds had the whole thing attached to her foreleg and hoof. Lyra didn’t know what it was, but the tube shaped protuberance was suddenly pointing right at her. “Do you know what this is?”

Lyra couldn’t take her eyes away from it. “No. But I’m guessing I’m not going to like the answer, am I?”

Six raised an eyebrow, “That all depends on what you say next.”

Lyra let out a chuckle, “Gods almighty, can this day get any worse?!” She stared at Six, her ire rising. “So let me get this straight; you abandon me, then save me. You make me comfortable, make me a cup of tea, then threaten me with… with whatever that thing is? Am I in the right ball park here?”

“If I knew what a ‘ball park’ was, then maybe,” Six replied coldly. “Let me make myself perfectly clear here, whatever your name is-”

“Lyra,” Lyra said, lifting her muzzle. “Lyra Heartstrings.”

“Number?”

“Num-” Lyra hesitated, “What, like, of my house?”

Six clucked her tongue, “No, you idiot! Your birth number!”

Lyra frowned, “I don’t have a ‘birth number’. Well, not unless you’re talking about my social security number, but who the hell remembers that? I mean, I think I’ve got a card with it on at home, but it wouldn’t do you any good if you’re-”

“For Lode’s sake, shut up!” Six glared at her. “You’re telling me you weren’t given a number at birth, yes?”

“Pretty much,” Lyra said calmly. “Nopony is where I’m from.”

“And where did you say you were from again?”

“Um, Ponyville?”

“And where is this ‘Ponyville’ exactly? One of the islands? Or one of the citadel sectors maybe?”

“It’s in Equestria,” Lyra replied wearily. She couldn’t help keep the sarcasm from her voice as she added, “Big place, run by a couple of tall scary alicorns? They’ve got the whole palace thing going on with royal guards and the like. You can’t miss it.”

“Can’t you?” Six didn’t seem to see the funny side. “And I suppose you don’t know where you are right now then, right?”

“Haven’t got a clue,” Lyra said honestly. She shrugged her shoulders for emphasis.

“So you just happen to appear out of the forest, right when Eighteen disappears, claim to be from ‘Equestria’, and you’re a unicorn?” Six’s expression hardened, “You seriously expect me to believe all that?”

Lyra felt her grip on the metal tube tighten. She didn’t like the way this was going at all! “I don’t give a toss what you-”

There was a bright flash followed almost instantly by a deafeningly loud CRACK! Lyra ducked on instinct, squeezing her eyes shut and let out a shriek of fright. Stars burst in her vision, even with her eyes tightly closed. Her ears screamed with a high pitched whine that was far worse than any Saturday night gig she’d ever been to, and she’d been to some real ‘roof raisers’ too. A few seconds later she tentatively opened one eye. Six was still there, watching her as she had been all along, only this time with smoke rising from the end of that thing on her foreleg.

“I’d suggest you don’t lie to me again, ‘Lyra Heartstrings’. My aim is not quite as good as it could be, and the shadows in here play hell with my eyesight.”

“You-?!” Lyra swallowed, “Celestia’s arse! You’re a bucking lunatic! I thought you were going to help me, and you nearly...” Her eyes moved to the small hole behind her. Whatever it was, that thing had put a hole mere inches from her head. “You nearly killed me!”

“Better you than me,” Six said simply.

“What do you want from me!” Lyra gasped. “For Luna’s sake, I don’t want this, I just want to go home!”

“To Ponyville?” Six sneered. “Yes, you already said.”

“YES!” Lyra heard a click, her eyes locking onto the cylindrical shape before her. “Please, Six, I don’t know what’s going on or what you want, I just-”

“How did you get here?” The yellow mare asked suddenly.

“-to get…” Lyra hesitated again, her mouth had gone horribly dry all of a sudden. “How? I… Through… Through the portal. The portal in the forest.”

Abruptly, Six put her hoof down and leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. Lyra noticed the mare’s ears prick up. Now she really had her attention. “What portal?” she asked.

This could be the defusing element of the situation Lyra had been hoping for. There was no point lying about it, so honesty, she hoped anyway, would be the best policy if she wanted to get out of this in one piece. “I’m an archaeologist,” Lyra began. “We were working on a dig site and one of the volunteers accidentally activated some kind of ancient portal we’d uncovered. He went missing that evening, we believe through that very same portal.”

“And you came looking for him, did you?” Six asked.

“Well, not exactly,” Lyra huffed, scratching her head. “They blew it up just as I fell backwards into it. The next thing I knew I was face first in the middle of a forest and that thing, that ‘Chock’ I think you called it? It appeared out of nowhere and nearly had me for dinner. If it hadn’t gone for that pig I wouldn’t be here talking to you now. While it was distracted I slipped away to look for a way out and that’s when I met you. The rest you know.”

“Yes… Yes, I’m sure I do.” Six stayed where she was, staring at her, and then suddenly let out a pent up breath as she sat back in her chair. “What colour was this ‘pig’ you saw?”

“The pig?” Lyra blinked in surprise at the question. “Um, I’m not sure, a dark chocolate brown maybe? It was quite a size, and…” The look on Six’s face confirmed her fears. “It wasn’t a pig was it. It was-”

“Eighteen,” Six finished for her. The mare leaned her head back and let out a loud groan. “Oh, that stupid kid… If I’d told him once I’d told him a dozen times not to take that damned shortcut, but he always liked to break the rules. He liked to go and stare at that old portal too. There’s a reason why we avoid the place.”

“I’m not surprised if that ‘Chock’ thing lives in there,” Lyra nickered. “How the hell can you survive in this place with four legged murder machines lurking in the trees like that?”

“Because they rarely come anywhere near our settlements,” Six said flatly. She lifted her foreleg with the device attached to it, “and because we kill them if we do.”

Lyra looked at the hole next to her head again and winced. “Well at least Parchment didn’t end up in that thing,” she said with a hint of relief in her voice.

“How do you know he didn’t?” Six asked. “Magic tell you that, did it?”

Lyra snorted, “Hardly. One of those pegasus nutters told me he’d been found and taken to that citadel thing of yours.”

“There was another one of you?!” Six jumped out of her chair making Lyra push back into the pillow. “Another tainted?”

There was that bloody word again! Lyra could feel her teeth grinding, her anger rising as she said, “He’s not ‘tainted’, and neither am I. He just so happens to be a unicorn too, just as you happen to be an earth pony and some happen to be pegasi. All of us have equal value.”

Six’s mouth opened and closed, her eyes becoming uncharacteristically distant. She looked deflated, and her ears drooped as she turned away. “Not here we don’t.”

“Eh?” Lyra slowly got to her hooves, brushing off the dust from her coat. “Of course we do, it’s just-”

“You don’t understand,” Six interrupted. “Unicorns, or ‘tainted’ as they’re called here, are considered spawn of the dark one. If any are born into this world they’re given to the zeks lest they contaminate the rest of us. It’s a legacy from the first days.”

“First days?”

Six nodded, “Some believe our people came through the portal from another land, to settle this one and to work as servants of our masters, the zeks. Others say the zeks created us, caring for us as we care for them.”

“Who are these ‘zeks’,” Lyra asked.

Six froze, her hoof twitching as she lifted her foreleg. Lyra’s blood ran cold, but the yellow mare merely climbed back onto her stool. “You can drink the tea,” she said simply, “it’s not poisoned.”

“I didn’t think it was,” Lyra lied.

“Ha! I’m sure you didn’t.” Six rolled her shoulders, her ear twitching as if she’d heard something coming from the darkened doorway behind her.

Lyra blinked, alarm gripping her, “Something there?”

“No.” Six turned back to face her, took up her own cup of tea and took a sip. “I think you’d better tell me your story, Lyra Heartstrings” she said. “From the beginning.”

Chapter Four - Navigational errors

“And that’s the whole story, is it? You haven’t left anything out?”

“Nope, that’s the whole kit and caboodle,” Lyra nodded. She stared into her empty cup and sighed. How long had she been sat here now? Gods, her backside was killing her! She shifted round to a more comfortable position, noting how the dim light through the porthole was decidedly darker than it had been at the beginning of her tale. The unfamiliar light above them worked well enough though, and she was grateful enough for that. “I’m a musician not a story teller, Six. If you have any more questions I’d be happy to answer them if I can.”

Six glanced back at the doorway again, her shoulders slumped, “I see.”

“Huh?” Was there somepony back there? She couldn’t hear anything, but the last thing she wanted to do was antagonise the strange mare. If she lived out here amongst these wrecks all alone it wouldn’t surprise her if she had imaginary friends or, more worryingly, was hearing voices. If so then she may just have to make a run for it when she got the first opportunity. But where would she go? She had no idea where she was, let alone which way was home. No. Whether she liked it or not, right now Six was the only chance she had of getting out of this mad house alive.

Unaware of Lyra’s concerns, Six looked at the floor, staring at her hooves. “I always thought it was a legend,” she said distantly, “a fanciful story that ponies could only dream of being real. But to hear about it… I can’t believe it.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Lyra announced.

Six slowly looked up at her, frowning, “What do you mean?”

Lyra waved her hooves indicating the room, “All of this!” she said expansively. “Hardly anything I’ve seen or heard since I arrived here has made any sense at all! I’m not an adventurer, Six, I’m just a poorly paid archaeologist and a musician - a musician without a bloody band I might add!” Her heart rate was increasing, her breathing coming in short pants as her emotions began to well up. “Now I’ve got monsters trying to eat me, ponies wanting to kill me and telling me I’m some sort of spawn of the devil or some such nonsense, and now we’re in some sort of ship which is clearly NOT equestrian. You don’t need to be a historian to see that much!” Tears finally broke through, rolling down her dusty cheeks. “Celestia help me, I don’t know what’s going on! I… I don’t belong here. I want to go home! I just… I just want to go home...”

Six sat on her stool in silence. She saw the tears. She heard the emotion in Lyra’s voice, and the genuinely heartfelt sentiments that this creature, this curious being from another world, was expressing. She stared at her hoof, at the weapon attached to it, then back to the sobbing ball of green fur. Her mind was made up. She removed the device and placed it back on the workbench. A voice behind her questioned her actions. “It’s alright,” she said quietly. “She’s not a danger.” Six nodded, “I know, but I think we can trust her.” Six took a deep breath and opened her treasure drawer, taking out one of the precious packages from inside. There weren’t many left now, but considering the circumstances it was a worthwhile price to pay. Hell, that story alone had been worth it. Equestria… It was real? If it was, if it truly was, then perhaps… perhaps the other stories were similarly true. Maybe the portal worked both ways? Maybe all they needed was here, right here in her cabin! A unicorn… A magical unicorn to activate the magic and send them home – their real home.

“Here.”

“Snnf… Huh?” Lyra wiped away a tear and sniffed loudly. “What is it?”

“Chocolate,” Six explained. “It always cheers me up when I’m upset. Make sure you take the wrapper off first.” She watched in fascination as Lyra’s magic glowed, forming into… hands? Six’s eyes went wide and she turned in amazement to face the door. She could almost hear the amazed intake of breath as the shadows moved. Six quickly turned back to face Lyra, noting how she examined the wrapper, and carefully, tentatively, took a bite.

“Oh… Oh, Luna that’s good….” Lyra’s eyes closed in confectionery based ecstasy. “So, so good!”

“Isn’t it though?” Six couldn’t help but chuckle. Had she been so enraptured the first time she’d had a taste? “Make it last, Lyra, there’s not many left.”

Lyra nodded, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the letters on the wrapper. “What language is this?”

Six shrugged, “One of the languages the zeks use.” She waved a hoof dismissively, “These vessels belong to them. Belonged rather. Mostly they’re just abandoned and left to the mercy of the sea.”

“These wrecks?” Lyra asked. “But there’s so many of them! And some of them must have been here for-”

“Hundreds of years?” Six finished for her. “At least.”

“And this is your home?” Lyra asked. “You actually live here?” She tried to keep the incredulity from her voice.

“I do,” Six confirmed with a nod. “But it’s also my job. I could have had a hut in the village, but I kinda like it here - scouring the wrecks for salvage. I take the best bits to the citadel of course, but there’s no rule against keeping a few odds and ends for myself.”

“Like the chocolate?” Lyra asked.

Six shrugged, “Like the chocolate.”

“And this ‘citadel’, where they took Parchment, that’s where these ‘zeks’ live, is it?”

Six nodded.

“I’ve never heard of them,” Lyra said honestly. “If I didn’t know better I’d say these were made by humans.” She took another bite of her chocolate, holding up the wrapper. “Crazy, huh!”

The yellow mare froze like a statue, her hoof halfway to the steaming teapot. “What… What did you say?”

“I said these ships look like they were made by humans.” Lyra shrugged, “I know ponies think it’s all make believe, but I still like to think there’s some truth in it. I mean, just look at this stuff. You’ve got switches and controls for things that were clearly never meant for equine use. It’s certainly not magically powered, and steam powered ships are a fairly newish innovation back home. These ships have been here for decades at least. Then there’s the writing. I’ve seen fragments of it before, but way, way older than this stuff.”

“Lyra...”

“Take these doors for example, they’re-”

“LYRA!”

Lyra stopped mid-sentence and looked up in alarm, “What?”

Six was staring right at her, “Don’t say that word.”

“Eh? What word? You mean ‘Human’?” Lyra had heard ponies laugh at her before when she’d said it, but Six… Six looked… scared?

The yellow mare’s eyes bored into hers, “That word is forbidden. To say it aloud, even to so much as whisper it, will bring disaster down upon our heads. Considering our current position that’s the last thing we need. Look, just… just whatever you do, don’t ever, ever, use it again.” She took a breath and closed her eyes, “Please, Lyra.”

“Um… Okay?” Lyra didn’t understand why, but the passionate plea in Six’s voice was enough to convince her. “Sure, I won’t say it,” she said assuredly. “But still, you do know it’s just a word, right? It’s not magic or anything. Believe me, I’d know!”

“Maybe to you it’s not magic,” Six said coldly. “To us, to our people here, it means death.”

Lyra’s eyes went wide, all humour vanishing from her like morning dew, “Death?!”

“Execution,” Six confirmed.

“Goddesses in their bloody heaven!” Lyra exclaimed. “You people murder ponies for mentioning the name of mythical creatures? That’s a pretty big margin for error there, girl!”

Six sighed, “You’re not from here, you wouldn’t understand.”

“What’s not to understand?” Lyra snorted. “You murder ponies for saying words somepony doesn’t like? How the hell can that be justified in anyponies book? Even the yaks don’t do shit like that and they’re as mad as a whole crate of frogs!”

Six stared down at her hoof, a habit Lyra had noticed when she was deep in thought about something, “You don’t have the death penalty in Equestria?”

“NO!” Lyra shook her head vigorously. “There’s not exactly much in the way of crime there at all, except maybe in the cities of course, but we have laws, courts, the watch, and all sorts of things like ‘due process’ and-”

“And the, what did you call them? The ‘C.B.I’?” Six interrupted.

“Well, um… sure,” Lyra felt a little off balance. “But they’re an exception. They only started showing up a few years ago, and only when really weird stuff was going on.”

“Like the portal you used to come through here.”

Lyra sniffed, “Huh! Don’t remind me!”

“They were willing to kill you to destroy it though, yes?” Six asked.

“Well, I… I suppose they thought I’d get out of the way.”

“And didn’t they threaten to shoot you?”

“I...” Lyra hung her head, “Yes… Yes, they did.”

Six smiled sadly, “I expected as much. Even the mythical land of Equestria, the lost land of peace, love and song, has a darker side to it.” She looked like a foal who’d just dropped their ice cream.

“It’s hardly the norm there,” Lyra retorted trying to sound reasonable in the defence of her homeland. “I’ve lived there my whole life and never seen anything like that. Oh, I’d heard of them of course, the C.B.I that is, everypony has really, but in all fairness I did kinda put myself in the firing line – metaphorically as well as physically.”

“Because you wanted to save your friend, right?” Six offered.

“Of course, but…” Lyra groaned, leaning her head back. “Look, Equestria’s not perfect, and there’s dickheads there aplenty as I’m sure there is here, but at least we can walk around without being threatened with murder for uttering some stupid word or torn apart by monsters.” Her mane bristled, “And we sure as hell don’t steal babies from their mothers to send them off to only Celestia knows where.”

“Celestia knows where...” Six murmured. She barked out a laugh but there wasn’t a single note of humour in it. “There’s no ‘Celestia’ to protect us here, Lyra,” she said quietly. “There’s no magical Princess Luna to watch over our dreams. There’s no Ponyville, no songs, no music…” She lifted her head and gave her a frightening look. “Whether we like it or not we serve the zeks, and here the zeks are our masters.” Her eyes caught the light making Lyra shiver, “You’re not in Equestria any more.”

The green mare swallowed. “What do they have over you,” she whispered. “Why would your ponies allow this to happen?”

“Why?” Six shrugged resignedly, “Because we let it. Because we were born into this world and it’s the only one we know. But mostly, it’s because of this.” She pulled open a drawer and lifted up a small phial of white liquid. She turned it slowly, allowing the light to reflect like stars twinkling in the night sky. “It’s medicine,” Six explained. “Without it you get the shakes. After that the fever sets in and you sweat yourself dry no matter how much you drink. Leave it and it tears your lungs apart from the inside out. There’s no cure, but the medicine will keep you fit and healthy for a month or so.” “Before you need more,” she added quietly.

Lyra’s eyes followed the movement of the phial, “And the zeks give you the medicine in return for your subservience?”

“If you want to look at that way, perhaps,” Six replied. “I find things in the wrecks and they pay me in medicine. The village work the fields, the food goes to the citadel, and they pay them for it in the same manner.”

“So it’s kinda like a business transaction?” Lyra suggested.

Six nodded, “It is.”

“So where does all this ‘tainted’ business come from then? Why the fear of magic and-”

“SHHH!” Six held up a hoof, shushing her.

Lyra’s ears pricked up, “What? What is it?”

“Shut up! There’s somepony there,” Six said quickly, jumping to her hooves. “She shoved some of the things from her desk into the drawer, then reached up and pulled something from a shelf. “Seekers, it has to be.”

“Oh, shit!” Those pegasi are- Hey!” Lyra flinched as Six rammed a large woollen hat over her head.

“Just belt up and keep that on,” Six said hurriedly. She paused, looking over her shoulder, “And no magic!”

“But-”

“No buts!” She cursed quietly under her breath, “I should have done this sooner!” Six put her hoof on the door as the sound of voices began to be heard outside. “Your name’s Lyra. Just Lyra, okay? You’re a-”

“A musician?” Lyra suggested.

Six looked horrified, “NO! A fishers daughter, come here from the archipelago to learn about finding.”

“Is that what you are?” Lyra asked, “A ‘Finder’?” She’d overheard the pony on the beach call her that.

“Yes,” Six confirmed with a nod. “Now just play along, and don’t say anything stupid!”

“That might not be so easy,” Lyra mumbled.

Suddenly Six rounded on her, shoving her up against the wall. “You listen to me, mare, and you listen good.” Her expression brooked no nonsense, “I’ve risked my life bringing you here. If you drop me in the shit because you say something dumb, I’ll claim ignorance and give you to them without hesitation. Am I making myself clear?”

“Crystal!” Lyra squeaked.

There was loud banging on the steel door, “Six? Open up, I know you’re in there.”

Six walked up, unhurriedly, and leaned her head against the rusting metal, “Who’s there?”

“Seventeen, of the Seekers. In the name of the Maester, I command you to open this door!”

Six groaned, “Sure, sure, there’s no need to so officious about it all, Seventeen.” She began to unchain the locks and haul on the enormous handle, “What’s happened now?”

“As if you didn’t know!” A stallion with a dark blue coat pushed past Six, all but barging her out of the way. His eyes narrowed, taking in everything in the gloomy steel room. “You alone here?”

“I always work alone,” Six said unhurriedly. She flicked her mane out of her eyes, watching the other two pegasi as they marched in after their leader. “Come on, come all.”

“Less of that, mare,” Seventeen snorted. “Your living here amongst our masters’ treasures is a privilege, and-”

“-not a right,” Six finished for him.

He glared at her for a moment before nodding, “And you would do well to remember it.” He pointed towards the light. “By rights that belongs to the masters. What are you doing using it?”

“Because I can’t see in the dark?” Six said with a hint of sarcasm. At the hard look she received she shook her head, “Look, we have dispensation to use what we come across to help us find for-”

Seventeen waved her away, “Yes, yes, I’ve heard it all before! You Finders are a law unto yourselves. I don’t know why the masters tolerate you so.”

“Because it is their prerogative to do so,” Six replied flatly. “I do not question the laws of the Maester – blessed be her benevolence.”

“Blessed be her benevolence,” the pegasi intoned. Seventeen sneered, moving towards the stool. Suddenly he froze, spinning round to face the green mare in the corner of the room. “YOU!” His fellows as one, tensed as he glowered at Lyra. “You said you were alone!”

“I said I work alone,” Six said simply. “I didn’t say I was alone.”

Seventeen clucked his tongue, “Don’t test me, Six. I’ve had enough of your bad attitude over the years.”

“I always thought I had a very amenable attitude,” Six smiled innocently. “Your brother thought so.”

“My brother was a fool,” Seventeen snorted. “Still, I promised him I would keep an eye on you, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

“And for that I’m eternally grateful.” Six bowed her head.

“Hmph!”

“Anyway, is there something I can do for you, or is this a social call?” Six asked.

Seventeen turned his attention back to Lyra, “Who is she?”

“Her name’s Lyra,” Six said absently. “Her parents sent her here from the islands to learn finding from the expert.”

“Ha! ‘Expert’ indeed!” Seventeen snorted loudly. He looked Lyra up and down, “I thought I knew all the islanders, but I don’t recognise your face.” The stallion frowned in thought, “Who are your parents?”

“I… I don’t know, sir,” Lyra said shyly. “I’m an orphan.”

“Huh! Are you now...”

“Seventeen, what’s going on?” Six asked. “I was expecting Eighteen, but he never turned up.”

“And he won’t be,” Seventeen said weightily. “Ever.”

“What? What do you mean?” Six’s eyes went wide, “Has something happened to him?”

“You could say that,” the pegasus replied. He stared at Lyra, his eyes never leaving her. “We found his body in the forest. Chocks had got him by that damned stone archway. The blasted thing’s a magnet for the weak minded, and I’m convinced the Chocks know that too.”

“Oh Lode, the poor kid...” Six looked genuinely saddened by the news. “I’ve told him before to avoid that place.”

“You did right to do so too.” Seventeen grimaced, pausing to adjust a strap on his chest, “Unfortunately he didn’t listen.” He took a breath, “Look, Six, I don’t want to alarm you, but there’s been another incident… on the beach.”

“Another one?!” Six neighed loudly. “You’re frightening me, Seventeen, and believe me that’s not easy!”

“You always were a tough one,” Seventeen said. A note of compassion entered his steel hard voice. “Two of our lads were looking for tainted and found one, fully grown too, right on the edge of the beach.”

“Dear Load!” Six gasped.

Lyra tried to look genuinely frightened and pushed back into the detritus that had been piled up in the corner.

“Mmm...” Seventeen looked away from her. “Anyway, they went to apprehend it and it used its foul sorcery to summon one of the Chocks. Forty Eight barely escaped with his life, but Twenty...” He closed his eyes, “Twenty was…”

Six lay a hoof on his shoulder, “I’m sorry Seventeen, I know Twenty was your friend. We spent a lot of time together as foals.” She closed her eyes, her voice dropping to a near whisper, “He was one of the good ones.”

“He was a true follower,” Seventeen said at last.

“And this tainted one,” Six asked. “You did get it, right?” Seventeen hung his head, the unanswered question hanging in the air between them. “Wait, you mean it’s still out there?!” Six looked terrified, “You know where it is though? I mean, it wouldn’t come here would it? I can defend myself, but Lyra here’s all alone in the world. She didn’t know anything about the danger of chocks growing in the islands, let alone tainted.”

Lyra shook her head, playing the part of the scared peasant girl.

“In which case you may want to return to your village and help to bring in the catch,” Seventeen said, raising himself up. “I don’t agree with ponies crossing the sea for anything other than deliveries to the citadel. Your people have… strange ideas.”

Six waved her hoof in the air. “Old superstitions and mares tales,” she scoffed. “If you spend your life on the water and fetlock deep in fish guts it’s no wonder your mind becomes addled with that rubbish.”

“And rubbish is exactly what it is!” Seventeen nodded approvingly. He stared a Lyra, “You would be well advised to listen to Six, girl. Get a number like proper ponies and learn well from her. If not, then get back in your boat and go home before you end up like Twenty – Eaten alive.”

Lyra let out a cry and covered her eyes.

“Seventeen! For Lode’s sake, you’ll give her nightmares!” Six hurried to Lyra’s side, taking her muzzle in her forelegs.

“She has a right to frightened, Six, “Seventeen said. “We recently caught one fully grown tainted, and now there’s another on the loose. Where they’re coming from I have no idea, but I’ll get to the bottom of it sooner or later.”

“Didn’t Forty Eight give you any ideas?” Six asked.

“No.” The stallion shook his head, “The poor lad’s in shock, and the healer doesn’t think he’ll ever be right again. All he keeps babbling about is ‘fingers’, ‘violated’, and ‘evil laughter’.” He shivered visibly, “I don’t what the tainted did to him, but if a lone one can do that to two of our Seekers, then we’re going to have to double our patrols to track it down before we lose any more good ponies.”

“Well, thanks be to Lode that you’re here with your brave boys,” Six smiled, giving the other pegasi stallions a gentle smile. One of them blushed a nice shade of red too. “Will you be stopping for a cup of tea? It’d be nice to catch up on things.”

The pegasus commander shook his, “Next time, Six. I’ve got to organise the patrols for tonight in case that thing comes back.” He lay a hoof on Six’s shoulder, “If you see it, don’t hesitate.”

“I don’t-” Six froze.

Seventeen tapped the desk drawer as he watched her reaction. It was the very drawer that held the contraption Six had used to put a hole in the wall. “I don’t act without reason, Six, nor would I warn you if I didn’t have good cause.” He glanced at Lyra, “Both of you are out here in the wrecks far from the village and the citadel. By the time we heard of any trouble it would probably be too late.”

“I have flares,” Six offered, pointing to a rusty metal box on the wall. “Red for danger, right?”

“Red for dead.” Seventeen turned to walked away, waving his team out the door. “I can fly fast, Six, but I can’t turn back time. Dead is dead, and there’s a reason why the masters protect us from the tainted. Like I said, don’t hesitate.” Six nodded solemnly. I’ll close the door behind me. Don’t forget to lock it.”

Again, Six nodded, “Take care, Seventeen. Lode protect you all.”

“Aye,” Seventeen said quietly. “And you.” He nodded to Lyra, “Both of you.”

Lyra watched with a mixture of fascination and relief as the steel door slid shut behind the commander of the pegasus ‘Seekers’. Immediately Six set to chaining and bolting the massive metal covering, securing them from whatever horrors lurked outside. ‘Tainted’ indeed! Lyra let out a sigh. What a strange creature that fellow was! Not that he was all that different to any other pegasus she’d ever met of course. They were all weird so far as she was concerned. It was funny old world when you thought about it; earth ponies thought unicorns were haughty, and unicorns thoughts pegasi were. Magic was her element, and to even think of having to live without it was terrifying. But to give it up for wings and be able to fly? It was hard to imagine, yet on the other hoof it must be incredible to be able to soar high above the clouds without a care in the world. They also had fantastic eyesight and hearing, no doubt the reason why they were employed here by the ‘Zeks’ as ‘Seekers’. The reality of a what a ‘seeker’ was though, that is to track down unicorns and hoof them over to their masters – or kill them if they resisted – put a whole different complexion on things. Why did they fear unicorns so much? Was it their magic? Lyra frowned in thought, pulling the blanket up around herself. Perhaps it had something to do with this mysterious illness that the ponies here suffered from. If the malady was magical in origin then there was a possibility that a unicorn could devise a cure. Do that, and suddenly the zeks lose their grip on the equine population. Still, it was a hell of a leap of logic. Many doctors and physicians back in Equestria were earth ponies, even pegasi for that matter, and there were plenty of diseases ponies could fall foul of without it necessarily being magically based. From what she’d seen so far of this place, and granted that wasn’t very much at all, these guys were hardly advanced in terms of their civilisation away from Equestria. On the other hoof, looking around at the interior of this ship, there must be technology that could help them, surely? Lyra adjusted her hat and wrinkled her nose at the weird aroma emanating from it. It was certainly old and smelled decidedly musty too, but it looked right for a nautical type. Seventeen had obviously thought so and had accepted her story without pressing her with more questions – questions she doubtless wouldn’t have been able to answer. Ha! All he’d had to do was take her hat off and the jig would have been up. It was not a comforting thought.

“That was a close call,” Lyra breathed, watching Six pushed the last bolt into place. “I thought I was for the chop there.” She chuckled, “Just as well he likes you, eh?”

Six didn’t make eye contact with her, “He feels obligated to me, that’s all.”

“I think it’s more than that,” Lyra replied. “I saw the way he looked at you.”

Six shook her head, “You can believe what you want. Seventeen may be Thirty One’s brother, but he wouldn’t think twice about taking us both to the tower if he thought for a moment we’d betrayed the zeks.” She hurried to the desk and started pulling out various items of equipment.

“Who’s Thirty One?” Lyra asked.

“My betrothed,” Six replied simply.

“Oh!” Lyra got up and began to fold the blanket, “So where’ve you got this mystery fella stashed away then, eh?”

The yellow mare pulled out the metal hole making contraption she’d hidden earlier and attached it to her foreleg. “Nowhere,” she replied. “He’s dead.”

Lyra felt her heart go cold. “I… Oh, goddesses,” she face hoofed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Way to put your hoof in it, dimwit! she thought to her self bitterly.

Six shrugged it off as if it were of little consequence. “You didn’t know him and I didn’t tell you, so don’t be.” She looked up at Lyra, “Life means buck all here, unicorn, and if you want to survive you’d better come to learn that pretty damned quick. She nodded to a cabinet on the wall, “You can use your magic to manipulate objects, right?”

Lyra blinked in surprise at the sudden change of conversational direction, “Um, sure, I guess. Why?”

“Because we’re getting you the hell out of here.”

“What?!” Lyra shot to her hooves, “Why? You heard Seventeen, he said-”

“He said that the pegasus you did ‘something’ to has lost his mind, yes.” Six fished around on a shelf where she found the key she was looking for. “Did you use magic on him to scramble his brain or something?”

“Eh? Of course not!” Lyra rolled her eyes, “All I did was poke his bum a bit and frighten him.”

Six paused, “Poke his bum a bit…” She shook her head and reached up to unlock the metal cabinet. “All the more reason for us to act now.”

Lyra frowned, “But why?”

Six clucked her tongue irritably, “Think, girl! If he comes back to his senses all he’ll need to do is describe a green mare with a white stripe in her hair and Seventeen will be all over us like stink on a bilge rat.” She nodded over to some panniers stacked in the corner, “Grab those and put them on. I always keep them supplied in case I need to get out of here in a hurry.”

“Happen a lot that, does it?” Lyra’s mind was in a blur and she wasn’t really thinking about what she was saying.

In reply, Six shot her a hard stare, “No. Not until you appeared… Lyra Heartstrings.”

The way the yellow mare said her name made Lyra’s hair stand up along her spine. Six may have saved her on the beach, in a roundabout way of course, but that didn’t mean she was her friend by any stretch of the imagination. The fact that she’d covered for her when Seventeen arrived could very well have been no more than an act to save her own hide as well as Lyra’s. No, friends don’t shoot holes in walls next to your head either.

“Ever used one of these before?”

As the last strap on the packs was pulled into place, Lyra looked up to see Six holding a black metal tube-like object. She stared at the thing and shook her head, “No. What is it?”

Raising herself on her hind legs, Six lifted the thing in her forehooves. “Shotgun.” At Lyra’s puzzled expression she continued, “Makes holes in things. Lots of holes.” She tapped a wooden slide-like part on the front of the device. “You rack this back and it cycles the next shell. Takes these...” She lifted up a belt fitted with short, red cylindrical things. “Takes seven of these. You put them in here, rack it, and you’re good to-” She paused, watching Lyra’s eyes. “Never mind, I’ll be taking this.”

The green mare’s mouth had gone dry again. She hung her head and licked her lips, “Six, what’s going on here? I mean, I understand that Seventeen could come back, but why are you doing this for me? Why put yourself in danger for a complete stranger, and a ‘tainted’ unicorn at that.”

Lyra thought for a second that she saw Six cringe. But only for a second. “Just… Come on,” the yellow mare huffed. And just like that they were on the move.

The world outside, full of bright sunshine and blue sky, soon seemed like little more than a hazy memory. The evening was coming on quickly, and what light there was through the portholes had been replaced by… “What are these?” As they descended another set of metal stairs, Lyra had been able to have a close-up look at one of the lights marking their path. It wasn’t magical that was for sure, and it certainly wasn’t fuelled by kerosene.

“Light bulbs,” Six said over her shoulder. “They’re powered by electricity from the hydro-electric generator in the inlet.

Lyra shook her head, “I’ve never heard of… what did you call it?”

“Electricity,” Six repeated. “Think of lightning, only more… ‘controlled’.”

“The zeks can control lightning?!” Lyra was shocked, and not a little frightened too. It would certainly explain the awe the ponies here held for the so-called ‘zeks’.

“Of a kind,” Six explained. They turned another corner and passed another rusting sign. The zeks sure were keen on their signs apparently - the things were everywhere. This particular one was a map of the interior of the ship, and accompanied by more of that alien writing. Lyra mouthed the words, trying to sound them out. She’d seen a language like it, but it didn’t quite add up. “You know how your fur can stand on end if you comb it too much when it’s dry?” Six continued. Lyra nodded. “That ‘snap’ is electricity. We just call it ‘static’, but the zeks call it ‘static electricity’. It’s not much use like that of course, but the generator I use creates it’s own electricity from the motion of the waves which I then store in batteries. It’s old though, bound together with string and best wishes for the most part, but it gives me enough power for the lights, cooking, and even hot water.”

“I could sure do with some of that!” Lyra replied longingly. She’d been trying in vain to ignore the faint smell of bile emanating from her coat which had been hanging about like the proverbial ever since the incident in the portal. What she wouldn’t do for a hot bath right now! She looked up at the ceiling disappearing off into the darkness and whistled, noting how that singular note echoed all around her. “Look at this place, it’s absolutely vast!” she breathed. “You could home hundreds in here, and with light and power you’d be safe from those bloody chock things too.”

Six snorted, “And spend the rest of your life rotting away without ever feeling the sun against your coat?” She let out a loud snort, “Pah! We’re ponies, not moles. Only a lunatic would willingly live their whole life in service to the zeks or hide in the darkness praying for deliverance. You call that a choice, do you?”

Lyra frowned, “I didn’t mean it like that, Six. It was-”

The yellow mare held up a hoof, “I know what you meant.”

From that moment the two continued their descent into the bowels of the leviathan without speaking, with only the dim light from the curiously alien ‘bulbs’ illuminating their way.

Time passed slowly in the ship. In truth it was hard to tell exactly what time it was considering the lack of portholes or the fact that Lyra hadn’t brought a timepiece with her. Unfortunately most of her things had been left at the dig site. There wasn’t anything there she couldn’t have lived without of course. One of the things you learned early on was that you didn’t take things on a job if you were paranoid about theft, damage or loss. Archaeologists were a strange bunch by and large, and it had to be said that they did attract some odd balls on occasion. The camps were also wide open to anypony who fancied having a sniff around, with the inevitable consequence that sometimes things went ‘missing’. On the bigger jobs they had security, which on reflection they sure could have done with on this latest one. However, hindsight is a wonderful thing, and if she could have turned the clock back she would have made herself scarce the moment Timber had written to her with the job offer. Perhaps if she had then poor Parchment wouldn’t have- She closed her eyes and gave herself a hard shake.

“Six?”

The yellow mare didn’t look back at her as she answered, “Yeah?”

“What do they do with the unicorns they take?”

Six seemed to think about this for while, the two passing several more light bulbs before she deigned to answer, “I don’t know.”

“Oh...” Lyra’s heart sank. “Do you mean you don’t know personally, or that none of your people talk about it?”

The yellow mare gritted her teeth and her ears visible flattened. Lyra felt she’d taken a step too far, but if she didn’t find out what had happened to Parchment, then… She closed her eyes and shuddered. She didn’t want to think about it now, and was beginning to regret asking Six anything at all.

“Does it matter?” Six asked. “They do what they want with us, and we let them. They give us the medicine and we provide the food and the labour. All very equitable, yes?” Six tossed her mane, picking up her pace as they travelled ever deeper. “They take our children, Lyra, did I tell you that? They… the zeks, they...” She paused, “No, that’s not right. The zeks don’t take our children, they let us give them to them the same way we give them sacks of fish, wheat and vegetables. Oh, we’re all very well trained! It’s done without barely a word either. Even the parents take heart that these terrible, ‘tainted beings’ are being given to their blessed, revered gods.” She sobbed back a tear, “And only the gods know what happens to them.”

Lyra felt her heart falter. She was right, she really had hit a raw nerve. “You lost somepony, didn’t you,” she said quietly.

“Lost?” Six turned suddenly, glaring up at Lyra. “Lost?” She held up a hoof, indicating the darkness all around them. “This is ‘lost’, Lyra. This stuff, this rusting, rotten, oily shit the zeks desire so much, is what’s lost. That’s why ponies like me, the Finders, go to the wrecks, the cliffs, the forest, even the swamps of the lost, to look for things that they, these ‘gods’ of ours, have lost. But do the zeks give us anything in return other than the medicine to keep us working? Working for them?” She let out a huff and continued to descend. “If any of us fall ill or, Lode forbid grow old, we’re no longer of any use to them and are turned out into the forest to starve – or worse.” Her voice dropped an octave as she added, “We have to keep our numbers ‘just so’, or else there isn’t enough medicine for everypony.”

“My goddesses,” Lyra breathed. She’d heard of population control in areas that had poor natural resources in some of the more remote areas outside of Equestria, but this? They actually turned out those who were no longer able to provide for the zeks, into the forest? The forest where those chocks live? “Is this what all that number business is about?” Lyra asked half to herself. “Why you don’t have real names?”

Six let out a low, humourless laugh, “The village elders give us our number at our coming of age ceremony when we get our cutie mark, but there are those of us who remember the days before the tower, those of us who keep believing in a better future where we are no longer forced to surrender our babies and work until we drop as indentured slaves to those… those things.”

“The days before the tower?” Lyra felt a shiver run down her spine, “Six, you don’t mean Galeus’s tower, do you?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. One of the other ponies had mentioned Parchment being taken to a tower, but it wasn’t as if towers in and of themselves were all that rare. “Did all your people come here through the portal?” Lyra asked, “Like me?”

The name had an immediate effect on the yellow mare. She all but snarled the name through gritted teeth, “Galeus...” Six’s eyes narrowed, but just as Lyra thought she was about to say more she stopped again, this time removing two round rimmed metal helmets from hooks on the wall. Each one had a light attached to the top which was duly switched on. “Put this on and tuck your ears inside,” Six said helpfully. “The lights are out from here on in, so make sure you keep close.” She looked Lyra up and down before adding, “You may have a job with that horn of yours, but-”

“I can use magic, remember?” Lyra replied. “Watch this.” And then, with the simplest of illumination spells, the ancient hold of the stranded steel vessel burst into life around them. “Let there be light.”

Six swallowed as she covered her eyes from the sudden and unexpected glare. Lyra would have too, if her legs had decided to obey her. A curse croaked from her dry mouth, “Buck me ragged…!”

All around them the once gleaming steel of the ship’s hold was brought into the full light of pure Equestrian magic. Miles of pipes, ladders, gantries, and all manner of exotic machinery whose unfathomable purpose had been lost in time, blended together with the extraordinary panoply of detritus from another world. Lyra’s eyes took it all in, unable to speak. Looking back she could see where they’d come from, and also where they were heading too. All of it, every single inch of it, sat there in complete and utter silence except for the faint, distant sound of the ever present waves breaking against the stern. But that wasn’t all of it. Not by a long shot. Stretching off into the distance like some alien cathedral to an ancient god, enormous piles of gemstones lay hither and thither in untold numbers. Was this what Six recovered for the zeks? But… If it was their ship to begin with, why would they leave it all here? Why were the ships here in the first place? The answer seemed obvious.

“Offerings to the gods,” Lyra whispered. Her voice echoed in the distance, resounding off unseen metal that likely hadn’t seen light or life since… She gave herself a shake.

“That stuff?” Six gave herself a shake, peering over the railing at the gleaming piles. “Manganese ore,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “The zeks use it for only Lode knows what.”

So, not gemstones then. She had no idea what ‘manganese ore’ was anyway. “Is it valuable?” Lyra asked.

“Not to anypony but the zeks,” came the simple reply. Six changed the subject, nodding towards another of the ship’s maps. “We’re nearly there. When we reach the engine room there’s another set of stairs where we can head up to the crew quarters.”

Lyra nodded her understanding. This place was beginning to creep her out, and it was made all the worse by the shadows her light was casting amongst all the pipework. This must be what it’s like being swallowed by a whale, Lyra pondered silently. Gods, what a thought! She had to keep the conversation going whether Six liked it or not, otherwise she’d end up losing her nerve altogether. “Six?” she asked, “Who’s Lode?”

Six huffed, jogging down the last few metal steps until they were standing on the lowest level. It was dry here, but every now and again the sound of something scurrying away from Lyra’s magical light could be heard fading into the distance. Rats probably… At least she hoped that was all they were. “Lode Stone was the first to come through the portal into this land,” she began. “He founded the village, helped the others to learn the various skills we needed to survive here: farming, fishing, building. That sort of thing.”

“So he’s venerated by the ponies here?” Lyra asked.

“You could say that,” Six replied. “He’s not a god, or an alicorn, or any of that nonsense.” Lyra felt a little dig at her in that statement. “No, he was just a stallion who had the wherewithal to survive. Just as well really. If it wasn’t for him we’d have died out long ago.”

“Were the zeks here when you arrived?” Lyra prompted.

“When the first ponies arrived you mean?” Six shrugged, “I’m not sure.” Her voice suggested that she genuinely didn’t have a clue. “Some think they’ve always been here, and that it was they who used their knowledge of medicine to save us from the fever which we’ve suffered from since the very first of us appeared through the portal.”

“But not everypony believes that, right?”

Six let out a snort, “No. Some think that the zeks came later, washed up by the storms which bring them onto the beach. Some think...” She nickered under her breath, “Some think that they were the ones who brought the sickness with them – that we were here first.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Lyra said quietly. “It’s obvious the zeks aren’t from here. In fact, I don’t think they’re from Equestria at all.” She glanced at the writing on the wall, the images of a stylised two legged creature on a sign apparently warning the viewer to wear a helmet.

Six glanced back at her, those big eyes of hers speaking of a life in this land that Lyra couldn’t even being to understand. “The storms bring them,” she said coldly. “A storm happens, the zeks come. That’s all we need to know, apparently...”

“And they go up to the citadel when they appear?” Lyra asked, noting Six’s tone of voice. “Just like that?”

Six nodded, “The Seekers locate the survivors and lead them to the citadel to be with the others.”

“Whether they like it or not, eh?” Lyra huffed under her breath, trying to piece all the fragments of information together like a broken old pot from one of her digs. She’d done this kind of thing a thousand times or more over the years. Unearthing the past was her job, and trying to understand events which may have happened hundreds if not thousands of years earlier was something she’d not only trained for, but was also damned good at. At least the ponies she worked with seemed to think so. But this time things were different. No matter how she arranged the pieces in her mind, none of it was coming together in any intelligible form. “None of this makes any sense,” she announced finally, shaking her head in disbelief. “The zeks sound like they’re shipwreck survivors, not an indigenous population. Besides, unless they beach their ships here deliberately, why in Equestria wouldn’t they try to get home? The vessels don’t look so badly damaged that they couldn’t be made to float again. They’re all lined up too, as if somepony had deliberately put them there for convenience. Now I’m no expert in nautical matters, but you know, I don’t think that storms are all that orderly?”

Six shrugged again in that dismissive manner Lyra had noted was almost habitual, “The storms bring them, that’s all I know. And not it’s just ships either. The zeks come from the sky as well. Every time there’s a storm the seekers scour the land and the sea. Some of the zeks die before they’re found, but there’s nearly always at least a few survivors. Those are taken to live with the rest of them in the citadel.”

“And they just stay there, living in this ‘citadel’ place?”

“That’s right.”

“What, you mean they never leave?”

“Not that I know of,” Six said plainly. “They… don’t talk much.”

“So you’ve spoken to them then?” Lyra asked. “Or you’ve tried to?”

Six let out a low rumble of irritation, “I said they don’t talk much. Is it that hard to understand?”

Lyra shook her head, “No. But what it sounds like to me is that they’re more like prisoners than a free population.” Lyra felt a shiver run down her spine. “Who’s on the outside, Six? It’s you, isn’t it - you and your people. You give them food, and sure they give you medicines in return, but what if you found how the medicine was made for yourselves? You could just walk away, all of you, and-”

“Do you think we don’t know that already?!” Six’s voice carried through the ship’s hold, resounding, cold, and heavy with emotion. “We’ve tried countless times to find out what the medicine is. Lode knows how we tried! But there’s something in it, something we just can’t replicate.”

“What about the portal then?” Lyra asked. “Surely some of you must have tried going back through the way you came.”

“Ha! You think it’s that easy, do you?” Six stopped in her tracks and rounded on her. “Do you know why none of us can go back to your magical land of Equestria, girl? Let me tell you - there’s a reason why that bastard, that thrice cursed rat, Galeus, only sent earth ponies and pegasi through the portal.” She moved closer, staring into Lyra’s eyes uncomfortably. “Come on, take a wild guess what that was!”

“Because,” Lyra began. The answer seemed so clear, so obvious, at least in Six’s mind. “Because there was a chance a unicorn could work out how the portal operated and go back the way they came?”

Six sniffed, then to Lyra’s surprise bopped her on the horn, “That’s what I believe. But then, why would anypony listen to an oil stained Finder living in the wrecks, eh?” With a shake of her tail she picked up speed, once more leaving Lyra in her wake.

The gravity of what Lyra had heard began to make itself felt in her mind. She’d heard stories of Galeus, and how that rogue mage had used ponies as guinea pigs with her crazy experiments. One such tale referred to her use of volunteers, or ‘travellers’ as she’d called them, to try out the efficacy of the portal network when it was in its infancy. Apparently it hadn’t always worked as expected either, and what had come out at the other end wasn’t always… recognisable. Up until then she’d written the story off as nothing more than a legend, a harsh story from the depths of time used to warn ponies away from using any active portals they may stumble upon. Now that very same legend, the one the archaeologists used to laugh about as being ‘too far fetched’, was starting to look far from being a legend at all. Indeed, by the looks of things the experiments of the infamous sorceress had been an all too effective one way trip – of the worst kind. Whether the ‘volunteers’ had been willing or not was a question that wasn’t ever likely to be answered, but it didn’t take a genius to work out that there would have been a distinct lack of willingness in the participants if they’d thought there was a chance they may not be coming back. Suddenly realisation dawned. “That’s why you’re helping me, isn’t it?” Lyra asked. “You’re not doing it out of the kindness of your heart, or that you feel compelled to help another pony in distress.” Her neck quivered, “You think a unicorn might be able to activate the portal and get you out of here.”

“And can you?” came the simple reply.

Lyra stared at the yellow mare incredulously, “I told you earlier that the portal I came through was destroyed. What, you think I was making that up for a laugh?! Gods above, I’ve still got bald patches on my arse to show for it!” Lyra sighed, facehoofing. “There’s nothing to go back through to, Six.” She peered into the eyes of the yellow mare, more than a little surprised to see so little in the way of emotion there. She’d have thought that at the very least Six would have been hopeful she could have opened the portal. But no, on the contrary she didn’t show any signs of emotion at all. If anything she seemed almost… relieved? “You know,” Lyra said quietly, “I’m not sure you even thought it was possible in the first place. Am I right?”

Six huffed, “I had my doubts.”

“So why go to all this trouble to save my hide then?” Lyra asked. “I know I’ve asked this before, Six, but you evaded the question. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like a little openness and honesty before we go any further.”

Six gave her customary snort, looking away from Lyra to the walkway ahead of them, “We don’t have time for this, Lyra.”

“Yes we do,” Lyra replied curtly. “We can talk as we walk.”

“No.”

Lyra balked, “What?”

“I said, no.” Six didn’t even bother to look back at her.

“Oh, yeah?” Lyra spat, “Well I don’t intend taking another step in this damned tomb until you start telling me the truth! How do like them apples, ‘girl’?”

“I like them just fine,” Six announced turning away. “Stay here then.”

“Oh, yeah? Like you mean that!”

“I do,” Six said, adjusting the helmet on her head. “Survival is all that matters on the island, Lyra. And I for one, intend to. I don’t need a horn, a goddess, or ‘magic’ to be able to do that.”

Lyra had had enough, “Now you’re just being a bitch!”

“I’m being realistic.”

“Like shit you are!” Lyra could feel anger welling up inside her. It wasn’t unpleasant especially. Truthfully she almost relished the feeling of power it gave her. But there was a time and a place for expressing such things, and now was not it. “Look…” She took a deep breath, letting her tension simmer down a little. “I just want to know what’s happening. I’m not averse to helping you, Six, or your people. But you need to understand that I’m just a pony, like you. I’m not a heroine, I’m not some adventuring type, I’m just a singer and an archaeologist who got thrown into a shitty situation by a bunch of arseholes. Hell, if it hadn’t been for that dickhead Parchment I’d probably have sat back and watched those suits blow up the portal with a mug of tea and a biscuit. Well, I may have been a bit pissed off about it of course, but at least I’d be home and safe, not… not wherever the hell this nightmare land is. You know, I don’t even know if I’m even on the same bloody planet! Gods help me, all I want is to go home, but from what I’ve seen we’re all nothing but castaways in the middle of butt-buck nowhere. You, me, the zeks, your people… We’ve all been vomited up here by fate, and if any of us want to get out of here then maybe we should be looking to pooling our resources and knowledge instead of acting all bitchy all the time.” Lyra tossed her mane out of her eyes, satisfied that she’d finally got her point across. She wasn’t one for speech making, at all in all honesty, but she was pleasantly surprised with how she’d- Hang on…

“Hey!” Lyra took a frustrated step towards Six who was staring into space. “Did you hear a word I just-”

“Shhh!”

“Tch! Don’t you shush me, you-”

“Shut up I said!” Six continued to stare past Lyra. “There’s something there.”

The two mares stood in silence, barely daring to breath. Despite the brightness of the glowing orb above Lyra’s horn, the magical light could not dispel every shadow. And here, deep within the hold of the ship where the veins and arteries of the great vessel threaded through its ancient metal skin, there were a lot of shadows. A lot of places too where something could lurk, hiding from the brightness. Beside her, Lyra heard the sound of the shotgun being readied. She heard the sound of a click, saw the way Six shifted her weight onto her hind legs, reared slightly, and then…

Something black, something fluttering like a crazed wash-cloth, flew at them out of the darkness. Whatever it was it entered the light in a wild fury of wings, shrieking shrilly in the unaccustomed glare. Lyra looked up in time to see it, to see the tiny, beady eyes, the long thin teeth like sewing needles glinting maliciously. The creature hissed angrily, unsure whether to attack or flee.

The choice was irrelevant anyway.

BOOM.

The brightness of the muzzle flash was muted in the Lyra’s magical light, but the sound was anything but. Here in the enclosed hold the sound was amplified ten fold, echoing around them before passing off into the distance. Lyra stood holding her ears, her attention drawn to the spray of gore across the walkway that had marked the path of the flying creature. At first she felt relief, and then… then there was the sound. There in the distance, beyond the faint hiss of the waves… she heard them.

“Shit! Let’s move, there’ll be more coming any second.” Six roughly shoved the shotgun back into its holster on her flank and launched herself forward, “Forget the upper decks, we’ll never make it.”

Never make it?! Lyra didn’t wait to see what Six was talking about. Unlike on the beach when fear had gripped her so cruelly, this time it all but had her in a full gallop from a standing start. In any case she sure as hell wasn’t going to question Six’s plan now, whatever it may be. Right then running as fast as possible was far more important. In fact the more distance she put between them and those ‘things’ the better so far as she was concerned. Putting her head down she easily caught up with the yellow mare. “What was that thing?” she shouted.

Their hooves thundered along the metal walkway, the noise of their passage almost deafening in the enclosed hold. “We call them ‘arbalests’,” Six called back. “Think bats but with large teeth and a taste for blood.”

“I’m guessing that means ours, right?” Lyra snorted.

Six dodged around a thick metal pipe without letting her speed drop for a second, “If they can get it, yes!” she replied breathily.

The hushing of waves was louder now, but so too was another sound - the sound of fluttering… and shrieking. A lot of shrieking. Lyra couldn’t see them, she didn’t want to either, but she knew they were there alright. Dozens, maybe hundreds of them. A tidal wave of black, leathery fluttering things with long teeth and those hideous, tiny dead eyes. They were coming.

“Can’t you use that shotgun thing to stop them?” Lyra shouted.

Six let out a dry laugh, “How many rounds do you think I have?!” She tossed her mane, lowering her head for more speed. “The only thing we can do now is run!”

Lyra neighed loudly in response, “That’s what I’m bloody well doing!”

“I’m glad to hear it!”

The mares hooves thundered with their headlong gallop, the two of them passing more of the ship’s maps, more pipes, more gantries, ever more steps disappearing into the darkness beyond the magical light. And yet despite how fast they ran, no matter how hard they pushed themselves, the louder that ominous, unearthly sound grew behind them.

Six abruptly pulled up, turned left, jinked past a mass of pipes, and glanced up in alarm, “Hell, they’re nearly on us! We aren’t going to make it!”

Lyra shook her head. An idea came to her, “Can we find the way there with just the lights on the helmets?”

“What?! Of course we can!” Six shouted back looking confused.

“Good!” The green mare put on a burst of speed, coming up alongside Six, “Stay close whatever you do.” Flicking on the lamp her neck shivered, “I just hope this works...”

“What are you-” Six’s eyes went wide as the world around her changed colour.

The bright blue-white glare of magic winked out, replaced a second later by a shimmering bubble of rich golden light which enveloped the two mares. It did little to illuminate the ever present darkness, but it was better than nothing. The beams from the lamps on the helmets did the rest. Their silent light shone out into the gloom, illuminating just enough of the gantry to keep them on course. Six visibly flinched at the sudden change but kept running, ignoring all else.

The first of the creatures slammed into the shield a few seconds later.

Shrieks of outrage filled Lyra’s ears as the arbalest flapped desperately against the shield, its prey almost within reach beyond the wall of this strange glowing orb. Unable to get a purchase the leathery winged beast scrabbled with its tiny hooked claws, gradually sliding down and then falling away into the blackness. Moments later more appeared. The result was the same, each of them hurling themselves at the shield, flapping hopelessly, then sliding off to be replaced shortly afterwards by more of their fellows.

Lyra swallowed, the strain beginning to take its toll not only on her body but on her dwindling magic reserves. She was from inept when it came to her magical abilities, but she’d used far more of it since arriving in this madhouse than she had in the last six months. Keeping up a shield wasn’t all that hard when it was to defend yourself against idiots throwing bottles, but when you had to run and keep it up? Now that was no mean feat for any unicorn. Fear, however, had its advantages.

Thankfully their salvation was soon at hoof.

“There!” Six shouted. “Slow down, we’re there.”

“Where’s ‘there’?” Lyra snorted.

She needn’t have asked. The enormous wall of steel loomed up out of the darkness like a sheer cliff face of orange tinged grey. Set into its smooth surface was the most glorious sight Lyra had ever seen – well, at least since their march through this horrible ship had started anyway. It was a door. A large, oval, thick steel door with a small round window in the top. Above it a small sign stated ‘ENGINE ROOM’. Lyra mouthed the words, earning a curious look from Six.

“Give me a hoof here will you, the damn things stuck.” The yellow mare heaved on the thick metal wheel set into the centre of the door. Lyra moved up to her, took it in hoof, and heaved. Nothing happened. She stared up at Six, their eyes meeting.

One by one, more of the arbalests slapped into the shield, the sound of their frustration drowning out the thunderous beating of Lyra’s heart. “What are we going to do?” she whispered. Panic was starting to grip her.

Six squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her forehead in thought, “Can you keep this magic thing going?” She looked up at another set of stairs leading up. “We could try for the rear superstructure and the crew quarters, but-”

As if in answer, Lyra shield suddenly faltered. It was only for a split second, but it was enough to let one of the things through. It landed on Lyra’s back and immediately dug its claws into her backpack.

“GET IT OFF ME!” she shrieked.

Six yanked out her shotgun, “Hold still, Lode dammit!” With that she grabbed the barrel in her hooves and swung it like a bat, swatting the thing away. The things squeaked and flapped, but only long enough for Six to leap upon the flailing creature. Hooves well practised at digging and years of scouring hard to reach places amongst the wrecks pounded the monstrous beast into a bloody red paste. Lyra thought she was going to be sick.

“Can’t you use your magic on the door?” Six tried, chambering another shell in the shotgun.

Lyra shook her head wearily, “Not if you want me to keep the shield up too.” She let out a heavy huff of air, “Gods, I’m half dead as it is.”

“We’ll be completely dead if we don’t do something!”

“It was your bucking stupid idea to come down here in the first place!” Lyra snapped back. “Remind me why we didn’t use the deck again? Or are there worse things trying to eat us there?”

“The Seekers could be-” Six began.

Lyra felt herself begin to lose control, “I think I would have preferred my chances up there, don’t you?!” She was becoming hysterical, and what was worse was she knew it too. “We’re going to die down here. Down in this shitty, miserable hell hole!”

“Not today you’re not.”

A loud metallic clanking pulled Six’s attention, her gaze drawn to a cylinder approximately six inches long and bearing a strange inner glow. The thing bounced down the gantry stairs, landing just outside the perimeter of the shield. Suddenly the yellow mare turned and threw herself atop Lyra, “Cover your ears and-” The world turned white, followed a moment later by a deafening BANG. The mares screamed in unison, covering their eyes the best they could. And then a word, a strange accented word, but clearly equestrian, called through the whining in the ears…

“HURRY!”

Six’s shotgun was already out and firing at the stunned arbalests, “Whatever you’re going to do, you better hurry!” she shouted. “They’re stunned but they’ll be back.”

Lyra felt sick. Her magic faltered, and with it the shield. Weakly she pulled herself to her hooves.

“Lyra! Get yourself together, NOW!”

“I… Oh, goddess...” Lyra shoved the ill fitting helmet back onto her head, licking her horribly dry lips. Luna’s arse she need a drink right then. Anything would do, and what she wouldn’t give for a glass, just one glass, of plain, clear, water. But drinking was the last thing she should be thinking about right then. If she didn’t get her act together, and quickly, thirst would be the last thing she’d have on her mind. In the dim light of the lamp she focussed on the large metal wheel, gripped it in her magic, and focussed all her energy. “Right...” She closed her eyes, trying to think clearly. Her head was still ringing with the sound from that… whatever the hell it was. “Righty… tighty. Lefty...” It was hard, very hard, but one good yank and… the wheel moved. “Loosey!” Her jubilation gave her added strength and she kept turning, watching the wheel rotate, moving the large metal pins that had held it closed since who knew when. She turned to give the good news to Six just as the shotgun went off.

There was a screech, and then another. More came. The shotgun’s deafening blasts resounded again and again, each report coming quicker and more desperate than the last.

Terror grabbed at Lyra’s heart. She looked up at the broiling mass of leather things coming at them, turned again, and bucked the door as hard as she could. It moved, creaking open on ancient hinges. It wasn’t enough. She kicked again. The sound of hoof against metal, the strain of her magic shoving on the heavy steel, mingled with the dread mix of sound and emotion bursting all around her. Six screamed. The shotgun fired. And then… pain. A sharp, searing pain lanced across Lyra back. In a blind panic she leaped back, crushing the arbalest between herself and the door. Almost simultaneously the two of them fell bodily through the opening, and into whatever lay beyond.

It was all too much for the young mare. Terrified beyond reason, physically exhausted to the point of collapse, Lyra’s world was plunged into darkness more complete than the hold of the great vessel.

Chapter Five - Welcome to our humble home

“Is she awake?”

“Nah, she’s totally out of it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course I am, just look at the state of her! Anyway, the arbalest venom’ll give her the rest she needs. Speaking of which she’ll need a drink and some food when she comes round. Mind if I snabble a few of the supplies?”

“You need to ask?”

“Nope! Here we go…”

“That enough? We’ve got more in-”

“Oh, stop worrying! There’s plenty here for now. If I need more I’ll give you a shout, okay?”

“Hmpf!”

“You know, if the wind changes your face will stick like that one day.”

“Huh! I’m glad to see some cliches are universal.”

“Folk wisdom passed down through the ages, eh? Hah! Look at her curled up like that. If it wasn’t for that cone sticking out of her bonce you’d think she was just a regular old pony like the rest of us. Most of us that is.”

“Damn it, Celly, you took one hell of a risk bringing that kid here. What on earth were you thinking?”

“You know very well what I was thinking, and don’t come all high and mighty with me, mister! I risked my neck to get her here.”

“Through the goddamned hold of all places! For Christ’s sake…”

“Stop that, you know I don’t like it when you swear like that.”

“I think I’ve got a damned good right to, don’t you?! You were nearly killed down there. It’s only because I heard all the screaming that I got to you in time. Otherwise...” “Oh, Celly, what I am going to do with you?”

“You could try kissing me?”

“What, in front of… her?”

“Sure, why not? She’ll be out for the count for a few hours yet. Poor kid needs it too.”

“She really has magic then? I mean, you told me the stories about them, but it sounds so far fetched I’m not sure what to make of it all.”

“Oh, it’s real alright. I’ve seen it first hoof, and it’s the only reason we’re still in one piece. Well, one of reasons, hmm? My big, strong, hero...”

“Stop it! Later, love… please.”

“Tch! And I thought you liked a mare who was all hot and sweaty. Hmm, on second thoughts... Pooh! I stink! The shower still working?”

“Of course.”

“Sounds good to me then. I’ll go and grab my towel. You know, I still can’t believe you’re able to keep that old thing going. And hot water too?”

“Naturally.”

“Yeah, you always were good with your hands.”

“You’re a god-damned pervert, girl, you know that?”

“Huh, would you prefer me any other way?”

“No...”

“Come on then, you can help me… lather up...”

“What about her?”

“What, you want a threesome now?”

“Celly! For Christ’s sake!”

“Meh! Guess you’ll just have to settle for little ole’ me then, eh? Anyway, she’s so frail looking I doubt she’d be able to keep up. Us earth girls may not have magic, but we have real staying power.”

“I know.”

“Now who’s the pervert!”

“Hey! You get up those stairs before I-!”

Voices. Two voices. One was clearly a stallion, whilst the other… Was that Six? It sounded like her, but the male had called her… what was it now… Celly? Lyra would have groaned, but her body refused to obey her. Her eyes were closed and her breathing steady, slow, and a feeling of relaxation pervaded every part of her fibre. The catch, however, was that she was still very much conscious – just unable to do or say anything, which was quite frightening in its own way. When she’d ‘come to’, Lyra had been aware of two figures standing over her, talking to one another about her as if she were dead to the world – metaphorically speaking of course. At first she’d felt an overwhelming sense of panic and would have lost her mind completely if her curiosity hadn’t taken control. She’d listened, paying close attention to the two voices, and in particular the male’s. She didn’t recognise his voice at all, but by the sounds of things he wasn’t pleased that Six, or ‘Celly’ apparently, had risked her life travelling through the bowels of the old ship. Apparently he, like Six to some degree, had been surprised by not only the mere existence of unicorns but also of magic itself. Now that really was interesting. Magic had been an intrinsic part of the Equestrian landscape since the dawn of time. It certainly hadn’t been exclusive to equines either. In fact there were many creatures, plants, flora and fauna and in general really, that were imbued with what the egg heads called ‘thaumaturgical properties’. She’d remembered that term from an archaeological report put out during her student years on the dangers of ancient ruins. Ha! A bit late to worry about that now, right? Still, you’d think that there were at least some magical things in the area. Unless… Unless she wasn’t even in… Oh, gods! What if she wasn’t even on the same planet?! The possibility had entered her mind earlier, but here, able to lie in silence and actually think clearly, made that same possibility look more and more like a very distinct and altogether terrifying reality. Lyra certainly wasn’t the first to take this trip into a living nightmare, as poor Parchment had also discovered when the damned fool had done the very thing archaeologists had at the top of their list of things ‘not to do’. Still, at least he’d had a choice in the matter. Others hadn’t. Untold numbers of innocent ponies had been thrown through a portal set up by some magical lunatic thousands of years ago to see if the concept of portal travel actually worked. Whether the esteemed Galeus gave a damn if the poor sods she used as her guinea pigs survived these ‘experiments’, or even cared where the poor sods would end up, was doubtful. And ‘end up’ was right too. Disorientated, puking their guts up and no doubt terrified beyond reason, the victims of Galeus’ experiments had taken a one way trip to the arse end of nowhere. And here they’d stayed, stayed and became effectively slaves to some alien race of… whatever the hell ‘zeks’ were. And then there were these ships. A storm comes along and a ship appears. The zeks are on board, leave the ship, and off they all trot to live in this ‘citadel’, just like that. Mentally she shook her head. Something stank about that. Hmm… Speaking of which, her sense of smell was coming back to her now. Unfortunately all she could smell was oil… oil, water, and that odd metallic rusty smell that old steel tended to give off. She’d detected it on Six when she’d first met her. It was far from pleasant, sure, but not something she couldn’t put up with in the circumstances. Lyra mentally sighed. Six had said that the venom would wear off soon, so she may as well get her head down while it did just that. She was right about one other thing – she really needed to rest.

The sound of water woke Lyra with a start. She opened her eyes, sat up, and stared right into the eyes of Six who was holding a cup of tea. “This looks familiar,” Lyra croaked, taking the proffered beverage. “We really ought to stop meeting like this.”

Six chuckled.

“Are you…” Lyra sipped the tea, taking in the sight before her. “Are you okay? You seem… different somehow.”

The yellow mare grinned and gave her a mane a toss, letting the sunlight through the portholes glint off the shower of rich orange hair. She even smelled nice too, the pleasant scent of lemon grass and herbs cutting through the background smell of oil.

“I’ve just had a shower,” Six said happily. “One of the advantages of living out here in the wrecks. You can have one yourself if you like. There’s hot water up in the crew quarters, but have your tea first before I take you up.” She leaned forward and inspected Lyra’s hind quarters, “Feeling any better?”

Lyra nodded, feeling a blush come to her cheeks. She didn’t like strange ponies coming that close to her as a rule, but in this case Six was inspecting a neat patch of cloth that had been taped over where, she suspected, one of those damned bat-things had bitten her.

“Good thing your magic got that door open,” Six explained. “Another few seconds and we’d have been dead as door nails.”

Lyra smiled, “Good job we had a hoof from your mysterious mate then, eh?”

Six froze, “My what?”

“Your mate,” Lyra repeated. “You know, the one who dropped that bright popping thing that scared off the arbalests?”

“I...” Six blinked, “That was me.” She nodded towards a bandoleer of cylinders similar to the one Lyra had seen just before it had exploded right in front of them. “It’s called a popper. I use them for scaring away the arbalests if they get feisty.”

“Oh...” Lyra frowned in thought, “Sorry, I thought I heard you two talking earlier.”

“No, there’s just you and me here,” Six said firmly. “You passed out from the arbalest venom as soon as you opened the door and I had to drag you in here. You’ve been unconscious anyway, so even if there had been somepony else in here you wouldn’t have been able to hear them.”

Lyra paused. Had she imagined it all? Surely not, but then what Six said did seem perfectly plausible. “So you live here alone?” Lyra gave her shoulders a rub, tentatively checking her legs still worked. They did. “This place is huge, Six. Don’t you get lonely being here by yourself?”

“No,” came the blunt reply.

There was a horrible sensation of tension hanging in the air, suggesting that Lyra had put her hoof into something that the yellow mare did not want to discuss any further. She decided to change the subject, “Nothing but us and the arbalests, eh? Lovely house guests you keep.” Six gave a humourless smile. “Well it did number on my arse alright,” Lyra huffed. “Damned thing. They pack a hell of a punch.”

“On their own they’re not much of a threat as a rule,” Six said plainly. “Their bite will knock you out for a few hours, but by that time they’ll have drained you drier than a year old raisin.”

“And you still work down here?” Lyra asked incredulously.

“Sometimes,” the yellow mare replied. “But I’m usually alone, and they know not to bother me.”

“But they still attacked us!” Lyra protested.

“Yeah...” Six shot her a glance, “Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you never shut up?”

“Oh, sod off!” Lyra huffed angrily. “Anyway, can you blame me for asking questions? I feel that’s all I’ve done since I got here, and despite that I still have no idea how I’m going to rescue Parchment, let alone get home.”

“Parchment?” Six thought for a moment, “Oh, right, the ‘other’ unicorn you mentioned.” She shrugged, turning to face a table that had her clothes and packs laid out on its metal top. “I’d forget him if I were you,” she suggested. “If he’s not dead then he soon will be. Tainted go in, Lyra. They don’t come out.” Her expression darkened, “Believe me.”

Lyra shook her head. “No… No I can’t believe that. I won’t! That kid was under my supervision, Six, I can’t believe he’s been taken by monsters and killed just for being a unicorn for bucks sake. It’s too mad to be true. More than that, it’s completely insane!”

“After everything you’ve seen, how can you still think that?” It was Six’s turn to look shocked. “How can any pony be so blind to the truth? Does all that magic make you wilfully ignorant or something?”

“I’m trying to be optimistic!” Lyra snapped.

“Lode’s balls!” Six slapped a hoof down on the table making Lyra jump. “Look around you, girl! Do you see anything here to be ‘optimistic’ about? All we do here is survive, and just barely at that. If you live ‘til you’re thirty then you’re considered either incredibly lucky or ‘next in line for the chop’. Those poor bastards who live on the archipelago have it even worse. Most of them barely make twenty without drowning, being eaten by sea monsters, or dying of weird diseases.” She leaned forward, her eyes boring into Lyra’s, “We don’t belong here, Lyra. None of us do, maybe not even the zeks. I don’t know. All I do know is that the island is a hostile place to live, and if you want to survive you need to keep your wits about you all the time.”

“An existence based solely on survival?” Lyra slumped down and stared into her mug, “That’s not living...”

“No? Well it’s better than the alternative, that’s all I can say.” Six gave herself a shake, “Now then, let’s stop talking about miserable things, you’re spoiling my mood.” She nodded towards the open door, “Go through there, up the stairs, and it’s the first door on the right. The showers are straight ahead through the mess hall. I’ve covered the windows so nopony will see the lights are on.” She raised an eyebrow, “Don’t wander off.”

“Why, do you think the bogeymare will get me?” Lyra had meant it as a joke but Six just glowered at her.

“There are worse things in the dark...”

Lyra’ blood froze, her eyes going wide, “What are-”

Six let out a loud sniff. It may have been a sign of mirth or, as Lyra suspected, her usual derisive self. “Just do what I told you and you won’t put a hoof wrong,” Six asserted. “I’m not your keeper, Lyra, but I won’t put my life at risk to help you if you get caught. Remember that… ‘magic girl’.”

“Gee, thanks!” Lyra got up and shook out her blanket. “You’re a real comfort, Six, you know that?”

Six didn’t bother to reply until Lyra reached the door, “There’s soap in the dish and clean towels on the rail for you to use. Make sure you put them back when you’re done.”

The green mare rolled her eyes, “Yes, mum.”

If there was one thing to be said about these zeks, it was that they sure knew how to work with metal. Virtually everything in the place was made with it. Steel gleamed everywhere from the ceiling to the floor. The railings, the steps, the doors – every square inch of the ship’s interior was constructed from the exact same material with few exceptions. Lyra had never seen so much of it in one place. Sure, she’d heard of steamships in Equestria before, in fact they were becoming fairly commonplace and would likely supplant the wooden hulled ships eventually. But this… this was on a different level altogether. More than that was the very fact that the vessel’s age suggested the zeks were far more advanced than her own equine civilisation. This would explain to some degree the dynamics of the local populace too. The zeks were all but worshipped from what Six had said, despite the fact that as far as Lyra could tell, Equestria was not all that far behind them technologically speaking. Then there was the fact that ponies had magic, something that the zeks it appeared, did not. There could be some reason for this. Lyra was well aware of how replete equestrian history was with examples of what happened when a society with a higher level of technological advancement ran into another. The less ‘developed’ peoples had a tendency to be dominated, either by assimilation into the newer culture, or else simply crushed underhoof. The end result was effectively the same. Interestingly this had been one of the overriding reasons for the near constant wars with the northern yaks. That race of large, and eternally angry bovines, had enjoyed great successes militarily speaking, and achieved an empire very early in their peoples’ development. The ‘Horde’, as it came to be known, conquered vast swathes of Equestria, Llamalia, and even the Griffin Kingdom. Without, history tells us, much in the way of effective opposition. As many could have predicted however, with the exception perhaps of the yaks themselves, overreach, lack of infrastructure or effective governance meant that the yaks were unable to retain the lands they had previously steamrollered through. Harried by attacks from increasingly motivated raiders from the conquered provinces, constantly falling back on what was left of their damaged supply lines and a general waning of interest in expansion, gradually lead to the great Yak Yakistani Empire ending up a mere footnote in the history books. Since then the yaks have remained mired in their memories of past achievements and live to this very day virtually the same as they had done back during those heady days of empire. Mostly the yaks leaders are quite happy to stay in their snowy home: drinking, feasting, and singing songs of past deeds, even if they were hundreds of years ago. Sometimes however, a leader would come along who was a little more… ‘enthusiastic’ about the old tales, evoking not only feelings of nostalgia, but also thoughts along the lines of ‘we could do it again’. These sentiments, coupled with a feeling of being threatened by the advancements made in neighbouring Equestria, the yaks would occasionally rekindle their past fervour for war and make sporadic forays across the border to rob small villages and farms. The border forts were generally considered enough of a deterrent to keep them out for the most part, but not always. Finally, Celestia had met with the yakistani ‘emperor’ and come to ‘an understanding’. Whatever that meant. Since that time Equestria has been at peace. And long may it continue. These zeks on other hoof had come to a very different kind of ‘understanding’ with their equine neighbours.

Clong. Clong. Clong.

Lyra’s hoofsteps resounded on the metal steps making her ears twitch. Each step felt painfully loud in the curious silence. Up here she could no longer hear the waves nor the sound of the wind outside. The weather too, it seemed to her, had settled in for the night.

Creak.

The large oval door opened with little difficulty. The noise of the hinges however, made her teeth grate. On reflex she froze, cocking one ear… and listened. Nothing. No squeaking, no enraged fluttering, just the sound of her own breathing and the steady, rhythmic beating of her heart. Up here the slight tilt to the floor was more noticeable than it had been downstairs. It was only tiny, but it was there, reminding her of the fact the she was inside something that had once sailed across the oceans of the world – and perhaps not even this one. Everywhere she looked was evidence that this was no equestrian construction. Six had told her this was the ship’s ‘mess hall’, although it looked surprisingly tidy despite its peculiar name. There were tables, metal of course, bolted to the floor with long benches similarly bolted into place. Were the zeks all one size, or did the designers simply assume that the sailors would be able to ‘make do’? Probably the latter, Lyra thought absently as she marvelled at the racks of plates and cups, it makes the most sense. Then there was the cutlery, the small knives, forks and spoons so reminiscent of those used by ponies. Judging by what she’d seen so far though, the zeks were more than capable of ‘handling’ things quite well without magic of any sort. This and many other thoughts began to bubble up in the green mare’s naturally inquisitive mind. There was so much to see here! Lyra’s imagination, unlike the great engine down in the stern of the ship below her, slowly began to thrum into life. There were mugs with small handles, books in that strange language which was both familiar and so alien, and then there were the clothes – oh, the clothes! Hats, coats, trousers, shoes… and what shoes! A lot of ponies wore clothes of one sort or another, particularly for formal occasions, but the cut of these was made for anything but a four legged creature. The trousers, made of some shiny, water repellent material, were straight up and down with no allowance for a tail either. Now that was interesting.

Something unexpectedly moved under her hoof as she glided it idly along the counter-top in front of the serving hatch. It was clearly a magazine, an old one too, bearing a damp, musty smell of ancient paper which made her nose wrinkle. The scent reminded her of sunny days in her grandfathers’ shed where she’d played as a foal. He’d kept all sorts of rubbish in there: old wheels barrows, pumps, garden tools and so on. Much of it was left over from his own fathers’ time, and it was doubtful her grandfather even knew the half of what lay beneath the aeons of dust and cobwebs in those dark corners. Lyra, however, had loved it. She’d often been told it was this kind of exploration which had lead her to career in archaeology. Her cutie mark though, along with her love for music, had dictated otherwise. Still, you could have more than one interest couldn’t you? Bon Bon was always telling her that. She smiled wistfully. How would she be coping with Lyra’s disappearance? Or maybe… maybe she wasn’t. With her bloody minded moodiness of late she might not have even noticed! But then… no, she was being too harsh. Bonnie wasn’t expecting her home for another few days, however it was quite likely somepony would have already dispatched a pegasus to tell her the news by now. Twilight Sparkle was certainly the type who wouldn’t overlook something as fundamental as that. But then what would the message actually say? That her friend had… what, ‘disappeared’? Been ‘blown up’? Hell, maybe they wouldn’t even bother to do that! She snorted under her breath and pushed the unpleasant cacophony of worries aside as she moved the magazine up to the light.

“Zeks...” Lyra breathed. “So that’s what you look like.”

And there was one of them, a drawing actually, staring back at her from the cover with an expression that displayed so much emotion it made her heart ache. Despite the alien face, the creature, this… ‘zek’, seemed… sad… lost even. The creature was wearing a bowl shaped hat with a large cross on the front beneath some more of their odd language. Lyra tried to sound out the letters, using the limited knowledge from her book on humans.

“F… No, that’s not it… ‘Pull’?” She screwed up her face, “‘Pull quickly?’ Damn it, that can’t be right...” Hurriedly, Lyra pulled off her panniers and swung them up onto the counter top. She could remember most of what Hidden Path had written down, but this was no magical guide to understanding their language. So much of it was unknown, or else speculation, that she suspected a lot was simply pure guesswork. But here, here in her hooves, was something she could never have dreamed of! There was more inside the magazine of course, but she could read that later, once she’d… “Hang on...” Lyra’s eyes narrowed and then went wide. “My book!” Her heart leaped into her throat, “Where… Where is it?!” Her hooves scrambled desperately at her pack, the pack that never left her side, the pack that… that had a large slit cut in the side… the side where the arbalest had dug its claws into her. “Oh, no...” Lyra looked up in horror as realisation dawned. “Those bastards,” she croaked. “Those damned bastard things. They stole my book!” Anger pulsed through her now, red hot and adding strength to her exhausted body. She had to get it back. That was all there was to it really. She would simply need to go downstairs, open the door to the hold, and see if the book was there. The arbalests wouldn’t have stolen it, right? After all they were just looking for food, it wasn’t like they could eat a book, so they must have left it where it had fallen. But… what if they’d… surely they wouldn’t have... NO! Damn it all she couldn’t hang around here when anything could be happening to her precious tome. She had to go now!

The shower forgotten, Lyra grabbed the magazine and stuffed it into her pack before throwing it over her back. She took a breath, gritted her teeth, and broke into a run. Her hooves were a blur as she charged for the open door, her destination already set in her mind. In one impressive bound she was over the threshold and onto the narrow landing. It was only the hand rail that prevented a terrifying plunge down the steel stairway and the risk of a broken leg, or worse. In fact if she hadn’t paused to settle her racing heart after such a narrow escape she probably would never have heard the giggling coming from above her.

“Don’t!” The faint voice didn’t exactly sound too serious in their rebuttal, whoever they were.

More chuckling followed. Lyra hesitated, staring down the stairs. She really wanted her book, but upstairs… Who was that? It sounded like Six, and another she couldn’t quite make out.

“Oooh, yeah…” Laughter this time, followed by a sultry moaning. “Just… Mmm… Okay, but you know we shouldn’t...”

Before she knew it, Lyra was halfway up the stairs to the next landing. The lights were out here, but just ahead a door stood open, just an inch or so, but it allowed light to spill out from within. Lyra swallowed. She had the distinct impression that the enigmatic Six wasn’t as alone as she’d claimed. Those voices when she’d woken up, the voices Six had tried to pass off as being merely a figment of her imagination, came back to the forefront of her mind. The closer she got the clearer they became.

“Because she might… Oh, Lode, yes!”

It was definitely Six. Lyra was certain of that. There was no mistaking that oddly unaccented voice of hers even through a narrow gap in the door. She’d heard the yellow mare when she’d been angry, she’d heard her when she was irritated and frustrated - which was most of time apparently - but this… this was at the other end of the spectrum altogether. Not only that, but the sounds: the slapping, the grunting, the gasps, and… and the moaning! Lyra swallowed. To her shame she looked down at her hooves – she was trembling. She was actually trembling! Without any conscious input from herself, her body had taken her up the last flight of stairs and now she found herself standing there with her muzzle pressed up against the gap, her eyes soaking in the scene before her. And it wasn’t hard to work out what was going on either. Despite the shadows and the fact that what was happening was going on in the room beyond the one with the door to the landing, Lyra’s yellow eyed gaze could see more than enough. She could see legs. Yes, definitely legs, but with strange appendages on the ends that looked similar to a monkey’s. Or was that an ape? Above that was a familiar looking tail, attached to which was a familiar yellow rump with a small yellow flower cutie mark – the whole of which was bobbing up and down in time to the – Lyra swallowed – to the sounds. Six, it seemed, was enjoying herself quite thoroughly too.

Lyra’s cheeks were burning, her face pushing uncomfortably into the gap as she tried to get a better view. If she was quiet, if she could open it a little more she could… Wait… Why was she doing this again? Suddenly the ice cold bucket of water known as ‘realisation’ washed over her, mercilessly dousing the fires of her libido quite thoroughly. What the hell was she doing?! It was obvious there was somepony else in there with Six, somepony she clearly wanted to keep secret from Lyra too, but this? What Lyra was drooling over as she stood gawking from the doorway was something private. Very private. And also very, very… hot. What the male was doing to Six, the way he was…

The cry of unleashed passion made her jump.

“Mmm, I know, but I’d better go and check on her.”

Lyra couldn’t hear the male, but-

“Yeah, she’ll have probably finished by now. I’ll go and grab a shower myself before I get the tea on.” There was a sound of kissing, and then hooves on carpet. “See you in a bit, love.”

Another voice answered, and then-

“Oh, shit!” Lyra suddenly realised that Six, now sporting a beaming grin, was heading right for her. Quick as a flash she looked around, desperately trying to find somewhere to hide.

The door opened.

Whistling a merry tune, Six trotted onto the landing and headed down the stairs, passing the landing with the mess hall and showers, and continued onward to the engine room. She never saw the shadowed mare pressed up against the wall behind the fire hose. Nor, in fact, did she hear the strangled gasp of air as Lyra let out the breath she’d been holding in.

“Oh, thank the goddess!” Lyra pressed her hoof to her heart, feeling it pounding deep within. That was wya too close for comfort! She listened, satisfied she was safe to move, and then took a step forward. With one hoof on the downward step, whether it was the sound of paper or no more than her damnably insatiable curiosity, Lyra… paused. Slowly, carefully, she turned and as quiet as a shadow slipped up to the doorway once more. Six had left it half open just enough for a pony, a slim one granted, to sneak through. Not that Lyra intended to go in of course, but…

Paper. The sound of a piece of paper. But not any old paper! Her ears pricked up. She’d recognise the sound of that page turning anywhere! She stared into the artificial light, towards the fireplace which had a small amount of coal burning away and throwing a warm light into the room. She could see the back of the red velvet armchair, and… the book. Her book. Something was reading it! Or rather, some pony.

The page turned.

“Are you going to come in or keep lurking in the shadows?”

It was the male. Well, of course it was the male, right? After all, there was only Six and… and… and whoever this was. Oh gods, was he dressed?!

“Well?”

Lyra swallowed. “I’m… I’m quite alright staying here, thank you.” She couldn’t believe how dry her throat was right then. Why the hell hadn’t she just kept her damned muzzle to herself and had a shower? WHY?!

“As you wish,” came the voice again. He sounded quite… well, normal really. There was a definite accent to his voice, one that was characteristic of foreigners who had learned Equestrian as a second language. Still, he was fairly fluent. Lyra could see an appendage, another one, like the one she’d seen earlier, only with longer toes… or was that fingers? Yes! Monkey-like fingers, turning the page of-

“It’s really quite an interesting read,” the voice said absently. “Once you get past all the speculation and conjecture. Hidden path was quite the little detective. Some of it’s so far out there it makes us look like we’re from outer space or some such crazy garbage, but hey, to think they know anything about us at all we may as well be. Christ almighty, I thought you guys were aliens when I first got here!” He chuckled under his breath before letting out a resigned sigh. “I guess we all are now.”

Lyra closed her eyes, “Are you… Are you a... Zek?”

“A Zek?” The male snorted derisively, “Those fucking things?” Lyra couldn’t see very well, but she had the impression he was shaking his head. “No. No, I haven’t descended to that level just yet.” He lifted a shadowed hand making a circling motion as he uttered a mirthless laugh, “Not yet...” The seated figure paused, “Do you know what they are, Miss Heartstrings? Or may I call you Lyra?”

The green mare felt a shiver run down her spine, “No! I mean, yes, yes you can.”

“That’s cool,” came the reply. “Anyway, no, I’m not a ‘zek’. The locals, if you can even call them that, named the first arrivals ‘zeks’ as it was the most common word they used to describe themselves - so far as anyone can recall. Ha! Not that they care to.” His voice lowered an octave, “The ship they came here on was a prisoner transport.” Lyra could sense the bitterness in his voice as he rumbled, “Believe it or not the ponies on this island are held in thrall to the descendants of those very same prisoners. The ‘prisoners of prisoners’ if you like. I’d laugh if it wasn’t so god damned tragic.”

“But… But where are they from?” Lyra breathed.

“The zeks? From my world I’m sorry to say,” the male said sadly.

“Your... world?” Lyra found herself staring at the carpet, her heart thundering in her chest. She tried to mouth the words but her tongue had all but stuck itself to the roof of her mouth, “Are you… That is I mean to say, are you a… a...”

“I think you’re trying to ask if I’m human?” He began to laugh, “I’m afraid so. Although sometimes I wonder if I really am. This place does stuff to a guy you wouldn’t believe.” The shadow rose, the form moving, coalescing in the flickering firelight as it rose up on two legs. Celestia’s grace, it was so tall! It turned to face her. It... he… turned to lock eyes with her. Lyra found herself staring helpless at the creature in open mouthed astonishment. She couldn’t believe it. This couldn’t be happening! It… It was the creature from the magazine cover! Only this one was no mere black and white line drawing. This one was real, with pale skin, small brown eyes, a straggly beard, and was wearing a towel. “Ha! Where are my manners,” the male said suddenly. “Let me get you a drink...”

The human, or whatever it was, bent down to the table beside where he’d been sitting, “Here we go.” Long pink digits began to pull out the cork stopper as Lyra’s eyes soaked in his every move, consigning every image, every sound, to memory. “There’s a limited supply left on board now, but it’s good stuff, straight from the old captain’s personal stash.” He began to pour, “I doubt he’d mind now, poor slug.” A generous measure sloshed into the gleaming glass. “Rum, at least I think it is, the label fell off god knows how long ago.” As he turned to face her he straightened to his full height, the glass outstretched. “Here you go, Miss. My name’s-”

The towel slipped to floor.

Two pairs of eyes followed its path, alighting on...

“Whoops...”

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

“...and you were just sat there, bare arsed and naked to the world.”

“I was wearing a towel, Celly, it’s not like I was totally naked.”

“Yeah? You may as well have been! You don’t have fur, remember? Anyway, why in the world would you be sitting here in the nude, reading a-”

“Because I was planning to take a shower when you and your green pal had finished in there!” the male voice retorted, sounding a little irritated now. He leaned down, “How the hell did I know she’d be sneaking around up here?”

Six huffed, “I told her not to.”

“And you just took her at her word that she wouldn’t go off on her own for a nose about, did you?”

“Why not?” Six replied tartly. “The kid stank like a week old turd and was desperate for a shower.” Six sighed resignedly, her ears drooping. She was about to say something else when she noticed movement. “Oh, hang about, she’s coming round. Quick, bugger off until she’s-”

“Six?” Lyra groaned, looking up into the eyes of the familiar yellow mare. “Celestia’s mercy, did I pass out again?”

“Seems to be a bit of a habit of yours,” Six smirked cheekily, waving the male out of the room. “You’re like one of them goats that passes out whenever something startles them.”

“Huh! Yeah, I’m sure I am.” The green mare gradually sat up and looked around at the cabin’s interior. “I’m still here…” Suddenly her eyes went wide, “Is it still here too?”

“By ‘it’ I presume you mean me, right?” From the other side of the room the zek, human, or whatever the two legged creature was, spoke to her from the very same armchair he’d been sat in when she’d first seen it – ‘him’, rather. “Can we talk now,” he continued, “or are you going to scream and faint like you did before?”

Six rolled her eyes and patted Lyra’s shoulder, “You don’t need to worry, girl, he’s covered himself up now.” She shot the male a look, “Haven’t you… ‘dear’?”

The two legged creature raised an eyebrow, “Apparently I have.” And then, much to Lyra’s surprise, the creature stood and bowed. “Ma’am, please allow me to introduce myself.” The brass buttons on the creature’s smart blue uniform twinkled like golden stars, dancing across Lyra’s vision, “My name’s Blue, or at least that’s what Celandine calls me.”

Lyra blinked in surprise, “Celandine?”

Six grinned bitterly, “My real name. The name my mother gave me... in secret.”

She turned slightly to show Lyra her flank. It was a bunch of small, eight petalled golden flowers with slim green stalks. Lyra felt a lump come to her throat. Celandine… a pretty name for a mare with a cutie mark that back home may very well have lead to a life in botany, flower arranging, gardening, or any other horticultural career she may have chosen. It was doubtful fate intended for her to be scouring dangerous old wrecks full of monsters for worthless scrap. Here she would work until she was too old or sick to carry on, and then would be sent out into the forest to be torn apart by different monsters. She peered into those big green eyes. They full of sadness, but also tinged with something else, something that Lyra had picked up on only now and again but was nevertheless still there - Hope.

“That’s your secret now too,” Six, or rather ‘Celandine’ said levelly. “You tell anypony and I’ll turn you over faster than you can-”

“Celly!” The two legged creature thumped his glass down on the table, his voice clearly displaying his displeasure. “For Christ’s sake, woman, can’t you see the predicament she’s in? Not to mention us! You turn her in and we’ll all be up to our balls in shit.”

“Woman?” Lyra looked from Blue to Celandine and back again.

“He calls me that when he’s feeling cranky,” Celandine said a little sarcastically. “I think he forgets where he is sometimes. Probably a touch of senility, but you know how boys get when they start ageing.”

“Can it, you!” Blue snapped.

“See what I mean?” Celandine stuck out her tongue at him, “He needs to know his place, don’t you dear?”

The two legged creature rolled his eyes now. “You see what I have to live with?” he said, shrugging his shoulders at Lyra. “One mare was a handful, and now I’ve got two of you.” He pulled his chair into the light, treating Lyra to a full view of the oddly bald, and yet still hairy, ape-like thing. “I expect you’ve got questions, Lyra, and I’ll be more than happy to answer them if I can,” Blue continued. “However I hope you’ll indulge me by answering some of mine first. Deal?”

Lyra Heartstrings stood looking at the creature, the being who up until now had existed only in the crazed imaginations of ponies like the maverick author Hidden Path. Lyra had always believed they’d existed herself, or rather she’d fantasised that they had. But to actually see one, to be stood here before one… It didn’t seem possible! And yet despite all the denials of the authorities, despite all the attempts to cover up even the merest possibility that humans had existed on Equestria, here he was. What in the world was she going to say to him?! It was an archaeologists dream come true, but one that she was completely unprepared for. All she could do for now was nod, agree to answer his questions, and quietly formulate some of her own for later. Oh, how she wished she’d bought that bloody magical dictaphone she’d seen in the July copy of ‘Trowels and Shovels’! Blast it, she could have had ten percent off for being a signed up member of the guild too.

“Lyra?”

“Oh!” Lyra cleared her throat, taking the drink Celandine was offering her. “Sure, why not.”

Blue smiled, clearly relieved that she’d agreed. And with that the three of them moved up to sit nearer the fireplace and made themselves comfortable.

Lyra looked around her at the cabin. There were proper curtains at the portholes here, some paintings on the walls of sailing ships, a desk, chairs, and a well made bed to one side. All in all it looked very well appointed. “Are you the captain?” she asked.

Blue shook his head, “No, but you may like to think of me as ‘acting captain’, if you like. I’m the only officer on board anyway, so I guess that makes me captain by default.” He chuckled, “In a way.”

“Number one in a field of one,” Celandine chipped in.

Lyra nodded. “So, what do you want to know?”

Blue and Celandine glanced at one another, and then the questions began. They weren’t too intrusive for the most part, and certainly polite in the way they were put. Drinks were shared, and there were breaks for the toilet or to enjoy a few snacks too. It was in fact extremely cordial, but they also had an unforeseen side effect – the very form the questions took told Lyra just as much about her hosts as they discovered about her. For example it was quite clear they were all here completely by chance, with perhaps the exception being Celandine. She had been born here like the rest of the equine population, but her ancestors had undoubtedly come from Equestria. They too had been unceremoniously deposited here, and by the looks of things, Lyra and Parchment had been the last ones in hundreds of years to appear from the forest portal. In all likelihood, Lyra suspected, since Galeus’ tower had been destroyed. In which case it was more likely to be thousands rather than hundreds of years since the portal had last transported a living creature. In any case it was doubtful anypony was bothering to keep count.

“I can’t say I’ve head anything about this Galeus character, other than what Celly’s told me.” Blue leaned back in his chair and took out a cigarette, “From what you’ve told me, and what little I know already, she sounds like a class ‘A’ asshole.”

Lyra nodded, unable to disagree with the male’s assessment, “History credits her with creating the portal network.” She caught Celandine’s gaze, “It was generally thought that she’d used volunteers to test her hypotheses, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Hmm, a crazy scientist sending ‘volunteers’ on a one way trip through untested magical portals?” Blue laughed, “You know, I doubt anyone in their right mind would believe that. If you ask me this Galeus of yours was a psychopath.”

“I’m guessing they’re not just limited to Equestria then?” Lyra asked a little flippantly.

“Damned straight!” Blue flopped back in his chair, “My pop fought those bastards in the first one, but I was considered ‘too young’ to fight in the second. Ha! Just my luck. First flight out and I end up here, busted up and half dead.” He growled under his breath and knocked back his rum, “The war was over before I knew it. Never even got to fire a shot at those damned rats either.”

Celandine interrupted Lyra’s impending question, “And it doesn’t work any more you said?”

“Huh?” Lyra had a double take before fixing her eyes on Celandine, “Um, no, or at least I doubt it. Like I told you, they’d strapped explosives to the portal and blew it up right after I fell into the damned thing.” She shrugged, “I suppose it’s possible it survived, but I doubt it.”

“But it could have,” the yellow mare pressed. “You could have been mistaken, right?”

“I think my burned arse might disagree with you there,” Lyra replied. “Anyway, if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, then you may be in for a disappointment.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” Blue asked.

Lyra shook her head, trying to make them understand. “I know about as much about portals as I do about ships, which is… well, I don’t need to say it, do I?”

“But you’re a unicorn!” Celandine exclaimed.

“So?” Lyra sighed, rubbing her eyes. “Look, just because I can use magic doesn’t mean I’m some great mage or something. Goddesses, all I use it for is basic object manipulation, playing instruments, and-”

“You made that shield out of thin air,” Celandine cut in. “I saw it, Lyra – on the beach?”

“A shield I use to stop arseholes throwing bottles at me at gigs!” Lyra took a breath, feeling her temper simmering. “Anyway, look, even if I did know how to use a portal, which I don’t, the forest is crawling with those murderous killing machines. Your pegasi pals are trying to catch me too remember, and if all of that isn’t enough for you, the damned thing’s probably a pile of dust now anyway.” She leaned forward, making sure she had Celandine’s full attention. “Believe me, girl, I want out of this bucking hell hole just as much as you do. If I thought for a second there was even the remotest chance that portal may still be working I’d be through it in a heartbeat, but no matter how much you or I might wish it to be the case, I can’t pull miracles out of my arse, got it?”

There was a long pregnant pause before Celandine broke the silence with, “So, you’re just going to give up then are you? Just like that, you’re giving up on finding a way home?”

“Gods above!” Lyra’s hooves banged on the arms of her chair, “Can you see any wings here, mare? I mean, do I look like some bastard alicorn to you?! Luna buck me, how many times do I have to-”

“STOP IT!” Blue’s booming voice made both of the mares jump in alarm. “Jesus Christ, enough already!” He closed his eyes and hung his head. “Lyra, Celly, please, this isn’t getting us anywhere.” He turned to Celandine, “If Lyra could use the portal to get home then I’m sure she would be willing to try it again, and she would also understand that we would help her in that endeavour in any way we could. Right?” Celandine’s eyes looked downcast. “Right then,” Blue continued. “So as it stands we’re all in the same boat.” He smiled wryly, “Figuratively as well as literally.” Turning to face Lyra he shrugged his shoulders, “At least until we can find some other way to get you home, Lyra.”

“And what about you?” Lyra asked.

The smile froze on Blue’s face, his eyes looking not so much at her, but beyond her, far into a world that she knew nothing about. “Let’s take one thing at a time, eh?” The male closed his eyes and took a deep breath, casting a quick glance at Celandine. Whatever passed between the two of them in that brief moment said more than words ever could. Lyra felt she’d put her hoof right in it this time, and decided to change the subject quickly.

“Um, so, may I ask you something now?” Lyra asked.

Blue nodded, walking over to the mantelpiece where he stood and peered into the flames. “A deal’s a deal, Lyra. Shoot.”

“Shoot?” Lyra looked helplessly at Celandine who made a ‘hurry up’ motion with her hoof. “Oh, er, so, you’re a human then? A… A man, yes?”

“Believe it or not,” came the reply.

“You’re not from Equestria?”

“Hardly!”

“No, I mean, there’s not a colony of you guys here that we’ve never seen before?”

Blue shook his head, “I think you would have noticed if there were humans on your world, Lyra.” He thought for a moment, “Well, not unless there’s some living there in some out of the way place. There’s a few scattered tribes living in the jungles and deserts on my world who’ve never advanced much in thousands of years, and barely ever had any outside contact with the rest of civilisation. So, in answer to your question: there may be, but if there are I wouldn’t have a clue.”

Lyra wasn’t sure what to make of that. Blue’s response was both encouraging and disappointing in equal measure. She shouldn’t have been surprised of course. From what she’d seen and heard, Blue was just as much a castaway as she was. He was hardly the oracle of all knowledge and wisdom regarding humans, but that wouldn’t stop her from finding out as much as she could about him and his world. First things first though...

“How did you get here then?” Lyra asked. “If there’s something you can tell us, maybe we can put our heads together and work out how to get back.”

“I doubt I can tell you anything of any use,” Blue replied. His shoulders sagged as he continued, “As far as I know I came here the same way as everyone else did – with the exception of our equine population. In a nutshell I was flying on a routine training mission when everything went to hell in a hand basket.” Blue smiled grimly as he recalled events which had lead him to be here, standing in the rusting hulk of a ship which, ironically, was from his own world. “We ran into bad weather, our instruments going haywire, and to add to that our flight leader didn’t seem to know where the hell we were even before the shit hit the fan. Some of the boys wanted to head west and keep going until we saw land, but all we could see was fog and sea. By that point our compass was on the fritz too, so taking a bearing was impossible.” He shivered, taking a drink from Celandine with a weary smile. She’d obviously heard the tale before. “We were running low on fuel and planning to ditch in the water. We were down to fumes when the sky lit up like all the searchlights in the world had turned on, pointing right at us.”

Lyra was on the edge of her seat. Even if she couldn’t fully understand much of what Blue was saying, she was still able to catch the gist of it.

“After that there was this silvery glow bathing everything. The plane seemed to stop in mid-air, and the wind...” He shivered, “The wind just… stopped. Then, just when we were beginning to wonder what the hell was going on, the engine cut out.” He shook his head, “I don’t remember much after that.”

Celandine took up the story, “I was out combing the wrecks when the storm began. I wasn’t able to get back in time so I took cover in one of the older hulks up on the higher dunes. I remember hearing this sound, like rumbling – mechanical, and not at all like the sounds of a natural storm.” Her eyes met Blue’s, “And then I saw them – five big blue metal birds, flying down, out of the storm and towards the cliffs.”

“Flying?” Lyra asked.

“More ‘falling’ really,” Celandine explained.

“And that’s where you found Blue?” Lyra asked.

“Not quite,” Celandine replied. “The Seekers combed the crash site before I got there, but the humans were all dead. I decided to go back the next day after they’d left to see what I could salvage. That’s when I found this guy wrapped up in a big white sheet, hanging from a tree.”

“The Seekers had missed him,” Lyra said quietly.

“In that storm I’m not surprised,” Celandine replied. “They could hardly fly at all in those winds and got the hell out of there as soon as they could. Any longer and the chocks would have been all over the place. The only reason Blue wasn’t on the menu was because he was out of their reach. The poor bugger was half dead by the time I got to him anyway. It looked like something had hit him hard on the head, and when he came to a few days later he’d forgotten most of who he was and where he was from.”

The man shook his head and took another cigarette, “You’re right there. I don’t even know my own name. Christ almighty, can you believe that?”

“But… you know you’re a captain though, right?” Lyra looked confused. “And you remember how you came here.”

“A captain? Who knows? I can remember bits and pieces, Lyra, that’s all,” Blue sighed. “Sometimes I dream at night about things, people, places… that sort of thing. But whether it’s real or not, I don’t know. All I can say with any certainty is that I woke up with a talking horse tending to my injuries. Ha! I thought I’d really gone nuts!”

Celandine didn’t seem surprised by Blue’s reference to ‘talking horses’, and so Lyra decided not to bring the matter up. It was clear that the ponies here must have developed their own culture independently to the rest of Equestria, their ancestral homeland’s way of life slowly fading from memory and then into myth as the centuries passed. What was particularly worrying was that she knew nothing of their societal norms, particularly when it came to taboos. Indeed, she could have gravely insulted Celandine a hundred times already and been completely ignorant of the fact. She’d have to tread carefully. “Do either of you know where we are?” she asked. “I mean, are we even in Equestria?”

“Was that a rhetorical question?” Celandine chipped in.

“I wasn’t being flippant,” Lyra retorted, noting the yellow mare’s sarcastic tone. “I’m guessing we are, as the portal is definitely Equestrian made.”

“I’m not sure that proves anything,” Celandine snorted. “If we were in Equestria, how come nopony has ever found us, eh?”

“Because,” Lyra said getting to her hooves, “we’re nowhere near the Equestrian mainland.” With a flourish she moved the curtain aside, pointing to the dark night sky. “Unless I’ve forgotten my dad’s astronomy lessons when I was a filly, the constellations here are the same as in his travel journals.” She turned to look out into the gathering night. “He spent a lot of time in the southern hemisphere and I remember looking at the star patterns in his books.” She pointed up at one she recognised, “There, that one’s known as the Great Goose. That one, the one that looks like a great bear? That’s the Dancing Ursan. That one’s Sombra’s Blade, and beside that Star Swirl’s Beard.” She turned to find the two of them looking at her intently. “Uhm… okay?”

Celandine stared at Lyra, exchanged another look with Blue, and then licked her lips nervously. “We’re in Equestria?”

“Well, we’re on the same planet, yes,” Lyra replied, sensing the atmosphere shifting. “Unless there’s another world out there with the same stars. Maybe...” A sudden flush of cold realisation flooded through her from muzzle to tail, “We’re on Blue’s world?”

“We aren’t” Blue said stiffly.

“How can you be sure?” Lyra asked.

Blue shook his head dismissively, “I had to learn to navigate by the stars when I was in training. I know my constellations, Lyra. There’s no stars like these on Earth.”

Earth… That must be what the humans call home, Lyra pondered. “But, this is a good thing, isn’t it?” Lyra smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “If we’re on Equestria, then all we need to do is head north and we’ll hit a landmass sooner or later. Hell, we may even come across one of the shipping lanes or-”

“Or be picked up by the Seekers,” Celandine announced. “Anypony who tries to leave the island is picked up and brought back. You don’t want to know what happens next.”

“What about the islanders?” Lyra countered. “They must have boats to go fishing, so if we could-”

“Forget it,” Celandine cut in. “They’re watched like hawks. The Seekers have a spotter on patrol every time they go out.”

“It’s a very well patrolled prison, Lyra,” Blue said grimly. “You don’t need walls here. The sea and those damned things in the jungle see to that.”

“And these Zeks are happy to stay here?” Lyra shook her head incredulously.

“Who knows?” Celandine replied. “They rarely set foot outside of their damned citadel. Adds to their whole ‘mystique’ I suppose.” She snorted a bitter laugh, “And those dickheads think they’re gods!”

“So what are they?” Lyra asked quietly. She looked at Blue, “Are they… humans?”

Blue closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “They were.” He poured them all another drink, “Whatever they are now, they’re sure as hell not human.”

“They’re not human any more?!” Lyra’s eyes went wide as the man’s words sank in, “I don’t understand. What happened to them?”

The human simply shrugged his shoulders, “Your guess is as good as mine, Lyra. When they get here the Seekers collect them and take them into the citadel. After that…” He tailed off.

“But you said the zeks don’t come out very often, right?”

Celandine nodded. “They don’t, but when they do, what comes out...” She looked at her human, her expressive eyes filled with sadness. “They’re not like Blue. None of them are.”

A long moment of silence passed between them. Lyra stared at her hooves, her mind a virtual mixing bowl of raging emotion and chaotic thoughts, the whole serving no purpose other than to plunge her into despair. “So, that’s it then is it?” the green mare said quietly. “We’re stuck here. You, me, the zeks, and all the other ponies. We just wait around until we either grow old and die or the seekers throw us to the wolves.” She shook her head, “Celestia buck me sideways, I never thought I’d end my days like this.”

“You’ve given up already?” Celandine asked sounding surprised. “Ha! You’ve barely arrived and-”

“And you have a way to get off this island do you?” Lyra lifted her head, her eyes locking onto the yellow mare with an angry glare. “You have some utterly amazing secret plan that involves a handy unicorn just popping up some day, right?” Celandine said nothing. “And there we have it,” Lyra snorted throwing her hooves up. “That was it, wasn’t it. You thought that all those far fetched hopes and dreams you’d cooked up had suddenly manifested right before your very eyes when this green unicorn came bumbling up to you out of the forest. What a shock that must have been!” Lyra gave a sarcastic sneer, “Well my dear Six, or Celandine, or whatever the hell your real name is, I must be such a terrible disappointment for you. But hey, if you need help picking things up or playing a nice little ditty whilst you scrabble about in piles of shit for those buckheads, then I’m yer gal!”

Celandine tossed her mane and rounded on Lyra. “At least I’m trying to do something about it!” she snapped. “I could have just left you to be killed or captured. But no, I risked my neck to save your worthless hide and put a roof over your head.”

“So you could use me to further your own ends, you mean!” Lyra retorted.

“Which also happen to be your ends too, aren’t they?” Celandine countered. “You want your friend back, and both of you want to get home, yes?” She didn’t give Lyra a chance to reply as she pressed on, “Well then, our goals are the same.”

“Are they?” Lyra snorted. “I don’t know, ‘Celly’. What I do know is that you’d happily hoof me over to your winged pals if I don’t perform like some trained monkey for you, you’ve made that perfectly clear! So far as I know I’m just some damned pawn in a perverse game of your making. Hell, for all I know I could hallucinating this whole insane situation!”

Celandine took a deep breath before replying, “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, come on!” Lyra felt like she was barely holding on to her sanity, and Celandine’s infuriatingly calm demeanour was making things a damned sight worse. “After everything that’s happened,” Lyra shouted, “do you really want me to spell it out for you?” She nodded towards Blue, “And what about him? Don’t you realise how fantastic this all is? And not in a good way for either! For bucks sake, mare, he’s a human! Gods almighty, look at him! Until a few hours ago they were only a myth, a story that impressionable idiots like me wanted to believe were real, but there he is! And… And he’s got a guitar...”

The soft notes of a well tuned string instrument began to flow around the two mares as soft as the finest eiderdown. Lyra didn’t recognise know the tune, but right then such trivial details didn’t matter. What did matter was that there, there in that drab, austere world, it was the most beautiful melody she’d ever heard in her life. As each of the sonorous notes reverberated in the old vessel, all of Lyra’s pent up fears, all her anxiety and stress, seemed to melt away into nothingness. This was a different kind of magic, something that even the greatest of mages down throughout the ages had failed to fully understand despite all their combined knowledge and wisdom. Within it was carried a power that could be brought forth by any who sought it, from the richest to the poorest, from the young or the old. The truly talented could use it to inspire, to draw out deeply hidden emotions in individuals, or even to stir timid hearts to valorous deeds. This music was from another world, yet here it ebbed and flowed like the tides upon the shore, slowly permeating the very fibres of Lyra’s being. It was music… that spoke to her. It was her element. Her special talent.

Nopony spoke.

Several minutes of this pure, raw sound filled the cabin until eventually the last note faded away into the silence. Blue watched the green mare before him. She was sat stock still, her face lifted and eyes closed with an expression of absolute rapture. He chuckled to himself and turned over the guitar. It was worn, the varnish badly cracked from years of living in hot, humid conditions. He’d done what he could to keep it in good order, but there was only so much you could do when your resources were limited. Whoever this had belonged to had left long ago, but they’d left behind them a drawer in their cabin full of sheet music, spare strings, and even a gramophone – albeit one that had seen much better days.

“Hey,” Blue asked with a smile, “you okay in there, Lyra?”

“Hmm…?” A pair of large yellow eyes slowly opened. “Um, yeah…” Her expression was so comically confused it brought a beaming grin to Blue’s face.

“Hah!” Celandine said, giving herself a shake. “It had that effect on me when I first heard it too.”

The green mare tossed her mane as she came back to her senses, “Was that… human music?”

“Well it’s hardly the cat’s is it?” Celandine rolled her eyes and sat back on the settee. “What other music is a human going to play, eh?”

“Oh, belt up!” Lyra snorted and slumped back down, letting her hind legs dangle. “You know what I meant, smart arse.” She looked to Blue who was still smiling.

“It’s a melody I picked up from one of the old ‘seventy eights’ in the same cabin I found the guitar,” Blue began. At Lyra’s uncomprehending expression he added, “Records?” Lyra nodded at that. Clearly there were such things in Equestria, and judging by Celandine’s frown they hadn’t been around at the time the ponies on the island had arrived.

“It must be your special talent,” Lyra said. Her eyes stared at the instrument. “May I?”

“Sure!” Blue handed over the guitar which was almost immediately enveloped in golden light. “Although I have to say, Lyra, that I’m no musician.”

“Pfff! Right!” Lyra waved off his reply as no more than modesty. “I bet you’ve got the cutie mark for it too, hidden under all those clothes of yours.”

Celandine and Blue exchanged a look. “Humans don’t have cutie marks,” Celandine said plainly.

Lyra shrugged, clearly more interested in the guitar. “My goddesses,” she murmured, “it’s almost the same as the ones we have back home. A little smaller maybe, but not by much.”

Blue’s eyes watched her intently. “Do you use your hooves to play?” he asked.

“Sometimes,” Lyra replied absently. “It depends. Mostly I use my magic to play while I use my hooves to hold the instrument. It gives me more control that way.” She closed her eyes for a second, and in an instant a pair of glowing, transparent hands materialised before her, holding the guitar. She smiled shyly for a moment and played a few experimental chords. “On a boat called memory, hail, ho! Hearts that long for the land...” Lyra shivered suddenly and stopped abruptly. “Sorry.”

“What for?” Blue asked in surprise. “That was amazing!” He lifted a hand, “Please, I’d love to hear more, Lyra.” He looked to Celandine, “Wouldn’t we, Celly?”

“Yes,” the yellow mare replied. “I’m sure we would.”

“You… um, you...” Lyra glanced at Celandine. The earth pony’s words didn’t exactly marry up with her facial expression, which was as stoic as usual, but right then she didn’t care. Blue had asked her to play, and for some reason she couldn’t put her hoof on, it was making her blush furiously. She cleared her throat and began...

Well away my love away, for we're sailing home today, on a boat called memory.

Hail ho! Hearts that long for the land.

Oh she's like some ancient queen, with her opal robes serene. In the lamplight shimmering.

Hail ho! Hearts that long for the land.

On a blue jay morning, feathering thorny memories, hail ho, hearts have been too long away.

On a well-worn byway travelling magpie gathering, farewell Queen of Waters.

As the song ended, Lyra looked down at the guitar in her lap and smiled nervously. “It’s a song I’ve been working on for a while now. I thought, you know, with our surroundings it seemed… appropriate.”

“It was indeed!” Blue laughed out loud, clapping his hands together in appreciation. “That was incredible, Lyra!” He nodded his head to the silent member of the trio, “Maybe you could teach Celly to play before you-”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, thank you.”

At the vehemence in Celandine’s voice, Lyra put down the guitar and looked from her to Blue in confusion, “Oh, uh, okay.”

“Oh, come on, love,” Blue said cheerily. “I know the island ponies don’t play, but you’ve got a golden opportunity here to-”

“If I wanted to learn to ‘play’ I would have asked you, wouldn’t I!” Celandine’s eyes flashed dangerously in the artificial light. “Some of us don’t have hands or magic, remember?”

A sideways glance at Lyra didn’t go unnoticed either, however if there was one thing that Lyra could always rely on it, it was her ability to detect changes in atmosphere. In this case Celandine was radiating barely contained anger which, whatever the reason for it, was going to boil over at any moment. She quickly decided on a change of tack.

“I remember you saying that ponies on the island don’t play music, Celandine,” Lyra said politely. “Is it a religious thing?”

“Religious?” The yellow mare snorted bitterly, “The only music our ‘masters’ like to hear is the sound of the plough cutting through the earth and the grunts of ponies bowing their backs under endless hours of labour. That, we’re told, is the real music of the world, the only true music you could ever need. Anything else is a blasphemy against the zeks.”

“So your people see them as gods?” Lyra asked.

“They’re no bucking gods!” Celandine snapped back.

“I know, you already sa-”

Anger filled eyes glared into Lyra’s, “You don’t know shit!” Celandine stood up, staring down her muzzle at the green mare. “You haven’t got a damned clue what life is like here, let alone what we have to do to survive from one minute to the next. Look at you, all soft coat and soft hooves. You haven’t done a days work in your whole bucking life!”

Lyra was taken aback by the unexpected verbal tirade, but managed a quick, “That’s bullshit!”

“Is it?” Celandine’s mouth curled into a sneer, “You turn up here just like that, get yourself into a pile of shit, and in the blink of an eye you’re all over Blue like a cheap suit!”

“What?!” Lyra couldn’t believe it. “You must be crazy to think-”

“I’m not blind, you sneaky little bitch!” Celandine leaned forward, “I saw the way you were looking at him; you were all but banging him with your eyes!” Her voice dropped to a snarl, “I know what’s going through your filthy mind.”

Blue took a step forward, trying to intervene, “For god’s sake, Celly, that’s enough!”

“Like fuck it is!” the yellow mare snarled. “I don’t trust her, and-”

The human’s voice roared, echoing throughout the silence of the old ship like a foghorn, “I SAID THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Under the blast of Blue’s searing retort, Celandine’s ears flattened as she cowered before him. Time seemed to slow as the beginnings of tears gleamed in her eyes, the young mare looking up at him as if he’d physically hit her. In a heartbeat it was all over. Celandine rose, managing to pull herself back together with impressive speed. “Is it now? That’s enough is it?” Once again her muzzle came up, those eyes of hers brim full of fathomless emotional turmoil, “Well, since you’re so willing to take her side,” she continued, “then there’s nothing more for me to say is there?” Her gaze shifted from Blue then back to Lyra. “I’ll leave you two to it then. I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of your blossoming romance.”

Lyra moved to say something but Blue put out a hand stopping her. As for Celandine, she tossed her mane and stalked out of the room leaving the two of them standing there like statues.

“What… the… actual… buck was all that about?!” Lyra’s heart was racing, her mouth as dry as the air in the cabin. “Goddesses almighty! I knew she was a bit odd, but I think I may have underestimated her. She’s absolutely bucking nuts!” She turned to face Blue who was still staring after his mare in stone faced silence, “Please tell me you saw that, yeah? I mean, she just went full on psycho at me for playing a bloody song!”

Blue didn’t move, his eyes watching the dim light of the doorway, “She’ll be alright.”

“She-?” Lyra shook her head. “Buddy, there’s a lot crazy shit going on around here, but if there’s one thing I can tell you without any doubt in my mind, it’s that our gal Celandine there is about as far from ‘alright’ as you can get!”

“I know,” came the stolid reply. “But it wouldn’t be fair of either us to expect you to understand, Lyra. This place… it does things to people. It changes them. It damages them - both mentally as well as physically.” He turned away with a sigh and walked back to the fireplace, putting some more coal into the fire. Lyra sat down on the chair behind him, but the comfort she’d enjoyed earlier was already long gone. No matter how hard she tried to avoid glancing back at the doorway, it was impossible. A part of her kept expecting Celandine to come back at any moment wielding a carving knife, looming above her ready to-

“Lyra?”

“Eeep!” The green mare nearly shot out of the chair in fright.

Blue paused, noting her discomfort, then brought over a glass of wine which he put on the table next to her, “Forgive her, please. What you saw just now isn’t the real Celly. That girl has been through hell. We both have I suppose, but more so her.”

Lyra wasn’t so sure that Blue was being totally objective. ‘Celly’ may have reasons as to why she was acting the way she was, but damaged goods were still damaged goods, and the yellow mare’s change in temperament was so sudden as to be terrifying. Still, Blue trusted her, and whether she liked it or not she was stuck here with the two of them. Besides, upsetting your only allies when you were at the mercy of this deadly place did not seem like such a good idea. She’d have to play along, at least for now, but the first chance she got she was getting the hell out of here – Parchment or no Parchment.

“What the hell happened here, Blue?” Lyra asked quietly. “I understand what you said about how you arrived, but there’s more to it isn’t there?”

Blue glanced at her, then back to his glass, swirling the blood red liquid. “There always is,” he said softly. “Celly… Celandine… has her ghosts the same as all of us. Life on the island is hard for her people, scraping an existence on the edge of the jungle, always wondering when the next attack from the chocks will take one of them away. Celly has told you about how they control the population, right?” Lyra nodded. “Yeah, well, that’s only the tip of the iceberg.”

“They use medicine to keep them in line,” Lyra added.

“She told you.” Blue shook his head, “There’s something fishy about that, and I don’t like it one little bit.”

“Too convenient, maybe?” Lyra asked.

“In the way that the ponies were on the island before the zeks arrived, yes,” Blue replied. “Some time after that some mysterious illness appears and the zeks are the only ones who just so happen to have a cure. Well, not so much a cure of course, more of a ‘treatment’.”

“And one that keeps you needing more,” Lyra shook her head.

“Exactly.” Blue took a sip of his wine, “It’s a catch twenty two, Lyra. The jungle covers most of the island, and its infested with those chock things. The rest is for crops and the zeks so-called ‘Citadel’. Even if the ponies left the island, and assuming the pegasi didn’t shoot them full of arrows first, they’d die when their supply of the medicine ran out.”

“Aren’t there any other ships out here?” Lyra asked. “I mean, the human vessels all seem to come ashore here, but there must be others out there, right? How come some don’t just sail off?”

“The storms throw them onto the island,” Blue replied simply. “There’s something, whatever the hell it is, I don’t know, that draws things here and dumps them like sacks of garbage: ships, planes, it doesn’t matter what it is, they all end up here once the storm grabs them.”

Something niggled at the back of Lyra’s head, and it wasn’t the expectation of a sudden attack by an enraged mare this time either. “Blue, just how long have you been on the island?”

“Me?” Blue sat up abruptly, his expression one of surprise at being asked such a simple, innocent question. “I...” He swallowed, “I don’t know.” The human glanced up at what was clearly a calender on the wall beside the large, round clock. “I stopped counting a long time ago. If I had to say, I’d estimate it at around eight to ten years give or take.”

Lyra’s heart sank. “And you tried to get off the island, right?” she asked. “After all, you don’t need the medicine do you? You’re a different species, so I would imagine you’d have some ideas for how to get out of here.”

“Oh, I did try,” Blue said with a sad smile. “After Celandine pulled me out of the tree and nursed me back to health I would wander off, for several days sometimes, mapping the island, keeping to the coastline and hiding whenever the pegasus patrols came near. But my plans for escape came to nothing.”

“Why?” Lyra asked.

“You know the answer already,” Blue said. He pointed to the porthole, “Where would I go? I’m not on my own world, Lyra. Here there’s food, shelter, and...” he smiled, “Celandine.” He shook his head, “I couldn’t leave her behind. Not in a million lifetimes.”

“You must really love her,” Lyra said gently.

Blue chuckled. “You know, I think I must do.” His smile was infectious, bringing a beaming grin to Lyra’s own face. It felt good, and the first little ray of sunshine she’d felt since coming here.

“Even if she’s nuts?” the green mare asked, cheekily.

Blue grinned back, “Even if she’s a whole sack full.”

The two of them sat for a while in silence before Lyra asked, “Blue, can I ask you in all seriousness – do you think I can get home? Any of us?”

“Truthfully?” Blue shrugged, “Celandine thinks so.”

“I get that, but what about you?” Lyra asked.

The human topped up his glass and leaned over to do the same for Lyra. “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s a hell of a thing to give up hope, Lyra. It leaves you empty, lingering from day to day just like these old ships here – slowly fading away until you’re nothing more than a memory, and perhaps… not even that.” He paused then gave himself a shake, in a curiously equine manner. “Ha! Don’t listen to me moaning. Look, Lyra, if there is a way off the island, for you I mean, then I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

“You will?” Lyra’s ears pricked up.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Blue seemed surprised by her response. “I’m not the kind of guy to sit back on my ass and see someone in trouble and do nothing to help.” His eyes twinkled as he added, “It wouldn’t be right.”

Lyra shook her head and barked out a laugh, “Ha! I’m a real life damsel in distress am I?”

Blue closed his eyes and shrugged. “I’m no saviour knight on a white steed, but if I can help, I will,” he said with his customary smile.

“Steed?”

“A horse,” Blue said absently. “I used to be quite the equestrian when I was younger. My pa was a rancher and we rode our horses until we were so sore from the saddle I swear my butt cheeks made the bath water steam!” He laughed gently, staring at his glass. “Yeah, things sure were...” He looked up, “Lyra? You okay? You’ve gone beet red there, kid.”

“Ha- Have I?!” Lyra’s hooves shot up to her ears and sure enough they, like her cheeks, were positively burning!

“Ah,” Blue cleared his throat, “looks like I’ve put my foot in it again. Damn it, I thought by now I’d-”

“NO!” Lyra squeaked, and then lowered her voice, “No, Blue, please, it’s fine. I think I… I think I just misunderstood what you meant, that’s all.” She coughed, “Um, so, er… you have ‘horses’ in your world do you?”

The human didn’t seem too sure by the direction the conversation was taking but shrugged his concerns away, “Sure, but they’re nothing like you guys, if that’s what you’re thinking.” At Lyra’s perplexed expression he explained, “You know what a monkey is, right? Or an ape?” Lyra nodded. “They’re as alike to humans as horses are to ponies – this worlds ponies at any rate.” A slight bloom came to his cheeks now. “God almighty, I found that out alright...”

The last part was mumbled just enough so Lyra could sense how much of a shock his appearance in this world must have been for him. “Um, so, you read the book?” Lyra asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

“I did.”

Lyra nodded, “Did Celandine teach you how to read our language?”

Blue seemed relieved by the change of conversation direction, “She did, and she’s a good teacher too. I encouraged her to help teach the kids in the village, but she’s not too keen on that place, and that’s putting it mildly.”

“She’s antisocial?” Lyra asked in surprise. “That’s unusual for a pony.”

Blue shrugged, “This whole place is unusual, Lyra.” He took a deep breath, “Honestly, this place is a sink hole where everyone does what they need to survive.”

“But what about living?”

Blue looked up questioningly.

“I mean, what’s the point of it all?” Lyra asked. “This isn’t living, Blue, it’s existing. Ponies, and I dare say humans as well, aren’t meant to live like this.” She held up a hoof, indicating the room and the world beyond. “No music? Good goddesses, you can’t go five minutes in Equestria without somepony breaking out into song! Okay, sometimes it’s bloody annoying and half of them are tone deaf, but even so...” She shook her head sadly as she tailed off. “There’s got to be a way out of here, Blue. There’s got to be! I know Celandine thinks I’ve given up, but I haven’t. I just… Gods, I don’t know!” Lyra felt tears stinging at the corners of eyes. She hated showing weakness, it was something that she’d always disliked in others too, but sometimes… sometimes she just…

Something touched her.

She looked down and her eyes went wide.

“It’s alright,” Blue said softly. “I know how you feel. I was like that myself when I first got here.” Blue gave her hoof a gentle squeeze. Lyra couldn’t take her eyes off it - off his hand. Those pinkish digits, the way they curled around her hoof. They were so warm, so soft…

Lyra swallowed. “They’re amazing,” she whispered.

“Huh?” Blue looked confused. “What is?”

“Your… Your hands.” Lyra’s eyes lingered for a moment then glided up his arm to his face, and his dark brown eyes, “I always wondered… what it would be like to have them.”

“What, hands?” Blue’s eyes went wide before he barked out a laugh and stood back. “Hell, I wouldn’t know what it would be like to have hooves!” He pointed to his head, “Or a horn for that matter. God, what I wouldn’t give to be able to wield magic!” Blue shivered, an impish smile spreading across his face. “To be able to conjure up fireballs, to fly with dragons and wish up a huge pile of gold!”

“Um, it er...”

“Incredible cosmic power!”

“Blue, it doesn’t-”

“I could turn myself into a dragon! Can you imagine that!”

“BLUE!”

The human paused, his hands held aloft as he turned to face the green unicorn, “Eh? What?”

“I said it doesn’t work like that,” Lyra said a little exasperated. “I thought I’d made that clear earlier?”

Blue’s beaming grin was back, “Yeah, I know, but come on, Lyra, let a guy have his dreams, yeah?” He began to laugh. That simplest of expressions, so heartfelt and innocent, filled the room, and also the heart of a certain unicorn sitting a few feet away. Was she still blushing?

Abruptly, Lyra gave herself a shake, “Blue? Shouldn’t we go and check on Celandine? She was really upset earlier, and-”

“And she’ll come round once she’s had a moment to reflect on how stupid she’s being,” Blue cut in. Suddenly he clapped his hand together, “Right then, enough bloody melancholy.” He leaned forward and took Lyra’s hoof once more. “Come on, I want to show you something I’ve been working on.”

Lyra looked over her shoulder to the door, “Shouldn’t we get Celandine first?” Damn it all, her cheeks were starting to burn again! She hoped he wouldn’t notice, but before she could react, Blue had released her and pulled on a hat from the stand beside the door.

“Will you stop worrying!” Blue smiled, rolling his eyes. “She’s not a child, Lyra. And besides, if I go running after her it’ll only matters worse.”

“I’m not so sure,” Lyra muttered, climbing down off the settee.

“Huh? What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Lyra said quickly. “Just thinking aloud.”

“Well, don’t you start doing that too,” Blue said, buttoning up his coat. “The last thing I need is two potty mares to deal with. One’s more than enough, thank you very much.” And with that he strode towards the door. “Come on, young lady, it’s not far. Oh, and don’t wander off. I know you’re not a kid, but this place is a maze, and only the main areas are lit to conserve fuel.”

Lyra felt a shiver run down her spine, but she hurried along to keep up with the human, “Is that this ‘elastic trickery’ thing that Celandine was talking about?”

“Elastic-?” Blue paused for a moment before adding, “Oh! You mean ‘electricity’?” He nodded, turning to head up the stairs. “It’s produced by a steam powered generator down in the engine room. There’s plenty of coal, and if that fails there’s more wood on the island than I could ever possibly need. Celly built a wave powered thing down near the inlet, but it’s more trouble than its worth.”

Lyra shook her head in amazement. “Lightning used as power… It’s incredible.”

“It sure is,” Blue smiled warmly. “I’m no expert, but I know enough to get by.”

“Even though you lost your memory?” Lyra asked.

“Yup.” Blue all but leaped up the next flight of stairs, “Celly said it was to do with where the damage was.” He pointed to a patch of white on his head which stuck out in stark contrast against the mostly dark brown mop of hair. “Mostly what went was my memory of who I was,” he continued. “But I still recall bits and pieces now and again.”

Lyra frowned, “Who you were? Don’t you mean ‘who you are’?”

Blue shook his head, “Nope.” He looked over his shoulder at her, “I am who I am, Lyra. Celly calls me Blue, so Blue I am.” The ascent continued. “Believe me, I’ve had more than one mental breakdown since I’ve been living in this magnificent rusty metal palace we call home. Now...” he gave ironic laugh, “Now, I think of it as more of a blessing than a curse. Ha! Maybe your goddess works in mysterious ways too, huh?”

“Celestia?” Lyra smiled, “Maybe she does.”

Blue raised an eyebrow quizzically, “And she’s real, right? I mean, you can actually see her?”

“She’s as real as you and I, Blue.” Lyra felt her heart lift, her step lightening as they ascended. Just talking to this curious being brought a smile to her face, and truth be told she wasn’t entirely sure why. Probably best not to analyse it too much, Lyra old girl, she thought to herself.

Around them the old ship creaked and groaned as the metal reacted to the cool of the oncoming night. At first, Lyra had been startled by the alarming sounds echoing all around her, some of which were very loud indeed. In her occasionally overactive imagination she’d pictured giants, enormous humans as tall as mountains standing outside just beyond the portholes, beating on the sides of the ship with great iron hammers. Why they would have done this of course didn’t really matter, but it certainly made Lyra’s mane twitch almost constantly. In contrast, Blue and Celandine didn’t seem to hear these sounds at all, which suggested a long time familiarity with the disturbing noises that came from virtually all around them at all hours of the day and night. To make matters worse, the deeper they went the more prominent the sounds became. Up here however it was at lot quieter despite the ever present background hush of the waves and the cry of seagulls. Lyra didn’t want to show any weakness in front of Celandine, let alone Blue, but considering how alien this all was to her she felt she was well within her rights to feel nervous. After all, and especially since she’d been attacked by those damned horrible bat things, there was that part of her which kept niggling at her as if at any moment something was going to come at her from beyond the safety of the lights. Blue himself was a different matter altogether. He was tall, at least compared to Lyra who was about average so far as ponies went, but then since he walked upright on two legs that was hardly surprising. She’d always considered the possibility of humans being tall, but most of it had been conjecture. Even that had been soundly debunked by nearly every academic out there. No, humans were a myth like the Loch Fetloch monster or the ‘Beast of Yellow River Bridge’. The last one was meant to have been a giant bat or moth of some description that would make the bridge ‘shiver’ late at night. Despite the locals being convinced it was real, nopony else gave it much credence. That had been until one night when the town had been hosting a fancy dance evening for dignitaries from the surrounding towns and villages. The whole event was intended to put Yellow River on the map, encouraging investment into the small town. To this end they had brought in some of the very top chefs in Equestria, at no small expense either. Naturally the prospect of a free feed was a great attraction to those with more ‘refined’ palates. Notable amongst these was the mayor of Valendale, a stallion who had served on the Royal Flight Academy board of directors for the last twenty years. He’d come as the ‘significant other’ of one of the other guests, although with his connections to the treasury department he was one of the most eagerly anticipated attendees. As fate would have it, the hapless fellow had a carriage wheel break on his way to the event, not far from the approach to the bridge. Whilst his driver attempted to repair the stricken conveyance, the mayor walked out onto the bridge to have a smoke. The mayor, never one to go anywhere unprepared, had dressed as a sheep so he wouldn’t wasted any time when he arrived. According to the reports of the driver, the mayor had then simply ‘disappeared’ in a sudden, and unexpected, gust of wind. Despite all attempts to locate the missing dignitary, the month long investigation drew a complete blank. The numerous divers, dogs and pegasi search teams found nothing, and certainly no sign of any foul play. There was no blood, and no sign of a body either. It was just as the driver had said – the mayor had seemingly vanished into thin air.

A royal enquiry concluded that the unlucky mayor had been ‘blown over the bridge by a freak wind’, a phenomenon that tied in nicely with the locals stories about the ‘shivering bridge’. Now you could have been forgiven for thinking that would have been an end to the matter, a fact which had no doubt spoiled the conspiracy theories of some of the more active minded ponies, but as always something came along which only complicated matters. One day the newly formed Royal Telegraphy Company came to town, bringing with it the promise of much longed for improved communications and, naturally, increased prosperity. The locals were thrilled as the lines went up, but not so much when the town was awoken one night with the most terrible screams and howling from, somewhat expectedly, the direction of Yellow River bridge. Upon arrival by the towns ponies and police, the scene was like nothing anypony could have expected. It was a dragon. Not a very big dragon as it turned out, but one that had managed to tangle itself in the wires of the newly installed telegraph system. Freeing the beast proved difficult, but the ponies of this industrial town were no strangers to hard work and the frantic thing had been freed in short order.

As the dragon lumbered into the air without so much as a word of thanks, one of the more eagle eyed pegasi from the town noticed something stuck to one of the dragon’s spikes. It was a long, golden chain. The kind of chain worn by - and you probably guessed it already – local dignitaries. Most notably, mayors. This time the Royal Flight Academy flew into action, scouring the countryside for the rogue dragon. With their reputation on the line, they quickly found the cave our errant scaled beast had made its home. There, amongst the bones of the dragon’s former meals, were the unmistakable, and very chewed, skeletal remains of a certain male stallion. The royal commission concluded, correctly this time, that the bridge was on the flight path from the dragon’s normal feeding grounds leading back to its cave, causing the unusual ‘shivering’ effect the structure had become notable for. The hapless mayor had merely been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and was most likely collected by the dragon as an opportune meal on its way home. Consideration was given as to whether to have the creature ‘put down’, relocated, or merely asked to apologise to the mayor’s family. All three options were ruled out due to the discovery that the red dragon was pregnant. Shortly afterwards some bright spark had the brilliant idea of putting lights on the bridge at the height of the wires, and ever since the shivering bridge has been tremble, and fatality, free.

And thus our tale came to an end, together with the associated ‘legend’. Some would have thought that the explanation of what had happened at the bridge would have given some relief to the locals. No doubt to some that was indeed the case, but as always there are the exceptions to the rule. Some of the more enterprising locals had been using the legend of the bridge as a kind of macabre tourist attraction, selling surprisingly popular items as model bridges, snow globes, and tee shirts claiming such things as ‘I survived the Shivering Bridge!’ or ‘If you feel the Shiver, start to Quiver!’ and more. Now that the mystery had been cleared up, a negative impact to the fledgeling tourism industry was becoming a very real possibility. At least it would have been until some of those aforementioned enterprising minds came up with something that really put Yellow River on the top ten list of places of events to attend. It was, and still is, The Yellow River Midnight Fleece Festival.

Some may have believed it to be disrespectful to the memory of the late mayor, some that it was in poor taste, but if there was one thing that you couldn’t dispute, was that it was popular. Every year, unsurprisingly on the very same night that the mayor had met his end, the towns folk would gather on the bridge dressed as - you guessed it – sheep. There were lights, music, singing and dancing, and of course the obligatory T-Shirts. ‘I was fleeced at Yellow River!’ became a smash hit overnight. Lyra even had one hanging up in her wardrobe at home. Whatever happened to the dragon which had caused all the commotion in the first place was all but forgotten, the creatures fate quickly passing into folklore and inflatable red dragon balloons. Some believe that the noise from the festival had been too much for the scaly reptile and it had flown away to find a safer, and decidedly quieter, home far from noisy ponies. Whatever the truth was, the town was never bothered by flying reptiles again. What the dragon would have thought about being immortalised in the names of the local pubs, dance society and annual festival, would never be known. And perhaps it was for the best too. Myths and legends were at their best when they remained mysteries.

Now Blue on the other hoof… What could you say to a myth that was walking and talking right next to you?

“And here we are,” the human announced pleasantly. Lyra stopped, watching Blue as he pushed open the door to the darkness beyond. “Just a mo...” There was an audible click, and a second later the lights came on. “Welcome, Lyra,” Blue said expansively, holding his arms out. “Welcome, to my inner sanctum.” What was illuminated beyond was…

“I have no idea what I’m looking at.”

Blue’s grinning expression faltered.

Lyra shook her head, staring at all the wires, cables and boxes covered in knobs, switches, levers and all forms of… whatever it was. “I’m sorry, Blue,” she apologized sheepishly, “but… what is all this?”

The human sighed, lowering his gaze to the floor for a moment in what Lyra believed was disappointment. Had she said the wrong thing? The human quite clearly thought this place was special. Oh goddesses, was this a temple or shrine of some kind?! Damn it all, she’d put her hoof right in it this time! She’d have to-

“It’s a radio room.”

“Huh?” Lyra blinked as she tried to regain her mental train of thought, “A radio room?”

Blue gave a smile that was part grimace as he held out his hand, indicating the impressive array of equipment. “Ah, you probably don’t have radios in Equestria do you? Sorry, Lyra, I should have realised. Technologically speaking this may be light years ahead of what your civilisation has managed to-”

“We’re not sodding primitives, for bucks sake!” Lyra balked, her hoof flying up to her mouth. But it was too late, the words were already out. Blue took a step back in surprise at her outburst, his eyes staring right into hers. “I mean,” Lyra swallowed trying to slow her racing heart rate. “I mean, we do have radios, we… I mean our society has ‘technology’, it’s just...” In the brown eyed gaze of the human her words faltered. She was angry with him, at his assumption that her people were technologically inferior, perhaps even backward, and perhaps he was right too, but…

Blue held his hand up to his face and squeezed his eyes shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damn it all, there I go again,” he muttered. “Lyra, look, I’m sorry, that was bang out of order what I said just then.” To Lyra’s surprise he actually bowed to her! “Please, forgive me for being so rude, it was unintentional.” He walked over to a desk and offered her a seat before taking one himself. “I don’t know whether it’s the isolation of this place or just my arrogance talking, but I didn’t mean to offend you.” He flicked another switch, initiating a low, electrical hum in the small room. “Here on the island we’re all equally dirt poor, but sometimes I find it all…” He closed his eyes, “Even after all these years I find it hard, you understand? The society I’m from is so different to what we have here. Here there’s no cars, no planes, no movies, no… no nothing. God help me, Lyra, I can’t even remember the taste of soda, let alone beer!” Blue leaned back and groaned, “Surrounding myself by all of this stuff makes me feel like I’m still human, and that perhaps in some small way there’s still some hope left I’ll be able to get back home one day.” He chuckled under his breath, “Speaking of which, I hope I’m making sense and not just rabbiting away feeling sorry for myself.”

Lyra wasn’t sure what to say. The equipment Blue had here was indeed far in advance of anything she’d seen back in Equestria. It wasn’t magically powered for one thing, not to mention the fact that it looked so incomprehensibly complicated it was making her head spin. “Does it work?” she asked.

Blue shrugged, “I think so, but all I ever get is static. I’d hoped that we’d get something, even if it’s… well, ‘Equestrian’ in nature.”

“You could pick up Equestrian radio on that stuff?!” Lyra’s eyes went wide, “You mean we could call for help?” Her heart surged at the prospect.

The human pursed his lips and tapped one of the large metal boxes. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’d hoped that when a storm hit I could somehow contact whatever comes through and prevent them from wrecking on the island. If we could do that then maybe we could get them to pick us up and get us the hell out of here.”

Lyra shook her head in wonderment, “Have you had a chance to try?”

Blue nodded, “A small yacht appeared during the last storm, but I don’t think they heard me.” He turned one of the dials which produced a high pitched whining sound that rose and fell as he turned it. “I tried everything, but the storm either blotted out the signal or they were so busy trying to save the boat they didn’t have time to listen to the radio.” His gaze lowered, “They didn’t make it. The poor bastards were thrown onto the rocks and that was that.” He gave a humourless laugh, “A fool’s hope, eh?”

“No.” Lyra lifted her head and placed a hoof on Blue’s hand, “It’s not foolish to hope, Blue. It may be many things, but it’s never foolish.”

The human stared at her hoof, and then, slowly, his lowered gaze rose to meet hers. Lyra’s heart thumped hard in her chest. By the goddess, he was so close! Suddenly the room felt claustrophobically warm, whether as a result of the equipment giving off heat or her flushing cheeks made not a jot of difference. He was… He was just so… male. Those fathomless eyes, the eyes of a being from another world from the pages of myth come to life before her. She only had to reach out, and-

“Thanks, Lyra.”

And the moment passed. Blue smiled, letting her hoof go as he walked to the radio and flicked switches in some incomprehensible dance of clicks and whines. To Lyra, however, she couldn’t stop staring at her hoof. What was wrong with her?! Why was her heart racing so, and her ears felt like they were on fire too. Was she a teenager again? No! Of course not, that was silly. He was a human, a creature that wasn’t even native to her world, not to mention the fact that he was involved with Celandine too. Obviously she didn’t mind that he was a human. She’d seen that first hoof the first night here! Ha! Why would she… And then… Oh gods, now the memories of what she’d seen were coming back to her.

“Are you okay?” Blue asked in concern.

“Huh?” Lyra nearly choked as her eyes met his once again, “No! Yes! I mean...” Lyra hung her head and let out a loud groan, “Yes, I’m fine Blue, honestly.” She gave herself a hard shake, “Hey, you got any booze here?”

“Uh, sure… Hang on a mo.” Blue reached into a cupboard and took out a bottle, “I’d offer you a beer but the heat made the last few we had go bad years ago. Whiskey alright? It’s single malt.”

“That’ll do the job,” Lyra said plainly. And gods, did she need it right then! As Lyra took her drink she tried to keep her focus on the equipment. “So!” she began awkwardly. “This stuff, you can tune it in to various frequencies and what-not, right?”

Blue watched her for a moment then chuckled, “I sure can, but all I get is static.” He rolled his shoulders and yawned, “You know, it could simply be a case of Equestrian radio being so completely alien to human technology that the two are completely incompatible. Maybe I’m just wasting my time fiddling about with all of this, but god help me, it keeps my mind active at least.” Suddenly he perked up, turning to her with a big grin, “Hope springs eternal. Right, Lyra?”

“It sure does!”

“So,” Blue announced, clapping his hands together, “I promised you I’d answer your questions, so the way I see it, now’s as good a time as any.” He moved the bottle, placing it between them. “Shall we begin?”

Chapter Six - Beware of llamas bearing gifts

Blue was a veritable mine of information. His memory of his own life may have damaged, but what he knew about the world he was from had Lyra completely enthralled. Oh, how she wished she had one of those new dictaphones with her! Some of the archaeologists used them, but they were so expensive! Not only that but the magical batteries were hard to come by too, with the end result that she still relied entirely on paper, pen, and her own sharp memory for record keeping. Despite her excitement at Blue’s incredible description of life in the human world, she couldn’t escape the lurking fear that nopony other than her was ever going to hear any of this. Celandine no doubt had heard all about it of course, but if they never managed to get back to Equestria then all of this would… Bah! It wasn’t worth thinking about. She, like Blue, would live in the moment and take this for what it was. After all, she’d literally dreamed of an opportunity like this, and as for Hidden Path’s book? Ha! The guy was like a foal trying to understand algebra! This was it. This was the real thing! Planes, cars, trains, ships, movie stars, different cultures, races, and so, so much more! It was hard to take it all in. What really struck her was how similar so much of it was, and yet at the same time extraordinarily alien. Wars seemed to be almost a way of life to the humans, not that they were unknown to equestrians of course, but the bipedal creatures appeared to almost relish them. Blue himself had been anxious to ‘join up’ as he called up so he could fight other humans in… what were they again? Flying machines? He had a name for them… Yes, the ‘Aeroplanes’ as he’d called them. He’d used a lot of jargon unfortunately, but to Lyra’s relief he usually corrected himself before moving on. As for ‘Blue the man’, all he could recall about himself was that he’d snuck onto one of the aircraft as they’d had a space free for a crew ‘man’. The original one had been sick or something. From Lyra could make out, Blue wasn’t supposed to be there, however the crew had let him aboard to gain some experience. Well, he’d certainly got that alright. The irony of the whole situation was that the one guy who shouldn’t have been there was the only one who had survived, and barely at that. Lyra certainly had to admire Celandine’s medical skill for patching up Blue the way she had. The wound may have long healed, but the long white stripe in his hair gave clear testament as to the severity of his injury. Blue was truly lucky to be alive.

Lyra suddenly hiccuped and looked down at her glass. Goddess, how much had she drunk?! “Sorry!” she said, feeling a little embarrassed. “I hadn’t noticed how much I’ve been drinking.”

Blue waved away her concerns, “No need to apologise when you’re with friends,” he said kindly. “I’ve enjoyed your company. Besides, I think-”

Both of them froze as a red light on the wall blinked on unexpectedly. Blue turned to stare at it and his expression immediately darkened, so much so that it made Lyra’s previously buoyant mood feel like it had just crashed onto the rocks like one the stricken ships. To her mounting horror the kindly Blue now looked like a completely different person. He looked… frightening. Those once gentle brown eyes turned cold and hard in a trice, his face reminding her of the picture of the human on the magazine cover as the red light bathed them both in its blood red glare. Lyra shivered.

“What is it?” she whispered.

Blue paused, but only for a moment. “Trouble,” he said abruptly. With an incredible display of speed, the man dashed behind one of the tables and took out a weapon similar to the one Lyra had seen Celandine carrying. What was going on here? Was-

There was a loud boom from somewhere down below, the sound muffled by distance and thick metal, yet unmistakable even so. This was quickly followed by a blood curdling scream that was all too familiar. Blue didn’t hesitate. In a flash he was at the door, “Stay here and shut the door!” he called over his shoulder. “For god’s sake don’t open it for anyone, you understand?”

“Y- Yes!” Lyra gabbled. “I under-” But Blue was already gone, haring off down the metal stairs. “-stand...” Lyra stared at the open door. “What the hell?” She shook her head in befuddlement. One minute they were having a conversation, and a very enjoyable one for that matter, and the next minute...” Another loud bang from below. Shouting. A rattle of rapid reports and another scream. Blue was yelling something, but there were other shouts. Other voices. Suddenly Lyra felt the hairs stand on her back stand up and she grabbed the door with her hooves, slamming it shut. The lever was next, pulled into place which in turn put large bolts into their respective slots around the frame. It may have made her safe, safer than she would have been out there, but now her heart was beating ten to the dozen. Sweat broke out on her brow, her mouth going horrible dry. The alcohol may have been masking some of her emotions of course, but nowhere near enough for this madness. What was she going to do?! Quickly she began to search the room, looking for something she could use as a weapon, something that could help protect her if those, whatever they were, got in here. Oh goddesses, was it the zeks? Maybe the pegasi? Yes, yes that was the most likely explanation. The young stallion had come to his senses and told the others about her and they’d put two and two together. Sure, they’d spoken to Celandine already, but there’s always somepony who isn’t satisfied and wants to- Wait, was it their hoof prints? Oh, no! There must have been two sets of hoofprints on…

It had gone quiet.

Lyra took a deep breath. Her magic was tingling, alerting her to something. Or some pony. Hang on, hadn’t Celandine said there were no unicorns on the island? After all, that was what all that bloody ‘tainted’ rubbish had been about, right? But then something was there, just outside the door. Her horn was itching now, a sure sign of magic being used nearby. She moved closer, pressing her ear up against the cold metal. If she closed her eyes she could swear she could hear breathing.

“Blue?” she whispered. “Blue, is that you?”

Silence.

Lyra was just about to walk away when she heard, “Lyra?” It wasn’t Blue, that was damned sure, but it was male alright – a vaguely familiar male voice which had a distinctive Canterlot accent. It couldn’t be…? But it sounded just like him!

“Who’s there?” Lyra said quietly.

There was a short delay before, “It’s me, Parchment. We were working on the dig together, remember?”

Gods, how could she not?! Lyra automatically lifted her hoof to the door mechanism and hesitated. “Parchment? Wait, how do I know it’s really you?”

Another pause. “You went off to play in a gig somewhere and I carried on working on the portal whilst the others knocked off for the evening,” the voice replied. “I… I activated the portal. I don’t know whether it was something I did or it was triggered by something else, I don’t know for certain, but when I touched the silver light it grabbed me, sucking me inside.” He took a moment, probably for breath, “The next thing I knew I was thrown out into this forest and chased by monsters.”

Lyra swallowed. Her mouth had gone horribly dry. “And what happened then?” she breathed.

“A group of pegasi caught me,” Parchment said in his matter-of-fact manner. “They took me to a walled town they call the-”

“-citadel,” Lyra finished. “And I expect they just let you out, did they?”

Parchment’s voice sounded muffled through the door, but was still clear enough, “No.”

“No?” Now Lyra really was surprised.

“Lyra, the ponies on this island, the humans too, they’re not what you think they are.” Parchment paused as if gathering his thoughts, “They’re prisoners. All of them.”

“What? Prisoners?” Lyra shook her head. Hadn’t Blue and Celandine said something about the humans here being prisoners? Well, they had been prisoners before arriving on the island, sure, but the ponies? “What the hell are you talking about?” she asked.

Parchment’s voice rose an octave, “Lyra, please, you don’t understand.”

“You’re bloody well right there, buddy boy!” Lyra snorted. “You’d better start telling me what the buck’s going on or I’m keeping this door shut ‘til doomsday!”

Parchment cleared his throat. He sounded a little stressed, but considering what madness was going on out there she’d have been even more surprised if he wasn’t. “The ponies in the village are violent criminals who are too dangerous to keep in Equestria,” he explained hurriedly. “The princesses use this island as a place to exile those who can’t be released back into society to keep them from harming innocents.”

“You can’t be serious!” Lyra balked. “They wouldn’t do that! It would be a national scandal!”

“It would be,” Parchment explained, “if anypony knew about it. The princesses use a private portal in the dungeons below the palace to send exiles here. It’s been going on for hundreds of years, maybe more. The portal you and I came through was a relic, one which they’d thought destroyed with the destruction of Galeus’s tower.”

Lyra shook her head in amazement, “How the hell do you know all this? And how are you here too? These guys kill unicorns, Parchment! They tried to kill me!”

There was a moments delay before Parchment explained. “It’s too much to tell you all in one go,” he said sounding a little desperate. “The humans at the citadel, the one the locals call ‘zeks’, were dragged here through a rogue magical portal which has been caused by a side effect of the princesses’ portal. It drags anything nearby through it onto the island.” Well, that certainly sounded reasonable. “The humans have been working with the unicorns to try and open a portal home.”

“Hang on a minute,” Lyra’s mind was reeling. “What do you mean, ‘working with unicorns’? The villagers surrender their children to-”

“Because if they stayed in the village they’d become infected with the sickness which is endemic on this island!” Parchment all but shouted. “If the humans or seekers don’t rescue them, isolating them from the rest of the equine population, the sickness would attack their magic and can kill them. What should they do, Lyra? Leave them there to die?”

“They take them from their parents, Parchment!” the green mare countered. “How can than that be right, eh?”

Parchment rounded on her, “What in Equestria are you going on about? The parents do it voluntarily to save their lives!”

“They… They what?” Lyra couldn’t get her head around this. Celandine hadn’t said anything about this! What Parchment was saying made sense, but… “How do I know you’re not out there with a gun to your head and all of this is just made up bullshit?” she reasoned. “Celandine, ‘Six’ I mean,” she corrected herself quickly, “told me that-”

“Six is an outcast,” Parchment said suddenly. “She killed her own child, a unicorn child, rather than hoof him over to the citadel. Dear Celestia, Lyra, you want to believe somepony like that? Has she got inside your head that much? And another thing, do you think that anypony in their right mind would voluntarily live out here in these… these rotting hulks?” Lyra could all but hear him shaking his head in disbelief. “Lyra, look, you can stay here if you want, but please understand that there’s a place at the citadel for you if you want to go there. Just... don’t take too long to make your mind up. If you don’t get help soon the sickness will get you, and if you aren’t treated properly...” He paused, “You’ll be dead inside a week.”

Dead? A flush of cold ran through Lyra from muzzle to tail as Parchment’s words hit home. He had said ‘Dead’, right? Like, really, really dead? Dead as the poor sod on the beach? Lyra shivered. What Parchment was saying sounding so plausible, frighteningly so to be honest, especially when you considered what he’d said about the prisoners and the princesses using the island as a place to dump exiles. Equestria had a very low crime rate, and what there was was usually confined to the cities where you almost expected that sort of thing to go on. But… Blue had said not to open the door, and Celandine… Celandine did seem… well, she seemed nuts if she had to give a fair opinion on the yellow mare’s mental state. The way she waved that gun around was frightening to say the least, not to mention that she’d nearly shot her with the bloody thing too! And she hadn’t done anything either! Right then, that was it…

She pulled on the handle. The lock clanked back into place, the door swinging open slightly. Beyond it, bathed in the light from the electric bulbs, stood the purple coated stallion himself. Barely more than a colt, Parchment was every inch the typical Canterlot teenager: confident, a little too cocky for his own good, and bearing the kind of youthful good looks that made her horribly jealous.

True to his word, he was alone.

“So what’s the plan?” Lyra asked. “You want me to come with you now?”

Parchment shook his head, “No. The ponies at the citadel want you to come to them of your own free will, Lyra. If you decide to come and help us work on the portal, head south out of the wrecks to the beach at dawn. Follow the path, and when you round the headland there’ll be a sky carriage waiting.”

“What if one of the villagers comes along?” Lyra asked, remembering Celandine’s reaction when she’d first encountered her.

“They won’t,” Parchment replied. “We’ve arranged for a fireworks display tonight, along with plenty of booze to keep them entertained. A little gift from the citadel for their ‘loyalty’.”

“That’s very forward thinking of you,” Lyra said a little sceptically. “Expecting me to be a good little lamb and follow the flock are you?”

Parchment chuckled, “No, not really. I know we don’t know one another very well, but I know you’re a damned good archaeologist and that you have a logical mind.” He nodded to himself, “You’re exactly the kind of pony we need to help us all get home - Me, you, the humans, and the other ponies too.”

“How can we send the everypony home?” Lyra asked. “If they’re exiles like you said, then they’ll just get arrested again. The humans are another matter all together. They’re not even from this world, Parchment. I think crossing world is a bit beyond even a working portal, don’t you?”

“Which is why we’re creating is a ‘Master Portal’,” Parchment said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “We can go anywhere, Lyra.” His eyes sparkled in the artificial light, “Home to my family, or yes, even to another world. Can you imagine that? Ha! You could even go to the human world yourself if you wanted to.”

Lyra’s eyes must have been as wide as saucers, “I… I’ll have to tell-”

“Don’t,” Parchment said solemnly. “Six wouldn’t understand. And from what I’ve heard about her, you’d be putting yourself in serious danger. Still, it’s up to you. You’re a grown mare, so the decision is yours.” He peered behind himself briefly, “I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, Parchment vanished up the stairs and once more the ship fell silent. At least until there was a loud clang downstairs and Blue, red faced and panting, came charging into the room. Without pause he flung open a cupboard, pulled out some sort of pack and swung it up onto his back. “Lyra, come on. Follow me and don’t tarry.”

Confused, Lyra complied. Blue reached behind her and slammed the door shut, locked it, and then headed off down into the depths. Lyra followed hot on his heels, “What’s happening? Blue?”

Blue still held his weapon, and had a look about him that spoke of an expectation of imminent attack. “Chocks,” he said simply. “I don’t know how, but several of them got in here and attacked Celly.”

“Dear Celestia!” Lyra nickered. “Is she alright? She hasn’t been hurt has she?”

Blue kept moving, his gun ready and his eyes constantly alert for any signs of danger, “She took a nasty bite to the neck, but she’s going to be alright. Thank god she had her shotgun or she’d have been...” He tailed off. “Do you know how to use a gun?”

“A gun?” Lyra shook her head, “No.” “But I can form a shield with my magic if we need it,” she added quickly.

Blue grimaced. “We may just need it,” he muttered ominously.

The stairway felt like it went on forever, with every step she took sounding like a marching band on its way to gate crash a party in Hades. Lyra could tell Blue was irritated by the noise her hooves were making on the cold metal, but it wasn’t like she had any choice in the matter. She’d come through the portal wearing little more than her day panniers. Slippers had most certainly not been an option at the time. Blue on the other hoof, with his rubber soled boots on his feet, was near silent. He’d had some military training, Lyra knew that from what little Blue could remember of his former life before the crash, but even that small amount made her feel comforted by his presence. Of the chocks however, there was no sign. No sign other than… bodies. There were four of them, and each one lying stock still in the shadowy light.

“I’ll recycle them in the morning,” Blue said stiffly. “May as well make use of them. Furs are always welcome at night.”

Lyra felt a shiver run through her veins once more, her mind focussing on two words in particular: Fur, and Recycle. She now had an unpleasantly graphic image stuck in her mind of what the human had planned for the dead creatures. Although she had no love for the brutal beasts, the thought of them being skinned and… eaten? She shook her head. No, it wasn’t a pleasant image at all. She decided not to mention her discomfort regarding this to Blue. He was a human, and they had their ways of doing things just as her species had theirs. Survival, as she was quickly discovering, could lead you to do things that you would normally balk at. Right now she could only pray that she could escape this awful place before she started to become more… more like… more like what? Like Blue and Celandine? Had Parchment been telling the truth? Was Celandine truly a killer who had murdered her own foal? It didn’t seem possible. Celandine had risked her life to help her, and the two of them had fought side by side to escape the arbalests. Okay, so she was a bitch who bit her head off every time she asked her a question, and her reaction to a song, a song off all things, had been absolutely insane! But what Parchment had said was so plausible, and the guy had been on his own too. If he’d been up to something he could have jumped her when she’d foolishly opened the door. And yet he hadn’t, had he? What’s more he was an Equestrian, not one of these weird islanders with their murderous beliefs and all that ‘Lode’ bullshit. Oh, and how she wanted to go home! Despite her excitement at meeting a human, the pull to escape this place was-

“Can you cover us with your magic while I get the door?”

Lyra came to her senses with a start. She’d let her mind wander and had all but blundered into Blue when he’d stopped by the door to the engine room. “Uh, yeah, sure,” she replied awkwardly.

Concentrating, Lyra raised the familiar golden yellow bubble of magic, neatly enclosing the two of them. This whole situation seemed horribly familiar, although thank Celestia there were no arbalests biting her arse this time. Not only that, but the mere presence of Blue gave her that odd sensation of safety, protection and comfort that she’d noticed not long after they’d first met. He simply hadn’t given off any hint of aggression or threat to her that she may have expected when encountering such a being for the first time. Maybe she was biased though, especially considering her obsession with his species. Not that she’d known all that much before coming here of course, but now… Goddesses, she must be the most knowledgable mare on the subject in the whole of Equestria! Well, with the exception of-

“Celly!” Blue threw open the door and dashed inside. There in the gloomy light, lying silently beneath a blanket, was the still form of the yellow mare. “It’s alright, love, I’m here, hang on now.” The human bent down beside the huddled figure on the floor. With a few swift movements he had the pack he’d collected from the radio room off his back and placed it beside him, all but tipping out the contents in his desperate hurry to help his mare. “Hey, stay with me now, okay?”

Lyra felt utterly helpless. Celandine and Blue, the most unlikely couple she could have ever imagine existing except in her wildest fantasies, now existed in this private little world of their own. Mercifully Celandine was still alive, looking up at the human with such extraordinary love and trust in her eyes it brought a tear to her own. She was hurt, just like Blue had said, the blood drying on her neck around a vicious looking wound.

“I’m...” She licked her lips and winced. “I’m alright, Blue. It’s nothing...”

Blue didn’t seem to think so, “Shush, no talking while I work, okay?”

Celandine complied.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Lyra asked, moving closer.

“Do you know any magic spells that can heal her?” Blue asked hopefully.

Lyra hung her head, “No.” Suddenly she smiled, “Wait, yes! I… I remember one for reducing bruising.”

Blue looked at her in amazement for a second. “Bruising...” He gave a small sigh, “Well, keep it handy just in case. When I’ve sewn her up it could be useful.”

“Sew her...” Lyra’s eyes moved from Blue to Celandine, to the medical kit in his hand, and the small package of needles and thread he was taking out. “Oh… Oh, Luna...”

Blue glanced at her, “If you’re going to throw up, do it over there will you?”

Lyra shook her head. She couldn’t falter now, not when Blue needed her. She was a mare, gods damn it, not a child! Taking a deep breath she gave herself a hard shake and cleared her throat, “I’m fine, Blue. Is there any hot water I can get to help her?”

The human smiled, “Atagirl, Lyra.” He jerked a thumbed over his shoulder, “Back there behind the bench there’s a small sink with a tap. There should be a clean bowl somewhere abouts too.”

“I’m on it.” Now Lyra had a purpose. Now she was doing something useful. Something to help. If nothing else it took her mind off things she’d rather forget, and allowed her to focus on a useful task that she could throw herself into. The sink was indeed right where Blue had said it was, and there too, the bowl. A quick search revealed soap, a towel, and a few cloths. Some where absolutely filthy and quickly discarded, but after a few moments of effort, the bowl was as clean as it was going to get. Bucket filled, soap, cloth and towels prepped, Lyra plopped herself down on the other side of Celandine.

“Good.” Blue had finished threading the needle and inspecting the wound, “No arteries severed. She’s lucky.” He took out a small paper packet, tore off the top, and sprinkled an acrid smelling yellowish powder over the wound. “Sulfa,” he explained as he worked. “Helps to disinfect the wound.” Next he took the needle and glanced up at Lyra, “You okay?” The green mare nodded as Blue gave her a gentle smile in return. He looked down at Celandine, “This may hurt a bit, love. I can’t give you any pain killers as they’re-”

“For humans, I know.” Celandine closed her eyes, “I doubt it’ll be any worse than it already is.” She glanced up at him, “It’d better be neat though.”

A gentle smile came to Blue’s lips, “You’ll be the belle of the ball, my beautiful flower.”

Lyra sat watching the human work. He was remarkably efficient too, those incredible fingers of his darting this way and that like a school of fish. As for Celandine, she barely flinched once. You had to admit that as crazy as she was, she sure was one tough cookie. Eventually the sewing, mercifully for all concerned, was complete. The yellow mare let out a long sigh, letting Lyra wipe her brow and muzzle with a damp cloth. She may not have made a sound, but the sweat slicking her coat spoke volumes about her ordeal, not least the plethora of empty cartridge cases lying around the place.

Blue sat up and wiped his own forehead, nodding his thanks for the proffered cloth, “You alright there, Lyra? You looked like you were going to pass out.”

“It’s not something I normally deal with,” the green mare replied trying not to sound sarcastic. “Not that any of this is what any sane pony would call ‘normal’.” Blue chuckled quietly, returning to stroking Celandine’s foreleg and planting a gentle kiss on her hoof. Celandine smiled wearily, her eyelids drooping as she slowly drifted off to a well needed sleep. Goddesses, what time was it? It was impossible to tell down here amongst all the machinery, although it must have been sometime within the small hours of the morning. Lyra felt like wind had been not just been taken from her sails, but beaten from them. She was, truth be told, absolutely exhausted.

“You need to get some sleep too,” Blue said gently. “If you stay there, I’ll-”

Lyra’s eyes went wide.

“Lyra?”

Something detached itself from the darkness surrounding one of the enormous engines, appearing in absolute silence behind the human as he rose from beside his injured mare. Shadows darkened, silhouetting the man in the sickly yellow electric light. The black shape coalesced, taking form.

“Lyra, what are you-”

She couldn’t speak. Her mouth was as dry as the beach sand where she’d last seen one of them. Blue saw something reflected in her terrified eyes and was already turning, his hand reaching for his pistol.

Teeth, yellow-white, long and curved like sabres, glinted with undisguised malice… and intent. The gun raised, Blue’s finger tightening on the trigger.

Celandine woke in a start. She saw it now too, her eyes taking in the scene before her. The blanket began to raise. The hammer fell. Blue’s gun fired, but not before the teeth bit home.

The rest happened with horrifying speed. Blue grunted in pain, the pistol falling from his hand. The chock, with a flick of its head, threw him aside with all the effort of a foal tossing away a used toy. It made a dreadful, guttural sound, the teeth now slick with blood… and locked eyes with Lyra. She tried to scream, fear blotting out every other thought. But… Her magic! She needed a shield, a shield, gods damn it all! The thing was already coiling, readying to lunge at her. Power surged into Lyra’s horn but it was too late, and she was far too frightened to concentrate on the spell. It had been different with the bats, they had been smaller and she’d had time… time to… She closed her eyes. Perhaps this was the way it was going to end for her no matter what she did. Perhaps what had happened on the beach… maybe that was meant to have been her filling that beast’s belly. Maybe…

The creature leaped, maw wide. Teeth closed in as Lyra squeezed her eyes shut, expecting the tear of flesh and the pain that would hopefully be over quickly. She screamed. The deafening report of Celandine’s shotgun made her ears howl as loud as her cry of terror. Lyra’s eyes flew open, taking in the sight of the smoking hole in the blanket, the shotgun, and Celandine rising like some vengeful goddess of the deep come to wreak her terrible revenge upon the world above. Her hooves and mouth moved in perfect concert, the shotgun chambering a fresh round, firing, and reloading, firing and reloading. Again and again, shots poured into the chock. The chock, that was already reduced to a pile of crimson gore and torn shreds of fur and flesh.

“Blue...” Celandine, looking half dead herself, crawled over to the still body of her human. “Oh, no...” She swallowed, “No…” Her eyes took in the dreadful injury on Blue’s neck. The blood, thick and red, pouring down the front of his tunic. He didn’t respond. “Hey, come on now, Blue, stop messing me around, I know you’re okay.” Celandine tried a shaking smile, sliding her hoof under his head, “Open your eyes, big guy. Come on, please, you’re not fooling anypony, yeah? Blue… Blue, please...” She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing, “Please Blue, PLEASE!”

Lyra didn’t know what to say, let alone what to do. Her heart was breaking, and to see this… to see what was happening before her, was beyond anything she’d ever experienced in her life. Gods, up until she’d come through the portal the worst she’d ever had to deal with was pissed off customers, Bon Bon’s bad moods, and a shitty manager. Watching ponies, and now a human, being ripped open by monsters had shown her just how sheltered and pampered her life had really been. She got up and lifted a hoof towards Blue. Maybe he was still alive? If they could staunch the bleeding and-

“GET AWAY FROM HIM, YOU EVIL LITTLE BITCH!”

The sudden barrage of unleashed anger took Lyra by complete surprise, “I was only trying to-”

“I know what you were trying to do!” Celandine screamed. “This is all your fault! If you hadn’t come here, you and your sick, tainted magic...” She faltered, tears tumbling from her eyes as she cradled the limp body of her man. “You wanted to take him from me? Well… Well now you have, haven’t you?” She held him to her chest, her expression one of indescribable torment, “You’ve taken him from me. You’re just like everypony else on this damned island – what you can’t steal, you destroy.”

“Celandine, please,” Lyra tried. “He may-”

“Get out.”

“-still be...” Lyra blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Get out,” came the pained voice. “Just… Just fuck off will you.”

The green mare couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Obviously Celandine was in a dreadful state of mind, but it was possible Blue was still alive. She couldn’t tell in the gloomy light, but if she moved closer she could-

The shotgun clicked.

“If you don’t get out now,” Celandine rumbled around the firing bit, “I swear by the all the gods and goddesses of this world that I will paint that wall with your brains and feed the rest to the beasts!”

“I… I only wanted to help,” Lyra babbled, backing away. Her eyes fell upon the body of the human. The human whom she had always dreamed of meeting some day, and now… there he was… dead. The dream, once so beautiful, so innocent and childish in its naivety, had turned into a living nightmare.

“I think you’ve done more than enough,” Celandine hissed. “Get. Out.” Her voice dropped to near whisper, “Get out, get out, get out...”

Lyra didn’t wait to see what would happen if she didn’t. With a flick of her tail she snatched up her pack and ran to the door. Flinging it open in her magic, the young mare charged out into the hold of the beached vessel. She never looked back.

Exactly how Lyra made it through the hold, up the stairs to the forecastle, and through the heavy metal door to the outside, will probably remain a mystery forever. Perhaps it is just as well too. No arbalests bothered her, no chocks chased her, nor were there any pegasi. It was as if the very world, or at least the microcosm of the archaic ship, had been all too willing to expel her from its body as if she were no more than an intrusive foreign object. And in a sense she was. She didn’t belong here, and that was all too apparent. It may well be true that the ponies, even the humans, were alien to this island existence, but the ship… the ship had accepted them. They were a part of it, it and this island, as much as the rust that was slowly eating away the hulks on the shore. But Blue… Oh, poor, poor Blue. Taken from another world by a strange force, be it of nature or artifice, only to find himself half dead amongst monsters… and the bodies of his friends. Up until now he had survived with the help of the mare he had fallen in love with. Up until… until Lyra had arrived. Now Blue was dead, his mare badly injured, and Lyra running for all she was worth away from the problems she had brought upon them. If by some incredulous twist of fate the ship had somehow developed a consciousness of its own, then it would be right to expel her. Now all she could do was run. And run she did. Head down, tail streaming out behind her, the landscape flew by in a blur. Cold steel turned to dark skies, rocks, the tang of salt spray tingeing the air. Over the bridge, along the rough stone path scored by years of hooves, and out onto the beach. It was there, worn out, nerves strained to breaking point, Lyra finally collapsed in an exhausted heap onto the sand.

Tears fell, rolling down her cheeks, stinging her eyes. If she hadn’t been so exhausted she would have screamed, and kept on screaming until she’d expelled all the confusion and anger from her soul. Damn that Celandine! Damn that stupid, ignorant, selfish… fool! She was blaming her for what happened to Blue? Who was the one who’d run off in the first place after throwing a tantrum because, what, she’d sung a song? A bloody song for Celestia’s sake! Gods above, was she some sort of neurotic filly who got ‘triggered’ by the slightest damned thing? She knew the crazy fruit cake mare hadn’t been wired up right from the very first minute she’d met her, and it was probably her who’d let those murderous things into the ship in the first place! Oh, she could see it now - ‘That’ll teach them! I’ll make such a fuss, maybe get torn up a bit too, and then all the attention and focus will be on me!’ Lyra had to admit it would have been an insane plan to have done such a thing. It certainly didn’t explain how that many of the chocks would have either been there or knew when she’d have her little hissy fit and throw the door open. But then, they did live on a ship infested with pony eating bats, so why wouldn’t there be a pony eating ‘Chock area’ too? Luna have mercy, this place was insane! Absolutely, bucking insane! She took a breath and coughed out a mouthful of sand.

“Oh, Celestia… Blue. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry...”

She’d not been able to help him. Or, more to the point, she hadn’t been given a chance to help him. Now that stupid cow was crooning over him, over the corpse of the only human Lyra had ever met. And he’d been so kind to her too! He’d been… Oh, gods… this wasn’t happening…

A bright flash in the sky illuminated the trees along the edge of the forest in a blaze of vivid red light. Sparkles of colour burst forth, raining down in a crisp rattle of crackling sound. A few seconds later another followed, the rocket shooting up from the ground and bursting in a blooming flower of blue light. It was time. Lyra got up, letting out a determined snort. Shaking her coat free of the damp sand, her mane catching the gentle sea breeze, she headed out towards an unknown rendezvous with fate. After all, what other choice did she have?

Lyra didn’t have to walk far. Rounding the headland, the path passed the point where she’d first met Celandine, or ‘Six’, as she had been known then. This time a different pony awaited her. This one was expecting her. She should have known he’d be early.

“I told them you’d come,” Parchment said pleasantly. “You did the right thing, Lyra.”

“You mean I had a choice?” Lyra gave her mane a toss, flicking out a few errant lumps of sand. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the ships graveyard, imagining she could see the lights through the darkened portholes. “So, what’s the plan then?”

Parchment smiled, “There’s a sky carriage waiting for us just over there. We’ll take it to the citadel and get you settled in first. After that I’ll introduce you to everypony.”

“Gosh, you think of everything,” Lyra answered with hint of sarcasm in her voice.

The young stallion shrugged, “It pays to think ahead.”

As she followed him along the path, Lyra shook her head, “Like you did with the portal?”

Was that a slight hesitation in his voice? “Discovery,” he began, “requires experimentation.”

“That sounds rather like a quote from somewhere,” Lyra replied awkwardly. “Quotes like that can have disturbing connotations, Parchment.”

They reached the sky carriage where two pegasi were waiting for them. Parchment stopped and turned to face her, “Are you always this obtuse?”

“If by ‘obtuse’ you mean ‘sceptical’, then yes,” Lyra nodded. “You’re asking me to take a lot on trust here, miladdo. Especially,” she bobbed her head towards the silent pegasi, “after these buckers tried to turn me into kebabs the last time I ran into them.”

Parchment rolled his eyes. “Then stay here,” he said simply. “Nopony is forcing you to come.”

The stallion clambered up onto the carriage as if she simply didn’t exist. Dumbfounded, Lyra watched in a haze of confusion as he began to strap himself in. Would he really take off and leave her here? Just like that? It didn’t make any sense! Surely he- What was that?! A crack of something dry breaking, or perhaps ‘snapping’, in the nearby forest sent a shock of fright through her and she all be leaped into the carriage. “Off we go then!” she squeaked. “Let’s not keep your boss waiting, eh?” Parchment said nothing, but reached down to help an anxious Lyra into the seat harness. Moments later the carriage lumbered along the path before launching up into the chill night sky.

If there was one thing to be said about Parchment it was that he was quiet. Very quiet for that matter. The young lads black mane and tail whipped in the wind, his blue eyes as stoic as she recalled from when she’d first met him. Come to think of it, was ‘stoic’ the right word to use? Lyra wasn’t sure. In fact now that she thought about it she wasn’t entirely sure he’d been this reserved when she’d spoken to him on the dig. As a rule she didn’t bother getting to know the volunteers for two very good reasons: Firstly, they tended to stick to their own groups, especially as they were usually teenage college or university students and the like. Secondly, and most notably, because they seldom ever stayed a full season. If the hard work and less than ideal living standards hadn’t put them off, only the most dedicated would even consider coming back for another session grubbing around in the muck. In any case, Parchment’s eyes were certainly expressionless, rather like his face. Good goddesses, was this the type of youth they were they bringing into the world these days? The guy was more automaton than pony, and the way he had taken to this place felt… disturbing. The pegasi said nothing either, and yet they clearly accepted his presence as though it were the most normal thing in the world. It was a direct contrast to the way the two Lyra had met on the beach had reacted when she’d encountered them. It enforced what he’d told her earlier, if she were being charitable, but she couldn’t help but feel worried that she was making a mistake trusting him. Exactly why remained to be seen. She gave her mane a toss, shaking the hairs out of her eyes. Anyway, it wasn’t like she’d had much choice in the matter. Celandine had made her position more than clear, and as for Blue… Oh goddess, poor Blue… She could still see him there, that horrible wound on his neck, the blood glistening like rubies, and that awful, awful wail from his mare as she beheld the wreckage of her mate.

It was something she would never forget.

Thankfully though the flight didn’t take as long as Lyra would have thought. From up here, with the sparsity of any meaningful cloud cover and the sun just starting to rise over the horizon, the extent of what comprised the singular landmass known as ‘the island’ was laid out before her in all its darkened glory. Irregular in shape, the island was densely covered in jungle, the green mass of vegetation comprising at least seventy to eighty percent of the visible area. There, where smoke was rising beside some cleared fields, was what must have been the village Celandine had spoken of. Sure enough it was relatively small in size, and clearly agricultural. Lyra couldn’t see any ponies around in the dim light, although she was quite sure some would have still been milling about after watching the impromptu fireworks display. A display, oddly enough, that had been put on for her benefit. At least, that’s what Parchment had lead her to believe. The young mare shook the thought from her head and looked over the other side of the carriage taking in the sight of the bay, the extraordinary array of wrecked ships all lined up one by one. And there, off in the distance, was the small archipelago of islands where the fisher folk lived. It had been the source of the alias created for her by Celandine when the pegasi had come to call. Living there amongst that tiny collection of equine life was about as far from what her real life as you could get. She doubted her story would have stood up to even the gentlest scrutiny. She suspected the pegasus commander had know damned well it was a crock of crap too, and had overlooked the matter solely because of his connection to Celandine.

Lyra looked up and noticed they were banking towards a shadowy mass that stood out from the rest of the landscape, jutting up from the very centre of the island like the hub of a wheel. It was clearly artificial, but whatever it was left her cold despite the breaking dawn. All around that small expanse of land the sunlight glinted orange on the surface of the water, sparkling like a billion fireflies. On any other day Lyra would have considered it one of the most beautiful scenes she’d ever seen. Now it only seemed to add more shadow than light to the eldritch scene. Lyra strained to see where they were heading, to get a better look at this alien structure. And then, just as the sky carriage began to make its final approach, sunlight caught the sides of a massive tower. Her mouth hung open as it loomed up before them. It was just as Lyra had imagined, and did nothing to allay her nagging doubts. The citadel, the hub of human, zek, unicorn, or whatever the hell was in charge here, was anything but aesthetically pleasing. It was, unsurprisingly, made from the most abundently available resource of the island. And that... was metal. Thick plates of steel, liberally coated in orange rust, sat welded, rivetted, roped, or otherwise bonded together as though some gigantic foal had crushed a load of toys together and thrown them onto the island – and here they had stayed. Enormous metal walls ringed the outside, although why they were there or what could possible be so big as to need such defences was unclear, whilst in the centre stood the great tower they were now approaching. At its top was a circular structure with dozens, if not hundreds of windows. Portholes of all different shapes and sizes, doubtless scavenged from the wrecks, made it abundantly clear that this was where the seat of power was on the island. From up there you could probably see the entirety of the landmass, making escape, even if you could and knew where to go, all but impossible to do undetected. Add to that the fact you had pegasi patrolling the skies and you had the most effective prison you could ask for. Maybe Parchment had a point after all.

“We’re here.”

Lyra glanced at Parchment who was now sat bolt upright. Sure enough they were slowing down to come in for a smooth landing on a metal ledge halfway up the tower. Cut into the side were two large arched steel doors standing open ready to admit them like the mouth of some hideous monster constructed from rust and rivets. Eyes made from portholes seemed to stare down at them from above, watching Lyra’s every move as she was lead from the carriage to disappear into its cavernous maw. Behind her the doors closed with a deafening boom that had the hairs standing up all along her spine.

“This way,” Parchment said calmly. “The Maester is waiting for you.”

“Maester?” Lyra’s ears flattened at the word. She’d never come across it before, and she knew some of the more archaic terms and titles from her years of historical research. ‘Maester’ sounded like ‘Master’, and could be possibly be a warped version of that. Or maybe it was a word from antiquity she simply hadn’t encountered? Either way it sounded bloody pretentious to say the least. The owner of such a title was probably lording it up over everypony here and-

“GODS ABOVE!” Lyra leaped back in fright, throwing up a magical shield before her, “Parchment, get behind me!”

Two monstrous ‘things’ had appeared from the dark corners of the massive hall, marching towards them. The two legging beings stood at least six feet tall on wolf-like legs. They were dark grey, almost black, furred, and with a white ruff around their necks. Their heads looked like arrowheads, where two ice blue eyes as cold as the heart of winter, glowed impassively. Two small nostrils sat above a mouth that was concealed behind what may have been teeth or part of a carapace of sorts. Grey tails ending in a poof of white fur, swung from side to side. The two of them slammed to a halt, barring the way forward. Enormous arms with almost human hands, bulged out of muscular torsos. They were both armoured with blackened steel plate, their hands holding shields and spears long enough to kebab at least four ponies at once. Lyra’s mouth went dry with fear, her magic the only thing between her and the things. Behind her… Behind her was a drop to certain death. Maybe that would be preferable to one of these things getting hold of her though. Parchment however, had simply shaken his head and looked back at her with such an infuriating expression of fatherly tolerance it made her blood boil.

“What… What are they?” Lyra managed at last.

“Zeks,” Parchment said simply. “They’re here to escort us up to the Maester. Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you.”

“Are you sure about that?!” Lyra never took her eyes off the creatures, but for their part they didn’t move a muscle. They just stood there. Doing nothing.

“I’m sure.” Parchment shrugged, “If the Maester had wanted to harm you, Lyra, he wouldn’t have needed to bring you here.”

And that was that was it? Lyra peered into Parchment’s eyes which were as unreadable as ever. He did have a point of course, but the way he phrased his reply was… troubling. Reluctantly she dropped the shield and the four of them headed off, each step taking them ever deeper into the mysterious innards of the great tower.

Carpeting was apparently way down the priority list for the occupants here. Every clop of their hooves clanged like the tolling of some hellish bell, ringing out to warn the denizens of the underworld that new souls were… Goddesses, why was she thinking about things like that! She gave herself a shake and tried to occupy her overworked mind by looking at things of interest like the rusty orange walls, rusty orange floors, portholes, the occasional electric light, and – big surprise here – yet more rusty orange metalwork. No wonder she was thinking about morbid things. This whole place gave the appearance of one designed by the warped mind of a lunatic. Celestia help her, Bonnie would never believe any of this! Knowing her she’d more than likely think Lyra had lost her marbles altogether. And who could blame her? Mind you, considering Parchment’s odd manner of speech, maybe being bonkers was the norm here. Was that what happened to ponies who’d been on the island too long? Parchment hadn’t been here five minutes and he was acting as though he were… were what? She frowned in thought. Parchment had been like that when she’d first met him, hadn’t he? Damn it all, she wasn’t sure now! Lyra hadn’t paid all that much attention to him, truth be told, but what she did recall was that he was a bit too ‘matter of fact’ for her taste. Not that he wasn’t a good looking lad of course, if a bit too young for her liking, but he did have a nice arse and clearly defined musculature. With that alone ehe doubted he’d be short of a mare or two back in Equestria. Come to think of it, hadn’t there been that girl on the dig that fancied him? Eclair, Cream Puff or something… Bah! What did it matter. Bloody kids were in and out of relationships like fiddlers elbows at that age.

They began to climb a set of spiral stairs reminiscent of the type used inside Celandine and Blue’s ship - no doubt recycled like everything else here. It may have been about as aesthetically pleasing as one of those old paintings of the circles of hell, but you couldn’t fault them for being environmentally friendly. Speaking of which, it was nice and cool up here. The island had been stiflingly hot when she’d first arrived, the temperature dropping like a stone when the sun had finally gone down. With the coming of the dawn it was comfortable, but she could imagine it being like an oven in summer with all this metal around you. And what about those zek things? They were massive! The creatures were unlike anything she’d ever seen, and they were covered in fur too. If she had to guess she’d say they were related to apes, possibly, but-

“We’re here at the Maester’s request,” Parchment intoned.

Lyra gave herself a shake, returning her attention to what was happening in front of her. There were two more of the zeks, the hulking beasts flanking a wooden door which looked strangely normal. For somepony who called himself ‘Maester’, she been half expecting something more… oh, say, more sinister? Opulent maybe? What she didn’t expect was a middle aged unicorn mare sitting in a wooden chair at a large wooden desk pouring over a sheaf of paper. She didn’t look up. Lyra and Parchment waited patiently, allowing Lyra to have a good look at her surroundings. It was, rather like the mare, somewhat unremarkable. It was circular, with portholes set around the circumference. There was a set of circular stairs to an upper level, the desk, a few chairs, some paintings of sailing ships, a sideboard with glasses and spirits, and… that was about it really. The floor had been panelled in wood, as indeed had the walls to a certain degree, but it was far from the kind of place you’d expect the leader of the sinisterly named ‘Citadel’ to live. A lack of resources even here, perhaps?

“Ah, Parchment, you’re back.” The mare finally put down her pen and looked up. She was, as Parchment had alluded to, a unicorn. Her dark brown coat and snow white mane and tail were all very unremarkable, although she did have one white foreleg. Lyra had seen ponies with her colouration many times before, but it was her rich orange eyes that gave her pause. They had an almost metallic look to them, those two fathomless orbs switching from Parchment to Lyra with a disturbingly analytical sense of purpose that made her mane twitch.

“And you must be Lyra, yes?”

Lyra nodded.

“Lyra…” The brown coated mare glanced at her paperwork, “Heartstrings?”

Again, Lyra nodded.

The mare behind the desk gave a thin smile and picked up her pen in her magic, tapping it against her chin, “I take it young Parchment has informed you of the situation here?”

Situation? “Um...” Lyra cleared her throat, unsure of what to say. One thing was for sure though, she’d have to tread carefully around this mare. There was something about the seemingly innocuous female she couldn’t quite put her hoof on, but she had the impression she was somepony who you really didn’t want to cross. Come to think of it, if a pony could keep those monsters in line she had to have more going for her than just peculiar eyes. “He has,” Lyra affirmed.

“And you accepted his explanation?” the mare asked. “Without questioning its validity?”

“I...” Lyra paused. What an odd thing to ask! What in Celestia’s name was she getting at? She cleared her throat, “I had no reason to believe he would be lying to me.”

“Really? You know him that well, do you?” One corner of the mare’s mouth turned up as she scrutinised the green unicorn before her, “That’s very trusting of you.” Lyra was about to reply when the mare behind the desk clopped her hoof on the leather writing pad, “Good. Now that’s settled I shan’t have to waste any time giving pointless explanations.” She opened a drawer in her desk and took out a sheath of paper, “I understand from young Parchment here that you are a...” She poured over the notes, “a ‘singer’.”

“A musician,” Lyra corrected.

“And an archaeologist, yes?”

“That’s right.”

“Senior archaeologist?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” The maester frowned in thought, “Do you have any specific magical skills in, say, advanced thaumaturgical theory, dark matter applications, quantum mechanics or trans-corporial matter relocation?”

Lyra’s face must have been a picture when she answered, “Um… No?”

“High energy focussed T-Wave manipulation?”

“No.”

The maester glanced from Lyra to Parchment and back again, “You do have an education behind you, don’t you? I mean, they do have schools in Equestria, yes?”

“Well, yes, of course they do,” Lyra replies a little flustered. “But what you’re talking about, it’s, I don’t know, I’ve never heard of any of it before, let alone know what it all means.”

The maester closed her eyes, dropped her pen on the desk and leaned back letting out a long sigh, “Centuries of knowledge, thrown away like so much rubbish.” One eye opened, “So what can you do?” “Other than digging and playing instruments?” she added.

“Well, I...” Lyra faltered, her mind reeling. She felt like she was being interrogated by the head of her old school for not doing her homework! Steadily she took a breath, trying to relax her racing heart, and said, “I’m pretty good with telekinesis.”

“Telekinesis?”

“Yes, telekinesis.”

The maester raised an eyebrow, “The most basic form of magic that every unicorn is born with?”

Lyra felt a flash of anger surge through her. “When you put it like that, then no,” she replied testily. “It takes a hell of a lot of time and effort to learn how to multi-task with telekinesis. I need to be able to pluck the strings and work the fret at the same time, sometimes in front of dozens if not hundreds of ponies.” She huffed slightly, “It takes years of practice and dedication to get that good, madam. That’s not something you’re just ‘born with’, you know.”

“Oh?”

“Damned right it’s not!” Lyra tossed her mane. “Most unicorns I know can only use their magic for one thing at a time. Splitting your concentration doesn’t just come to you without putting in long hours of bloody hard work.”

“I see.” The maester shook her head slowly, something that made Lyra’s mane twitch in irritation. “And that’s it, is it?”

Lyra stared at her, trying to keep her bubbling anger under control, “Mostly. I can conjure a shield too.”

“Mmm, and why would you need to be able to ‘conjure’ such a thing?” the maester asked. “In your kind of work I mean.”

Lyra took a deep breath, “Because audiences can get rowdy at times, that’s why.”

“You normally have things thrown at you during your… ‘performances’?”

“My-?!” Lyra gritted her teeth, “Listen you, I came here because-”

“You ‘came here’ because you want to get off this island,” the maester interrupted unexpectedly. “You ‘came here’ because Parchment went to collect you and you had no choice. Not unless you wanted to stay living amongst the mud ponies and beasts of the forest.” Her strange eyes flashed, “I need unicorns who have a firm grasp of magic to help with my project here, girl, not cheap conjurors who have things thrown at them when they’re flailing at a lump of wood and string!” She rose to her hooves, her eyes boring into Lyra’s. “I cannot believe that unicorns in Equestria have…” She scrunched up her mouth as though dealing with a particularly nasty taste, “devolved so far that they don’t even have the most basic grasp of spell casting and, gods forbid, teleportation!” She took a deep breath, “I suppose I shouldn’t be that surprised. From what Parchment has told me, the alicorns have controlled the population the way a dog breeder selects his pups.” Her hooves dug into the leather pad, “However, let me tell you, Miss Heartstrings, that everypony pulls their weight here. And unless you wish to join the mud grubbing masses scrabbling in the shit outside, then I suggest you put your ‘multi-tasking’ to good use and find something useful you can do other than party tricks and foolishness fit for a foal’s birthday party!”

“Huh! Well buck me, some welcome this is,” Lyra snorted.

The maester glowered up at Lyra from under her eyebrows, “Count yourself lucky you’re getting one at all. Unicorns on this island die outside our walls, girl. You should be down on your knees giving thanks to the gods that I’ve taken you in.” The corner of her mouth curled up again, “However, you still have a chance to show your worth to us all. I suggest you use it.” She turned to the male who had stood as still and silent as a statue throughout, “Parchment, see our newest arrival to her rooms.”

“Yes, Maester.”

Lyra nearly jumped out of her hide. Goddess help her, she’d all but forgotten he was there! Then, just as she was about to leave, she took a deep breath and said, “On the beach two of your feathered goons tried to kill me. They said I was ‘tainted’.” She fixed the brown mare with a hard look, “How come the two who came to pick me up didn’t try to kill me too? Or Parchment for that matter. I thought the zeks were in charge here?”

The two mares watched each other for a time, neither willing to look away. Finally the master broke the silence, “The peasants believe the zeks are in charge because I choose it to be so. As for being ‘tainted’, it is expedient to my plans that such primitive beliefs are kept firmly in place. Your untimely appearance was an unforeseen event which lead to the unfortunate incident on the beach.” The maester sighed, sitting back down in her chair. “One of the stallions in question has been disciplined for that debacle. As for the other,” she shrugged, “I believe you are already aware of what happened to him, yes?”

Lyra nodded.

“Good,” the mare said wearily. “Now, go. I do so hate being questioned.” As Parchment began to lead Lyra out, the maester called, “Oh, and Parchment?

“Yes, Maester?”

“I will require your attendance tonight. I have informed the majordomo to have your bath ready for eight o’clock.”

“Yes, Maester.”

“Oh, yes, and make sure Miss Heartstrings is put through processing, will you?” The brown coated mare wrinkled her nose, “She reeks.”

The door closed with heavy finality, right before Lyra was about to give, what she hoped, would have been a witty and doubtless scathing retort. Having a muzzle full of door didn’t have quite the same impact. Still, at least it hadn’t actually impacted with her muzzle, or else that really would have put the top hat on it all… the stupid bitch! Lyra’s ears flattened as she turned to face the infuriatingly impassive Parchment. “Well?” she snapped, “Aren’t you going to lead me away to my cell like you mistress told you?”

Parchment merely looked away and began heading off down another corridor, clearly expecting her to follow. She did. What choice did she have? Luna’s rump, she didn’t like this situation. Not one little bit. The arrogance of that creature was astonishing! ‘Maester’ indeed! All clip and no clop, as her mother used to say of mouthy ponies. So, she thought Lyra was crap at magic did she? Well, granted she may have been reasonably correct in that regard, but still, there was no need to ram it in her face like that! And what the hell was she expecting her to do anyway? If she was so bloody special then how come she hadn’t worked out how to find a way off this island already? She noted how they were descending now, heading ever downward into what turned out to be a large corridor with oval metal doors that looked suspiciously like everything else around here – scavenged from the beached vessels. Ha! And she had the affront to turn her muzzle up at the ‘mud grubbers’ when she was living in the very stuff they’d found on the beach! Gods above, what an attitude. She’d come across unicorns who looked down on earth ponies as though they were little more than tools to be used and discarded before. Their approach to pegasi was much the same, although they were appreciated as essential for transportation – essentially glorified delivery ponies, soldiers, and taxi drivers. Some things never changed, and prejudice was never that far from the surface. Passed down from generation to generation, bigotry was ingrained today as much today as it always had been. Celestia and Luna had done their best to change ponies hearts, and they’d done wonders in that regard. Unfortunately no matter how much ponies may say openly that they didn’t discriminate against one another, the truth of the matter was that they did – they just didn’t say anything openly. This ‘Maester’ character had no such social niceties to contend with. Rather she simply said what she thought. What was Lyra to say to that? It wasn’t as though she were in a position to challenge her opinion of earth ponies, as if she did then she might find herself taking a one way ticket to the digestive system of one of the bloody ‘chock’ things.

As if in answer to her brooding, Parchment cleared his throat. “I suggest you don’t antagonise her,” he offered. “The Maester does not take criticism, or dissent, well.”

“Oh, doesn’t she?” Lyra retorted. “What a bloody shame.” She frowned in thought, “You know, for a young lad who arrived here barely five minutes before I got here, you didn’t waste any time getting your conniving little hooves under the table.” She let out an ironic snort, “Warming the boss’s bed already, are you?”

The young stallion glanced at Lyra. “I do what I need to to survive,” he said simply. “And you’re wrong, I haven’t been here ‘five minutes’.” He took a breath before adding, “I’ve been here just over six months.”

Lyra’s brow furrowed, “You’ve what?” She suddenly barked out a laugh at the ridiculous assertion. “Did you bang your head or something? You only went missing the night before I went through the portal looking for your sorry bones. Goddesses give me strength, are they doing something to your-”

For the first time, Parchment’s emotions surfaced in a flash that made Lyra stop in her tracks. “Time is distorted in the portal,” he announced unexpectedly. “Maybe you didn’t notice as you, like me, didn’t have any point of reference. But I can assure you that it has been a lot longer than ‘five minutes’ since I arrived here. The Maester and her ponies have been looking after me ever since.” Lyra noticed the twitch under his eye as he added, “I owe her my life, Lyra. If I have to do… certain things… to help make her comfortable, then I will do it gladly. And willingly.”

So, he was the maester’s bed warmer, was he? If that were the case then it was doubtful Lyra would get any information out of him that was unbiased. However he may still prove to be a useful asset if push came to shove. For now though she’d play along and see just what was going on here. If the shit hit the fan then Parchment’s loyalty to his buck-buddy may not prove to be as cast iron as the odd eyed mare apparently thought. The lad was still an Equestrian, and if he had a chance to get off the miserable island then he’d take it in a heartbeat. She was sure of that. Mind you, if what Parchment had said was true, then they may be close to getting out of here anyway. The maester seemed to know her stuff, so perhaps it would be best to ride the waves and see where the current took her. Still, two weeks! No wonder he was acting the way he was.

“Okay, Parchment, I understand.” Lyra gave the lad a gentle smile, “I didn’t mean to offend you, or your friend back there.”

The stallion shook his head, “You didn’t offend me. Just, please, take a word of advice: don’t piss her off. These zeks, they don’t mess around, Lyra.” He shivered noticeably. “I saw them… do things to a guy who…” He paused, swallowing, “Look, just watch what you do and say. Please.”

“Sure thing, Parchment,” Lyra assured him, trying to look sincere. “If she wants my help in getting us off this island, then I can play nice.”

The stallion looked so pathetically relieved it made her feel like laughing. “Thanks,” he said with a nod. They’d stopped by a room that had a faded sign above the door. It was, unsurprisingly, in a language she couldn’t read. “It says ‘Boat Deck’,” Parchment announced as though reading her mind. “Room twenty seven A.”

Lyra rounded on him in astonishment, “You can read Human?!”

“I can read some words of ‘English’, yes,” came the slightly sarcastic reply. “They have more than one country the same as our world. And like our world, not everypony speaks the same language. English is the most common one I’ve encountered. It’s not that dissimilar to Equestrian when you take the time to study it.”

Take the time to study it? In six months?! Lyra shook her head in amazement, “And of course, you know so much about it, right?”

“A lot more than you, apparently.” Parchment’s expression never wavered, “I’ve been here six months, remember?”

“So you said,” Lyra replied, rolling her eyes. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Neither can I,” Parchment mumbled.

The unexpectedly honest response took Lyra by surprise. It was the first display of openness she’d seen from the young lad since she’d been reacquainted with him. She pushed the door open and pulled him inside, slamming it shut behind them. “Right you, spill it,” Lyra huffed, bringing her muzzle close to his. “Something stinks to high heaven about all this, Parchment, and I’m not talking about my coat either. What the hell’s really going on here?”

Parchment blinked, “I don’t-”

“And you can cut that ‘I don’t know’ shit out, straight away!” Lyra snapped. “Come on, Parchment, for goodness sake we’re both Equestrians here. This world, or this ‘island’, is a bloody hell hole! Now, I want to get out of here as much as you do, so please, just be honest with me. Please?”

If Lyra had expected Parchment to burst into a rant about life here on the island, or unveil some deeply hidden secret about the citadel, then she was about to be gravely disappointed. Parchment opened his mouth to speak just as the door thumped open, catching the unfortunate stallion in the rump and making him grunt in pain. It was a zek. The looming creature more than filled the doorway, and then some.

“I have to go,” Parchment said, his voice lowered.

“Go? Go where?” Lyra asked. The way he said it sounded so ominous it made her neck quiver. She stared up at the zek who simply stood there… looming. It seemed to be their one special talent, other than intimidating young ponies.

“The work assessor will be coming to speak to you shortly,” Parchment said mechanically. “Please make yourself comfortable until then.” He pointed to a door in the corner of the room, “The shower’s there, and there’s plenty of soap and towels for you to use.”

Lyra blinked, “Um, yeah… Thanks.”

The door closed leaving Lyra to her own devices. For a while she just stared at the space where Parchment had been standing only a moment ago. He’d been about to say something to her when that bloody great hairy thing had rolled up. Had it been following them? It hadn’t been there a minute earlier, she’d checked the corridor before closing the door, and… She scrunched up her face and swore under her breath. There was some seriously shady nonsense going on here, and she was beginning to think that leaving Blue and Celandine hadn’t been such a good idea. If she’d had a choice in the matter of course, but then she hadn’t had she?

“If wishes were humans, ponies would ride,” Lyra mumbled, turning to inspect the room. “Well, Lyra old girl, let’s have a look at our presidential suite, eh?”

‘Presidential’ it was not by any stretch of the imagination, however the cabin was still very well appointed. A bed, no doubt made for one or two humans, was the main feature, with cupboards and drawers clearly designed for beings with hands. Thankfully Lyra had that covered, magicking up her own glowing yellow version of that most versatile of human appendages to make short work of her ‘urban exploration’. There were pamphlets in one drawer showing colour pictures of humans, and… was that a human female? She’d never actually seen one of course, but there were certain traits present that certainly suggested that was the case. The creature had noticeably softer features than the male, a longer mane, and looked more ‘gentle’ somehow. They two of them were pretty much the same height, but the artist had depicted the male as physically stronger with a more ‘business like’ appearance. He was also smoking a pipe, a predominantly male habit back home, whereas the ‘female’ was wearing a dress and a pinny almost identical to the one Lyra had in the kitchen at home. A pair of smaller humans stood next to them, similarly dressed in smaller versions of what the adults were wearing. Lyra had seen pamphlets like this back home in Equestria, often shoved through your letter box along with adverts for the local pizza parlour or charity. Usually they were trying to get you to buy something or sign up to something you’d normally never consider in a million years. Generally it all went straight into the recycling bin or shoved into a drawer with other fifty pamphlets you hadn’t gotten around to throwing out yet. This one however was clearly meant to portray a perceived ideal of a human family. The fact they were all smiling and posing in front of a neat little house on a perfectly sunny day left the reader in no doubt about that. What the pamphlet was actually about was hard to say due to the alien language. Lyra could just about make out the odd word, but it was all but impossible to make anything but wild guesses as to its creators intended message.

The female human, if indeed that was what it was, had quite a pronounced chest compared to the male. She looked closer, feeling along her own chest, down to where her own ‘female parts’ were. The human was fully clothed so she couldn’t tell for sure how different they were anatomically speaking, however they apparently reproduced the same way ponies did. Walking in on Blue and Celandine had sure driven that point home! She felt her cheeks and ears heat up at the memory and quickly shut the drawer. The next drawer held a book with nothing but text, however the way it was structured, with the gold embossed cross on the front, gave her the impression it held particular significance to the humans. A religious text perhaps? Again she could read the odd word, but even then she wasn’t sure she was right. Damn it all, she hadn’t even asked Blue about any of it before he… Oh, gods, what a nightmare this was! Hopefully Celandine would be alright, although the way things had looked when she’d left her, she doubted it. There was nothing she could do about it now anyway. Lyra gave herself a hard shake, trying in some measure to rid herself of the horrible images that kept popping up in her mind whenever she let her guard down. Right now she had other things to think about. Like a shower.

The bathroom which was immediately off the main bedroom was predictably small, doubtless made for taller creatures than herself. Turning around without bumping into the polished ceramic utilities was proving to be a touch awkward, and not a little frustrating too. Thankfully the impending feeling of claustrophobia was kept at bay by leaving the door to the bathroom open. So long as there were no unexpected visitors in the next few minutes she’d be able to do what all civilised creatures did when the opportunity arose – to wash. What was incredible was how similar to Equestrian plumbing the bathroom was. Hot water sprayed out of the shower head, controlled nicely with a little cold to get the temperature just right. The soap too, not quite as floral as she’d like, was perfect for her needs right then. And boy, did she need it! Lyra groaned, looking up at the shower head as the water soaked though her fur, sluicing the filth, sweat and fear away down the drain. Gods, something so simple, so basic, was like a little slice of heaven in this hellscape. She let her mind roam free, revelling in the mechanics of washing. After this a nap would just hit the spot.

Chapter Seven - Alien technology

Dreams. Not always an enjoyable experience, and sadly one where there is little control over the situation by the dreamer themselves. For most the recipient of the dream is more akin to an extra in a film of their own minds creation rather than the actual director. For Lyra this was most definitely one of those times, and for all the worst reasons. Elements of her past, and in this particular case some very recent events, played back through her mind with horrifying lucidity. In her dream she was running, running along the beach for all she was worth with something black and shapeless racing after her. Her legs felt like lead, sucked into the sand as she screamed in terrified silence for them to move. The thing was gaining, lolloping over the beach in effortless bounds. She opened her mouth to cry out, but nothing emerged. She was tackled, brought to the ground, yet not matter how much she struggled she couldn’t get away. Each leg was pinned, burning with the futility of desperate effort that refused to move her even so much as an inch away from the encroaching spectre of death. Long, yellowed teeth loomed, the foetid breath of the beast drawing nearer by the second. And all the while, Parchment stood there watching her like an equine statue, in absolute silence. She was going to die, torn apart and eaten, piece after succulent piece. All whilst Parchment watched her impassively.

Help! She cried in silence. Parchment, please, help me!

“I told you to keep the door shut.” Lyra tried to pull away, her eyes turning to stare in open mouthed horror at the blood soaked face of Blue looking down at her. “Why, Lyra?” he asked quietly. “Why did you open the door?”

The door.

There was a knock at the door.

“OH, GODDESS!”

A maroon coated stallion was stood in the doorway staring at her. “Not quite,” he said levelly. “Miss Heartstrings I believe?”

Lyra sat bolt upright on the bed. Sweat was pouring off her and she was breathing hard. So much for having a shower! Brushing her mane out of her eyes her attention now locked onto the newcomer, “Who are you?”

“My name is Avanta,” the stallion replied. “I am the work assessor for the citadel.”

“Oh, right, Parchment said you were coming...” Lyra hung her head and groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Don’t they teach you to knock before barging into a lady’s room, Avanta?”

“I did knock,” the stallion stated. “Several times in fact.”

Lyra shook her head before swinging her hind legs off the bed, “Ah… So you did.” Dropping to all fours she smacked her lips and took a swig of water from the pitcher beside the bed. “What time is it?”

“Time for work,” Avanta said simply.

And then, right on cue, came the deafening roar of a dozen different whistles, horns, and only goddess knew what. The blaring sound seemed to make the whole citadel shake, and she felt her insides shiver in concert with the vibration.

“Celestia’s ears!” Lyra yelled over the cacophony. “What the buggering hell is that racket for?!”

Avanta merely stood and waited until the sound died away. “Time,” he reiterated, “for work. Now.”

And so it was.

Dutifully, Lyra followed the maroon unicorn stallion out the door and along the literal maze of corridors and hallways which comprised the citadel complex. As for Avanta himself, strange name aside, he seemed a fairly ordinary fellow. A little stiff perhaps, he reminded her of a butler her grandmother had employed on her estate out west. Come to think of it, Parchment would have been a natural for that kind of work. Both of them looked as though they’d swallowed ironing boards too. Miserable sods. Damn it all, she couldn’t stand the silence!

“Hey, Avanta?”

The stallion didn’t reply.

“Um, that’s an usual name you’ve got there,” Lyra tried. “Old Equestrian, isn’t it?”

There was a long delay before, “Apparently.”

“Oh.” Lyra rolled her eyes, “Anything you can tell me about my ‘work assignment’?” It was worth a try.

Grey eyes peered back at her for a moment, “All work on the project is in line with the maester’s current requirements.”

“O-kay...” Lyra waited to see if he was going to elaborate. He didn’t. “So what’s this project we’ll be working on?”

Avanta sounded a little surprised, “Did the maester not explain it to you?”

“You mean this master portal thing?” Lyra nodded. “Well, yes, she did. Sort of. But she didn’t say how close it was to completion, or what I’d be doing to help, you know, to get it working?”

The purple stallion let out light huff of air, “Only the maester knows when the project will be complete. As for what you will be doing to ‘help’,” he glanced at her with those inscrutable grey eyes, “you have already been assessed, and an appropriate task commensurate with your thaumaturgical capacity and skill level has been determined to make best use of your… ‘special talents’.”

“Aha! Now that’s more like it!” Lyra beamed.

They rounded a corner and passed between two zek guards who were stood outside a large set of double doors. Beyond these was a large, and impressively spacious, domed room. Big enough to rival the library at the palace, the ceiling must have been around forty feet high at least, covered in portholes and other styles of window which combined let in an extraordinary amount of light. Lyra shielded her eyes, trying to take it all in. Gods, it was so bright in here! Not only that, but everywhere she looked there were unicorns. Lots of unicorns! Without exception they were all busying around like worker bees, each one of them carrying a clipboard, making notes, working on various machines, connecting cables, wires, and goodness knows what else. Lights of every colour blinked in a display that would have made a fantastic backdrop to one of her gigs. And the sound too! The machines clicked, whirled and hummed with a music all their own. All in all this was, almost literally, the very definition of a ‘hive of activity’. None of it made any sense to Lyra. However there was one thing she did recognise, and that was the enormous round structure sitting there in the middle of the room. It may have been a different shape and covered in strange markings, but there was no mistaking the peculiar aura of power the thing was giving off.

“The master portal,” Lyra muttered.

Avanta paused to look at her. “You’ve seen one before?” he asked quizically.

“Not a ‘master’ portal,” Lyra replied staring at the thing in awe. “But I’ve travelled by portal before, not two days back in fact.”

The maroon coated stallion watched her in silence as if seeing her in a new light. “Interesting,” he finally said quietly. “We may need to run some tests.”

“Eh?” Lyra blinked.

“Now then,” Avanta began, ignoring her, “your work assignment...” He walked over to a cupboard, opened it, and began pulling things out. Lyra’s eyes went wide in anticipation. What would she be doing? Helping tune the magical harmonics perhaps? She was good with music, so it wouldn’t be that different from-

“Here you go.”

“Great!” Lyra clopped her hooves together, “What do you want me to-” She stared down at the things he’d placed before her.

“The floor around the portal is to be kept swept and to remain free from dust, contaminants and particulates,” Avanta intoned. “You will be required to begin work an hour before the horns sound so you can mop the floor and give it time to dry. Mopping is to be completed once more at the end of the work cycle.”

“I… You...” Lyra tripped over her words, “You want me to sweep the floor?!”

“And mop.” The stallion nodded towards the cupboard, “Everything you need is in there. Any problems, I will be passing by every hour to ensure standards are being maintained. Make sure that you avoid any cables, machinery or...” He paused, “Actually it would be best if you didn’t touch anything at all.”

Lyra couldn’t believe what she was hearing, “Hang on, this is-”

“Lunch is at twelve. Evening meals at six.”

“-bull…” Lyra watched him walk away. “...shit… Oh, goddess, what the hell is going on here?” The green mare lifted her head and looked around at the ponies working away on whatever it was they were working on. The strange equipment and machinery here was definitely not equestrian, that was for damned sure. By the looks of it they must have stripped the humans ships for everything they could get their hooves on – kitchen sink and all. As for where the humans were in this hive of activity, who knew? All Lyra had seen so far was unicorns and zeks. The zeks, experts in standing intimidatingly still for hours on end, did precisely that. You didn’t have to look far to see one either, and they all looked remarkable similar too – if not identical. In fact they looked like… soldiers? Lyra frowned in thought. Perhaps they were. There were things on this island that the ponies here were vulnerable to, so it made sense to have a defence force of sorts. Gods, she wouldn’t like to go hoof to hoof with one of those gorillas! Saying that, the ponies here paid them about as much attention as her, which wasn’t saying much. Not one of them had said anything to her since she’d arrived. But still… Cleaning?!

“Miserable bastards...” And thus, mop held in her magic and a bucket full of hot soapy water, Lyra set to work cleaning up a spill of some kind of liquid one of the ponies had-

A loud clatter of metal and the sound of sloshing water was accompanied by some of the most extensive swearing Lyra had ever heard.

“Hey, watch were you’re leaving stuff like that, dummy!” A peach coated unicorn mare stood shaking her wet hoof, her gaze taking in Lyra as if she were the local village idiot. “Who in Lode’s name are you?”

“Pleased to meet you,” Lyra replied pleasantly. “Generalissimo Pancake Batter, First Sea Lord of the Sandwich Isles.” She waved a hoof towards the portal, “Coming along well, is it?”

“Coming along…???” The confused mare looked helplessly from the upended mop bucket, to Lyra, then to the portal. “Why, yes, yes it is. If all goes well, why, I should think we’d...” She paused. “Just a minute, where in Lode’s name are the Sandwich Isles?” Her eyes narrowed, “Who the hell are you? Speak, girl!”

Lyra rolled her eyes, “Nice to see you have a sense of humour, friend.” She huffed noisily, “I’m the new girl. Name’s Lyra, Lyra Heartstrings: Musician to the masses, breaker of hearts, and subject of many a young stallion’s perverted dreams. And you are?”

“My name is Hesta, Deputy Chief Researcher at the citadel,” the mare said haughtily. “And you, Miss Heartstrings, had better curtail that ‘sense of humour’ if you are to continue residing here in the citadel. Otherwise you may well find yourself-”

“In the jungle?” Lyra suggested.

“In the jungle,” the mare confirmed with a nod. She paused for a moment, eyeing her up and down. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before. How did you get here exactly?”

Lyra jerked a hoof over her shoulder, “Through that door over there. If you give it a push it just swings open and-”

Hesta stamped a hoof, “Not this room, you idiot, I meant to the island!”

Lyra smiled wickedly, “Temper management not your forte, is it Hesta?”

“I’m not used to dealing with smart arses, if that’s what you mean,” Hesta snorted imperiously. “Now, you will answer my question or I will have you reported and we’ll see how much you enjoy cleaning the sewage pipes. Am I making myself clear?”

Lyra swallowed, “Crystal.”

“Capital,” the lab coat wearing mare replied. “Now, let’s start from the top shall we?”

“Shoot.”

“Right then. Where are you from?”

“Equestria.”

“I see. And whereabouts in ‘Equestria’?”

“Ponyville,” Lyra said with a smile, ignoring the sarcastic pronunciation of her home. “Although I wasn’t born there, I live there now with my friend.”

“Of course you did,” came the smirking reply. “And you just happened to ‘appear’ here on the island ‘just like that’, did you? In a puff of magic perhaps?”

Lyra’s expression never changed. “Nope,” she said pleasantly, “I came through the portal in the jungle.”

“The portal in the...” Hesta paused, adjusting her spectacles as though the green mare was out of focus. For a few seconds she stared at Lyra intently, then to the green mare’s surprise suddenly exclaimed, “Dear Lode!” She looked over her shoulder and shouted to one of the other ponies, “Isanderia, come over here will you?”

Another unicorn, a stallion this time, dutifully trotted over. “What is it? I’m trying to work here you know.” He looked down, “Why’s there water everywhere?”

“Never mind the bloody water,” Hesta snorted. “This girl’s just travelled through the jungle portal!”

“The jungle portal?” The male’s eyes went wide as the novelty of this apparently revelatory information sunk in. “Oh, come on! She’s pulling your leg, Hesta. Nopony’s come through there in centuries.”

“You think so?” Hesta bobbed his head towards Lyra, “What about that new lad, Pancake or whatever his name is. You know, the brown coated fellow?”

“Ha! I’ll believe it when I see it,” Isanderia retorted dismissively. “Have you seen him yet?”

Hesta shook her head, “Only at a distance, but Jade told me-”

“Jade?” The male chuckled, “The same Jade who said that humans could travel underwater in sealed metal tubes? That Jade?”

Hesta’s temper made her cheeks flush red, her irritation at the incalcitrant Isanderia growing by the second. She changed tack. “You know all the unicorns in the citadel, don’t you?” she asked. “I mean, you’re always boasting how you can remember all their names, right?” Hesta jabbed a hoof at Lyra, “Recognise her, do you? How many cutie marks like that have you seen recently?”

Isanderia sighed and turned to Lyra, looking her up and down. “Hmm, you’re right, I don’t recognise her.” He huffed under his breath, “There is a simpler explanation of course. We’ve heard of unicorns living in the jungle instead of being brought here like they should be. That would be more believable than a portal suddenly coming back to life after all this time. We’ve both examined that portal and it’s as dead the proverbial.”

“She says she’s from Equestria,” Hesta tried.

“Oh, well of course!” Isanderia laughed. “And I’ve just grown wings!”

“If you do I may be able to introduce you to the princesses,” Lyra chimed in. “Alicorns are in high demand these days.”

Both ponies fell silent, turning to stare at her. “Alicorns...” Hesta closed her eyes and swallowed, “And what would the names be of these… Alicorns?”

Lyra frowned, “Well, let’s see… There’s Luna, the princess of the night, she’s the younger sister of Celestia, the princess of the sun. Then of course there’s Cadence, but what she’s the princess of I haven’t got a clue. She’s married to-”

“Stop!” Isanderia looked around in alarm, making sure nopony was looking their way. “Lode above, girl, do you want to be thrown to the chocks?”

The green mare let out a loud sigh and clucked her tongue, “Look, what do you want me to tell you? For the goddesses sake, all I was doing was excavating that bloody tower and the damned thing came back to life. One of my team, Parchment as you’ve already mentioned, started pissing about with the damned thing and the next thing I know he’s come blundering in here like the dullard he is. I only came through myself because these dickheads blew it up and-”

Hesta’s eyes went wide, “Blew it up?! What the hell do you-”

Something Lyra had said had hit home with Isanderia. His hoof shot out, forestalling Hesta’s impending rant. “You said ‘tower’. You did, didn’t you?” He and Hesta shared a look before he turned back to Lyra, “What tower? Did it have a name?”

Lyra nodded, “Well, we’re not absolutely certain of course, but we think it’s Galeus’ tower. It belonged to-”

“By Lode’s beard, this is just what we were looking for!” Isanderia exclaimed.

“It is?” Lyra asked.

Ignoring her, Isanderia clopped his hooves together. “You there,” he called to other ponies, “bring the thauma-wave spectographer and the convergence detector. Quickly!”

What happened next was a veritable whirlwind of scientific wizardry that probably meant something profound to somepony somewhere, but certainly not to Lyra. Normally she considered herself to be a fairly streetwise mare, a little flirty maybe… okay, perhaps a lot flirty, but more than capable of handling herself in unusual and, dare she say it, dangerous situations. This one however had her head spinning with all the shouting, rushing about, clip board waving and machine noise to the point where she just gave up and let them get on with whatever it was they were doing. The lab coat wearers ran around like the residents of some equine ant hill that had been disturbed, all of them dashing about with no discernible purpose. Although with this lot, co-ordinated by Hesta and Isanderia, somehow things were happening. As she stood there, machinery began to appear around her, moved about on castors, sitting on top of hastily moved tables, or simply dumped on top of some convenient surface. Other ponies scurried about with bundles of cables, plugging them in here, passing them over this or under that. Eventually the storm of activity gradually subsided, and the ponies stood back to admire their work. Lyra looked down at herself in the chair, covered from muzzle to hoof in a bewildering array of apparatus that blinked and flashed with numerous coloured lights.

Gods, I look like a bloody Hearthswarming tree! Lyra thought to herself sourly. She cleared her throat, “Um, would somepony like to tell me what the buck is going on here?”

“Shush!” Hesta said, waving a hoof.

Isanderia, ignoring Lyra’s concerns, was talking to another pony and taking notes. Magic glowed all around and then abruptly stopped altogether. “Okay everypony, we’re going to take a baseline reading,” he announced. “No magic any of you or we’ll have to start again, understand?” There was a general nodding and an increasing intensity of staring. Lyra, certainly no novice when it came to being the centre of attention, found this whole experience far from comforting even so.

“Excuse me, can somepony please-”

“Will you shush!” It was Hesta again, “We’re just taking notes to see if there’s anything-” Now she was getting the evil eye from Isanderia. She lowered her voice, “Look, just be quiet, okay?”

Equipment slowly started to hum, whirring and clicking mechanically.

“Hmm, not much on the background readings. Yelst, what have you got on the red line?”

“We’re averaging around fourteen.”

“A little higher than normal then.” Isanderia held up a hoof, “We’ll try the high frequency spectrum oscillations next. Hesta, if you’ll do the honours.”

Hesta flicked a switch on an odd looking device that stood around four feet high on a circular track around Lyra’s chair. The befuddled green mare almost leaped in fright as the thing started to rumble forward, passing around her as light played against her fur. To her surprise she felt absolutely nothing, except perhaps for a curious tingling that had her fur standing on end as though in a field of static electricity. ‘Electricity’… A word she’d learned from Blue. That stuff was being wielded by these ponies as surely as magic. I wonder what he would say if he knew?she pondered. In fact she wondered how ponies would react in Equestria if they had seen even a fraction of what she had since she’d arrived in this upside down world of crazy. And crazy it certainly was. As she sat there she let it all flow over her: the unusual sensations, the words which meant absolutely nothing, and of course the startled, occasionally excited, reactions of the lab coat wearing unicorns.

“By the spirits, that’s it!” one of them shouted suddenly. “Look at this, it’s got to be it. It has to be!”

The ponies all hurried over to see what the first one was indicating on one of the machines. A paper readout that showed a long wavy black line was being held up for examination. Whatever it signified apparently meant something of considerable significance.

Isanderia scratched his chin in thought, “Maybe… maybe...”

It was all a bit much for Hesta. “What do you mean, ‘maybe’?” she nickered. “Good grief, Sandy, look at it! This is the wave we’ve been looking for all this time! All those years of testing the harmonics, listening, trying and-”

The stallion placed a placating hoof on her shoulder, “I know, Hesta, but you know as well as I do how it worked out the last time we got all excited about this mythical ‘golden frequency’.”

Hesta shot him a dark look, “It’s not a myth, Sandy.”

“I know that,” Isanderia sighed, “but it may as well be. For now at least.” At the mare’s distressed look he smiled, addressing the rest of them, “Listen up, all of you. What we’ve seen here today…” He shook his head with an expression of gentle, almost fatherly, kindness, “It’s incredible. Simply incredible. Heck, I know we can all agree with that!” He glanced at Hesta as he continued, “But this is unprecedented. As such we can’t leap to conclusions and plough ahead blindly without taking proper precautions first. If we did that, then all our work, everything we’ve done up to this point, could be for nought.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” one of the mares asked. “We’ve worked for years on this, decades in fact, to get to this very moment. And now, just when we’re so close, you want us to take baby steps?!”

There was some agreement with those sentiments, but Isanderia once again gave them all that patriarchal smile of his, “Yes. That is exactly what we must do, or else we could end up inviting nothing but disaster.”

“How so?” a stallion asked. “Damn it all, Sandy, we’re so close I can taste it!”

Isanderia closed his eyes, making a show of sighing before he lifted both muzzle and voice, “You don’t think I can’t?” he asked powerfully. “You don’t think I want to get us, all of us, off this island and back to our real home? Lode’s breath, can you really think I’d delay even so much as a second if I thought we could finally conclude multiple lifetimes of work?” He looked at them all, staring deep into their eyes. “No, and you know damned well I wouldn’t.” The stallion stomped a hoof for emphasis, “We have an opportunity now, and I will not allow it to be squandered because of bull-headedness. We will take our data, analyse it the same as we always have, and then, when we can put it into practice, we will.” His eyes sparkled, “We’ll be going home soon enough.” He turned to Hesta, “All of us.”

Hesta seemed a little hesitant but then hung her head with a faint smile playing across her lips, “Thanks. I think… I think I just needed to hear somepony say that.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Isanderia said gently. “Come, let’s leave our guest here to her task whilst we make the most of what we’ve uncovered today.”

As though somepony had pulled the plug out of the bath, the ponies surrounding Lyra radiated out away from her, leaving her sat on the chair where only moments ago she’d been the centre of more attention than she’d ever been at even the largest of her gigs. Now the equipment had been wheeled away, the monitoring machines, cables, wires and general detritus of the scientist’s world, vanishing as though it had all been a daydream. Had she been daydreaming? It all seemed… so real…

“I see you found the mop bucket.”

Lyra looked up and nearly yelped in surprise as one of the ponies pulled the seat out from under her, taking it away to some unknown destination. She looked around, finally noticing the familiar stallion staring at her. “Oh, it’s you,” she muttered. “What’s the matter, found some more shit for me to shovel?”

Avanta raised one of his bushy eyebrows, “By the looks of things here, you’re more than capable of making enough of that without me finding any for you.” He motioned towards the spilled water, Tracks made from wheeled equipment and hooves spread out from it, with her at the epicentre – all there was left of her brush with ‘science’. “Come on, make some effort, Miss Heartstrings,” the stallion continued. “If you expect us to feed and provide for you, the least you can do is contribute to the community with a little hard work, yes?”

“Oh, yes,” Lyra sneered, “What fun!” She snapped off a sarcastic salute, “I’ll just crack on with swabbing the decks then, eh, Cap’n?”

Clearly unused to sarcasm, Avanta merely nodded and turned away. A moment later he paused, “I did say to sweep first, Miss Heartstrings, but on this occasion I’ll let it slide. Even an adult has to be given some leniency when they are… ‘new’ to something.” Lyra bit back a reply as he continued, “Your evening meal will be sent to your room.”

Lyra was surprised, “What, no mess hall?” she called standing on her hind legs, her forelegs held out expectantly. The citadel’s work assigner either didn’t hear her or simply decided to ignore her. In either case he just walked away, leaving her to her task. “Buck it,” Lyra snorted, and with a flash of her magic snatched up the mop and began the onerous task of cleaning up the mess the other ponies had made.

The evening came late in these parts. Brilliant sunshine beat through the windows turning the large domed chamber into a highly effective greenhouse. Good for plants perhaps, but not for a certain green mare who stumbled dejectedly over to the cupboard and all but threw the mop bucket and mop inside before making a half hearted attempt to close it. A string of highly colourful expletives followed. What the hell was she supposed to do? She was a singer, not a bloody cleaner! Gods above, could things get any worse?! Nopony had come looking for her, and it was starting to look increasingly unlikely they ever would. To make matters worse, Bon Bon would no doubt be sick with worry by now, if not already convinced she was dead and gone. This was made all the more likely by what Parchment had told her about the weird way time worked between Equestria and… wherever the hell ‘here’ was. Add to that the fact that Blue, the only human she’d ever met, was dead, and probably because of her own dimwitted stupidity. Perhaps it was some sort of divine punishment that she found herself stuck in a hot house sweating cobs, all the while being poked and prodded like some damnable lab rat! Well sod this for a game of soldiers, she was going to find out what the hell was-

“Thanks for your help today.”

“I… Huh?” Lyra had a double take and turned to stare at the mare, “Oh, you’re that Hesta, right?”

“Yes,” the mare said vaguely. “I’m ‘that’ Hesta.” She shrugged, “Anyway, like I said, thank you. Please bear in mind that we will be needing to run more tests in future, so make yourself available when we do, okay?”

“Hell, why not?!” Lyra rolled her eyes, “It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to go or do, is it? Stuck here in this bucking place full of monsters and weirdos, it’s a veritable fantasy island!”

“Teufelsinsel.”

Lyra frowned, “Come again?”

“The name of the island,” Hesta reiterated. “It’s-”

“Germane,” Lyra finished for her. “It means ‘Devils Island’, roughly speaking.”

Hesta stood stock still, watching Lyra with eyes full of curiosity, “Hmm, surprising you know that language.”

“Not when you consider my grandfather was from Germania,” Lyra said simply, feeling more than a little aggrieved at the mare’s assumption. “It’s not my first language, but when you’re a musician you have to learn to sing in several languages. I can speak Equestrian, Germanian, Llamalian, and a little Old Equestrian too, if push came to shove.”

“Interesting.”

“Isn’t it though,” Lyra replied a touch sarcastically. “But I’m sure I’ll be putting my talents to good use with applied mop bucket theories and applications.” She nodded towards the door, “By the way, do you have any idea how I can get back to my cabin from here? The bucker with the stupid name, ‘Banter’, ‘Planter’ or whatever it was said-”

“You mean Avanta?”

Lyra let out an exasperated huff, “Yeah, that’s the plonker. He didn’t give me a tourist map so I have no bloody clue how to get back to my room. And I don’t know about you, but I need to get my head down. This nut house is making my brain do somersaults.”

The scientist chuckled, “You have a singular wit, Miss Heartstrings.”

“Don’t I though.” Lyra was about to dimiss the mare and head out when she paused, “You know, nopony bothered to tell me what all that was about earlier? All that poking and prodding? Usually a girl likes to know why she’s being violated before it happens.”

Hesta gave a scandalised nicker, “We would never do anything like-”

“-Yes, yes,” Lyra snorted, interrupting her. With a wave of her hoof she dismissed the comment. “So, since we’re both unicorns here, how about a bit of info on the big doughnut there?”

Hesta stared at her as if she’d just asked why water was wet. “The project?” She blinked as though trying to gather her thoughts, “Didn’t anypony tell you?”

“They said it was a master portal and a pony can use it to go anywhere,” Lyra filled in for her. “I’m guessing this ‘Maester’ character is your boss and you guys are working to get it working. Right?”

“Well,” Hesta replied, “mostly.” She cleared her throat, “The portal is an ancient magical construction of highly complex-” She suddenly paused.

Jumping in, Lyra asked, “What I don’t understand, Hesta me gal, is what yours truly has got do with any of this carry on. After all, I’ve only just got here and it’s not like I’ve...” Her eyes met Hesta’s and she faltered. “Um, hello?” She waved a hoof in front of her face, “What are you staring at?” Slowly she turned, following the scientists gaze, and found herself staring into the uncomfortably alien gaze of the last pony she wanted to see. “Oh, bollocks...”

“I see you two have been introduced. Excellent.” The maester gave one of her classically thin smiles reminiscent of the statuary Lyra had seen adorning stately gardens. She may not have been classically beautiful in terms of build and looks, but by the goddesses she radiated presence unlike any pony Lyra had ever seen. The maester herself however, merely looked past Lyra to the scientist. “I believe the day is about to end,” she said pleasantly. A perfectly trimmed eyebrow lifted just as the horns blew, their sonorous pall echoing out its haunting call, reverberating along the hollow metal corridors. “I wouldn’t want to hold you up, Hesta.”

“Of course, Maester.” The scientist bowed and then hurried to gather her work as the others began to file out. If Lyra hadn’t noticed it before, she certainly did now – Hesta was frightened.

Meanwhile the maester, flanked by two of her hulking zeks, watched Lyra as though she were examining an unusual amoeba under a microscope. “I believe you have caused something of a stir,” she purred, “Miss Heartstrings.”

Lyra swallowed. She tried to keep calm and her gaze focussed on the odd unicorn, however no matter how hard she concentrated her eyes insisted on drifting away to stare at the monstrous beings either side of her. “Um… not intentionally,” she mumbled. “They, the scientists that is, wanted to test me for some reason.”

“That ‘reason’ being your recent arrival through the portal,” the maester affirmed. “I wanted to be sure you were telling the truth, and as it transpired, you were.”

“But Parchment was here before me, wasn’t he?” Lyra asked.

“He was,” the maester smiled. “Yes, indeed he was.” The uncomfortably slow way she spoke was bad enough as it was without the need for the accompanying lilting chuckle which held some decidedly sinister undertones. “However, as I have neither interest nor specific talent for… ‘music’, Miss Heartstrings, I would not presume to question a practitioner of those arts as to their function nor application.” The maester raised an eyebrow, “As I am similarly certain that a proponent of those arts would not presume to question a specialist in magical theory and quantum portal dimensional physics on how she would, shall we say, ‘bang out a tune’?”

Lyra furrowed her brows, trying to make sense of the word soup that was being thrown at her. “So, what you’re saying,” she said, “is… Um… Er...”

The maester rolled her eyes, “You didn’t graduate top of your class, did you, Miss Heartstrings.”

It wasn’t a question, but Lyra knew damned well when she was being insulted. She puffed up her chest, “Hey! I’ll have you know I attended art college and passed my grade one through three in musical theory and practice, thank you very much!” She sniffed, “And let me tell you, that ain’t easy!”

“You?” came the incredulous reply. “You went to college?” The maester looked genuinely shocked, “And just how did you manage that exactly? Certainly not through magic, I think we’ve got that covered. Perhaps it was a scheme to help ‘special’ students with sub-par educational potential into what passes for higher education in Equestria these days?”

“I got in the same way that every pony does who goes to art college, madam,” Lyra huffed loudly. “I flunked all my exams at school and applied.”

The maester shook her head, “Remarkable.” Her mouth curled up in one corner in the manner that made Lyra’s mane twitch, “Truly a prodigy in the making...”

“A what?”

The maester suddenly lifted her voice, “Now then! Miss Heartstrings, I’m certain you have worked quite hard enough for one day. You must be exhausted.” She glanced at one of the zeks, “Take her back to her room.” The creature said nothing, but shifted its eerie gaze to Lyra who balked at the frightening creature’s attention. “I have work to attend to. Don’t let me hold you up.” And with that the maester walked towards the portal, leaving Lyra alone with the hairy zek.

“Well, guess it’s just you and me then, eh big guy?” Lyra tried to keep the trembling from her voice. “Lead the way.” The zek made a low rumbling sound, barely on the edge of hearing, then turned to shuffle away, clearly expecting Lyra to follow. Not having much choice she did exactly that.

Corridor after corridor passed as they shambled along. It wasn’t easy walking at the zeks pace, the thing was far from what she’d call fast. At this rate she’d be starting her next days shift before she got back to her room! She peered at the thing closely, noting the two toned fur, the large hands, the rolling gait it had as though it were on the deck of a ship. Perhaps in some ways they were. The corridors were all scavenged from bit and pieces the humans had brought here – whether by accident or design. The silence was starting to bother her so Lyra decided to try and lighten the mood. “You don’t say much, do you?” she tried hopefully.

Silence.

“So... I believe you guys are called ‘zeks’, right?”

Silence.

“You know, I’ve always liked the strong silent types,” Lyra chuckled. “Got yourself a nice mare somewhere, buddy?” She frowned for a moment, “You are a guy, right?” Now that she’d said that she wasn’t sure. They all looked virtually identical. “Huh, I’ve been all over Equestria and I’ve seen everything from bison to zebra, and I’ve never heard of your people. You from around here, or did you come through the portal?”

Silence.

“Meh,” Lyra shrugged, “Just ignore me, I’m rambling. I’ll just talk to myself and-”

From somewhere up ahead there came a blood curdling scream, immediately followed by an animalistic roar of uncontrolled rage. Lyra had heard it before. Oh goddess, how she’d heard that horrifying sound before! Everything suddenly burst into action around her. Horns and bells began to blare a warning, accompanied by a voice blasting out of a wooden box on the wall:

‘Attention all crew, security alert level one. Chock incursion detected on deck nine. All security teams to deck nine. Repeat, all security teams to deck nine. Emergency defence measures are being implemented.’

“Oh goddess!” Lyra gasped, “What the hell is-” She didn’t get a chance to finish. The zeks leaped forward, its halberd swinging down in a flash of steel just as the chock flew around the corner. The beast all but exploded into a shower of meat, blood and gore as it’s front half was cleaved in twain. Entrails showered Lyra, her mouth open in a silent scream of surprised horror. The chock… the chock was dead. It was... dead… One second it had been alive, and the next it was steaming, bloodied chunks on the floor. She blinked, feeling the burning sensation of iron rich blood in her eyes. It was then she was alone. Utterly alone. The zek had gone, running off along the corridor and leaving her standing there in a blood splattered corridor. Was that it then? Was it over? What if there were more of-

‘Attention all crew, security alert level one. Chock incursion detected on decks eleven and twelve. Full lockdown procedures are being implemented. Message repeats...’

All of a sudden there was a loud hissing sound right above Lyra’s head. She hadn’t noticed it before, but there it was – a door, a large and very heavy metal door, clattering down on equally large cog wheels to slam into place. It came down with such force that the corridor shook, rattling the very teeth in her mouth. Behind her, Lyra could hear shouts and roars, the unmistakable sounds of gunfire, and another door coming down. Coming down right as the chock was coming at her as fast as lightning. As quick as the door was closing the chock was faster, the monster’s claws digging into the metal grating in the floor and propelling it with gut wrenching speed. Teeth flashed, reflecting in the mare’s terrified eyes. Her mind was a blank slate of terror, but… her magic! If she could just-

Something moved beside her, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the black force of death bearing down on her. Magic sparked and died as she was grabbed, her neck and waist seized, pulled, dragged with such force and speed it made her cough out her last breath of air. The young mare fought helplessly, but was plunged inexorably into absolute darkness amidst the tortured staccato howls of tearing metal, beaten and screaming all around her, screeching in frustration and unimaginable rage whilst consciousness passed into a blessed emptiness of thought and time.

Time drifted away, taking with it the unending sea of rusty orange metal and that constant metallic tang of iron which seemed to permeate everything. At least the breeze coming through the window was pleasant, and surprisingly didn’t carry the scent of sea water.

“And just where have you been?”

“Hmm?” Lyra groaned, rolling her stiff shoulders as she smiled over at her friend, “Oh, you know, here and there.” She hung her overcoat and day bag onto the coat rack beside the door.

“Really?” The cream coated mare tossed her coiffed pink and blue mane. “That’s all you’ve got to say, is it? Celestia’s grace, I’ve been worried sick, Lyra.”

“I’m sorry, Bonnie,” Lyra smiled softly. She closed the front door and walked over to the chair where she collapsed in a tired heap. “Oh, that’s better,” she sighed. Lyra caught the expression on her friend’s face. “I’d tell you what’s been going on,” she relented, “but I doubt you’d believe me.”

“You think so, do you?” Bon Bon fixed Lyra with a firm look. The two gazed at each other, each wondering what to say next. Finally Bon Bon broke the stalemate, “I’ll test that hypothesis, Lyra. But first, time for a coffee. You look like you need one.”

“I couldn’t argue you with that,” Lyra replied wearily, “I’m ready for the knackers yard.” It had been a hell of a last day on the dig, and that was saying something. Delay had followed delay, what with suppliers not turning up, volunteers rolling in late, and on top of that the weather had been atrocious too. They’d expected to be a day or two behind schedule of course, maybe even three or four, but that was nothing new in her line of work. However those few days had turned into a week – a week up to her fetlocks in mud and water. Because of that she’d been far later returning home than usual, and to make matters worse Bon Bon had heard nothing from the dig site either. Normally they were able to send telegrams back home to warn friends and relatives of such delays, but as luck would have it the local telegraph office had been damaged in storms and the lines were still being repaired when they’d finally given up the dig as a lost cause. What a complete waste of effort that had been! Still, at least she was getting paid.

“What were you excavating anyway?” Bon Bon called from the kitchen. “Wasn’t it that old Legion fortress down by the Pol River?”

“It was,” Lyra called, pulling up a hoof stool in her magic. “We found bugger all too. Looked like treasure hunters had gone over the place a dozen times before we rolled up. The whole thing was a buck up from start to finish too.”

“I heard the weather was pretty grim over that way.”

“Grim?!” Lyra let out a bark of laughter, “It was unlike anything I’ve ever worked on, and I’ve been on some shitty digs over the years. It never stopped raining from the minute we got there to the minute we left. The mud was up to my waist at times, and it was nearly impossible to get dry. The tents were almost as bad inside as out by the end.”

“Couldn’t they have put up a magical shield to keep the rain out?” Bon Bon asked.

“If we’d had a magical generator, sure,” Lyra replied. “Half the equipment turned up late or didn’t have the right connectors. The generator eventually did turn up though, get this, yesterday morning!”

“Oh, for the goddesses sake, you’re kidding!”

“I wish I was.” Lyra let out a groan, rubbing her hind legs, “If it could go wrong, it did.” She stared down at her legs as Bon Bon walked in with the coffee. “Celestia… my legs feel like they’re on fire.”

There was an intake of breath. “Oh, goddess! Lyra, look at the state of your legs!” Bon Bon put down the tray of drinks and scooched forward, peering at where her friend was scratching. She knocked Lyra’s hoof away in concern, “Good grief, have you see this?”

“I’ve not had much chance,” Lyra muttered uncomfortably. “The showers didn’t work either.”

“Luna’s backside, that’s rain scald you’ve got there. Bloody hell, Lyra, they’re both inflamed right up to your knees!” Bon Bon shook her head worriedly, “Right then, that’s it. Shower. Now.”

“Eh?!” Lyra looked up in alarm, “But I’ve just got home! And I haven’t even had a coffee yet.”

“Never mind the bloody coffee, get your green arse in that shower while I nip out to the pharmacy, they should still be open.” Bon Bon grabbed her raincoat from the rack, “I think we’re out of medicine, Lyra, but have a look in the cupboard while you’re in there. There should be some tea tree ointment.”

“Did we use all the burdock cream?” Lyra grumbled, making her way to the shower.

“I think so, but have a look. There may be some in the second drawer down.”

“Okay, I’ll have a look.”

Lyra staggered wearily into the bathroom and started the shower. In seconds the heated water began to fall, soaking into her already sodden fur. The train ride back from the site hadn’t done much to help her physical state, and she’d been so uncomfortable she’d barely been able to catch a moments sleep on the journey. The hot water was welcome though, even if she was thoroughly sick of being wet. When it hit her hind legs though the pain was all too apparent. Lyra hissed as the red sores started to sting. Soap only did so much, but she’d have to be clean and dry before she could apply any medication. After that she’d have to get her hooves looked at too. They must be in a hell of a state.

Soon enough, bathed in a cloud of scented steam, Lyra stepped out of the shower and onto the thick rug where she towelled and treated herself to a good session with the dryer. It was the first time she’d been dry in days, if not weeks for that matter. Gods, she’d have to look at the weather forecast the next time she put her name down for another stint like that one. The bloody site had been nothing but stones, and… well, more stones really. Any decent artefacts had vanished long, long ago, and it should have been no surprise that was the case when you considered how well known the location of the fort was. The locals had pinched all the cut stone and used it to build their farms, churches, walls, and who knew what else, centuries ago. And who could blame them? The fort had allegedly been a supply depot for the Legion, which explained its size. Many artefacts had come from there on previous digs too, so to find anything now had been one hell of a long shot. And an utter waste of time as it turned out. Lyra began to rummage in the cupboards, moving curry combs, brushes, clippers, eye drops, plasters…

“Aha! Gotcha...” Lyra reached in with her magic and took out the bottle of tea tree oil. “Should still be in date,” she mumbled, and was just closing the drawer when a small box caught her eye. It was sticking out from the corner of the cupboard, just behind the bathroom drawers. How in Equestria had it gotten there! Lyra pulled it out. Maybe it was some of the burdock cream?

The front door catch clicked shut. “Lyra? You finished in the shower yet?” Bon Bon hung up her raincoat. “Bloody weather...” She lifted her muzzle, “Lyra?”

“Bonnie?”

Bon Bon smiled, looking up at- Lyra was standing there, staring at her with an expression of what could only be described as stunned confusion. “Lyra? What is it? What’s...” Her eyes moved to the object floating in Lyra’s magic, “What have you got there?”

“I don’t know, Bonnie,” Lyra said, swallowing. “I’m not… I’m not really sure.” She stared at the thing, “It says it’s a ‘home pregnancy testing kit’.” Her eyes drifted back to her friend. Or more specifically, her slightly larger than normal belly, “Dear Celestia… You’re pregnant.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous!” Bon Bon laughed suddenly, “You know I don’t have a coltfriend, Lyra. You’re imagining things.”

“I see, and this is a figment of my imagination is it?” Lyra held up the pregnancy testing kit. “Goddesses, it all makes sense now: the morning sickness, the swollen stomach, the strange things you were eating from the takeaways.”

“I’ve just been off colour, Lyra, that’s all.” Bon Bon put down the parcel from the pharmacy, “Come and sit down. I’ll put the cream on for you and-”

Lyra’s annoyance flared, “Don’t just dismiss this as nothing, Bon Bon!” Her yellow eyes flashed, “You’re my best friend, and you’re acting as if this is nothing?!”

“It is nothing,” Bon Bon muttered. “That could be anypony’s...”

“It’s in our house! In our bathroom!”

“It could be Roseluck’s,” Bon Bon offered. “You know what that girl’s like with-”

“It’s got your bucking name on it!” Lyra shouted back at her. “And look at the date! It’s the same date you said you were going to the doctors to get looked at! And you told me you had a virus! A bloody virus, Bonnie!”

The cream mare stood up straight, rolled her shoulders and walked over to her work bag, “It’s inconsequential, Lyra. And, I’m sorry to say, none of your business either.”

“None of my business?!” Lyra was aghast. “We’ve been friends since we were foals and-”

“I’m sorry, Lyra.” Bon Bon turned to face her wearing a pair of dark sunglasses and holding up a curious silver device. “Neither of us have time for this right now.”

“What?” Lyra blinked in surprise, her eyes moving from her friend to the-

The world burst in a flash of brilliant red light.

“GAH!” Lyra sat up in fright, blinking in the lamplight. “What the buck…?!” She rubbed her eyes, staring into the gloom around her as the strange dreamed vanished into nothingness. Suddenly she saw a hulking thing standing over her, the clawed hands reaching, the teeth… “Oh, goddesses!” It was the chock. The chock was here, standing over her, holding a cup of… tea?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean ter frighten yer.” The chock, or whatever it was, placed the cup on the night stand beside the bed. “I’ll leave it there for when y’all are ready. It’s made from local herbs the villagers gather for me, so it should be alright for yer t’drink.” The voice was male. “It’s quite refreshin’ really.”

Refreshing? Refreshing was good. Lyra, however, didn’t move. Instead she gathered her magic, readying a shield spell. But what use would that be when she didn’t know where she was? She’d keep this… this thing… distracted by talking to it whilst she looked for a way out. “Thats, er, that’s very good of you,” she managed. “And, um, where are we exactly?”

“Under the citadel,” came the reply.

“Under?” Lyra felt her heart sink.

The shadow nodded, “It’s a quiet place.” The thing moved away to sit down across from her. She could still hardly make out much more than legs, two of them, two arms, and…

“You’re a human,” Lyra said calmly.

“Ah am?” The thing reached up to scratch its head. “Ah suppose I am… kinda. Well, part a’me is.”

Lyra heard the distinct clop of a heavy hoof as her host shifted his weight. “Are you a Faun then?” she asked. “A Satyr maybe?” In truth she never seen either of those creatures, but considering what she’d seen so far since coming to the island she’d be more surprised if there weren’t any about.

The thing made an odd rumbling sound that may or may not have been a laugh. “Ah don’t know,” it began. “Maybe I am one of those things you said.” It – he- let out a very equine snort, “What do you think I am, Miss Pony?”

“Lyra,” Lyra said, her interest piqued. “My name is Lyra, not ‘Miss Pony’.” She felt a little less alarmed now, but was still careful not to antagonise this odd being. She decided to change the topic of conversation, “May I ask your name?”

“May you ask...” The creature sniffed absently. “You may ask...”

Lyra waited for a reply, taking a sip of her tea in the meantime. The flavour was… exceptional! “That’s delicious!” she exclaimed, taking another sip. “I’ve never had anything like it before!”

There was another rumble, “Ah’m pleased you like it.” There was a pause before, “Lyra.”

Lyra felt a rush of energy sizzle through her, the fatigue and tiredness she’d been labouring under vanishing like that strange dream. And yet, was it a dream? It had seemed so real! But now… now she couldn’t really recall any of it. A shame really. She gave herself a shake, “Hey, um, friend, how did I get here? The last thing I remember was being left in the corridor and all this noise, and…” Realisation hit her, “You saved me from that chock!”

A rumble echoed from the creature. “Yup, ah guess I did.” Was there an odd twang to the creature’s accent? It sounded a bit… ‘country’ somehow. “That thar chock nearly had you for dinner.” He made a low chuckling sound, “Now, he’s mah dinner.”

That was when Lyra noticed the bundle of what she’d thought were rags, lying in the corner of the room. Hell, why not? If this thing wanted to eat chocks, then why wouldn’t she be surprised by that after all she’d seen?

The creature reached down and there was the sound of a match being struck. Moments later an oil lamp wick was lit and a yellow-white light began to illuminate more of the room - and Lyra’s ‘host’. The thing sitting back down smiled at her through very equine lips. It’s face, eyes and long snow white mane were as equine as any equestrian she’d ever seen. That, however, was where most of the similarities ended. The creature’s well muscled torso was distinctly human, as were the arms and hands which were lightly furred. The legs were reminiscent of a minotaurs, ending in pony-like hooves. He had a tail though, she noticed, just as brilliantly white as his mane.

“The name’s Thirty Thirty,” the creature said in his leaden tone. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Lyra.”

“Likewise,” Lyra squeaked. Luna’s lugs, what was he?! He was unmistakably half pony and half human, that was damned sure. So was he a… Oh, goddess, was he a centaur?! “I’m sorry to ask,” Lyra managed, trying not to swallow her own tongue, “but, are you a centaur?”

“A centaur?” The creature scratched his chin, “Ah’ve heard the humans say that name, but… you know, ah don’t know. Ah’m Thirty Thirty. One’a the humans named me that when I was a young’un. He laughed a lot. Maybe the name was a joke, but ah don’t mind. Ah like it.”

“Was… Was the human your father?” Lyra asked quietly.

Thirty Thirty paused, frowning in thought. “My father...” He shrugged, “Ah don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. Ah have no father now. He’s gone. They’re all gone.” He got up and moved to open a drawer where he took out a small wooden box of cigars. “All gone now...”

He lit one up.

Lyra sat up on the bed and stretched her legs, noticing the small bandage on one of her forelegs. It didn’t hurt, but then she hadn’t noticed any injuries earlier. She must have done it on the way down here. In any case, Thirty Thirty had done an excellent job. “Thirty?”

“Mmm?”

“What do you mean they’re all gone?” She cleared her throat, “The humans, I mean. Where did they go?”

“Go?” Thirty looked down at the floor, his face unreadable. “They didn’t go nowheres. They’re still here. Those that’re still livin’.”

“But you said-”

“The humans ain’t humans no more,” Thirty said abruptly. “Anythin’ human that was in them is gone.” The yellow flare of flame illuminated his muzzle as he lit his cigar. “They’re zeks now. All of ‘em. All zeks.” He spat on the floor, “That’s what they do here. They turns folk into monsters.”

Lyra had wondered about the fate of the humans after talking to Blue and Celandine, but to hear it here, and from this bizarre creature too, sent a shiver as cold as ice down her spine. “Dear goddess...”

“Goddess?” Thirty Thirty shook his mane, “Ain’t no goddess here. Only god they believe in now was just a regular old pony called Lode Stone.” He took a draw on the cigar, “He’s dead.” “Maester’s still breathin’,” he added. “Yup, she’s still breathin’ alright.”

Lode Stone. Lyra nodded in thought, “He was the first pony through the portal wasn’t he?”

“So they say,” Thirty affirmed. “What I don’t know is why y’all are here.” He pointed to her cutie mark. “You weren’t born on the island. Ah know all the ponies here, zeks too, and you ain’t one a’them.”

“Do you want me to tell you my story?” Lyra asked.

Thirty smiled, his teeth catching the light. “Nope.”

Lyra felt a little deflated, “Oh.”

“But you can tell me if you like,” Thirty motioned to the tea. What may have been a wry smile playing across his lips as he said, “There’s more in the pot.”

And so, well lubricated with the surprisingly delicious tea, Lyra and Thirty sat in the small dimly lit room whilst the green mare regaled the strange creature with her tale. She edited it somewhat, leaving out some of the more pertinent details which may draw the wrong kind of attention to Blue and Celandine. Gods, even now she kept thinking of Blue, and what she’d done. What she should have done... Depression threatened to engulf Lyra in its cold embrace, however movement from her strange host distracted her.

Thirty got up and stretched, flicking his rich mane away from his neck, “Sounds about what ah heard,” he said in his odd voice.

“What, you knew about me already?!” Lyra jumped to her hooves, her temper flaring. “You got me to tell you all that, and you already knew?!”

Thirty watched her with his deep brown eyes. They were smaller than a normal pony’s, a little human almost, but they conveyed just as much emotion. “I hear a lot of things down here,” the tall male said heavily. “Ah can’t go up there, but ah can see ‘em still, and ah can hear ‘em too.” He motioned to a grill on the wall, “Vents. The old speaking tubes, see? Ah knows all the hidin’ places around here.”

“What, you actually live down here. In the dark?” Lyra couldn’t believe what she was hearing, “Are you hiding from them?” There was no answer. “Who are you, Thirty?” The stallion’s wry smile had her back up in a trice and she rounded on him, blocking him from walking away, “Listen here buddy, I’ve been messed around by every damned pony and his bloody dog since I got dumped in this rust pit, so you’d better start explaining things to me before I show you what a real equestrian mare can do when she’s angry!”

“And what can you do when you’re angry, Miss Lyra?”

Her hoof shot out and pushed him in the… was that his hip? He was so tall it was hard to tell. “Trust me,” she said firmly, “you don’t want to find out.”

“Don’t I…” Thirty reached up and stretched out his arms, his hands touching the ceiling. They were so long! “Ah don’t like ponies telling me what I can like an’ what ah don’t like.” His voice dropped an octave as if recalling something unpleasant, “Momma used to be like that, afore she...” He closed his eyes and stopped himself. “Ah don’t like talking about myself, Miss.” Thirty kept his back to Lyra as he lifted his muzzle, his ears twitching, and said, “The chocks have gone now.”

Lyra closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm her frayed nerves. “I’m not sure I want to go back,” she mumbled. Thirty paused, letting her continue. “They treat me like I’m stupid. The Maester, that mare they have in charge there, there’s something about her I don’t like. She seems to think I’m worthless, and that my magic is so useless I’m only fit for washing floors and brushing up the crap other ponies have left behind.” Lyra swallowed, staring at her chipped hooves. “Ha!” she laughed, “Look at these! I used to have nice hooves once, Thirty. I used to be able to play any instrument I put my mind to pretty much. It meant so much to me to see the smiles on ponies faces when I performed. To travel around Equestria and hear the applause of the audience was like nothing else in the world.” She closed her eyes, “Nothing else...” Lyra shivered. “Anyway, the band decided I was too old and unattractive apparently, so I was kicked out in favour of a newer model. Now I’m stuck here on this nightmare island with a bunch of monsters and psychopaths who see me as nothing more than an interesting lab rat who can push a sodding mop and brush.”

“Lab rat,” Thirty repeated.

“Huh?”

“You said ‘Lab rat’.” Thirty let out a low rumble, puffing out a stream of blue smoke as he crushed what was left of his cigar in his enormous hand. “Did they… Did they do things to you?” He looked over his shoulder at her, “Did they hurt you?”

“Hurt me?” Lyra shook her head. “No, they just sat me in a chair and set up all this equipment. They said something about ‘harmonics’, and were interested in the fact I’d recently travelled by portal. Other than that, they-”

“They experimented on you.”

“-didn’t do anything...” Lyra paused, staring at him. “They didn’t hurt me, Thirty,” she emphasised.

“No.” Muscles strained in Thirty’s neck, his clenched fist nearly turning white with how hard he was straining. “No, they don’t hurt you.” His eyes locked onto her, “They wouldn’t hurt you. Unicorn.”

A sudden flash of fear flashed through Lyra’s mind. This creature, this two legged being, lived down here in the darkness, far away from the other ponies up in the citadel. Why? Had he done something to warrant this isolation? He’d known humans, and was almost certainly part human himself. But something had happened, something-

“Gach!” Lyra choked in fright as the hand shot out, grabbing her around the throat and shoving her roughly against the wall. “Thirty… What are you…?” She struggled hopelessly, her forehooves hooking onto the gigantic forearm holding her.

“Unicorn...” Thirty’s eyes burned into her. “UNICORN!”

Lyra could feel her lungs burning as she fought for air, but no matter how hard she struggled the two legged creature was as immovable as a mountain. “Thirty, please,” she gasped, “I don’t know what… what I’ve said, but...” He pressed harder, banging her head against the wall once again. “Please! Thirty, you’re… I can’t breathe…” Lyra’s magic flashed, pulling at his hand, but even this did little against such wild, animalistic rage. Darkness started to push at the edges of Lyra’s vision. Thirty’s eyes were empty, empty except for something that only he could see. Finally Lyra snatched a painful breath, thumping him hard on the head. “You’re hurting me!”

Something gave. Whatever it was, if anything at all, appeared for a brief second in the stallion’s dark brown eyes. Abruptly he released her, swiped his arm aside and upended the table sending the teapot and its content flying across the room. In that moment it upset the lantern, the light illuminating the doorway beyond. Thirty let out a bellow of such unimaginable pain and rage that the room vibrated with its emotional tempest. And Lyra did what, in that moment, she felt she had no choice but to do. She ran. Howls of indescribable torment washed over the speeding unicorn, adding swiftness to her race to escape the madness behind her. Lamps, a mix of electric and paraffin, lit the way in a sporadic mix of yellow auras, describing a path to what she hoped was freedom. Or a freedom of sorts. Not that it mattered; in her mind she could imagine the lumbering beast charging after her, ducking under the arched doorways, grabbing pipes to help propel it along, stride after increasing stride, closing the distance. Another howl, long and piteous rang out. Was it nearer? Further away perhaps. She neither knew nor cared right then. There was only one thing that burned in Lyra’s consciousness now, and that was the large metal opening ahead of her. It was a vent, or something like a vent, which had a cover long since removed and lying beside it. Although not that large, it was big enough to allow a pony through, and she all but launched herself inside, scrabbling along as fast as her hooves could carry her.

The square vent tubing turned to the left, rose, went straight, fell for a while, then rose once more. Lyra was in complete darkness other than the faint glow of her magic. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. There were scrape marks here and there too, the silvery lines showing the passage of somepony, or some thing, that had come this way more than once. There was only one ‘thing’ it could have been too, and that was behind her.

“LYRA!” The voice. That voice! “LYRAAA!” Her name was roaring up from behind her, following her through the venting, resonating, vibrating…

Lyra slipped. Hooves scabbling for purchase on smooth metal, the green mare started to hurtle forward on a decidedly downward trajectory. She tried to grab hold of something with her magic, but get hold of what?! There was nothing to grab a hold of, let alone see, and then… then with a burst of light, a crash of metal and the deafening clatter of something giving way, the green mare exploded into the corridor at the hooves of…

“Parchment?” Lyra choked on the rusty fog surrounding her. “What are you…?” She saw the zek beside him staring down at her with its ice blue eyes. Today just kept getting better and better! She reached up and held her head in resignation, “Oh, gods, what a bloody nightmare. Luna get me out of here!”

“We were looking for you,” came the simple reply from above her.

Lyra leaned back against the wall, noticed the open grate, then jumped aside as the realisation of how near she was to it hit her. Images of a claw like hand shooting out and groping for her, trying to drag her back down into the darkness, flashed in her mind’s eye with alarming clarity. “There’s… There’s something down there!” she sputtered. She looked up at Parchment, “A monster! It said it was a, I don’t know, a...” Her words died in her mouth as the implacable features of the young unicorn gave her the distinct impression he either didn’t care, or didn’t believe a bloody word she was saying.

Parchment gave a single nod of his head, motioning to the zek who readied its weapon, aiming it at the vent. “It’s alright now, Lyra,” he said as if reading it off a cue card. “You’re safe now.”

A clatter from further down the corridor made her heart leap into her thoat. “The chocks!” Lyra said suddenly, looking around in fright. “They chased me, but this thing grabbed me, and-”

“I know,” Parchment said gently, or as gently as he could which by normal standards wasn’t exactly saying much. “The maester wishes to speak to you.”

“Oh, no...”

“It’s nothing bad,” Parchment replied, leading her off along the corridor. “She assured me that you weren’t in any trouble and that she’s been concerned for your safety after you... ‘disappeared’.”

“Disappeared?” Lyra shook her head, trying to make sense of what was going on here. “I was on my way back to my room when one of those bloody chocks attacked me!” she exclaimed. “Your zek mate here ran off and left me there to get torn apart!”

Parchment glanced over his shoulder at her, “You can tell them apart?” he asked, sounding a touch sarcastic.

“Well, no, of course not,” Lyra stumbled. “They all look the same to me, but the principles the same.” She shook her head, “Anyway, look, it doesn’t matter which ‘zek’ it was, the fact is that your boss told the numb headed thing to lead me to my room and instead it took off running.”

“They are taught to defend the citadel in the event of an intrusion,” Parchment replied.

“I live in the bloody citadel!” Lyra retorted, tapping her chest. “What about me, eh? Don’t I matter? And whilst we’re on the subject, you neglected to mention that I was going to become the next incarnation of Missus bucking Mop!”

Parchment gave a shake of his mane, “You were tested by the maester for magical ability, and a skill appropriate role was found for you.”

“You what?!” Lyra dashed in front of him, cutting him off. Her actions immediately had the zek on guard and the beast hefted its weapon, pausing only after a cautionary wave of a hoof from Parchment. “You little shit!” Lyra hissed. “I risked my life coming here to rescue you, and this is the thanks I get? Gods above, I’m stuck in this insane asylum with no way home, cleaning up other ponies’ shit all day, and with only your say so that we’ll ever get out of here? I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you!” A realisation that had been nagging at the back of Lyra’s mind pushed its way to the fore. “Celestia… This is personal, isn’t it, Parchment. This your way of getting back at me for being your boss on the dig and because I didn’t give you the green light to stick your stupid ignorant muzzle into dangerous ancient magical doorways!”

“Your previous role in Equestria has nothing to do with your role here.”

“Doesn’t it?” Lyra snorted, lifting her muzzle. “And I suppose yours does, eh? You stuck up, supercilious little prick. Who the hell do you think you are? You’re just some damned kid who’s fettling the boss to get ahead, so don’t give me all your-”

Parchment’s hoof shot out like lightning, slapping Lyra across the face. His large eyes caught the daylight streaming through one of the windows, gleaming brightly with a surprising amount of emotion. He was, without doubt, absolutely furious. But instead of berating her, all he said was, “We’re here.”

Lyra recognised the door all too well. Once was more than enough to remind her that she never wanted to see either it, or its incumbent, ever again. Numbly she reached up and touched the burning sensation on her cheek. “What the hell did they do to you, Parchment?” Lyra whispered as the young stallion put his hoof on the door. “What did she do to you?”

There was a pause as if the whole world was taking a breath. And then, with almost scripted slowness, Parchment peered at her from out of the corner of one eye, “She taught me to survive.”

Lyra was still staring at him as the door closed behind them, and the maester, ensconced behind her worn desk, no doubt absorbed every single uncomfortable moment of it.

“Thank you, Parchment, you may leave us.”

“As you wish, Maester.” The stallion bowed and backed out, leaving only the maester and Lyra in the room.

“I understand you have had quite the adventure, Miss Heartstrings,” the citadels leader announced in her usual slightly weary manner. Her frighteningly metallic eyes flicked from Lyra then back to the window as if whatever was out there was infinitely more interesting than the mare she’d had escorted to her office. “Would you care to tell me about it?”

“Which part would you like to know about?” Lyra asked. “The part where I was abandoned by your zek and left to be torn apart by a chock, or maybe the part where I discovered you keep monsters in your basement that drag ponies into the depths of this delightful metal palace through any conveniently placed air duct?”

The maester’s eyes locked onto her. “Sarcasm,” she said simply. “A rare thing in ponies these days. In my position few would dare to speak to me in such a manner. You, on the other hoof, do not appear to suffer from such, shall we say, ‘inhibitions’?” She smiled that thin smile of hers, “I don’t like it.” Lyra felt her ear twitch under that unearthly, knowing gaze. “In regards to your zek problem, the matter has been resolved. The one in question has been sent for re-training and another has been assigned to you. It will escort you to work in the morning and back again in the evening.”

“And the thing that grabbed me?” Lyra asked.

“Yes…” The maester nodded to herself, shifting her gaze once again to the window. “That particular matter will have to be resolved. I have left it quite long enough I think.”

“And by ‘resolved’, you mean…?”

“I ‘mean’ the matter will be dealt with, Miss Heartstrings.” The maester’s eyebrows drew down, clearly unappreciative of being questioned. “The situation has been allowed to continue for far too long already, and I will be dealing with it in due course. Does this,” she asked politely, “answer your question?”

“No.” Lyra lifted her head, her mind surprisingly clear after her ordeal. “I have a lot of questions, Maester, and not least of which is when I will be able to go home.”

“Home?” The maester suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, let out a lilting laugh, “Such a question to ask!”

Lyra didn’t feel in the mood for humour. “And why is that?” she asked flatly.

“Why?” The brown mare leaned back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling with a smile playing across her lips. “Why indeed, Miss Heartstrings.” Her mirth was far from infectious, and if anything sounded tinged with regret and maybe even a hint of anger. “Do you know how long my ponies have been working on the master portal trying to do just that? Do you have any idea how many generations of equestrians have worked their entire lives away, hour after hour, day after day, uncomplaining, unquestioning, only to go to their graves for the next generation to pick up where they left off?”

“How could I?” Lyra replied. “I’ve hardly been here five minutes!”

“Exactly!” The maester snapped. “You cannot have even the faintest of ideas as to the amount of effort, skill and talent that our project has soaked up.” “All,” she added weightily, “with the sole goal of getting us away from this accursed place.”

“A place Celestia herself set up as a prison for criminals and dissidents, wasn’t it?” Lyra asked challengingly.

The maesters eyes hardened along with her voice, “A dissident is not a criminal,” she growled.

“True,” Lyra replied placatingly, not taking her gaze away from the maester. “But don’t you think that Celestia, an alicorn that has ruled Equestria for over a thousand years, would have spells and wards up around this island that would prevent anypony from doing precisely what you are attempting?”

“Alicorns are not omnipotent,” the maester said, thumping her hoof on the desk. “They are powerful, granted, but they are not gods.”

“Some believe they are.”

“Some ponies are damned fools!” The maester’s mane twitched noticeably. “I have no time for superstition, folklore, myths, legends, old mare’s ‘wisdom’, or religious mumbo-jumbo pedalled by charlatans and liars, Miss Heartstrings. I permit ponies to believe in whatever nonsense that they wish in the village, however it has no place here in my citadel. Here the only gods are those of hard work and scientific and technological advancement.” She closed her eyes and took a drink, sitting back in her chair as the haze of anger began to fade away. “It is my goal,” the maester explained, “to get us off this island and to a new home. That is all it has ever been, and ever will be.”

“Utilising a mixture of human and equestrian technologies,” Lyra observed.

The maester’s eyebrow raised, “I see you have been paying some attention to what we’re working with here.”

“Some,” Lyra said pleasantly, “in between mopping and sweeping.” She took a breath, “You don’t believe that there’s a fundamental difference between human technology and equestrian magical science that could be a bridge which simply cannot be travelled?”

“No.” The maester gave the slightest shake of her head, “The fundamental difference between human technology and magic is primarily one of power. Magic uses thaumaturgical energies that lie within the ecosphere, one that can be tapped into by creatures attuned to it.”

“Like unicorns.”

“Like unicorns,” the maester agreed. “The humans do not have magic, or at least they are unable to use it on their home world. It is of course possible that they could once, their histories are replete with references to it, however superstition and religious persecution obliterated any chance their race had of its mastery. Now they use a power source they call ‘Electricity’. This power can be generated artificially, and as it resides within all living things in one form or another, even on our own world, then it has been a fairly simple case of rethinking how we view magic in its raw state.” She took a sip of her drink, “A blend of both worlds. A ‘fusion’, so to speak.”

“Incredible,” Lyra breathed. She was genuinely impressed by the work they’d done here, not to mention the incredible amount of dedication the ponies had to freeing themselves from this awful prison. “Maester,” Lyra asked quietly, “may I ask one more thing?”

The brown mare sighed, flicking her mane out of her eyes, “You may, but only one. I have work to do, and this distraction from that has taken longer than I expected.”

Lyra nodded. “Thirty Thirty,” she asked. “He’s a fusion too, isn’t he. Human and Equestrian.”

For a moment Lyra didn’t think the maester would answer. The question, it appeared, was not only unexpected, it was decidedly unwelcome.

“That creature you met,” the maester explained, “is an aberration, Miss Heartstrings, a… mistake. The humans we encountered here have, shall we say, ‘primal urges’, to mate with anything that is either willing or unwilling to co-operate to satiate their baser animal desires. Their home planet is suffering from overcrowding as a result of their uncontrolled mating habits which has only served to dilute their intellectual abilities to the point where the ever expanding population constantly wars with itself for ever dwindling territory. Soon there will be no more room, no more resources, and one day… no more humans.”

“Did that happen here?” Lyra asked. “Did the human population expand?”

“A difficult task with so few human females,” the maester said dismissively. “Most of the humans that arrived were crude, uneducated, lacking in intelligence, and with a penchant towards violence and rape that would have left the few us they hadn’t killed as little more than their slaves.”

“But I haven’t seen any humans in the citadel,” Lyra said honestly. She decided not to mention Blue. Not that it would have mattered now. “Thirty told me that there are none left,” she continued. “And that they’re all-”

“Zeks,” the maester finished for her. “In that, he is correct. There are no humans here on the island, Miss Heartstrings. Here, there is no room for them, nor for anypony that is not willing to help forward the project. That is what matters. That is all that matters.”

Lyra felt a chill run down her spine as Thirty’s words ran through her mind. She hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but now the true horror of it all came “My goddesses. You turned the humans into zeks,” she said trying to get her head around the enormity of what she was hearing. “You turned intelligent beings from another world, beings who were brought here through no fault of their own, into… into those monsters?”

“They were already monsters.” The maester got up from her desk and walked towards Lyra, “Murder. Rape. Enslavement. Do you like the sound of that, Miss Heartstrings? Would you like me to tell you of how many ponies we found with their throats cut, with their foals butchered and put on spits over the fire so the humans could have some meat? Perhaps you would like me to tell you how many of us were raped, over and over and over again, sometimes to the point where the mare would die from internal haemorrhaging. Of course, many took their own lives before the humans could have a chance at violating them, dashing themselves and their newborns on rocks so the humans couldn’t...” She closed her eyes and swallowed, “It is enough to know that now, we can control them. The zeks act in our defence to protect us from the natural predators on the island, putting their predilection towards violence to a more productive use. Any who arrive here subsequently are collected and processed the same way. I assure you the process is quite painless, and the best option for all concerned.”

“Except the humans,” Lyra said, staring down at her hooves. “Surely they can’t all be…” She licked her dry lips. Blue’s face floated in her mind’s eye, smiling happily as he told her of his home. She remembered the genuine warmth and love in his eyes as he held Celandine in his arms. Was this the same kind of creature that the maester was talking about? “No,” she said solemnly shaking her head. “No, they can’t all be evil. Not all of them.”

“No, they aren’t,” the maester said in a surprisingly gentle tone of voice. She moved closer and lifted Lyra’s chin with her hoof, looking into her eyes. “Some are indeed intelligent, Lyra. Very much so,” she explained softly. “There are even those amongst them who are genuinely kind, even loving and gentle... at times. However, all too often it was that typically equine belief in kindness and willingness to see only the good in others that fooled even the most cautious amongst us. I truly wish that is where it had all ended, with our two peoples coming together to live in harmony. But fairy tales and wishful thinking is what brought us to the very brink of ruin when we first encountered them. You see, what the humans are deep down: the cruelty, the selfishness, the base desires of the brute, all rises to the surface sooner or later. It is only a matter of time.” She smiled sadly, showing a display of such genuine equine emotion that Lyra nearly took a step back in surprise. “To let them be,” the maester continued, “is not an option, Lyra. I wish it were otherwise, but that’s the way things are.” She turned away, “The sooner you learn that then the happier you will be with us here in the citadel. Now, leave me, I have answered far more questions today than I have in the last year.”

The maester walked over to the window and leaned on the sill, looking out over her world far below. Lyra didn’t know what to say, except, “Thank you.”

The maester merely waved a hoof as another, more familiar one, carefully took her shoulder. “Lyra, come. I’ll take you back to your room.” It was Parchment. Of course, it was bound to be Parchment. “The chef has prepared a fresh meal for you,” he continued as he lead her out of the room. “By the looks of you, you need it.”

“Do I?” Lyra asked dumbly. She suddenly gave herself a shake, looking up at the youth. “Did you know about this business with the zeks, Parchment?”

Parchment grimaced, “In what regard?”

“In regard to the fact that they were humans,” Lyra replied. “The maester told me that they’re ‘processed’ when they arrive on the island.”

“Then you don’t need me to tell you any more,” Parchment said simply. “That is all we need to know about it.”

“It is?” Lyra looked from Parchment to the zek trailing them. The thing shambled along with that thick shaggy ruff and the odd rolling gait they all had. Any semblance to what they apparently once were was long gone. Lyra shook her head in disbelief. It just didn’t seem real that ponies could do something so… so monstrous to another living creature. And an intelligent one at that. “I can’t say I disagree with her reasons,” Lyra continued, “but surely there had to be another way. I mean, equestrians have gotten along with their neighbours for centuries without resorting to… whatever the hell they did to these poor sods.”

Parchment snorted, glancing at Lyra sideways, “I wouldn’t call wars with the yaks, llamas and griffins, ‘getting along’, Lyra.”

“And how long ago was that?” Lyra bit back. “In any case, we didn’t mutate them into freaks we could control. I mean, look at it, Parchment, it’s like a hairy golem for Celestia’s sake!” Suddenly Lyra ran forward, span round, and blocked the path of the zek. “Hey, you, can you understand me? Can you speak?” The zek came to a thundering halt, slammed butt of its spear down on the steel floor, and stared at her. “Can. You. Speak?” Whether there was any intelligence left behind those tiny ice blue eyes didn’t appear to register anything Lyra said. Or if it did, it did one hell of a good job of ignoring her. “Can you remember who you were? Did you have a name?”

Nothing.

Parchment abruptly moved between them, his face a mixture of anger and frustration, “Celestia’s arse, Lyra, what are trying to do?!”

Lyra frowned in frustration, “I’m trying to see if there’s any human left in him. Her. It. I’m not sure really, it could be-”

“Don’t you have a brain inside that thick head of yours?” Parchment shoved her roughly back before turning to the zek, “You. Return to your station.” The zek rumbled something that sounded more like a moan than actual speech, and stalked obediently away. Parchment, however, wasn’t finished. “Are you insane?” he snapped. “Think about what would happen in the zeks could break their processing! They’re powerful, armed, and would kill us without a seconds hesitation, Lyra. You said the maester had told you what they were like before hoof. Imagine what they’d be like if they gained a realisation of what we’d done to them.”

“What we’d done to them?!” Lyra let out an angry neigh. “The ponies here did this to them, Parchment. You precious maester did this to them. Don’t lump me, or yourself for that matter, into this sick situation. Because that’s what it is, mutating humans into monsters. It’s sick!”

“And yet you know why it had to be done.” Parchment closed his eyes and sighed, “The maester would have done anything, anything at all, to avoid having to do what she did, Lyra. But in reality, as much as you may try to fool yourself into thinking you could have done something different, that somehow you could have sorted out all the conflict and avoided all the bloodshed and horror, you know damned well it was never going to end well.” Lyra was about to speak but Parchment beat her to the punch, “If you’re honest with yourself, if you apply that analytical mind I know you have to the matter, then you’d realise that if the roles had been reversed, you would have done exactly the same.”

“I...” Lyra swallowed. “I don’t know, Parchment.”

“They’re not ponies, Lyra,” the young stallion replied heavily. “They are living beings, true, but there’s no getting away from the fact that humans are extraordinarily dangerous. At least now they’re useful to us, and more importantly, they’re alive.”

“Goddesses, you call that ‘living’?”

Parchment stopped in front of Lyra’s door, pushing it open to reveal the cloth covered tray of steaming food that had been placed on the table. “Considering the alternative, then yes, I do call it living. And who knows, maybe once we’re able to get away from here the maester will be able to reverse the process and send the humans home to their world.”

Lyra had to concede that point. “I hope you’re right, Parchment,” she said walking through the doorway. “I really do.”

“You know, I’ve never met one. A human that is,” Parchment said as he took hold of the door handle. “To me they’re still just a myth. The ships on the beach, the technology - it could have been built by any race on the planet for all I know.” He shrugged, “There are times when putting yourself and your own people comes first. Here, mercy is a luxury that can get you killed. Appeasement leads to your people being raped, enslaved, and murdered.”

It sounded like a quote. “The maester tell you that?” Lyra asked curiously.

Parchment shook his head, “No, I had a better teacher.” He took a book from his pouch and tossed it onto the bed. “Maybe you should read it some time.” And with that he left, closing the door behind him.

“He’s getting far too cocky for his own good,” Lyra muttered to herself, taking a long sniff of the food beneath the cloth. It smelled delicious! Not to mention the fact she was absolutely ravenous. Taking the plate of steaming vegetables, side salad, and some sort of fried crispy things that she could easily have scoffed a whole bowlful of, she flopped onto the bed and slid the book over to herself. The title read:

Histories of the Three Tribes.

Myths, Legends, and First Hoof Accounts from the Pre-Celestian Age.

By L. Heartstrings.

“Like I said,” Lyra huffed to herself, crunching down a sautéed carrot, “too cocky by far.”

Chapter Eight - A visitor comes calling

Each new day passed very much like the last in the citadel. In the morning the horns sounded to wake up the citadel’s residents, precluding the need for any form of alarm clock. Breakfast would be taken to the various living areas by an invisible army of workers, and shortly afterwards the unicorns who lived in that rust covered grave of alien ships set off to their variously assigned work stations. Lunch was delivered to these very same stations at midday on the dot, and just like the breakfasts, appeared like magic. The evenings worked in much the same way, however the meals were delivered to the workers rooms in time for the end of that days work period. It was all very clinical, precise, and above all, efficient.

Rinse and repeat.

Lyra was heartily sick of it all. As a singer and an archaeologist she was about as far from what you could call a ‘Creature of habit’ as you could ever wish to be. She suspected the ‘powers that be’ in the citadel knew that too. She was awoken by a zek every morning, long before the first horns blew. Breakfast would be there on a trolley outside her room which she would eat after washing, trot down to the empty laboratory, and spend the morning cleaning. Afterwards she joined other unicorns to clean the corridors, rooms, and whatever else needed doing. Latrine duty, she had decided, was most definitely the worst of an already dreadful assemblage of ‘duties’ she’d been assigned. At the end of the day Lyra was back in the laboratory to clean up before being collected by, once again, another of the resident monsters known as ‘Zeks’. She usually had a few hours before bed to read or whatever else she fancied, and then it was up again the following morning for more of the same. There were no days off. No holidays. No socialising with the others, and definitely no music. The cleaning staff she’d found did somehow find time to spend together, although only Celestia knew how. To them however, if they so much as saw Lyra coming they’d act as if they had something far more pressing to do than engage a newcomer in something as elaborate as, say, ‘conversation’. A social creature herself, this part of life in the citadel wore on Lyra the most. The appearance of Parchment was a rarity these days too. Sometimes he’d see her in passing and exchange a few pleasantries, but that was all. What truly frightened her though was that she was beginning to accept all of this as ‘the new normal’, as Parchment had said to her. Ha! As if this living nightmare could even remotely be considered ‘normal’ in any sane ponies mind! Well, to hell with the lot of them. You’d think she had some sort of communicable disease the way she was being treated.

It was around a week after she’d arrived on the island that she came across two ponies, two she recognised as belonging to the cleaning teams. They were standing in the corridor having a hushed conversation. So used as she was to being ignored, she was about to walk right past them when a name they used gave her pause.

“Thirty Thirty.”

Lyra nipped into a shadowed alcove in the corridor and pretended to be examining her hoof.

“What, he’s still alive?” one of them asked.

“Don’t know,” replied the other, “but one of the seekers told me he’d managed to kill one of the zeks before he disappeared out the sewers into the jungle.”

“Lode preserve us! The Maester will want heads to roll for that!”

“Huh! So long as it’s not mine I don’t give a shit. Besides, the zeks are supposed to be security around here aren’t they? If anypony’s going to get their brain box lopped off for that balls up it should be one of those freaks. Anyway, how come they didn’t know that thing was under our hooves all these years, living like a rat in the sewers?”

“I dunno. I can’t help but feel sorry for the poor sod. He deserved better than that.”

“Oh, come on! That thing was a freak show on two legs! It should never have been allowed to live in the first place. Humans shagging ponies was never going to end well, and they damned well knew it too. Anyway, you heard the stories about it back then. They can’t all be gossip and tittle tattle.”

“Gossip or not, the last thing I’m going to do is listen to stupid fantasy stories about ‘monsters in the sewers’. If anypony asks I’m just going to deny any knowledge of the whole bucked up situation, and I would suggest you do the same.”

“You don’t need to tell me that. I don’t fancy being the citadels first four legged zek!”

“Lode forbid!”

The two laughed like naughty school foals hiding a secret from their teacher as they walked away. Once they’d passed, Lyra let out the breath she’d been holding in. So… She’d been right, the maester had tried to have Thirty Thirty killed. Lyra shook her head in dismay. She wasn’t sure what to make of that. Truth be told she hadn’t really thought all that much about the incident in the corridor, preferring instead to concentrate on her work, keeping herself to herself, and trying to pretend that this entire nightmarish situation was, one day, somehow, going to resolve itself. She wanted to go home. Oh gods, how she wanted to go home! But staying here sweeping the floors was doing very little to achieve that goal. I truth, every day that went by made the possibility of ever seeing Ponyville again seem more and more unlikely. The scientists had checked her over again a few times since that first day, but that had come to an abrupt halt a few days ago after whatever it was she’d had that had got them interested in her initially had… what was the word they’d used… ‘dissipated’? Yes, that was it, ‘dissipated’. Ha! The only attention she’d received since she’d been dumped here had been poking and prodding, and now even that had gone! Dissipated? Her whole bloody life had dissipated!

“Damn it all...” Lyra stared down at the brush. Goddesses, she couldn’t even recall picking it up! Her daily routine was now so ingrained in her that muscle memory had taken over from her brain, leaving the small blob of grey matter floating there in a literal world of its own. Maybe it was just as well. If she thought too much about how awful her life had become she’d doubtless go completely round the twist. But still… was this it for her now? Was there nothing else for her other than to clean and clean and clean and-

“Excuse me, Miss Heartstrings, wasn’t it?”

“Hmm?” Lyra was so used to ponies talking around her, that to actually have one address her directly was something of a novelty. She looked up.

“Or would you prefer I refer to you as Generalissimo Pancake Batter?”

The familiar peach coated mare in the lab coat was looking at her with those pretty blue eyes of hers. “What is it?” Lyra asked wearily, “Need something brushed up? Or have you decided to run more tests on me?”

“Oh no, nothing like that,” the mare said pleasantly. “I was wondering if you’d like a cup of tea.”

Tea? Oh, hell yes! Lyra’s eyes lit up.

“First though, I was wondering if you’d care to help me move one of the converter units,” the peach mare stated. “Everyponies knocked off for the day, but I really need to get these last readings sorted out before morning. You know how Isanderia gets!”

Not really, Lyra thought bitterly. But he’s a prick of the highest bloody order, that’s for damned sure. “Oh, yes!” she smiled. Gods, what a bitch! Still, at least there was a cuppa at the end of it.

“It’s over here,” Hesta said chirpily.

The two walked across to the opposite side of the domed room, passing the large circular portal. “Any progress?” Lyra asked, trying her hoof at small talk.

Hesta nodded enthusiastically, “Actually, yes. And in no small thanks to you, would you believe.”

“I’d hoped that all that poking was for more than just idle curiosity,” Lyra replied cheekily.

If Hesta picked up on Lyra’s sarcastic tone she didn’t let on. “Oh, it was far more than that,” she explained. “The thaumaturgical resonance in your personal magic aura had been...” She paused, looking at Lyra as a mother would look down at an infant. “I’m sorry, this must be going right over your head.”

“Not quite,” Lyra replied, biting back a more acerbic remark.

“Really?” Hesta’s eyebrows went up in exaggerated surprise.

Lyra nodded, “Try me.”

“I will,” Hesta said with a smile. “I must say, I don’t have much time nor call to converse with the menials as a rule. But...” She cleared her throat. “Very well.” The mare came to halt, turning to face the green mare, “When a biological passes through a portal, their personal magical aura, or P.M.A as we refer to it, creates a resonance with the magic of the portal itself.”

“It harmonises,” Lyra said, ignoring the ‘menial’ reference.

Hesta smiled broadly, “Exactly! You see, the magic wavelengths and frequencies we use in tuning the master portal have been mostly guesswork up until now.”

“I presume you mean, until I arrived?” Lyra asked.

“And your friend of course. ‘Parchment’ I believe?” Hesta nodded to herself, “The two of you exhibited a great deal of residual resonance which we were able to record and refine, thereby allowing us to isolate the specific frequency wave.”

“O-kay, and what use is that to the project?”

“Use?” Hesta frowned. “A good question… a good question...” She raised an eyebrow, “How do I put this… You see, each portal is attuned to a particular thaumaturgical wavelength, yes?”

Lyra raised an eyebrow, “Like a radio wave?”

“Similar,” Hesta replied. “I see you’ve heard of them.”

“Heard of them?” Lyra chuckled, “I’ve been on the radio loads of times.” At Hesta’s confused expression she explained, “We have radios in Equestria nowadays. They’re magically operated of course, rather than electrically like the ones the humans have.”

“When you say, ‘you’ve been on them’,” Hesta asked. “What do you mean?”

“Well, that I’ve had my music played over the radio,” Lyra said, a little surprised by Hesta’s question. “You know, for entertainment?”

“No… Not particularly.” Hesta gave her mane a shake, “The humans mentioned something about that.” She waved it away with a perfectly manicured hoof. Goddesses, Lyra wondered, how in Luna’s name did a mare get a hooficure out here?! “Anyway,” Hesta continued, “The single destination portals, or S.D.P’s, use a mono wavelength that is unique to that route, thus allowing users to travel from either point to the corresponding point at the other end. You understand?”

Lyra nodded thoughtfully, “Yes, but now that the portal at the equestrian end has been destroyed, what use would the information you gathered from me be in regards to the master portal? You can only use a complete portal, right?”

“Ah, well that’s not entirely true,” Hesta beamed, happy that Lyra was paying attention. “A portal that has been damaged usually shuts down completely for safety reasons. Some, however, do not. The very old ones can become unstable, bypassing the safety designs that prevent travel. In those cases the traveller can be ejected, potentially you understand, at any point along the old route. Or perhaps…” she shrugged, “not at all.”

“Not at all?” Lyra felt a shiver run through her. “You mean they die in there?”

“Presumably,” Hesta replied. “We don’t know precisely, as a lot of what we know is taken from our translations of ancient equestrian in the old manuals and texts from the earliest days on the island. That is why having a recent traveller to the island is so important. Now we can see, first hoof, what portal travel actual does to a ponies PMA.”

“Hang on a second, did you say you have manuals?!” Lyra couldn’t believe it. “I thought everypony on the island was descended from prisoners?” Parchment had been quite specific on that point. “I doubt the authorities would have sent you instruction booklets on how to break out of your prison!”

“Prisoners?” Hesta blinked in surprise, “Who in Lode’s name told you that rot?!” She shook her head vigorously, “No, no, no. We’re all descendants of the portal engineers, the greatest pioneers of the golden age that gave us the grand network ponies enjoy to this very day!”

“Um...” For some reason Lyra suddenly felt uneasy. It wasn’t just the fact that Parchment had told her the ponies on the island were prisoners, or rather the descendants of prisoners sent here centuries ago, nor was it that Hesta appeared to believe the portal network was still in daily use. No, it something else, something she couldn’t quite put her hoof on. She cleared her throat and asked, “Who are the villagers, Hesta? They’re descendants of the engineers too, aren’t they?”

To say Lyra had trodden on the proverbial land mine was an understatement. Hesta’s previously light hearted mood vanished like morning mist, leaving the irritated mare she’d first met when she’d been assigned to cleaning the laboratory.

“The villagers are aberrations,” came the cold reply. “Earth ponies are a subspecies of equine, fit for doing what they do best – toiling in the fields and pulling a plough. The pegasi are little better, however at least they have been put to some practical use which benefits the citadel.”

“But they’re still ponies!” Lyra tried to point out. “They’re intelligent beings, Hesta, the same as-”

“They are not the same as us!” Hesta’s blue eyes flashed angrily. “You cannot seriously believe that a dumb beast of burden like an… an ‘earth pony’ can operate complex machinery, let alone use magical apparatus? As for expecting one to even begin to understand the higher forms of thaumaturgical science is nothing short of laughable!”

Lyra felt her mane twitch. “We’re all children of the goddesses,” she said through gritted teeth.

“What nonsense!” Hesta let out a throaty chuckle. “Folksy nonsense from the pre-enlightenment age! I would have thought you of all ponies would have understood the difference between the races, Miss Heartstrings.”

“And why’s that exactly?” Lyra asked.

“Because,” Hesta replied, “a civilisation that has progressed to the point of having radio communications, portal technology, flying machines, cinema, and so on and so forth, cannot believe in fantasy stories about alicorns and, good grief, ‘gods’ of all things! It’s just counterintuitive.”

“You’ve obviously been talking to Parchment,” Lyra said defensively. “So you must know that Celestia and Luna are real.”

“Oh they’re ‘real’, I’m sure,” Hesta snorted. “Just as you and I are real. But sticking a horn on a pegasus doesn’t make it a unicorn.”

“No, it makes it an alicorn,” Lyra snorted back. “They have magic, Hesta, and they can fly. For goodness sake, I’ve seen with my own two eyes!”

“I don’t doubt that you have,” Hesta replied. “But does that make them gods?” She began to walk away, “Have you witnessed them ascending to the heavens surrounded by the heavenly host, Lyra? Are they truly omnipotent and omnipresent? Do they grant your wishes and perform miracles?” At Lyra’s lost expression she sniffed imperiously, “Oh, you poor creature. I had hoped that such superstitious nonsense would have died out in Equestria long before now. Sadly, I can see my hopes were woefully misplaced.”

Lyra felt outmanoeuvred. By Luna this mare was aggravating! Not to mention the way she’d suddenly taken to calling her by her first name in a nerve wrenchingly condescending tone that made Lyra want to strangle the obsequious creature. She took a breath and rallied the best she could, trying in some small way to maintain a modicum of self respect. “You can say what you like about the princesses,” she retorted, “but since I’ve been here I’ve heard plenty of ponies referring to this ‘Lode’ character as if he was a god. What makes him any more a deity than two alicorns we can actually see, hear, and interact with?”

“Oh my, you’re talking about that old nonsense?” Hesta began to laugh. And goddesses, what a laugh she had too! It was like a sack of seals being kicked by a mule. “Do you know who Lode was?” she asked. “He was a volunteer, Miss Heartstrings, a drunkard who wagered his entire life savings that he would be the first equine to travel through a portal. And, I might add, the first to return.”

“And I take it he didn’t?” Lyra asked.

“Of course not!” Hesta snorted. “At that time, with debt hanging around his neck and criminal charges for some undisclosed offence waiting for him back in Equestria, he opted to stay on the island. Later on more volunteers, then the engineers, came through to start work on the master portal.”

“So how come none of them went back to Equestria?” Lyra probed questioningly.

“How do you know they didn’t?” Hesta lifted an eyebrow, “I don’t know everything about the earliest days, but I know enough to be able to distinguish fact from fantasy.”

“For example that Lode was not some god-like pony for the masses to worship?”

“Children do so like their toys,” Hesta grinned. “If they want to believe in something like that, why not let them? So long as their primitive beliefs remain benign then the maester will tolerate it. Should it someday become a problem… well, then the zeks can deal with it.”

Lyra blinked at that, “A bit extreme don’t you think?”

“I ‘think’ that we’ve talked quite long enough for one day,” Hesta replied simply. She lifted a hoof, indicating the large cabinet that needed moving. “Use your telekinesis on that side and I’ll take this. We can slide it over a few feet and that way I can make room for my new workbench.”

Well, we couldn’t want to hold that up now would we! Lyra thought bitterly.

The two took hold of the cabinet and, with no small amount of effort, the two mares lifted the weighty thing and floated it sideways until it was standing next to another equally inexplicable piece of ‘technology’. Lyra watched the other mare out of the corner of her eye as they worked. She’d thought Hesta was one of the snooty types when she’d first met her, and after today she was pleased to say that she’d changed her mind. No, the scientist wasn’t snooty… she was a bitch. More specifically she was a stuck up, bigoted, bitch. Hell, Bonnie was an earth pony for Celestia’s sake! She was also the brains of their particular duo, and not one single drop of magic in sight either. What had Hesta called them again? A ‘Subspecies’? No doubt her childhood friend would have a few choice things to say about that little remark! Calling her a ‘bitch’ wouldn’t have even come close.

Lyra stood back and dusted herself off. Moving the cabinet had revealed a surprising amount of dirt, scraps of paper, and various oddments that had accumulated over who knew how long. Hesta, gods bless her, had noticed it too. She glanced at Lyra. The following words were all too predictable…

“Can you get that cleaned up?” Hesta asked almost politely. “And once you’ve done that, you can move my new desk over to where it was. It’s over there in the stair well. I don’t think you’ll need my help now, you seem quite capable of lifting things.” It was the way she said ‘lifting things’ that made Lyra’s eye twitch. On the subject of which, this stuck up creature was asking for a black one! Unfortunately giving in to such a doubtlessly pleasurable action would lead to unfortunate repercussions that probably involved the liberal application of zeks. As much as it would have been a well deserve walloping… Lyra groaned inwardly… What was the use? There was a pecking order here, and she knew exactly where she was on that metaphorical list.

“I’ll get on with it now,” she said wearily.

“Excellent!” Hesta chirped. “Now, I really must be going. I’m sure you won’t mind going past your time a little, Lyra. We do appreciate the work you do here, you know.”

“Always a pleasure,” Lyra replied with as sincere a smile as she could muster. “See you tomorrow.”

Hesta waved a hoof and left, leaving the green unicorn to snatch up her brush. What followed was a string of expletives that would have had even the most hardened dockyard worker blushing. Bloody hell, were they all like this here? They treated her like a menial labourer, putting her in mind of a very particular song…

“Day is never finished, maester got me workin’, someday maester set me free...”

Lyra chuckled to herself, tidying up the dust and hair covered bits of detritus. It was a fact of life that ponies shed hairs, but dear goddesses, there was enough here to knit a sweater! She bent down to pull at some fragments that were stuck underneath. One in particular was especially stubborn, “Come on you-!” Suddenly a metal panel gave way on the cabinet and Lyra flew backwards, painfully thumping her head off the wall making her see stars. Everything, as always it seemed to the unfortunate mare, snowballed at once. The metal panel clattered onto the floor with an ear splitting racket that echoed around the room like a bell. The thing she’d similarly clattered her noggin off gave way too, falling aside and pitching her backwards into a dark void of wires and pipework. Lyra shrieked in fright, scrabbled for purchase, and let out a bloody curdling wail as the floor beneath fell away into absolute, and complete, darkness.

Somewhere in the darkness a shadowy form moved, rising from the shapeless mound of ancient debris. Slowly, inexorably, it rose as though from the most ancient depths of forgotten history where only nightmares reside. The thing breathed out a huff of air, blowing the dust of countless ages out into the stale air.

“Oh, bugger me sideways…”

This was becoming a habit. How many times was she going to fall into or through things in this damnable land? Cursing, Lyra rose to her hooves as best she could, shaking herself free of the rusted things that had fallen down here with her. Speaking of which, where the hell was she? She focussed her mind on her magic, letting it form into the glowing golden hand she used for playing her instruments. It was a silly thing really, mostly based on drawings she’d found in Hidden Path’s book. That, and their ape cousins she’d seen whilst she’d been travelling. Actually, were they cousins? She wasn’t so sure now, but the resemblance was still there. Now that the magical appendage was floating before her it looked more like… Blue’s hand. Lyra sighed and lifted herself from the pile of debris, taking in where she was. At first glance it looked frighteningly like the place that creature, Thirty Thirty, had kept her. A little wave of the hand revealed the truth: this was no monsters den, it was a room, a cabin really, not unlike the one she occupied herself. It clearly hadn’t been occupied for a long time, and the door into the room seemed to be blocked with debris from the other side. She flicked the light switch on the wall. Nothing. It wasn’t all that surprising considering the layer of dust in the place, it clearly hadn’t been used in a very, very long time. The bedding was missing too, the bedframe a little rusty by the looks of it, and the furniture was more functional than anything. A calendar hung on wall, clearly denoting the passage of time from the human realm. A photograph of a naked human female adorned it, draped over some sort of vehicle she couldn’t quite make out. A typically male item, it was similar to any number of calendars Lyra had seen hanging up in factories, locker rooms, and other places where males tended to congregate. To Lyra’s analytical mind it was absolutely fascinating to see just how similar the two races were to one another. Testosterone was universal apparently!

Lyra looked closer at the pictures. She’d seen depictions of human females before, notably in the magazine in the mess room on the ship and the pamphlet in her room, but they had all been fully clothed. This one, and the others from previous months, were far from it. Breasts featured prominently too, the females all but thrusting them towards the viewer. The machines they were draped over were similar to bicycles, but with some kind of... motor? There were pipes too, all of it interconnecting. It reminded her of some of the humans machinery she’d seen in the engine room of the ship, but much more refined. And polished! Good grief, they must had really liked their two wheeled machines! That said there was a connection between the females and these machines that Lyra couldn’t quite fathom. One month equalled one naked female and one machine. Turn the page, and there was another female with another of the two wheeled machines. The females were all slightly different too, with different skin colours, hair colour, and of differing height. The machines too were of different colours, but all on a similar theme of two wheels. Was this some kind of sexual ritual? Perhaps the human females presented their desired partner with one of these two wheeled contraptions as an invitation to mate? Strange, but it seemed plausible. Of course it could simply be there for no more than titillation. But why the machines?

“Weird...” Lyra muttered.

The brief examination of the room uncovered the hole she’d fallen through had enough cabling and pipework hanging down for her to grab hold of in her magic and haul herself out. After this she was going to grab a shower and call it a day. Hesta could stuff her bloody ‘new desk’ where the sun didn’t shine! Leaving dangerous places like this half covered just showed you how cack-hoofed some of the… “Hello, what’s this?” Something had caught her eye. She’d nearly missed it, but there, propped up in the corner, was the unmistakable shape of a guitar. An image of Blue flashed into her mind. “You’re coming with me, matey boy.” And thus, with the application of a little magic and propping the old bed against the wall to act as a makeshift ladder, both mare and guitar made their way up into the familiar light of the domed laboratory.

“Best tidy up first,” Lyra muttered to herself, and duly set about putting the panel back just as a certain chocolate brown stallion appeared right behind her.

“Lyra?”

“GODS BUCK ME SIDEWAYS!” Lyra span round, dropping the guitar and fell backwards against the newly re-installed panel. “Bloody hell fire, you stupid bucker, you scared the living shit out of me!” She closed her eyes and lifted her muzzle, gulping down air. “Parchment, you… Don’t do that to me! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“No?” Parchment looked at her curiously. So far as Lyra was concerned he was either being ironic, and idiot, or just deliberately obtuse. Knowing him it was the latter.

“What do you want?” Lyra asked. “Can’t you see I’m working here?”

“I was passing by when I heard a crash and a scream,” Parchment replied. “I was looking to see where it came from and found you still here when you were supposed to have knocked off work.” He raised an eyebrow, “The scream sounded like it came from you.”

“Did it now?” Lyra brushed the cobwebs off her coat and blew the hair out of her face. “Well, Mister Detective, as you can see I’m perfectly fine, no thanks to the bullshit design of this place. She jerked her hoof over her shoulder, “A panel gave way and I fell in. It’s fixed now, but nothing a touch of welding couldn’t fix properly.”

“I’ll have a word with the repair team.”

“Good, I’d appreciate it,” Lyra huffed. “I prefer my working days to remain plummet free, thank you so much.” She followed his gaze, “What?”

“That’s a guitar,” Parchment said with a frown.

“So?”

“Musical instruments are prohibited items,” Parchment said as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “It will have to be destroyed.”

“It will what?” Lyra’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re kidding me, right? That’s nuts!”

“That’s the rules, Lyra.”

“Yeah? Well buck the rules, Parchment.” She turned her flank to him, showing him her cutie mark. “You see this? This is a musical instrument, and I, as much as I used to dig in the ground for a living, am a musician.” She turned back to him, meeting his gaze. “I need this, Parchment. I can’t remember the last time I heard or played music, and it is not healthy, do you hear me?” She took a breath, “This place is suffocating me! I feel like I’m dying here, wasting away day after rotten sodding day. The least I can have is a bit of bucking music to-”

“Alright, alright,” Parchment conceded, waving a hoof. “Just, keep it hidden and use you magic to put up a sound nullification shield when you play that thing, okay?” He gave his mane a shake, “So far as I’m concerned I didn’t see it or hear it, understand?”

“Verstanden, Herr Parchment!” Lyra snapped off a sarcastic salute.

Parchment just rolled his eyes, “What’s that over there?” He nodded towards a small leather bound book lying on the floor. It was covered in dust close to the cabinet, and by the looks of it was the thing Lyra had been pulling on which started this whole mess. “That?” she said innocently, “Oh, that’s a book I brought down from my cabin to read during my break. I must have dropped it when I fell through that dodgy panel.” She shrugged, leading Parchment to shake his head.

“I wouldn’t leave it lying around here,” Parchment said in reply. “They’ll be angry with you if you leave a mess.”

“Really? I never would have guessed!” At the stallion’s hurt expression Lyra relented. “I’m sorry,” she said apologetically. “It’s been a long day, and I still haven’t finished.”

“You haven’t finished yet?” Parchment blinked in surprise. “You should have-”

“I know,” Lyra interrupted, “but first I had to help Hesta move the cabinet, then there was the whole falling through a hole thing, and I’m supposed to move that bloody desk over here now.”

“The desk over there?” Parchment looked towards the stairwell were Lyra had motioned. “I’ll sort that out. You tidy up here, and stow that guitar somewhere in the meantime.”

“I’m on it!” Lyra’s spirits picked up at that offer of help, and she quickly collected the guitar, hiding it at the back of the cleaning cupboard. When she had time she’d try and smuggle it back to her room. There were plenty of cloths and towels around, so she could stash it in one of the laundry bags and cover it up. If anypony asked she could tell them she was on her way to the laundry to do the washing. Tomorrow would be ideal!

“All done.”

“Eh?!” Lyra looked up in amazement. Sure enough, the desk was exactly where Hesta had asked for it to go. “Bugger me, that was quick.”

“No flies on me,” Parchment said in his usual emotionless tone. “Come on, I’ll walk you back.”

“Um, aren’t I supposed to have a zek escort?” Lyra asked, looking around for one of the dull beasts.

Parchment shook his head, “Not at the moment. They’re still out looking for that monster you mentioned.”

“Monster?” Lyra’s head shot up as she realised what he was saying. “You mean Thirty Thirty?”

“I believe that’s what it’s called, yes.”

“Oh...” An odd sense of guilt flushed over Lyra, making her ears burn. “You know, Parchment, I’m… I’m not entirely sure he is a, you know, a monster?”

The brown stallion gave her a look which suggested she might be talking right out of her behind. “It did grab you from a corridor and kept you in its lair until you escaped, didn’t it?” he asked. “Or did I misunderstand something you said?”

Lyra scratched at her mane, looking away as she fought to find the right words, “Well, you see, it wasn’t exactly like that. I mean, not in so many words…” She let out a long sigh, staring forlornly at the ground. “What I mean to say is, well, it’s true that the chock attacked me after the zek buggered off, but the thing is that… Well, if Thirty hadn’t grabbed me in the first place, I’d be...” She swallowed, “I’d be dead.”

“There was blood everywhere, Lyra,” Parchment pointed out, apparently ignoring Lyra’s awkwardness.

“I know!” Lyra said, “But it was from the chock that Thirty killed. He said he was going to eat it later. The chock, that is.”

“As opposed to you, you mean?”

“Yes!” Lyra nodded vigorously. “Anyway, after he gave me a cup of tea he kinda went nuts, and I mean seriously nuts! That’s when I bugged out as fast as I could.”

“It gave you a cup of tea.”

“Yeah I know! Crazy, right?” Lyra hesitated. “Anyway, it came charging after me like I told you, screaming my name like some deranged psycho, and… well, you know the rest.” She shivered, “It was like the phantom of the opera, you know, the one where the freaky loon has an obsession with-”

“It’s a play, Lyra,” Parchment cut in. “It isn’t real.”

“Well, duh! I know that, smart arse.” Lyra lifted her muzzle and huffed. Cheeky sod! Of course she knew it was a play! “Anyway, I… Oh, I don’t know, Parchment. Thirty didn’t seem to want to hurt me is what I’m saying.”

“He strangled you,” Parchment noted. “I saw the marks on your neck, Lyra.”

“He only did that after I said ‘unicorn’,” Lyra countered.

“Unicorn?” Parchment looked amazed. “You said ‘unicorn’ and he tried to throttle you? Good goddesses, Lyra, are you actually trying to make excuses for a monster that strangles ponies when they utter his Celestia damned trigger word?! That’s a pretty fine margin for error when you’re living in a structure full of unicorns!”

“I know, I know, it’s just...” Lyra shook her head; lost, once again, for the right words. “Oh, I don’t know, I just find the whole thing so crazy. Hell, maybe I’m going crazy. This place effects you, Parchment. Look at you for example, you’re all stiff and formal all the time, and I feel as if all my creativity, everything that makes me what I am, is slowly draining away like water down a plughole.” She closed her eyes and sniffed, “You don’t think it’s that portal, do you? You don’t… you don’t think it’s sucking all of our willpower away and turning us into mindless drones with the maester as the queen at the centre of it all?”

A terrible silence fell, all except for the steady clopping of their hooves. “You’re overthinking things.” Parchment’s neck quivered, “Lyra, listen, it doesn’t matter who or what that Thirty creature is or was. He may have saved you from the chock, I accept that, but he still hurt you. If you hadn’t gotten away when you did, you may have still been down there now. If that thing eats chocks then it doesn’t take a huge leap of logic to presume that it wouldn’t hesitate at eating ponies.” He gave her a hard look, “A pony like you.” They stopped outside Lyra’s door, “It’s over now anyway. The zeks will hunt it down and it will be dealt with, and that will be an end to the matter.”

“’Dealt with’,” Lyra repeated. “I heard somepony else use that term, Parchment.” She leaned forward and, much to the young stallion’s surprise, gave him a nuzzle. “Be careful around the others here. We’re the only two from Equestria on this island, and I don’t want to lose you.”

Whatever was going on inside Parchments head gave him pause. He took a step back, glanced around himself, and then reached forward and gave Lyra a hug. “Take care of yourself too,” he breathed. “Just bear in mind that things here are not always what they appear.”

“They’re not?”

“No, I-” Parchment froze as a voice called from the end of the corridor.

“Parchment? Is that you?” The voice sounded irritated. “The maester has been calling for you. Hurry now, you don’t want to keep her waiting any longer than she has already.”

“I have to go,” Parchment whispered. “Please, Lyra, keep your head down and don’t cause waves!” He backed out and raised his voice, “Coming.” Turning back to her, he said, “Good night, Miss Heartstrings. Please be sure to let the work assigner know when you will be working late in future.”

“I will,” Lyra said quickly. “Thank you for letting me know.”

Parchment nodded, and with that, left to follow the other stallion. Lyra didn’t watch him go. Instead she closed the door, flopped to the floor, and leaned back against it. Her heart was beating like a drum, and a very fast drum at that. A flood of disjointed events played through her mind one after the other, all of them mashing together and then swirling away like fog as she tried to wrestle some sense out of the madness. Above it all a herd of chocolate brown stallions flowed like rain over the landscape of insanity – Things are not all they appear. Ha! She could have told him that the moment she walked out of that bloody portal! Not that she had actually ‘walked’ out in the first place. No, she’d been thrown out, spewed into this hellish nightmare in a halo of fire. Fire? It seemed oddly appropriate somehow. Maybe… Maybe this was hell. Oh gods, what if she was dead? Was this… Was this purgatory? Maybe this was her punishment for living such a wild life of drink, sex, and loud music? Surely not! She’d been a good mare for the most part. Sure, she hadn’t- “Ow!” Something was digging into her rump and she reached down. It was her panniers. With a bit of wriggle and a hard tug she pulled them off, shoving them aside as she wallowed in self doubt and worry. What she needed right then was a drink. Unfortunately all they had here was tea, water, and variations on the theme of blandness. Gods forbid that a pony had something that might distract from ‘The Great Project’! Maybe a read would help settle her down for the night…

Lyra was about to get up and rummage through the bookshelf when her eyes drifted back to her panniers. That little book she’d found! She had no idea why she’d lied to Parchment about its origins, after all it was probably just a long forgotten journal or instruction manual from one of the scientists that had fallen down the back of the cabinet and got stuck. Judging by the state of the thing that’s exactly what had happened too. It was, however, a lot older than she’d expected. The leather bound item literally stank of damp; that uniquely papery mustiness which old books were prone develop when left behind in long forgotten places. Aside from the state of the cover though the paper itself was in quite good condition, and thankfully dry enough for the pages to turn without sticking to one another. What was surprising was that it was mostly written in ancient equestrian, with a few more modern terms thrown in here and there. So much for nice relaxing read! Still, Lyra had a good knowledge of the old language of her homeland. Even if she hadn’t exactly excelled academically during her school years, this had been one field where she had. The difference was that ancient equestrian was actually interesting. It had side benefits too, particularly when it came to her written works and requests for lectures on the old world. That, it has to be said, had been pleasantly lucrative too. The books had sold reasonably well, albeit to a very limited audience due to its subject matter. Not exactly ‘required reading’ in colleges and universities, her treatise on ancient sculptures and the deities of the various tribes and other peoples of Equestria had been in the top sellers list for academics for the last three years. She’d been very proud of that, and it was oddly ironic that she was still scratching in the dirt up to her fetlocks in mud or trying to get a few bits singing gigs, instead of lording it up in some mansion surrounded by hot and cold running staff. So much for ‘the riches of academia’!

The first page of the book was written in faded black ink. Touching it produced a faint tingle which was indicative of magic at work, but nothing dangerous so far as she could tell. By the looks of things a spell had been cast on the archaic tome to prevent it decaying any further than it had. That was interesting in itself. Clearly somepony had wanted to protect it, and although simple, the ward was just as strong today as it had been when first cast. Intrigued, Lyra began to read.

I have decided to keep a journal of my discoveries in the fields of experimental trans-dimensional teleportation dynamics and theoretical thaumaturgical applications. Hopefully this will prove of some use in the future should I ever deem it necessary to refer back to see why I thought this path I am taking was a good idea to begin with. For now at least, I am unsure that I should not have simply followed in my father’s hoofsteps and concentrated on learning his trade before I inherit the family vineyards. Although I cannot abide the taste of the rotten liquid, my future fortunes are assured upon his demise. Perhaps if I merely employed staff who knew what they were doing and ‘supervised’ from a distance? It would doubtless allow me the time to concentrate on my true passion and, just as importantly, provide a steady flow of bits to help achieve the goals I have set myself.

Lyra turned the page, picked up a carrot stick, and began munching. So far it seemed that the erstwhile scientist who had penned this diary had been a touch reluctant to begin a diary in the first place. Not only that, but they hadn’t been especially confident that they were working on something that was actually achievable. At least, that was the impression Lyra had from some of the opening remarks, not least of which were copious scribbled notes in the border proclaiming certain information she’d recorded as ‘Pointless!’, ‘Ludicrous!’, or her personal favourite, ‘Buckweaseling morons!’ She’d laughed at that one, spitting carrot particles over the bed spread. In the process of brushing the orange fragments from the bed, Lyra accidentally knocked the diary over, losing her place. With a cluck of her tongue she picked it up, and then, to her surprise, noticed a name on the open page that she recognised - ‘Pudding Head’. Good goddess, that was the name of the leader of the earth ponies from the time of three tribes! She read on…

I cannot believe that the cretins in charge of magical research at the academy have cancelled, CANCELLED!!! MY WORK! The bucking, arse licking scum. SCUM!!! Every last bucking one of them should be taken out and flogged, hanged, and then chopped into pieces for the disgusting traitorous lies they have perpetuated to their people! I hate them! HATE THEM!!!

“Wow!” Lyra took a sip of her drink. “Settle down there, girl. You know what they say about the excessive use of exclamations.” She chuckled and continued…

Alibus, that tired old goat of a stallion, had the sheer audacity to tell me this morning that negotiations between that buckwitted, buckweasel, ‘King’ Broad Elm, and the assorted imbeciles in our high council, had ‘hi-lighted concerns’ about what he called the ‘potential for the proliferation of portals around the borders of ‘his’ kingdom, as apparently they ‘could be used to stage an invasion of his lands’! A more egregious display of self righteous hubris I have never before seen in my life. Who the hell does he think he is? No wonder they call him ‘Pudding Head’! That dim witted mud pony is only in the position he is because we permit him to be so. If our ‘glorious leaders’ had the backbone to say what we’re all thinking instead of playing pat-a-cake with the dullards, then we’d be in complete control of all the land dwelling creatures instead of ‘sharing’ it with the educationally and physically subnormal. The pegasi, unable to feed themselves without our help, would soon follow suit. Subjugation of the two would make us all the stronger. Of that I have no doubt.

“Good goddesses, megalomania here we come!” Lyra sniggered and flicked to another page further on. “Let’s see what you’re up to now, me duck.” It did seem a bit of shame, skipping to the end like that, but then she’d always been the impatient type. Besides, she could always go back and read it all at any time she wanted. She took a biscuit and flicked through to one of the last entries.

Today was the last day, the absolute culmination of all of my hard work and dedication these last twenty years. The emergent system is as perfected as it can be considering the current situation I find myself in; this despite there being so much more I could have done for Equestria, and the benefits they would bring to all of pony kind. What I leave now is more than simply a legacy however, it is the future - a bright, wondrous future that will improve the way of life for our people. I can only pray that they will eventually come to understand the incredible potential of such a marvel of magical science. To that end I have left a copy of all my experimentations, directions, and even the prototype, in a will made out to my most trusted student.

I have no regrets for what I have done to achieve this goal, and I go to my fate knowing I have done all that I can. Let those who doubted me dwell in their own filth and depravity whilst those whose minds are still open can someday lead us out of the darkness. It is no wonder those who call themselves the ‘wendigo’ have left us. Sometimes I wish I had joined them myself, leaving the closed minded amongst our ruling classes behind. Alas, the time for regret is done and gone. They will be here soon enough. As I pen these last words in the land of my birth, the portal is standing open, waiting for me. The matrices are set, the explosives primed. Now there is only one last thing to do: I shall take one final look at my home to say goodbye before the spells activate.

Tomorrow, as my mother used to tell me, is yet to be known.

“Yikes!” Lyra put down the book and tidied away her plate. “Looks like somepony had a screw loose or two,” she muttered to herself. “Buckweasel!” She’d have to remember that one. In fact, when she got out of here she’d be writing up her experiences the first chance she got. Humans, alien technology, human-pony hybrids, and megalomaniac scientists working on a portal that can take them anywhere. There were a hell a lot of questions here, and a lot of pieces which she could, if she took the time, put all together. The way things were at the moment it was probably best not to overthink things though, particularly as her host was definitely on the dangerous side of genius. Turning humans into zeks? The thought was frightening enough without considering the horrifying moral implications. Blue had lost everypony, or rather every ‘one’, that he knew to the maester’s minions. It was doubtful any of them had been turned into zeks willingly. Lyra shivered, pulling the pillow over her eyes. Why had Hesta laughed when Lyra had said they’d been prisoners? Some of the humans had been prisoners, at least according to Celandine and Blue, but Parchment had said the princesses had been exiling ‘problematic’ ponies here since time immemorial too. From what she knew about Galius, the mage who had been heavily involved in the creation of the portals, if not their creator. Something didn’t quite add up though. The ponies sent here were far from your regular prisoners, they were… wait… Tossing off the pillow, Lyra snatched up the diary. She flicked through the pages, searching.

I have no regrets for what I have done to achieve this goal.

“Dear goddess...”

As I pen these last words in the land of my birth, the portal is standing open, waiting for me. The matrices are set, the explosives primed. Now there is only one last thing to do: I shall take one final look at my home to say goodbye before the spells activate.

“Explosives.” Lyra shook her head in amazement. “The portal… It has to be!” Her heart racing she turned page after page, searching for…

...the world shall never forget. Some day, the name of Galeus will be on every ponies lips.

“Luna’s backside, I… I can’t believe it!” Lyra’s hooves shook as she held the diary. Closing the cover she stared at the worn, leather binding. There, in the bottom right hand corner in faded gold leaf, was a stylized letter ‘G’. ‘G’ for ‘Galeus’. She was holding the holy grail of archaeological finds in her hooves. And she’d dropped half eaten carrot pieces on it! If that didn’t deserve three exclamation marks she didn’t know what did! Moreover, it cleared up a lot of the mystery surrounding her disappearance. By the sounds of things, Galeus had been chased by the authorities after they’d discovered her use of ‘volunteers’. Particularly when they’d discovered the old folks homes, mental asylums and schools for ponies with learning disorders, had been ‘losing patients’ at an alarming rate. By the look of things it would seem that the local mad scientist had blown up her tower after taking one last trip through the portal. It would certainly explain the burn marks on the remaining stone work. What was truly surprising though, was that the portal hadn’t been destroyed in the blast that brought the tower down. Which meant… What if the agency goons hadn’t been able to blow up the portal either? What if the portal was still working! Ah, but if that were the case, wouldn’t somepony have come through after her? Hmm… Maybe not. Then there was the fact that nopony here appeared to have attempted, or to even seriously consider going back the other way either. Ah, well, since it was buried under tonnes of rubble and earth that wasn’t exactly surprising. But wasn’t it worth a try now? She’d have to have a word with Parchment or, if push came to shove, that snooty shit, Hesta. That, however, could wait until morning. Right now, she was absolutely knackered.

Lyra let out a loud sigh as she snuggled into the pillow. Despite its age, the springs in the frame and the mattress were just right for a pony, and Lyra was soon drifting away into a land of gentle warmth and feathery softness. She let out a long, low groan as the covers slid over her, down her neck, and… Hang on… What was-?!

“MMF!”

The last thing the green mare expected to see was a large creature, half equine, half human, in her bedroom. She certainly didn’t expect to have a huge hand clamped over her muzzle. Panic gripped her, her muffled scream deadened by the unyielding calloused appendage. A pair of brown eyes met hers.

“Be quiet, Ah’m not here to hurt yer.” The huge creature nodded to her slowly. “Ah’m going to take ma hand away. Promise you won’t scream, Miss. Promise ya’ll hear what ah have ter say.”

Despite her fright, Lyra managed a nod and the hand relaxed slightly, moving just far away so she could speak. “Th… Thirty?” Lyra swallowed. “You’re alive? I thought the zeks were hunting you?”

“They are,” the large creature replied. “But there are many secrets in the citadel that have been forgotten.” He smiled wryly, “But not completely.”

“What’s going on?” Lyra felt a shiver run down her spine even being near this thing. It had saved her from the chock, that was true, but the great hulking beast was definitely unhinged, and it was likely to snap at any moment. She’d have to humour it.

“There are… ponies… who want to meet yer,” Thirty said in his weighty tone. “They need ter speak to yer.”

“Ponies? What ponies?” Lyra asked, a little perplexed. “You mean here? Here in the citadel?”

The big creature shook his head, “No. In the forest, in the caves. They want me to take yer to ‘em.”

“Me? Why? I’m just a uni- I mean, I’m just a pony, Thirty.” Lyra hoped if she played along long enough he’d either get bored and leave, or a zek would come and take the crazy monster away.

“They told me yer had a friend. A friend called...” He frowned in thought, “Blue?”

Now she really did have his attention. “Blue?” Lyra sat up, “What about him? Is he… Is he alive?”

“They said he’s alive,” Thirty nodded. “They said to tell yer they need yer help.”

Blue was alive?! Lyra felt as though a weight lifted from her soul that she never knew was there. After everything that had happened, to hear he was alive was… it was amazing. Beyond amazing! “Is he with these ponies then?”she asked animatedly. “What do they want with me?”

“Ah don’t rightly know.” There was that odd southern inflection again. Thirty scratched his head. Apparently he genuinely didn’t know. “They need help with something.” The poor sod looked so helpless it made Lyra’s heart go out to him.

“What can I do, Thirty?”

This at least seemed to mollify the odd creature. “Come with me,” he said quietly, looking towards the door. “Ah will get you there to the caves where we’’ll meet the ponies. Ah’ll have yer back here by morning.”

“A night time adventure to meet some mysterious ponies, eh? How could I say no to that?” Lyra was still unsure, but then Thirty had said Blue was alive. How else could he have known about the human unless Celandine had told him, or else Blue was there in the cave waiting to see her. Yes… Yes, that had to be it! “Well, let’s go, big guy,” she said trying to raise a smile. She grabbed her panniers and, after finishing her drink, followed the large creature out into the corridor.

This time of night the citadel took on a whole different atmosphere than it had during the day. It wasn’t just the darkness either, broken up as it was into alternating islands of shadow by the yellow pools of light from the electric light bulbs - it was the sounds. Reminiscent of the slowly decaying ships on the shoreline, the metal structure echoed with a veritable cacophony of creaks and bangs as it cooled along with the dying warmth of the day. Lyra barely noticed it now, but then it was surprising what you could get used to. Years of sleeping in draughty tents at dig sites, or catching a few precious winks in a tour bus, gave her the advantage of being able to sleep pretty much anywhere. If only it weren’t so damned hot all the time.

The climate on the island was certainly what Lyra would have called ‘tropical’. In fact it was straight out of one of those fancy holiday brochures she’d seen offering ‘Sun, Sea and Good Times!’ She wasn’t so sure about the latter, but the ‘sun’ and ‘sea’ parts were delivered in spades. The daytimes were full to the brim with lashings of hot sunshine and blue, cloudless skies. Whereas the night times were the complete opposite. They were dark, very dark, and surprisingly cold too. This heating and cooling caused expansion and contraction in the old metal structures that behaved in an almost organic fashion. Windows were nearly always shut in the citadel too, all except for the very highest ones in the tower. The rest were kept firmly closed and ventilation was maintained for the most part by an intricate system of fans that ducted barely cooled air throughout the corridors and rooms. All in all the design of the citadel had been well thought out, and it provided everything a pony could possibly need. There was food, water, even hot showers available to all. If you wanted, and if you had the time of course, you could even go outside. Naturally the word ‘Outside’ in regards to the life of the citadel’s inhabitants wasn’t quite what you’d expect. A massive curtain wall some thirty feet high surrounded the tower and other structures attached to it, providing a recreational space of approximately fifty feet in width encircling the main central buildings like some gigantic wheel. Although quite often in shadow, this provided a goodly amount of space for a morning walk, a canter, or even a full on gallop if you so wished. Morning exercise was encouraged to maintain a certain level of fitness, however for Lyra to get up early enough to take advantage of this she’d have to forgo some of her precious sleeping time. So far the only exercise she’d been ‘taking advantage of’ involved brushes, mops, dustpans and buckets. A crafty snooze in the alcove under the stairs had soon been discovered by that damned snoop Avanta. That little shit had some kind of sixth sense when it came to detecting ponies skiving off for a few minutes of peace.

To go outside of the citadel proper involved passing the ever present zeks who patrolled the exercise area, managed the main gate where the villagers deposited the food deliveries, and manned the towers to keep an eye out for… for whatever it was they looked out for. Chocks, maybe? The bloody things were one hell of a menace, but other than them the only other wildlife Lyra had seen were various kinds of parrot, a small breed of grey furred monkey, and worryingly large insects. Still, dragonflies couldn’t tear your head off and eat you alive, so she could live with them. As for the chocks, how come there were so many here anyway? From what Parchment had told her on one of his rare visits, the zeks would occasionally set out on what he’d called a ‘culling expedition’ to thin the dangerous things down to more manageable levels. The evidence of this was all around them too, from the bed covers and table cloths, to floor rugs and even the cloaks worn by the zeks. Despite this abundance of what you might conservatively think of as ‘recycled’ chock fur, there were still plenty of the more normal woollen blankets to be had if one preferred. Albeit somewhat threadbare due to their age, a large number of these had been salvaged from the human vessels over the years and were kept well laundered so as to prolong their usability. As popular as these may be however, there was no denying that chock fur was a lot warmer at night. Unfortunately you could never quite get away from the faintly musty smell, nor the fact that the thing you were sleeping under had once been part of a living being. To Lyra’s surprise she hadn’t been all that bothered by it. This may have had something to do with the fact that the damned things kept trying to eat her of course, so as far as she was concerned being turned into comfy rugs and blankets was well deserved payback.

“In here,” came the now familiar weird southern drawl.

Lyra paused, watching Thirty move a storage cupboard the cleaning teams used for fresh laundry to one side with unsettling ease. It would have been a heavy enough task with magic, but the muscular biped made it look as though the heavy wooden object weighed no more than a feather. The difference in strength between Lyra and this unusual creature made her question why she was even considering doing this, especially as the revealed grating behind the cupboard brought back memories of dashing through dusty air ducts into stark, very frightening, focus. Not long ago she’d been running for her life from this thing, and now he just appears in her bedroom in the middle of the night, tells her to follow him, and she simply nods her head and says ‘Okay! Sure, why not, eh? Hope somepony finds the body one day!” Gods above, was she crazy?! She looked over her shoulder, half hoping to see somepony coming around the corner to-

“Oop! Hey, watch where you’re shoving!” Lyra sneezed out a cobweb as she was manhandled into the open air duct.

“No time,” came the simple reply.

In what seemed like no more than seconds, Thirty had followed her into the duct, pulled the cupboard back in place, and replaced the grille. So much for second thoughts! Lyra thought bitterly. Well, she had agreed to come, so it wasn’t like she could complain about it now. Thirty hadn’t been mean to her, other than grabbing her rump just now, and it didn’t seem like he was going to invite her to dinner. Yet. She shuddered, but kept walking ahead of the bipedal thing as calmly as possible. Thirty meanwhile merely whispered directions like ‘Turn left’, ‘Turn right’, and so on, like some weird talking map. Ha! Like they’d ever catch on! “In two hundred yards, take the first left,” Lyra muttered mechanically.

There was a sniff behind her, “What?”

“Nothing,” Lyra replied with a sigh. “Just thinking out loud.”

“Not left,” Thirty corrected.

“No?”

“At the next junction, go straight on.”

“Oh, joy,” Lyra chuckled. She rolled her eyes and tried to keep her mind off just how close the large creature was to her backside. Every so often she could feel his breath tickling her tail hairs, and did her best to keep her tail covering more ‘vulnerable’ areas. This in itself only served to make her increase her pace - an act that had her squeaking in fright as a meaty hand pulled on her dock.

“Too fast,” Thirty said heavily. “They’ll hear us.”

“Who?”

“Zeks,” Thirty replied. “Ponies will be asleep. Zeks…” he paused, “Zeks rarely sleep.”

Of course they didn’t sleep! Why would they? After all, who in their right mind would create monsters that actually needed to get some shut eye every now and again? Images of a zek popping its odd shaped head into the air vent in front of her, those terrifying blue eyes staring right at her, sent a shiver down Lyra’s spine. It would have to wait its turn though, adding itself to the other horrifying thoughts that were queuing up in an apparent event to have her peeing herself in fright. Luna help her, she could barely see a bloody thing! The faint glow of her magic allowed her to see a few feet in front of her, but that was all. She could have used a brighter light spell of course, but in such a close environment it would have all but blinded the two of them, not to mention given away where they were to anypony wondering why their air vents were suddenly glowing. Unfortunately she’d never considered learning how to turn the brightness down on the spell at the time, and now it was too bloody late wasn’t it! Gods above, how stupid could you get? And why was she doing this anway?! Panic was welling up in her belly, sending warning messages to every limb, readying them to run. As hard as it was not to, she kept finding herself increasing her pace, only to slow again after a warning huff from Thirty. Hell fire, at least if he said something it would take her mind off things.

“Hey, Thirty?” she tried.

“Quiet.”

And that was that! The rest of the slog through the air ducts comprised of slopes, turns, descents, and then, without any warning, the smooth metal abruptly dropped down at an alarming angle. Lyra tried to slow her descent, but hooves aren’t necessarily the best at gripping smooth steel, and her attempts at slowing her descent only exacerbated the problem. Suddenly she found herself sliding, picking up speed- backwards. Lyra opened her mouth to scream as a large hand shot out and grabbed her forehoof. Their eyes met.

“Th… Thanks,” Lyra swallowed.

Thirty nodded, yet in that briefest of moments as the two breathed in relief, the metal around them, never meant to take such a combined weight, let out a shrieking groan. Something popped, gave, and then floor itself gave way. Thirty vanished into absolute darkness as Lyra stared at the black hole where he’d been barely a second earlier. Any thoughts of what she’d do next were snatched away as the whole air duct pitched up and she began to slide again, faster this time, accelerating her down into nothingness. Lyra swallowed, squeezed her eyes shut, and concentrated on throwing up a magical bubble that would give her protection from… from what? There was nothing there! Lyra’s eyes shot open as cold night air swallowed her, the green mare bursting from the pipe into the jungle with a keening howl of fright. In a strange twist of fate the moonlight illuminated the ropes hanging from the opening, probably put there with the intention of allowing her and Thirty to use them to slide down to safety. Apparently whoever had put them there hadn’t expected the escapees, one of them anyway, to be leaving at something approaching escape velocity.

The green mare flew with all the grace of a rock, her legs flailing as she crashed through trees, bringing down a shower of leaves, branches and twigs in her descent. The ground sloped away from the citadel walls, cushioning her fall to some degree, whilst her magic formed a protective ball of golden energy around her.

“Oh, Luna!” Lyra managed, bouncing around in her sphere of magic. “Make it stop! I wanna get… Oh, gods…!” The magical shield may have saved her from bodily harm, but I did little to stop the world spinning around her in a nausea inducing whirl of motion. To her increasing horror, the meal she’d only recently consumed made an unexpected reappearance. Warm, stinking, and confined in there with her, the magic became a nightmarish ball of fur and vomit with Lyra as its centre, smashing its way down the slope, bouncing off trees, flattening the underbrush, and making an absolute cacophony until, finally, it came to a halt in front a group of ponies standing there in a semi-circle. All of them carried spears, some sporting various war paints and home spun garments clearly constructed from whatever they could find. What they’d found now however, was one of the most bizarre finds one could imagine.

“Is that… Is that her?” One of the warriors asked, staring at the golden ball.

“I believe it is,” the tall one replied. He poked the ball with his spear, making it roll back a few inches. “Hey! Are you alive?”

There was an indefinable sound from inside the sphere, a movement as of something… unfolding. “I don’t know,” a muffled voice said shakily from within. “I think… I think I really need a bath.” The light flickered out and the magic ball vanished. In an instant the creature inside dropped to the ground, her fur slick, steaming in the cool night air, and her face covered in…

“Lode’s breath! You stink!”

Bloodshot yellow eyes stared up at the shocked warrior, “You sure know how to make a good first impression, big guy.” Lyra pulled herself to her hooves and spat out something vile. “Got a drink?”

There was a nervous shuffling of hooves before one of the band hesitantly thrust forward a water skin. Lyra pulled off the wooden top and took a swig, washing her mouth out with the warm fluid. The next mouthful helped take the awful taste of her own stomach contents away. She looked up, glancing from one pony to another. “You guys auditioning for a new series of Daktari, or is the jungle bus due?” Silence. “Hello? Is somepony actually going to say something? You know - speak?”

“Speak?” One of the warriors, with the encouragement of his fellows, stared intently past Lyra along the track she’d made, “Where is Thirty?”

“Buggered if I know,” Lyra replied, flicking a lump of carrot from her mane. “We were heading here through the air ducts when part of it gave way and he vanished. The next thing I knew I was flying downwards and out over the jungle.” She took another swig of the water, “Without wings I might add.” “Gods,” she breathed, “Now I know how hamsters feel.”

“Hamster?” one of the warriors asked.

The tall one gave him a shove accompanied by a warning glance. He turned to Lyra, “You are Lyra Heartstrings.”

“Unfortunately,” the green mare muttered. She took a breath and stared up at the strange stallion. “And who are you, Chief? You the guys Thirty wanted me to see?”

“Is he dead?”

Lyra shrugged, “Like I said, I don’t know. One second he was there right behind me, the next the pipe just gave way and he-”

“She’s killed him!” one of the warrior blurted suddenly. “She has killed the bridge of worlds!”

“Who?” Lyra glared at the younger stallion, her mane bristling. “What the hell are you blathering about, boy? I haven’t killed-”

“ENOUGH!” The tall one stomped his hoof angrily. “There is no time for this foolishness. Zeks will be upon us soon enough. The girl has caused enough noise to wake the dead, and I for one do not wish to join them. Come, children, into the forest.” He glanced at Lyra with an unreadable expression, “Thirty will find us if he lives. If not, then he will be joining his ancestors as shall we all some day. Follow.”

‘Follow’, eh? Lyra rolled her eyes and did as the new fellow instructed. Right then she was working on almost pure adrenalin anyway. Her lack of sleep, waking up to stare into the eyes of that frightening creature, and then stuffed into a tube only to fall into thin air over a forest… Well, what wasn’t there to like about that? Sure, it would make for one hell of an adventure novel, but personally, staying alive was her number one priority. It was a shame about Thirty though, he hadn’t really meant her any harm… Had he? She wasn’t so sure, but now there were more pressing concerns. One of which was the young piebald unicorn who had accused her of killing… who was it again? The ‘bridge’ or something? Bah! Stupid little idiot. He kept stealing glances at her, his grey eyes shooting daggers. Well, he’d better be good with that spear, because if he kept it up she’d be taking it from him and stuffing it up the little tool’s arse until it came out of his fat mouth. Wait. Was that…?She stared at him, making the young stallion look away hurriedly, but it wasn’t his face that had her so interested, it was what was poking out through the band of woven leaves and feathers atop it.

“You’re unicorns!” Lyra said as they hurried through the forest.

“Most,” the tall one said, glancing at her. “Now is not the time for stories, Lyra Heartstrings.” He made a clucking sound with his tongue and the peculiar band picked up the pace, threading their way through the dark undergrowth.

Notone of the strange ponies had a lamp or lantern with them, however they didn’t seem to need them. No provision for Lyra had been given in this regard either, other than for one of their number bringing up the rear to make sure she didn’t fall behind. Whether they were following a trail or simply well versed in slipping through the jungle like ghosts, Lyra couldn’t say for sure. Either way they didn’t run, instead keeping to a steady trot which ate up the distance in no time. At least, Lyra hoped so. The thought of those damned zek things chasing them down was beyond terrifying. An image of huge meaty hands grabbing at her from the dark sent a shiver down her spine and she nearly leaped forward into the stallion in front. Gods, why couldn’t they run?! Come to think of it, where were they going to run to? It was an island, and one that was constantly patrolled by those damned pegasi ‘seekers’. Thankfully the jungle canopy was so thick you couldn’t even see the stars. All there was was that all pervasive inky blackness, the chirp and squawk of unseen night creatures, and the slap of wet leaves. How the hell they stayed wet when it rarely rained was beyond her. And another thing, what about about the chocks? Feathers and fetlocks, the chocks! They had to be out here watching them. They were always hungry, and they had a taste for pony flesh – she’d seen that all to clearly. Celestia’s mercy, what was she doing here? At least in the citadel she was safe, and the zeks, as scary as they were, were there to protect the citizens. Out here she was fair game. She didn’t know who these ponies were, and with Thirty Thirty gone, how was she going to get back to the citadel? He had said he’d return her after speaking to this lot, hadn’t he? She thought he had, but now with her mind so befuddled with tiredness and fear she couldn’t remember. Hell, she couldn’t remember anything about anything now!

It was with this mixture of frustration, anger, and utter exhaustion both physical and mental, that almost had Lyra collapsing as they entered the home of the local tribesponies. Initially it was the sound of echoing hoofsteps that had clued her in that something was different, and then it was the light. Lots of light! As they emerged from the tunnel, an enormous underground cavern unveiled itself in a breathtaking display of glowing blue crystals, lamps of every conceivable kind, and ponies… so many ponies! Most of them, as Lyra quickly took note, were unicorns like her escort.

The group passed by several ponies guarding a set of large doors which were promptly closed behind them. Lyra barely noticed, staring instead at the horde of brightly coloured onlookers who were staring at her just as much as she was in return. They lined balconies, bridges, both natural and artificial, watching her with an intensity of curiosity such as she’d never seen before. All of them wore variations of the dress her escort were wearing: leaves, shells and feathers were most prominent, woven through manes and tails without any particular sense of what would pass as ‘fashion’ back home. Many had smears of bright colour across their faces or flanks, whilst others wore skins of… whatever animal the poor thing had been once. Only Celestia knew what they made of. Lyra had heard of tribes living in the remote parts of Equestria - those who had shunned more modern ways of living and preferred to stay in tune with nature. Expeditions into the uncharted wilds occasionally encountered them, bringing back incredible stories that both frightened and fascinated adults and foals alike. Other races had been encountered too, although how true some of the more ‘exotic’ claims were was anyponies guess. This lot looked like they’d been living here for dozens, if not hundreds of years too. How in Celestia’s name they’d managed to escape the attention of the zeks was yet another mystery to add to the ever growing list.

The group halted in front of a fairly innocuous looking hut, one not all that dissimilar to any of the others in the cavern. It was constructed from logs, roughly cut and shaped to form four walls. The roof was a combination of branches and leaves, which seemed out of place considering they were underground. Lyra was pondering that when a drop of ice cold water splashed onto her back making her flinch. Okay, so maybe an indoor roof wasn’t such a crazy idea after all! She reached back to brush the water off when a voice, heavy with age, spoke from the doorway.

“Lyra Heartstrings?”

Lyra turned to face the old buck, his wizened features speaking far more than mere words could convey about this guys age. So much for being bumped off when you hit thirty like the village! Lyra shivered at the thought. Perhaps there were advantages to living in a hut in a cave.

Rheumy stone grey eyes stared at her, “Come in, my girl. Please.”

Lyra nodded and, leaving her escort behind, walked into the warm and pleasantly dry interior. The bead curtain swishing back with a clatter of seashells behind her was a little unnerving, and reminded her of the fortune tellers tent at the funfair her mother had taken her to when she was a foal. The witch working there had been quite talented too, even using the age old crystal ball to give her an idea of what to expect in the future. It had been the usual stuff of course: fame, fortune, happiness. She’d even had some fame in her time, more than most in fact. As for fortune? Ah, not so much. And happiness? Well, she was happy living with Bonnie in their nice home in Ponyville. She liked her job as an archaeologist, and her musical career had… ups and downs. Just like any other career really. That said she’d really like to introduce her ex-band to the up and down motion of a cricket bat to the skull when she got back. Bloody swines…

“Lyra?”

Lyra looked up in surprise at the familiar voice. “Celandine?!” The yellow coated mare standing next to the ancient buck was covered in sweat and breathing hard. “What is it?” Lyra asked anxiously. “What’s going on? Is Blue here?”

Celandine shook her head, her eyes bloodshot and wet with tears, “Is Thirty with you? Is he outside?” She moved towards the door.

“Celandine, why don’t you sit down and have a cup of tea whilst we talk together,” the elder said softly. He held out a hoof, indicating a set of woven wicker chairs. “You’ve both had quite the adventure by the looks of things.” Reluctantly Celandine took a seat and hunched forward, staring into the cup of steaming liquid the elder produced for the two mares. She didn’t drink a single drop.

“He’s not here, is he?” Lyra asked. “Blue, I mean.”

Celandine visibly shook, whether out of tiredness, fatigue, or mental exhaustion, she looked ready to drop. “No,” she managed in a cracked voice. “He’s… He’s not.”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” the elder prompted. “I usually find that to be best, especially when meeting with old friends.”

Old friends? Lyra would hardly have called Celandine a friend. The snarky mare had nearly put a bullet through her, freaked out because she sang a song of all things, then blamed her for Blue’s… “Is he alive?” she asked quietly.

Celandine’s head came up so fast it made Lyra sit back hurriedly. The yellow mare stared at her, then turned her attention to the elder.

“The beginning?,” the old fellow suggested gently.

Celandine took a deep breath and took a sip of her tea. “He is,” she said quietly. “For now, anyway.” A long pause followed. “After you left I managed to staunch Blue’s bleeding and cauterised the wound. It looked worse than it was, but it still took him a day or so before he came back to me.” She hung her head wearily, “I used every bit of knowledge I had to save him, and… I did.” A faint smile ghosted across her face, “He heals surprisingly quickly, but he was burning up with a fever that I needed medicine for.”

“Medicine we have in the village,” the elder clarified.

Celandine nodded, “I came through the caves to avoid the chocks. It’s about a day’s journey in each direction, but Blue was…” She shook her head, “I didn’t have a choice.”

“What happened then?” Lyra asked, trying to encourage her to keep going.

“The elder gave me the medicine and I headed straight back,” Celandine summarised. “I made good time too, once the tide was low.”

“The caves fill up when the tide is at its height,”the elder added helpfully.

“I went as fast as I could, but… but it wasn’t...” Celandine squeezed her eyes shut. “I wasn’t quick enough.” A wracking sob took her, “I… I wasn’t...” The elder reached over and patted her hoof. She looked into his eyes and nodded as if reacting to some silent exchange. Whatever it was she took heart and continued, “They’d taken him.”

“Who, the zeks?” Lyra asked, feeling her hair bristling.

“Zeks, Seekers, probably both,” Celandine sniffed. “There was evidence of a fight, but not much of one. Blue had been too ill to move far. I’d left him a pistol. It was… It was on the floor when I arrived.” She took a breath, “It was empty.”

He’d put up a fight then. “Maybe they...” Lyra didn’t want to say it. “Had they-?”

Celandine shook her head, “There was blood there, but it was outside. They’d used explosives to blast their way into the medical room and get him.” She glanced at the elder once more, “I can’t understand how they knew he was there, unless...”

“Hey, don’t look at me!” Lyra said hurriedly. “I didn’t tell them shit! Anyway, they’d already attacked us once before, remember?”

“The chocks attacked, you mean,” Celandine said warily.

Lyra shook her head, “They did, but… but Parchment was there too. He…” She swallowed, “He wanted me to go with him to the citadel.”

“There was a pony there?” Celandine replied. Her ears stood straight up as she stared at Lyra in amazement. “There was a pony in our ship, and you didn’t say anything?!”

“We were kinda getting attacked by chocks at the time, remember?” Lyra countered. “Anyway, Blue had told me to stay where I was. It wasn’t like I let the bugger in...” She cleared her throat, “I didn’t let the chocks in. Parchment was already in the ship.”

“This Parchment, he is the pony you came through the portal in search of, is he not?” the elder asked.

Grateful of the distraction, Lyra nodded, “Yeah, he came through just before I did. I was sorta looking for him, but-”

“I’m sorry, you said you were ‘sorta’ looking for him?” the elder asked in surprise.

“Well, I was, sorta,” Lyra managed, feeling her ears burning. “I mean, I was going to go through the portal to find him, but these guys turned up and… well, they… um… they sorta blew it up, and I was blasted out the other end.” She cleared her throat noisily, “I was going to come through and look for him anyway, right? I mean, how could I not? He was one of the volunteers under my charge.” She saw the way the others were looking at her, “Hey, don’t look at me like that! I was going to come after him anyway, I just wanted to make sure it was safe first. Hell, it’s not like portals exist in Equestria any more, am I right?” The two stared at her uncomprehendingly.

“Portals don’t exist?” the elder asked in open mouthed amazement.

“Well, um, not exactly,” Lyra said trying to dig herself out of a hole. “They were mostly destroyed by the princesses, or time, or something, I’m not all that sure really. History is a bit unclear on that point.” She gave herself a hard shake. “Anyway, the point is that they’re as rare as Rok shit, and to find one actually working was the most incredible discovery I’ve ever been involved in. Whatever possessed Parchment to go through it is beyond me.” “The rest you know,” she added, nodding to Celandine.

“There are no more portals...” the elder whispered to nopony in particular. “We had hoped...” His old eyes stared into the small brazier in the centre of the hut. “I’d hoped we may find some way to use the old one in the forest, or perhaps the great portal if we could gain access to it.”

“The one in the citadel?” Lyra asked, “Forget it. The damned thing doesn’t do jack shit.”

The atmosphere in the hut was so thick you could have used it to spread on your toast. Thoughts raced through Lyra’s mind, with one in particular standing out. “Hey,” she began, “Thirty told me Blue was here. As in, already here?” She fixed Celandine with a questioning stare. “That was bullshit, wasn’t it.” The two ponies stared at the floor. Lyra could feel her hooves digging into the arms of the chair as her anger began to rear its ugly head. “You made Thirty lie to me to con me into coming here!” Her mane bristled, “Have you any idea how much shit you’ve caused me? Gods above, will one of you be honest with me for five bloody seconds? What the buck is going on here?”

“I think it would help if we all calmed down,” the elder tried.

“Calm down? CALM DOWN?!” Lyra was about as far from calm as it was possible to be right then. “I’ve been dragged out of my bed, made to crawl through shit covered air ducts in the middle of the night, nearly died, thrown out into thin air, nearly dying again I might add, and then ended up rolling through a forest covered in my own puke.” Her eyes locked with the old stallion’s “So don’t you bucking well dare tell me to calm down, old timer.” She huffed noisily, “I have absolutely no intention of calming down one iota until one of you two tells me precisely why I’m here. And right now I’ve got a horrible feeling I’m not here for a pleasant social call and a cup of tea!” She slammed her hoof on the table, “And there’s no sodding biscuits either! Some kidnapping operation this is!”

“You weren’t ‘kidnapped’, Lyra,” Celandine said wearily as though reasoning with a child. “Thirty was told only to ask you to come, not to drag you here.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Lyra retorted. “You send a hulking great monster like that to a girls room armed with a pack of lies about Blue being here, but it’s ‘not kidnapping’.” Her lip curled up angrily, “Like I was going to say ‘no’, right? You knew damned well which buttons to press to have me jumping to your tune, so don’t you dare try to make out you’ve got clean hooves in this, you sanctimonious, self righteous-.”

A distinct tinkling of china drew the mares attention. The elder raised an eyebrow, taking them both in with his uncomfortably knowing gaze, “Do you know who we are, Lyra Heartstrings?” He lifted a hoof, encapsulating the hut, “This place, these ponies - we are all the descendants of those who were deemed… ‘tainted’ by those in the village.”

“I gathered,” Lyra sniffed. “Your friend here called me ‘tainted’ when I first got here. Several times in fact if I remember correctly.”

Celandine shot her a look, but the elder continued regardless, “Not all the children in the village are given to the citadel. Some were sent into the forest.”

“To die,” Lyra said quietly.

“To die,” the elder agreed with a nod. “But one of the eldest in the village found this cave, the one we now call our home. Here we live, far from the gaze of the maester and her monsters. Far too, it has to be said, from the village some of us once saw as home.”

“You mean you spend your entire lives hiding underground?” Lyra shook her head in amazement. “Gods above, how can you live like this?”

“It’s better than dying,” Celandine replied. “Here the ponies who would otherwise have been eaten by the chocks can live, have families, and grow old just as they were meant to.”

“They were ‘meant’ to be in Equestria, living beneath the sun and moon, not underground!” Lyra snorted.

“And what would you have us do, Lyra Heartstrings?” the elder asked. “The Maester controls this island, including the very sky and the sea which surrounds it. Here however we have fish, fresh food that grows in the light from the crystals, and at night we hunt the forests.” He smiled, “We have a life here. A good life.”

Lyra bit back saying what she really thought about even considering living in a cave as being a ‘good life’. As much as these people were ponies just like her, and mostly unicorns at that, she couldn’t help but shake the feeling that speaking her mind here could have unexpected, and very unpleasant, side effects. Her eyes were drawn to a spear leaning against the wall. She sighed, closed her eyes, and cleared her mind. “What has any of this got to do with me?” she asked.

Celandine shifted uncomfortably, “It’s Blue...” She coughed into her hoof and adjusted how she was sitting, trying to get her words out. “We need your help, Lyra.” The mare shook as she added, “We have to get him back before he’s turned into… into a zek.”

Now that really did get Lyra’s attention! “A zek,” she echoed levelly. “One of those bloody monsters?!” Her ears flattened as she got down from her chair, “Dear Celestia, why in the name of all the gods didn’t you tell me that from the get go? Do you seriously think I would have left him there to be turned into one of those… those freaks?!”

“We weren’t sure how you’d react,” the elder explained gently. “You don’t know us, Lyra Heartstrings. You barely know Celandine, let alone her human.”

“You barely know me, either!” Lyra countered. “Yet you saw fit to come and drag me here in the middle of the night!”

“I know, I know,” the elder smiled sadly. “But we had little choice other than to ask for your help - directly. You live in the citadel. You can travel its halls and its rooms without notice.”

“Thirty lived there,” Lyra offered. “Why didn’t you ask him? I mean, the guy could find his way through the air ducts, and-”

“Thirty is a child,” the elder said quickly. “Or more accurately he is… ‘young of mind’, if not necessarily in body.” He smiled sadly, “Once we used to joke that he was the worst kept secret of the citadel. The best part was that the maester knew it too. I don’t recall anypony being frightened by him, especially as he grew up there, and yet despite that she still kept him hidden from everypony, down in the dark places where few ponies had cause to go.” The old stallion’s eyes stared into the brazier, gazing into a time long passed, “He lived there, down in the darkness, a reminder of a time best forgotten. Forgotten by all but a few still alive today.”

“Best forgotten?” Lyra asked curiously. “Why? If you all knew who he was and where he was, why go to the effort of hiding him in the first place?”

The elder shook his head, apparently keen to change the subject, “For that you would have to ask the maester, Lyra.” He took a deep breath. “Thirty is a simple soul,” he said succinctly, “and one that is best left unburdened by life’s troubles.”

Ah, so he’s a bit ‘behind the curve’ when it comes to some of the more complicated thought processes, eh? Lyra didn’t say anything, but she got the idea. “One of your guys called him the ‘bridge’, or something?” she asked.

The elder nodded, “And so he is. He is a being born of two worlds: the human and the equine. He is the bridge between the two, and for that crime alone he was locked away from both the sun and the moon.” He raised an eyebrow, “As indeed are we, as you so correctly observed.”

Lyra felt a shiver run down her spine. ‘Bridge’ or not, it still didn’t explain why Thirty Thirty had been locked away by the maester. Lyra frowned in thought. If he was born of a union between a human and a pony, and considered a being from a time ‘best forgotten’, then perhaps… Was he the child of a rape victim? He was certainly a frightening creature to be sure, but to lock him away in the darkness seemed a cruel fate for a child who had not asked to be born as he was.

“Thirty used to steal medicine for us from the citadel stores,” Celandine explained. “We would trade with him in exchange for tea, food, lamp oil, and other necessities.”

Lyra hung her head, remembering the cup of tea she’d enjoyed before Thirty had freaked out and she’d ended up running for her life. “Well, I’m sorry to tell you, but on the way here the air vent collapsed and he fell just before I ended up shooting out the other end.” She looked up to meet the elders knowing gaze, “I’m sorry… There was nothing I could do.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry yourself about that,” the old stallion nodded knowingly. “He still lives.” He smiled, lifting his cup, “Of that I have no doubt.”

Lyra watched him closely, but as he said, the elder didn’t seem to have any doubt about what he was saying. “How can you be so sure?” she asked.

“Because I know, Lyra Heartstrings,” the elder grinned toothily. “Let us leave it at that, yes?” He reached up and scratched his mane, revealing his unfortunately short horn. “I think it may be time to explain a few things to our visitor whilst we refresh ourselves, yes?” Celandine didn’t seem too pleased by that statement, but reluctantly nodded. “Now don’t worry yourself,” the elder said pleasantly, “I have it on good authority that the human will be kept in his natural state for a few days before anything happens to him.” He glanced at Lyra, “Plenty of time to help our friends, wouldn’t you agree, Lyra Heartstrings.”

“It’s Lyra,” Lyra replied, meeting the ancient fellows gaze. “My name is Lyra. And as for helping you, I’ve already got an idea what it is you are going to ask of me.”

“Do you now?”

“Oh, yes,” Lyra replied pleasantly. “I may not have been top of my class in school, but I always know when I’m about to be shafted.” Celandine winced at Lyra’s words, but the elder never flinched. “Call it a ‘sixth sense’, so to speak.”

“Hmm...” The elder watched her for a while and then suddenly started to laugh, clopping his forehooves together. “Oh, most excellent! I like you, Lyra. You remind me of my late wife. She was always so… what’s the word… resilient?” He shrugged, “Bah! I never was much of a wordsmith. Suffice to say that we shall now retire to the springs and enjoy a bath. I trust you don’t mind mixed bathing?”

“We’re hardly in the Ritz now, are we?” Lyra replied.

“Ha! Well, wherever that is I’m sure it’s far superior to a cave,” the elder nickered toothily. “Come now, let’s go and soak the weariness from our old bones.” He sniffed surreptitiously, “Although, perhaps a wash first, eh?”

“Now we’re talking!” Lyra went to toss her mane but thought better of it. There were still lumps of… something, still stuck in there. “Oh, erm, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Didn’t I mention it?” The elder groaned, a wry smile passing over his lips. “My apologies, it must be my age.” He cleared his throat and stood up tall and straight. “My name, Miss Heartstrings, is Lode Stone.”

Chapter Nine - The Hidden

“This is madness,” Lyra muttered. A filly with bird skulls woven into her mane guided Lyra’s head back as she poured warm scented water over her mane. “You’re Lode Stone?” Lyra stared up at the rock ceiling, her mind reeling as it tried to make sense of everything she’d heard about him. “That can’t be right. You’d be over a thousand years old. Two, most likely. That would make you older than the princesses!”

“Not exactly,” Lode Stone smiled faintly. “But near enough. Time means very little to me any more.”

“I’m not surprised!” Lyra winced as something snagged in her mane. The filly gave her an apologetic look but carried on with her work whilst Lyra returned to her train of thought, “Ah, that’s it… It’s an inherited name. A title of sorts, right?”

“Oh, no,” Lode Stone said absently. “There’s only ever been one of me I’m afraid, for better or worse.”

“And you’re immortal, right?” She cocked an eyebrow, “Can’t say I’m seeing any wings there, but I guess if you’re a god then you could use your magic to hide them. Alicorns are pretty rare after all.”

The elder leaned back against the side of the bath, his eyes sparkling, “My goodness, you really think I’m a god?!”

“Your people think you are,” Lyra retorted. “Ever since I got here it’s been ‘Lode’ this, and ‘Lode’ that, every five bloody minutes! Now, I don’t know about you, but you don’t tend to become an expression unless there’s a touch of the old divinity knocking about, yeah? So what is it, Lode, are you the first male alicorn or what?”

Lode Stone gave the kind of chuckle typically reserved for older ponies when they were explaining things to foals, “I’ve never considered myself to divine, Lyra. If ponies wish to use my name as an expression then who am I to say otherwise?”

“So you’re saying you’re the same Lode Stone that came through the portal to this island.” Before he could answer, Lyra held up a hoof. “Before you answer that, let’s pretend that A: I’m not an idiot. And B: that I already know a lot more about Equestrian history than, I suspect, anypony else here.”

“Your point being?” Lode Stone asked.

Lyra grinned menacingly, “My point being: Don’t bullshit me. You want my help, you tell me the truth. All of it.”

A long pause followed. Lode Stone was clearly in no rush, quite the opposite of Celandine who was all but sucking in all the steam the way she was breathing, but the old codger was certainly one stubborn stallion. Perhaps he really was the real deal after all. “I was the first through the portal,” he began. Lyra’s ears immediately perked up, eager to hear more. “I was, at that time, just another proverbial ‘young buck down on my luck’, as the old saying goes. Back then you were either rich, or as poor as dirt. Ironic considering we called the earth tribe ‘mud ponies’. Hell, my family could barely afford to feed ourselves.” He sighed, “And so there I was, trying to use the few bits I had to gamble my way into riches.”

“I take it it didn’t work?”

“Of course it didn’t,” Lode Stone scoffed. “And those lying, fleecing bastards knew the game was rigged before you even walked in the door. Before you knew it the interest was piling up and I was dodging debt collectors left and right. It was only a matter of time before I was either sold into slavery or dangling from a rope. Then one day I stumbled across an advert pinned to the village notice board; it was an advert, I might add, from a certain well known young mare who was offering the right applicant fame, prestige, and most importantly, a boat load of cash.”

“Galeus,” Lyra intoned quietly.

Lode Stone waved a hoof, confirming her suspicion with a clucking of his tongue, “She needed a volunteer, you see, to take part in an experiment that would,” he held up his forehooves for air-quotes, “‘Change the world as we knew it.’” He snorted under his breath, “And of course, you know what that was.”

Lyra nodded, “The portal network.”

“Exactly,” Lode Stone confirmed. “Mind you it was still at the experimental stage at the time, so calling it a ‘network’ is a bit of stretch of the imagination. Even so, Galeus had already made several successful trial runs, but this one was going to be the very first with a live pony. And that pony, would be me.” He shrugged, “There was, however, one rather specific stipulation to the contract.”

“Let me guess,” Lyra said, tapping her horn, “no unicorns, right?”

Lode Stone beamed toothily, “Precisely.” He pointed to his own horn, “Naturally I wasn’t going to let something as silly as that keep me from all that fame and gold, especially considering the alternative, so I used some goose fat and used it to help cover my horn with my mane. It helps that I was always a touch, um, ‘reduced’ in the old horn department, but it had never stopped me before, and those bits sure looked good!” He chuckled throatily, “Anyway, there I was, the first through the portal.”

“Was there anypony else on the island when you arrived?” Lyra asked.

Lode Stone shook his head, “Not for a little while, no.” He shrugged, “It didn’t take me long to realise our devious little friend Galeus hadn’t planned for a return journey either. Not long after I’d set up my own little encampment, earth ponies started popping through the portal like popcorn - one after the other, after the other! Before you could say ‘Poppinjay’, we had a small community on our hooves.”

“But what about the humans,” Lyra interjected, “and Galeus. Didn’t she come through as well?” Lyra’s thoughts flew back to the diary.

“Galeus came through alright,” Lode Stone confirmed. “She was the one who had the citadel built. She used ponies at first, and then when the humans started arriving she used them too.” “Very persuasive that girl,” he added absently.

“But there was trouble, wasn’t there,” Lyra asked.

“Of course there was,” Lode Stone snorted, lifting his muzzle. “Back in Equestria, Galeus had been snatching ponies off the streets for her experiments; throwing them through the portal to see if the damned thing worked. I may have been the first but I sure as hell wasn’t the last” He took a glass of water from one of the bath house staff and nodded his thanks. “It’s ironic how she ended up becoming a guinea pig in her own experiment,” he continued, taking a sip. “To say she was less than welcome when she got here would be an understatement too, but if there’s one thing I can say about old Galeus, it was that she had the gift of the gab. Hell, that little bitch could convince a llama to fleece himself and pay you for the privilege of letting him do it!” Lode Stone sighed. “It wasn’t long after that she started working with the humans. Got pretty pally with them too if remember right, especially the more scientifically literate amongst them. But then one day a large ship washed up on the shore after one of the worst storms we’d ever had.” He nodded to Lyra, making sure he had her full attention. “Now ships and flying machines crashing into the island were hardly an unusual event by this time of course, and we all knew to take cover during the storms. As soon as they’d passed we’d come out to see what bounteous gifts the sea had brought us. The flying machines were usually nothing more than piles of burning wreckage and bodies, but the ships? Ah, the ships were the real prize – a veritable treasure chest of booty just waiting to be opened!” He chuckled, recalling the excitement of the islanders rushing down to the beach to see what delights awaited them. How the crew of the ship would react to being swarmed by sentient equines and human castaways was something that Lyra could only guess at. Lode Stone continued, “Humans and ponies alike would strip the vessels down to their bare bones for building materials, food, and whatever other supplies they could find. But this one was different. This one was brim full of prisoners their human guards called ‘zeks’. They weren’t too bad at first, a little rough and ready maybe, but some of them saw us as little more than animals.” He went quiet, watching the serving girls cleaning Lyra’s fur. Slowly his expression took on a haunted, faraway look, “I can still remember what happened. I just wish… sometimes I wish I could forget.”

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” Celandine cut in.

“No… No, I don’t, you’re right,” Lode Stone said gently. “But a story half told isn’t a story at all, Celly.” He smiled at her, his eyes full of gentleness and compassion, then turned to Lyra who was visibly hanging off his every word. “The humans are omnivores you see,” Lode Stone continued, “which means they eat both meat and vegetables. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem; there’s plenty of fish, birds, crabs and so forth to be found, but other than that this modest island of ours has little in the way of what you could call ‘natural resources’.” He closed his eyes and finished his drink, passing the empty glass to the smiling young mare. “Every time a ship arrived it came with more humans. More humans meant that the demand for food similarly grew, and it became a real balancing act to feed the ever increasing population. Fortunately the humans usually had stores on their ships and supplemented their meals with hunting. That helped tide things over until we could increase our fishing fleet and plantations to balance it all out. Everything was fine for a while, but when the zeks arrived there were just so many of them… so many...” He shivered, “Mostly they were soldiers returning from a great war on their world. Many were armed, taking weapons from their former captors who soon realised they were just as much prisoners on this island as we were.” Lode Stone let out a long breath, “We began to notice ponies going missing soon after; usually mares, sometimes fillies. Chocks were blamed at first of course, disappearances weren’t exactly uncommon amongst the village folk at that time, but then, when the evidence began to pile up against the humans, fights and accusations began to fly.” He let out a pained sigh, “It was like a match to tinder. When the humans openly turned on us we didn’t have a chance. We put up a fight of course, but what did we know of military tactics, guns, bullets and war? Equestrians aren’t warriors by nature, Lyra, and many of us saw the humans as something akin to saviours as it was, taking sides with them against our own. Oh, what fools we were...” He took another sip of his drink.

“They raped mares, didn’t they,” Lyra said quietly.

“Raped mares?” Lode Stone snorted loudly, “If it were only that it would have been bad enough, but the humans, some of them anyway, decided to start…” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath which he let out slowly, “They began to see us as another food source.”

“Dear goddesses,” Lyra breathed. “They actually ate ponies?” Suddenly her obsession with humans took on a whole new complexion. Surely Blue wouldn’t do something like that, would he? Sure, he was the only human she’d actually met, other than the zeks of course, but they hardly counted. The damned things were more like… like animals… Was that how the humans had seen the ponies back then? And what of Celandine? Was she a collaborator with the humans, turning her back on her own people? No… No, that couldn’t be right. She was in love with Blue, and she was here with the tribesponies as though she were one of them.

Lode Stone nodded in response to Lyra’s question, “It was the final straw. Those of us who could fight took up arms, hitting back at the humans with everything we had to hoof. Eventually we started to learn how to alter the humans’ technology to our own ends, gradually turning their weapons against them, using hit and run tactics to defeat them wherever and whenever we could. But...” He hung his head gravely, “It wasn’t enough. They defeated us again and again, corralling us like beasts to be bucked, bred, and eaten as they pleased. And then, Galeus devised a spell, a very potent spell which she used to convert the humans we’d captured into the creatures we know as ‘zeks’ today.” Lode Stone paused, his eyes staring off into a past Lyra could only begin to imagine. “We began raiding their camps in the night, using the concealment spells Galeus taught us to snatch as many of the humans as we could. Of course they found out what we were doing eventually and began to fortify their camps. By then though the tide had already turned. With the strength and size of the zeks to aid us, Galeus’ magic to help us infiltrate the humans strongholds and steal or destroy their supplies, we unleashed hell upon the remaining humans.”

“I’d call that ‘justice’,” Celandine huffed. “They deserved no less.”

“Perhaps,” Lode Stone replied with a nod of his head. “But at what cost was that victory earned? Galeus’s revenge upon the humans knew no bounds. Friend or foe, old and young alike, all fell to what she called her ‘new order’. The tower went up not long after that, the citadel constructed shortly thereafter, and one by one the humans became more legend than fact in the minds of the islanders. They’d still appear every now and again of course, when the magical storms that hit these parts tears open a rift between the worlds, but somehow they always wash up on the shore, and the next day they’re all gone.”

“And suddenly there’s new zeks at the citadel,” Lyra finished. “All except one.”

“Indeed,” Lode Stone said.

“So what’s all this ‘no unicorn’ business?” Lyra asked. “With the humans gone, why snatch the kids?”

“Ah, well that’s simple,” Lode Stone said as though the answer were obvious. “They’re needed to work on the master portal project. I’m sure you’re aware of that, yes?” Lyra nodded. “The Maester doesn’t think very highly of earth ponies, Lyra, or pegasi either when you get right down to it. So what better way to bolster your ranks than to keep the peasants ignorant and servile while you raise their foals as good little slaves to the will of ‘the great Maester’ in her cursed tower?” He shrugged again, “They all but worship the zeks as gods now, which suits the old bag who controls it all so perfectly. No, Lyra, she’s got the whole thing sewn up as tight as a drum.”

Lyra asked scratched her chin in thought, “Surely there must be some ponies in the village who know what’s going on, Lode Stone, even if they turn a blind eye to it.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you!” Lode Stone laughed. “Well, it’s true that not everypony in the village believes the crap the village elder spouts, you know. Unfortunately for us, when they shuffle off the mortal coil the citadel makes sure to appoint another brain washed puppet so the cycle of ignorance and servitude continues much as it always has. Some of the villagers have been secretly helping us for years though, and of course we’ve got our own healthy little population here too – such as it is.” He leaned towards Lyra, his voice low, “Bit thin in the old gene pool if you know what I mean, but you work with what you’ve got.”

Unfortunately Lyra knew exactly what he meant. Isolated populations had formed part of her thesis in university, even if it was something of an unpopular topic. Small populations meant a real possibility of in-breeding. Who knew how many ponies they’d started with here. It couldn’t have been that many. The ones she’d met so far did seem a touch… ‘odd’ too. In fact some of the ponies here looked like the should be plucking banjos on hammocks rather than carrying spears.

“The villagers throw out ponies who are old and sick,” she pointed out. “Do they come here too?”

“Sometimes, if we’re lucky,” Lode Stone explained. “We often get a tip off from the village and go and collect them. Unless the chocks get them first that is”

Lyra leaned back, letting herself float up in the water. Gods, it was so good to be clean! “So how did you become, you know, immortal?”

“Immortal?” Lode Stone shook his head, “Buggered if I know. Maybe it was a side effect of being the first unicorn through the portal. Galeus seemed to think so, but that was before we had a… ‘parting of the ways’ so to speak.”

“You obviously didn’t see eye to eye.”

“Hardly!” Lode Stone barked, splashing water out of his bath. “The silly old bat was building a private army, and the way she treated earth ponies was disgusting. Those of us who’d had it with her made ourselves scarce before she could use her vile spells on us.”

“What… Hang on...” Lyra sat up, rubbing her forehead, “Don’t tell me she turns ponies into zeks too?!”

“Zeks?” Lode Stone shook his head and began to pull himself out of the bath with the aid of one of the bath house workers. “You’ve already met some of them, haven’t you?”

“Met some of them?” Lyra blinked, trying to make sense of what he was telling her. “I don’t understand.”

The old stallion gave her a wry smile, scrutinising her as though examining a strange organism under a microscope. “How many other creatures have you met on this island since you arrived, Lyra? Four legs, pony sized...”

And then it hit her. “Oh my goddesses… The Chocks?” Lyra all but yanked herself out of the water. “You’re pulling my leg. She wouldn’t… I mean, nopony would do something so monstrous as that!”

“Wouldn’t she?” Lode Stone shook his head in resignation as the bath maids rubbed him down. “Let me tell you something, Miss Heartstrings. I was the first pony on this island, and I was here when the others began to arrive – terrified, alone, and utterly inconsolable that there was no way back through the portal. Some couldn’t handle it and wandered off into the jungle never to be seen again. We lost some good souls that way. Far, far too many...” He suddenly livened up, “Oh, some of them were volunteers, especially at first, but not all. And of those not one of them believed it was a one way trip. Bit hard to get ponies to jump into the unknown when they don’t think they’ll ever be coming back again, eh? After all, I’m still waiting for my fortune all these years later!” He smiled at the girl combing out his mane. She giggled coquettishly whilst he continued his tale,“The chocks started to appear around the time the zeks did. They were fairly docile things at first, more like dogs than anything else. The story going around was that they were native to the island and were on our side.”

“On your side?” Lyra asked incredulously.

“Oh, yes,” Lode Stone nodded. “They fought with the zeks and our people against the humans. After that they vanished into the jungle, becoming more and more feral - and aggressive. With no humans to eat they turned on the only other sizeable source of protein – us.”

“What did you do?” Lyra breathed, licking her dry lips. “Those things are killing machines!”

“We did what we could to defend ourselves of course,” Lode Stone replied. “But the zeks were unleashed upon them by the maester. Not long after that the chocks became only an occasional menace to the village, and to us.”

“I don’t know about that,” Lyra sniffed, “the damned things attacked the citadel, and at least one of them got inside too. Bloody thing nearly had me for breakfast, and would have too if your pal Thirty hadn’t turned it into paste and carted me off to his lair.”

“Ah… Yes, I heard about that incident...” Lode Stone stood by whilst the two mares were dried off. “A most unfortunate and unforeseen series of circumstances.”

“What are you talking about?” Lyra asked, furrowing her brow. “Hang about, you know something about that don’t you!” Her eyes went wide, “Bloody hell, you set it all up!”

Lode Stone paused, “Very astute of you. Yes, we had something to do with it. In actual fact we had everything to do with it.” He shrugged innocently, “You are aware of the medicine that the citadel uses, yes?”

“The stuff they give the villagers? Yes, I do,” Lyra replied tartly.

“Yes… Well, I doubt you’d be surprised to hear that they don’t make any for us.” The elder gave himself a shake, “As a result, from time to time, we have to remedy the situation in our own way.”

“By which you mean you use the chocks to attack the citadel, distracting the zeks while your guys go in and filch the medicine,” Lyra grimaced, remembering the lumbering pile of teeth and claws bearing down on her. “Am I right?”

Lode Stone nodded, motioning for the two mares to follow him. “Thirty used to take some of the medicine for us, but it was never very much. When our supplies started to fall below sustainable levels we were forced to take what we needed by other means. There’s a way in half way up the wall on the far side of the island, you see. It’s hard to reach, but any attempt to scale it leaves us wide open to being spotted by their pegasi patrols. And that’s where the chocks come in.”

“A diversion,” Lyra muttered.

“A diversion,” Lode Stone repeated.

“So you can actually control them, can you?” It seemed incredible, but then again, so did pretty much everything that Lyra had seen since she’d been spewed out of that damned portal. “The chocks I mean,” she finished.

“Some,” Lode Stone said quietly. “Those who have not… regressed so far.” He motioned to a doorway which was covered by a heavy tarpaulin. “In here, please.”

The room beyond was brightly illuminated by the ever present blue crystal that also formed part of the walls. Unfortunately what it illuminated in the large cage at the far end was far from something anypony would want to see, even in their worst nightmares. Black rusting metal bars formed a barrier between the ponies and the dark, growling shape beyond. Chestnut brown eyes stared at them defiantly from under thick bushy brows. A narrow, sleek body sprouted four long well muscled legs not unlike a large wolf, with a slim tail of the same colour curled around the things hind quarters. The head too was wolf-like, but more aquiline in shape, and with oversized teeth designed to rend flesh from bone with minimal effort. Lips peeled back in a vicious snarl at the interlopers, the ears flattening against the beast’s skull. And yet despite its state of captivity, the creature was apparently well care for. A bowl of food, water, a good quantity of blankets, and an area for the beast to use as a latrine were all provided.

Lyra walked closer, warily, but at the same time feeling a macabre sense of fascination to see one of these things up close. ‘Up close’ without the risk of death this time, naturally. She looked up at the metal bars, relieved that the solid looking barrier was there and also securely fastened. Normally she hated the thought of being locked up, kept away from the sun and moon as these ponies were, but this creature… She leaned in, staring into its eyes. “What are you?” she breathed.

The chock suddenly scooted back, its demeanour changing in an instant from one of defiance to one of… fear? Surely not. Lyra walked right up to the bars, watching the dangerous creature as closely as she dared. As it moved, wriggling into the blankets as though they were a shield against her gaze, she saw something, something that… “Oh, goddesses,” Lyra whispered. “Oh, no, how could they...”

“How? Magic,” Lode Stone said gently. He moved up beside Lyra, watching the beast beyond the bars. “Very old, and very dangerous magic.”

Lyra stared at the faint outline on the chocks flank, at the picture she’d only briefly glimpsed when she’d first arrived on the island. He’d had wings then too, but now this pegasi would never fly again. Their introduction had hardly been friendly and that was putting it mildly, but this? Nopony deserved this.

“Forty Eight,” Lyra uttered. “They did this to him… and for what? Because I didn’t let him kill me? Because I didn’t let them cart me off to only Luna knows where?” She closed her eyes and felt her hooves dig into the hard ground. “He was just a kid, Lode Stone. He didn’t even have a proper name for the goddess’s sake!”

Lode Stone’s expression was one of both sadness, and perhaps even a tinge of anger, “Aye. The poor lad was found like this a few days ago, wandering amongst the rock pools.”

“You took him in,” Lyra said, unable to take her eyes away from him. “Dear Luna...”

“Chock or pegasus,” Lode Stone began, “he’s still a pony, Lyra. Is he dangerous? Yes. He can still recognise other ponies for now, but soon that precious spark that made him what he was will begin to disappear, and all that will remain will be the brutality of the chock.”

“Can you help him?” Lyra asked hopefully. “Is there anything you can do for him?”

“You mean to reverse the transmutation?” Lode Stone shook his head, “We’ve tried, more times than I care to remember. I don’t what foul magic the maester uses on them, but it’s effective alright. Nothing we tried worked. All we’ve ever achieved was to cause them more fear and pain, and believe me, these poor devils have had more than their share of that already without us adding to it.”

“But you can’t just keep him here like this,” Lyra replied. “And if you let him out into the jungle he’ll end up like the rest – killing ponies for food.”

“And that’s the bitter truth of it, Lyra.” Lode Stone took a breath, trying to keep his head up. It was obvious how hard this was for him. “We can’t keep him here, and we can’t release him.” His eyes met the chocks, and then a strange thing happened – the creature, for all its teeth, claws, and barely restrained fury, let out a faint, mewling cry. It was haunting, echoing around the room, rattling Lyra’s already frayed nerves. It was like a foal… crying. As she watched, a single tear rolled down the chock’s face, soaking into its fur. It was all so… so equine. The green mare had never seen anything like this before, and prayed she never would again. But… was this her fault? If she hadn’t come through the portal and encountered Forty Eight on the beach, then… She swallowed; how could she have known this would be his fate? Hell, if he’d captured her then she may have ended up one too! Or… or as a cleaner. Oh, goddesses, what a bucked up world…

“Don’t worry, my young friend, you’ll be going home soon.” Lyra thought Lode Stone was talking to her, then noticed how he waved a hoof to one of the bath house maidens who nodded in response, trotting off through a side passage. He sighed, “We all go there sooner or later. The least we can do is to go with dignity whilst some of it remains.”

Lyra frowned, “What do you mean?” She saw the maiden reappear carrying a basket of food. It looked quite delicious too: apples, carrots, and several fish, all for the predominantly meat eating chock. But there was something else, something she couldn’t quite put her hoof on, that was wrong here. “You’ve poisoned it,” she said quietly.

“He knows,” Lode Stone replied. “He had enough of himself left to know to seek us out.”

“You mean he came here to die,” Lyra breathed.

“It was his choice,” Lode Stone huffed, opening the door to the main cavern. “A choice I will honour.” He caught the look in her eyes and sighed, “If there was any other way we would have found it by now, Lyra. A lot of us may be unicorns, but we don’t have the equipment and resources that they have in the citadel. Even so, it didn’t stop us trying to help those the maester had… mutilated.” He caught her eye and frowned, “I hope you realise that none of us take any pleasure in easing the passing of one of our own, even if they are from the citadel. I would hope that if the roles were reversed then somepony would offer the kindness same to me.”

‘Kindness’? Lyra didn’t know what to say. They were going to kill him, and they thought that this was helping him?! The poor kid had been terrified, had seen his friend eaten alive on the beach, fled for his life, and then they’d turned him into this… this monster. And yet despite all of that, in spite of everything he’d endured, he’d still retained enough of himself to come here… here to die, locked in a cage so he couldn’t hurt his own people. Eventually she said, “It’s just so senseless. Why would she do something like this?”

“Discipline maybe?” Lode Stone offered with a shrug. “A way to keep the rest in line through fear? Perhaps it’s as simple as having a sick fascination with causing others suffering.” He shook his head, “I don’t know the answer, Lyra. Even if I did, it would change nothing.”

Lyra tried to push the image of the chock, of Forty Eight eating the poisoned food whilst he lay on the blanket, waiting. Just… waiting. She gave her mane a shake and lifted up her hooves, “But why are you showing me all of this?” she asked. “Are you trying to make a point here?”

Outside, or rather what passed for outside in the underground cavern, was like the literal breath of fresh air compared to what was back inside. What would they do with the body? Would that turn him into… into rugs? Oh goddess, she’d been sleeping under one! She’d walked on them. She’d walked on and slept under the skins of ponies! She felt sick. Damn it all, she really did feel sick.

“A lot to take in, isn’t it?” Lode Stone said laying a hoof on her shoulder. He passed her a drink as she leaned against the wall, retching. “I’m sorry for showing you that, Lyra. Sometimes I forget how horrible it is for ponies to come to terms with the realities of life here. We haven’t had a new pony on the island for...” He shrugged, “I don’t know. Hundreds of years, maybe?”

Celandine cleared her throat, leaning towards the old stallion, “Lode Stone, Blue can’t wait any longer. You know what they’ll-”

A hoof pulled her up short, “Celly, leave this to me. You go and help with the preparations, I’ll speak to Lyra alone if you don’t mind.”

“But-!”

The old stallion gave her a hard look and she hung her head before reluctantly turning away without another word. “She always was headstrong,” Lode Stone said, watching her go. “If I hadn’t stopped her she would have thrown herself at the citadel single hoofed. Then…” He shrugged, “Well, it doesn’t bare thinking about now, does it?”

Lyra coughed, rinsed her mouth, and spat out the acrid taste of bile. She wasn’t convinced this guy would have given a flying buck if ‘Celly’ had gotten herself killed trying to free Blue. It was hard to put your hoof on it exactly, but there was something in the old guys mannerism that made her think he wasn’t quite the genial old gent he made himself out to be. “You want me to let you in from the inside so you can get the medicine, right?” She took a breath, wincing at her sore sides. “All of this was just your way of convincing me to aid your cause. Blue’s rescue is only a secondary objective.”

Whatever Lode Stone thought of Lyra’s deduction remained hidden behind those fathomless eyes as he watched her. He closed his eyes and took a long breath before letting it out slowly. “I’d like to say that it’s your choice, Lyra,” he offered. “But I’m afraid that, like me, you don’t have one.”

“What do you mean, ‘I don’t have a choice’?” Lyra felt her mane twitch worryingly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of the warriors shifting the grip on his spear.

“None of us have a choice,” Lode Stone replied, ignoring her concerned gaze. “Not me, not you - none of us.” He walked away a few steps and looked up at a pair of foals running around a pillar, the two whooping with laughter as they tried to tag one another. Their sharp peels of mirth cut through the background murmur of ponies talking, working, and otherwise getting on with what passed for life in the great cavern. “I need that medicine, Lyra. They need it. If we don’t get it soon then the last of our supplies will run out completely. What we have now will only last a month, maybe two if we stretch it out, but when the last phial is empty, when the last drop has gone, then gradually, slowly, we’ll start to die.” Lode Stone held out his hoof towards the foals, “Look at them, Lyra. I know you’re not from the island so I can’t expect you to see things the same way I do, but I’m sure that deep down inside you there is a sense of honour, or at least a degree of sympathy, for the fate of your brothers and sisters.”

“My brothers and sisters?” Lyra tried to stop herself from rolling her eyes, but it was too late. “Oh, for Celestia’s sake, do you seriously think I’d just waltz out of here as bold as brass and leave you all to snuff it if I could do something about it? Huh! Some opinion you have of me, buddy!” She flopped down onto her haunches. “Bloody hell, it never changes does it? All my life I’ve had ponies looking down their muzzles at me thinking I’m selfish, or a failure, or calling me disgusting names because of who I am and who I like. ‘Layabout’, they called me. ‘Oxygen thief’, ‘Filly fooler’, and worse. Oh yeah, much, much worse.” Lyra shook her head, “Gods, I can’t even get away from that sort of shit on a desert island full of monsters, can I? Nope, straight away you resort to emotional blackmail and veiled threats to get me to do what you want.” She let out a derisive snort, “Gah! I’d be laughing it wasn’t so goddess damned tragic.”

Lode Stone raised an eyebrow, “And are you?”

“Am I what?” Lyra snapped.

“A ‘Filly fooler’?”

Lyra’s eyes glared back at the old stallion, “Bothers you, does it?” She spat on the ground, “Tcha! Who knows? Hell fire, who the bloody hell cares anyway? Gods above, I have a friend, Lode Stone, a friend for Celestia’s sake! And just because we hang around together and live in the same house, ponies judge me and fall over themselves in some desperate race to slap labels on my arse like I’m some kind of damned prize pig for them to parade around the market.” Her tail bristled, “And you know what? I don’t give flying buck about them, or anypony else who thinks like that either. I’m not someponies trophy. It’s my life, and I can damned well like who or what I want! If I want to sleep around then I will. If I want to sleep with a buck, a mare, or a bloody elephant, it has nothing, NOTHING, to do with anypony else. Nopony!”

The stallion waited for her to finish before nodding his sagely old head, “Forgive me. It was rude of me to enquire.”

“You’re damned right it was!” came the sharp retort. However, Lyra wasn’t finished with him yet. “Well then, you’ve pushed all the right buttons now. So come on, out with it! What’s the plan? What bucking madness do you want me to take part in?”

“You’ll help us?” Lode Stone asked, taken aback.

“Oh, knock it off with the amateur dramatics, Lode Stone, you bloody well knew I would,” Lyra replied wearily. “If you thought otherwise you wouldn’t have dragged me here in the first place.”

Lode Stone sighed a long, drawn out sigh that gave the impression of a stallion who had been here before. Too many times before by the looks of it. “You make me sound like a villain,” he uttered quietly.

“Then try putting yourself in my shoes, Lode Stone.” Lyra walked up beside him, watching the youngsters playing, “This whole situation I’ve been flung into has been a nightmare roller coaster of epic proportions that started because some dimwitted teenager decided to stick his muzzle into something that nopony in their right mind would have gone within a country mile of. I should have kept my own stupid muzzle out of it too. If I had then maybe Blue wouldn’t have been captured, that poor sod on the beach would have still been alive, and that...” she jerked a hoof over her shoulder, “whatever that nightmare is in there, would have still been a pony. Goddesses in their bloody heaven, all I want is to go home and take buck breeches with me. If he can tear himself away from his maniacal girlfriend for five minutes that is.” She gave him a hard look, “You’re just the latest happenstance on a long list which was all so painfully avoidable.”

There was a long pause. “I’ve… seen things, Lyra,” Lode Stone began in a heavy tone. “I’ve seen things that nopony would ever believe. I’ve watched storms bring ships from another world. I’ve watched alien craft flying in Equestrian skies. I’ve fought battles, birthed foals, and stood by as ponies I’ve loved died of old age. And yet, throughout it all, I have lived on as though time and age meant nothing to me. Why I am still alive I can’t say, but I still feel pain. I still feel loss, love, and grief. Far too much grief for one soul to bear. Sometimes I feel as though it will carry me into the earth where I will sink like a stone until I’m buried deep within the core of Equestria.” His old eyes turned to hers, “I’ve lived too long, Lyra. But, if I can help these ponies live another day, another week, another year, then I will do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

“Whatever it takes,” Lyra echoed. Lode Stone said nothing. “Well, time for you to spill the beans I suppose,” the green mare continued. “It’ll be light soon and they’ll be expecting me to shovel some sort of shit around like I do every bloody day. If I’m not there then questions will be asked, and somehow I doubt I’d be able to lie my way of that too well.”

“They watch you that closely?”

Lyra shrugged, “I’m the new girl from another world, or as good as. If you were the maester, wouldn’t you?”

Once again, Lode Stone didn’t reply directly. He didn’t need to. The answer was all to obvious. Lyra had noticed the looks she’d received from the other ponies working there, as well as the way her ‘works assigner’, or whatever he was meant to be, always seemed to magically appear when she was trying to skive off for a few minutes peace. Before she left this damned island she’d shove that bloody clipboard of his so far up his arse his tonsils would be signing off on his next order for mop buckets. She looked over her shoulder at Celandine who was staying just out of earshot, but still keeping a close eye on the two.

“She thinks you’re doing this to help Blue, doesn’t she?” Lyra asked quietly.

Lode Stone didn’t look round, “I’ve know Celandine since she was a filly, Lyra. She’s a good girl, if a little abrasive and disrespectful at times, but she was never one for… ‘looking ahead’. She doesn’t see the larger picture, or if she does she chooses to ignore it.”

“Did you think about asking her to help you get the medicine?”

The old stallion thinned his lips. “No,” he said flatly. “She only has eyes for the human.”

“You don’t approve?” Lyra asked curiously.

Lode Stone let out a breath, “What I approve of has nothing to do with it.” A shiver ran down his body, making his haunches quiver noticeably. “Celandine would risk everything to save the human, and if that meant leaving the medicine behind to get him out, then she wouldn’t hesitate.”

Lyra raised an eyebrow, “You don’t like humans, do you?”

The stallion froze suddenly, turning almost mechanically to look her right in the eyes. “No.” He glanced at Celandine and then back to Lyra who looked like she was about to say something, “You would be well advised to remember, Lyra, that humans are not all they appear. And I am not referring to the zeks.”

Lyra felt a little taken aback by that, “Blue seems to be a decent sort,” she countered. “He didn’t hurt me, and he clearly loves Celandine. I know that for a fact.” Gods, how could she forget what she’d seen that time through the open door? It sent a flush through her even just thinking about it.

“Do you now?” Lode Stone snorted. “Well, maybe this ‘Blue’ is one of the better ones, but I would still never trust one no matter how good they may appear on the surface. All too many of us did at first, and it nearly always ended in tragedy. That’s why, when we discovered the maester was turning them into zeks, I for one shed no tears.” His face took on a hardened expression. “Not one.”

“They can’t all have been bad, surely?”

“Enough of them were to make a difference,” Lode Stone replied grimly. “Humans have a strange effect on ponies, Lyra. They…’ get inside your head’ somehow, making you feel as though you need them, and I mean really need them. It’s as if you can’t go on without their approval, their… touch.” He shivered, “Male or female, it makes no difference. All I can say is that there is nothing on this earth that would be able to keep Celandine from the human now. It’s for that reason I will be keeping her here until you can get the medicine. If you can free Blue, then so much the better. If not… what will be will be.”

“It sounds like love to me,” Lyra said quietly. “True love.”

“Pah! ‘Infatuation’ would be a more fitting description.”

“What happened to you, Lode Stone?” Lyra asked. “Did you-?”

“I am not here to discuss my opinions of interspecies relationships!” Lode Stone bit back. “How I feel about…” He growled low in his throat and flexed his hooves. “Please, just… I don’t wish to discuss this topic any longer. There are far more important things to talk about, and time is not our friend.”

Lyra went to look up to where the moon would be – if they were outside of course. “I’m all ears,” she prompted.

And so the plan was set in motion. It wasn’t especially complicated, although it had a degree of risk which Lyra did not like one little bit. She was, as Lode Stone explained, to be taken back by their pegasi to the landing platform. Due to the belief that the pegasi were all under the control of the maester, the platform was only lightly guarded. A distraction would be provided by Lode Stone’s ponies, during which she would be able to slip inside unnoticed. Hopefully. Precisely how had been left down to her. Since the air vent she had been meant to go back through originally had collapsed, together with the half human, half pony creature Thirty Thirty, this was apparently the only safe way to go now. A suggestion had been made for her to attempt passing through the ‘fan room’, but the name alone had her knees trembling. Even the thought of squeezing through ducting again was simply too much for her weary nerves. She’d rather walk right up and knock on the door than face that nightmare again. Assuming she actually got inside then it was simply matter of getting washed, going to bed, and going to work just like she did every day. The ‘operation’, as Lode Stone put it, had been scheduled for the next full moon, which in real terms was six days hence. This would give her time to scout out the medicine storage room, sabotage the lock, and leave the service door open. The pegasi from the cavern would come in at a given signal, and they would do the rest. Lyra was then to dash back to her room and lock the door until it was all over, or, if she preferred, she could go and live with the tribesponies. Lyra had balked at that. What a choice! At least here she had a chance of getting out when they finally worked out how to use the portal. If they ever got it working of course. Hell, considering those crappy options she didn’t know what to think! Once again there was no time to sit down and mull anything over, let alone try and make sense of this madness.

“What do you think?” Lode Stone asked. “Do you think you can do it?”

“I think I need to have a piss,” Lyra replied wearily. “I take it you do have toilets here?”

They did. Of a sort. Wooden planks over a pit which was fed with running water passed as the ‘mares facilities’ in the cavern. Admittedly it wasn’t too unpleasant, albeit draughty, but privacy certainly hadn’t been factored in when it was being designed. It was very open. Mercifully the males had their own latrine separated by a wooden wall, however that didn’t do much to stop the noise filtering through, and what with the excessive farting and… ‘other sounds’ echoing around her, it made her mane twitch like there was no tomorrow. At least there was a basin for hoof washing nearby which was very welcome indeed.

“If you’re looking for soap, you can use mine,” a familiar voice offered.

Lyra looked into the eyes of Celandine, “Thanks. Don’t they have any here?”

“They use some sort of sea creature squeezings,” she shrugged. “If you fancy calling that crap ‘soap’ then be my guest.”

Lyra gave a light huff and gratefully accepted the proffered bar of slightly chemical smelling soap.

“You’re all set then?” Celandine asked.

Lyra nodded, “I am. They’re just sorting out the sky carriage for me.”

“Mmm...” Celandine closed her eyes for a second, apparently trying to arrange her thoughts. “Lyra, did Lode Stone say anything about Blue?”

The green mare paused in her lathering, “Of course he did. He told me where he’d be in the citadel, and said the sky carriage would take him with them when they were loading the medicine.” Lyra began to rinse off the soap, “It’s all pretty straight forward, providing the zeks don’t catch me and turn me into one of those… things. Ha! Now that I think about it, sweeping and mopping the floors doesn’t seem so bad. Risking spending the rest of my life as a monster wasn’t part of the plan.” She shuddered, “I just hope the zeks know that…”

Celandine said nothing. The yellow mare’s normally vibrant appearance seemed muted somehow, and her tail and mane hung limply despite only just having a had a bath. Sorrow was draped over the tragic looking creature like a veritable cloak of distilled misery so intensely it made Lyra take a step back. She’d never seen a pony look so… so lost.

Lyra was about to say something, but Celandine spoke first, “Today was our anniversary you know.” Her voice began to tremble, even though she was trying to maintain her more usual appearance of stony indifference. “Blue and I have been together for… for...” Suddenly she squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, “Lyra, please, I know you don’t know much about me, or Blue, and I know I’m not the easiest of mares to get on with, but… help him. Don’t let them turn him into one of those… those things. Please, I couldn’t take it if that happened. Nopony deserves to end up like that.”

The raw emotion rolling off the yellow mare nearly had Lyra in tears too. She wasn’t good at handling emotions. Generally she ignored them and did her own thing, living in the moment and trying her best to enjoy life. Being here, seeing the pain in another mares eyes, was another matter altogether. It hit a chord she didn’t even know she’d had. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, Celandine.” Lyra moved closer, warily putting a hoof on her shoulder, “I’ll get him out of there. One way or another.”

“Lyra, look...” Celandine swallowed past the tears, “It’s Lode Stone… I don’t know what he told you, but you need to know that he doesn’t care about what happens to Blue. He never did. All he wants is the medicine for his people. It’s the only thing that matters to him, and he’ll do anything to get it. Anything. Whatever you do, don’t forget that.”

“I know,” Lyra replied gently. “But you can’t blame him, Celandine. Without it his people, all these ponies who live here, won’t last long at all.”

The yellow mare shook her head, “You don’t understand!” she began. “Lode Stone-”

“Lyra?” A familiar voice called out. Celandine’s mouth snapped shut as Lode Stone walked in. “Ah, I see you’re ready. The sky carriage is waiting for you.” His eyes fell upon the yellow mare, “Celly, go and help Pippin in the armoury, would you? I think it would be good to keep yourself occupied whilst we await Lyra’s good news.”

“My good news?” Lyra asked.

Lode Stone smiled, “Why, that you were successful of course!” he chirped, nudging Celandine playfully.

“And rescued Blue, right?” Lyra asked encouragingly.

She almost missed the twitch in Lode Stone’s eye as he said, “Naturally. I know that we would all be overjoyed to have our lost human returned to his mare. Yes?”

“Yes...” Celandine mumbled. “Father.”

Lyra’s eyes flitted from Celandine to Lode Stone. From, as it appeared, daughter to father. She wasn’t sure why she was so surprised, after all Celandine had gone straight to the one place she knew she’d find help – her family. That said the old bugger didn’t exactly seem enamoured with the whole ‘Human x Pony’ dynamic which his daughter, by comparison, clearly was. Lyra was about to make further enquiries when Lode Stone reared, clopping his forehooves together.

“The chariot is waiting,” Lode Stone announced as though involving the entire population of the cavern. “Lyra Heartstrings, our guest from Equestria, all of our hopes and wishes go with you. The light of the sun forever guide your way and the moon protect your soul.” He bowed. In answer, the entirety of the ponies around them did likewise, the extraordinary gesture rippling outward with Lyra at its centre.

Okay, now this was unexpected! She’d been here five minutes, and now this! Gods above, this lot were bowing to somepony they didn’t even know! Damn it all, she had to say something. But what? Expectation hung in the air like a fog, and here she was, standing there like a bloody statue. “Um… Thanks?” She cleared her throat after Celandine, watching from further away, waggled a hoof at her. “Er, ponies of the cavern, I, Lyra Heartstrings, will do whatever I can to get your medicine for you.” She nodded to Lode Stone, “And, erm, thanks for the bath too, it was very... nice.” A shiver of embarrassment and she leaped up into the chariot. The pilot was already waiting and an assistant strapped her in. “And so I bid you… Cheerio! Ooof! Bloody hell fire, watch it will you!!!”

The chariot rocketed up into the sky near vertically as Lode Stone watched them go. He could still faintly make out the swearing even now. What a curious creature she was.

“You’re asking a lot of her, Father.”

The old buck slowly turned away. “We are,” he said stiffly. “You were the one who told me she was the catalyst, Celandine. Or is your memory now so poor from living with that creature all these years that you don’t recall?”

The yellow mare narrowed her eyes, “You just never give up, do you? You’re so stuck in your ways that even now, after everything that’s happened, you cling to an age old hatred as though it were-”

“Enough!” Lode Stone snapped. “I will not be lectured to by a slip of a mare, and my own daughter at that!” In that moment the ancient buck’s eyes blazed with an inner light which Celandine hadn’t seen since she was a foal. He was old, true, inconceivably old in fact, but now he was all but glowing with a vibrancy and energy that the others were taking note of. “If she truly is the catalyst then we have no time to waste on foolish frivolities or wishful thinking. The herd is what matters, Celandine. It always was and always shall be.” Lode Stone fixed her with a hard stare, “You of all ponies should know that as surely as the sun rises in the morning and the moon at night.” He tossed his mane, “We cannot risk everypony here because of an individuals wants or desires, especially those which are... warped or perverse.” He towered over her, his demeanour one of strength, confidence, and complete control. “What will be will be, as the gods have foretold.”

The yellow mare’s mane hung limp, her ears drooping as her heart sank in her chest. She knew how her father felt about Blue. He’d always kept it hidden, but it had always been there, hiding just beneath the surface. To hear it now, so clear and unbridled, was heartbreaking. “Is that how you see me, Father?” she asked quietly. “That I’m… warped? Perverse? Do you really hate me so much?”

Lode Stone stood stock still as if made of stone. Any emotion he felt right then had been hidden away beneath his customarily calm exterior. Here was the elder, the stallion who protected and provided for his herd, his tribe. Lode Stone, her father, was gone – all that remained now was the leader. “We have work to do, girl,” the stallion announced, looking down his muzzle at her quaking form. “And I seem to remember telling you to go help in the armoury. Or have you forgotten that too?”

“No, Father.” Quietly, broken in mind if not in body, Celandine slid off into the blue depths of the cavern.

Any thoughts of a pleasant moonlit cruise through a beautiful sea of heavenly stars was extinguished the moment gravity had decided to leave Lyra’s stomach to last. The rest of her was wrenched from the ground from a near standing start to fly nigh on vertically at what she would have deemed impossible speeds. Compared to this, her flight to the club from the dig site was virtually pedestrian. Wind continuously pulled at her mane and tail, dragging tears from her eyes despite them being shut tight. Dear goddess, where were they going? The moon?! Oh no! Maybe they were! She almost opened one eye, felt the sting of the wind, and gave it up as a bad job. Hell, this whole situation was a bad job! Oh, it sounded simple enough, but that sneaky old shit had left a hell a lot of it up to her. She expected it was so he could hold up his hooves and act all innocent if everything went pear shaped. What happened to her, let alone Blue, could then be blamed on anything other than himself. ‘Plausible deniability’, that was the term wasn’t it?

Oh, Celestia… Get me off this crazy thing!

Bile burned at the back of Lyra’s throat, the roar of the wind suddenly changing, the chariot slowing, tipping, and then, horribly… they began to descend as the world did a ninety degree of terrifying rapidity. Down… Down they flew, faster and faster, the chill night air screaming past them with their hellish descent. Lyra tried to dig her hooves into the woodwork but there was nothing to hold on to. The straps were there, but they weren’t properly anchored down. She tried to cry out to the pilot, to tell him she wasn’t secure. No words escaped her mouth. Every breath was torture, every attempt to call out stripped away with the tearing wind, and the pilot… the pilot wasn’t there. The shafts were gone, the empty traces flapping wildly as though trying to break away from their plumet into oblivion. All there was now was the ground, the dark, pitch black mass of the trees enveloping the earth with their countless invisible needles, each and every one of them pointing hungrily up into the heavens. Waiting. Waiting for her. It wouldn’t be long now, and they were hungry, so, so hungry...

“AARGH!”

Her eyes flew open, and immediately she regretted it. An abrupt change from lying to sitting made her head spin at the best of times, and this sure as hell wasn’t one of the better ones. All too predictably the room lurched sickeningly to one side, her stomach aching and churning, threatening an imminent overpowering sense of nausea. Thank Celestia she’d anticipated it. The waste bin may not have been meant for such odorous contents, but at least it wasn’t the rug. She reached it just in the nick of time. Barely a heartbeat later, Lyra’s stomach heaved everything into the makeshift receptacle whilst the rest of her body broke out into a burning heat, causing sweat to erupt from every pore, soaking her fur and making her feel just that little bit more miserable. If such a thing were even possible.

It was.

Another bout of vomiting grabbed at her gut, forcing a coughing, hacking bout of sickness. Something stuck in her teeth making her spit the bitter tasting foul thing into the bin. Damn it all, how had she managed to eat so much?! At last the vomiting turned to dry heaving, and from there the equally foul task of clearing up. The contents were emptied down the toilet, then, mercifully, the wonderfully therapeutic feeling that only a hot shower can bring. Lyra closed her eyes and flopped down onto her haunches, leaning against the tiled wall as the water flowed over her. She opened her mouth, letting some swill around, taking the disgusting taste away. After this she’d give her teeth the brushing of their life, and of course, a nice cup of tea. Gods, a cup of tea! Sweet with sugar and milk: hot, refreshing, and a million times better than the taste of death she was dealing with right now. She’d barely been back a day when the nightmares had begun. It had been the same each time too – falling, or rather plummeting, down from the star lit sky towards the black forest where only death awaited her. And each time she’d awoken in a sweat only to chuck up everything into the bin. Celestia help her, she felt like death too…

Suddenly cleaning the floors seemed like a little slice of heaven.

“Miss Heartstrings?” A voice called from the bedroom. “Are you-”

“I’m in the shower, Avanta,” Lyra called back. “Oh, and feel free to walk in by the way. Gods above...” Couldn’t a girl get any privacy around here? Apparently not, as the door to the bathroom opened to reveal the citadel’s ever present ‘works assigner’ standing there in all his glory. Hell, he even had a clipboard floating in his magic!

“You look sick,” the stallion said matter of factly. He sniffed, his nose wrinkling, “Your room stinks of it. Have you been eating non-approved foodstuffs?”

“Non-approved? Like what?!” Lyra huffed, lifting up her muzzle to let the water wash over her face. “There’s nothing but the food you feed us. Do you think I eat out of the bin or something?”

“You are from another world,” Avanta offered.

Lyra turned to face him, her magic turning off the water as she did so, “Maybe you’ve forgotten, Avanta, but I’m from the same bloody world you’re from.” She held up a hoof, sweeping it round, “This, this idyllic little island and everything and every pony on it, monsters included, is Equestria.”

“The same planet perhaps,” came the stoic response, “but Equestria this is most certainly not.”

Lyra rolled her eyes, “Ugh!, you’re another one who thinks Equestria is a myth, are you?”

“Hardly,” Avanta replied stiffly. “However it may as well be for all the difference it makes to our situation, Miss Heartstrings.” He raised a questioning eyebrow, “You may have noticed a lack of shipping since your arrival?”

The green mare shrugged, “Not that I get to go out much, but no. Other than the humans’ ships on the beach I haven’t seen any at all.” Lyra took a towel off the rack and began to dry herself off. “That doesn’t mean there aren’t any ships out there, Avanta. We’re probably just off the major shipping lanes or the island is uncharted or something.” She frowned, dabbing at a particularly reluctant drop of water that had gotten inside her ear, “There could be any number of reasons. Hell, there may even be an invisibility shield over the island for all I know.”

A twitch in the stallion’s eye caught Lyra’s attention. He gave a slight shudder as he cleared his throat, “Have you ever paid attention to the heavens, Miss Heartstrings?”

“Huh?”

“Astronomy,” Avanta explained hopefully. “The study of the various constellations and where they are at various times of the year, for example.”

Lyra frowned in thought, “I know a few of the major ones, but not that many. Why?”

“Because if you had you may have noticed something about where we are in relation to the Equestrian mainland.” He took a breath and closed his eyes, “We, Miss Heartstrings, are on the other side of the planet.” Lyra’s eyes went wide as he confirmed what she’d already suspected, but Avanta hadn’t finished with her just yet. “Now then,” he said lifting up his clipboard, “since you look a lot better I’ll mark you off as fit for work. Unless you feel you’re incapable of doing so?”

“Like I have a choice?” Lyra muttered, hanging the towel up.

“Of course you have a choice,” Avanta said with his usual lack of emotion. “Would you like me to tell the maester you are refusing to work today?”

For a moment Lyra stared deep into his eyes, trying to work out the inner machinations of this pony’s mind. Unfortunately all she saw in those emotionless orbs was a stallion devoted to his work, and quite literally nothing else. He, like so many here, gave you the impression that they’d all had their emotions sucked out of them at birth. Hell, maybe they had too.

“No, I’ll manage,” Lyra said eventually.

“Good,” Avanta replied. He ticked a box on his clipboard, “I shall inform the science department that you’ll be in as soon as you’ve had breakfast.”

“You’re all heart.”

The corner of Avanta’s mouth curled up in what may have been his attempt at a smile. Whatever it was however, left along with him as the stallion headed off to badger some other poor soul. The door closed behind with a satisfying ‘click’.

There was only one thing left to say. “Miserable twat,” Lyra muttered staring at door. Her gaze was drawn to the tray on the cupboard beside it which held a bowl of porridge, a mug of hot sweet tea, and a steaming face cloth in a bowl of lemon scented water. Odd. Had Avanta brought this in with him? Normally breakfast was light, fruit based, and came with a fruit juice. All of your ‘five a day’ in one sitting. Very nice all things considered. This time it was just what she needed too. The porridge would help settle her stomach, the tea warming her up and taking the taste of bile away, and the cloth? Now that she’d had a shower it wasn’t that essential, but a few minutes ago it would have been like a blessing from up on high. How the hell had they known? She shrugged it off and devoured her breakfast. There were more important things to worry her than mysterious breakfasts. Like, for example, the fact that the full moon was only two nights away and she still didn’t know where the medicine was kept, let alone where Blue was being held. Hell, he could already be a zek for all she knew. Gods, what a thought! She didn’t know him that well, but to leave him like that, to such an awful fate, wasn’t worth contemplating. She would help him, for his sake, for Celandine’s sake, and also because she’d love to see the expression on that old turd Lode Stone’s face. The miserable old bigot…

One breakfast later she was trotting down to the laboratory, and the now everyday scene of ponies working on strange machines doing even stranger things. To Lyra they meant little. To them she meant just as much. In truth she may as well have been invisible for all the difference her presence made amongst that seemingly random assemblage of wires, lights, and the ever present electronic sounds. Even Hesta and company, interested in her as they had been when she’d first arrived, now flowed around her as though she were merely another part of the equipment. Come to think of it, they’dstarted work quite early today. Normally she had a chance to clean up before-

“You’re late.”

“Hmm?” Lyra looked up into the familiar eyes of the only other pony who made any kind of sense in this mad house. “Good morning, Parchment, nice to see you too.” Mind you, to say Parchment made sense was like trying to detect cohesive patterns in a bowl of spaghetti. It was, she’d have to admit, better than nothing.

The stallion raised an eyebrow, “Avanta went looking for you. I presume he found you then?”

He had his eye on the ball! Was he spying on her? “Whatever gave it away?” Lyra replied wearily. She squeezed out her mop, “Is this a social call or would you like me to book you an appointment? I’m sure there’s plenty of essential cleaning to be done that I haven’t gotten around to yet.”

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,” Parchment intoned.

Lyra rolled her eyes, “Well it’s the best you’re going to get, so make the most of it.” She took a breath and turned to face him, “Look, Parchment, I feel like shit right now, so just tell me what you want, okay?”

The young stallion met her eyes momentarily, those oddly emotionless orbs of his as impenetrable as a bulkhead door. Eventually he asked, “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Tell you?” Lyra paused, “Like what? We’re low on lemon chunks for the toilets if that’s what you’re-”

“I mean...” He glanced over his shoulder before carefully leading her away out of earshot, “I mean, I know you went out the other night.”

Lyra felt her heart skip a beat, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Parchment groaned and facehoofed, “Right, that old line.” He cleared his throat and stood up straight, adopting the kind of posture a parent takes when addressing an incalcitrant foal. “Let’s assume for a moment that I know you went out, yes? Let’s also assume that I know where you went, with whom, and why.” He paused, waiting for her to answer.

Lyra shrugged, “That’s a lot of assumptions.” She waved it off dismissively, “You should know what they say about assumptions, Parchment.” Her eyes narrowed, “Rather like somepony trusting another that what they were telling them was the truth, as opposed to, say, lying through their bucking backside to get their own way.” “Merely by way of an assumption, of course,” she added cynically.

“And who would that untrustworthy somepony be?” Parchment asked levelly.

The green mare huffed indignantly at his harsh expression, “Oh, I don’t know, why don’t you tell me big boy?” She let out an angry snort, “No, wait, since we’re working in the world of hypotheticals, why don’t we assume that there were these two ponies, one on either side of a door. One was scared shitless with monsters running amok and trying to kill the ones who’d helped her, whilst the other was trying to get her to follow him to a lovely, voluntary of course, life of eternal servitude in a rusty metal coffin.” She frowned in thought, “You know, I’m sure there was some mention of the princess sending criminals here, or something like that? Say, Parchment, have you heard that story? It’s very believable I must say. Really hits the right notes to tug at the ‘ol heartstrings. Ironic, wouldn’t you say?”

“You’re being facetious.”

“And you’re a lying toad who’s in bed with the boss.” Lyra’s mouth curled up in the corner, baring her teeth, “You must think I’m a right bucking idiot. Gods above, you’re young enough to be my kid and you talk to me like I’m some senile old crone! And speaking of which, you kinda like ‘em a touch crusty around the edges, don’t you, Parchment? Aiming high right from the off weren’t you? I can’t say I blame you though; a young stud like you, knocking off the old bat at the helm of this beached pile of crumbling scrap. Came with a few perks, didn’t it.”

“Stop it.”

“And I bet she’s really game for it too.” Lyra barked out a laugh, “Oh sure, she looks, what, in her mid thirties, maybe forties? Amazing what a touch of lipstick powder and paint can do. Celestia ram me sideways, you’d be old enough to be her grand kid, let alone a coltfriend!”

“Lyra, I said shut up.”

“I wonder if it’s a spell she uses,” Lyra continued. “You know, one of those long lasting illusion spells to cover up all the wrinkles and sagging tits. At her age it’s only natural to want to cover it all up, you know, keep the facade of youth trundling along a few years longer? You can’t blame her really. Still, buck me, Parchment, she must have more miles on the clock than a bloody weather balloon! I’ll bet she thought her days in the sack were over donkeys years ago too, but then along comes a fresh young ride from Equestria and it’s ‘Hellooo Dolly!’ Hell, with all these ‘prisoners’ at her beck and call she’ll have had more cock than a griffin chicken vendor before you got stuck in balls de-”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

“...going at it like steam hammers, over and over and over-”

Rough hooves grabbed Lyra by the shoulder and slammed her bodily up against the wall with a sound clang of metal. Sparks burst in Lyra’s vision, and yet despite having the wind driven from her lungs, the green mares’ smile never wavered. By comparison, Parchment’s face was a mask of utter fury.

“I said to shut your filthy mouth! You miserable, ignorant...” His words trailed off awkwardly. For a moment Lyra thought he was going to hit her. She certainly couldn’t have blamed him if he had after what she’d said, but then… would it have been worth it? She had her answer a moment later as Parchment’s shoulders sagged, his eyes suddenly returning to their normal placid gaze. “Why are you doing this?” His voice was ragged, and bore a surprisingly weighted tone for one so young. “Is this a game to you, Miss Heartstrings?” he asked.

Lyra would have shrugged if he didn’t still have a hold of her shoulders. “If it’s a game,” she said quietly, “then I’m not the one playing it.”

Parchment abruptly shoved her again. “Stop being so flippant!” he snapped angrily. “How the hell can you be so dismissive about everything when we’re up to our fetlocks in shit!”

Wow! So this was the other side of Parchment, was it? The cold, calm and serene young stallion did have some fire in him after all. Lyra closed her eyes and gave a mirthless chuckle. “Funny, I thought the same about you up until now.” She peered at his hooves pressing into her green fur, “You know, I don’t mind being up shoved against a wall in certain circumstances, Parchment, but…” She raised an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“Oh.” The stallion flushed a little, “Hmm.” He stood back, letting her drop back down to all four hooves.

Lyra brushed her coat lightly while peering at the curious young lad, “Time for some honesty between us, don’t you think?” Parchment didn’t reply. Instead he simply nodded once. “Do you want to start?” Lyra asked. “Not that I don’t trust you, Parchment, but… hell, who am I kidding? No, I don’t trust you. Whether you like it or not you’re way too close to the one in charge here for me to assume that what you’re telling me isn’t just coming straight from her.” At Parchment’s imminent protest she held up a hoof, “I can see why you did what you did though. Huh, I probably would have done it myself. Let’s face it, neither of us belong here, kiddo, and the sooner we get back to Equestria then the better I’ll feel.” She took a deep breath, “So, cards on the table, if you want me to trust you, you’ll have to convince me of your intentions first. I’ve had quite enough surprises since I got here, and just for once I’d appreciate a little truth with my morning coffee.”

Parchment nodded, and then, carefully, began to lead her away down a corridor, “We’ll go outside where we can talk freely.”

“We can’t in here?” Lyra asked, noting the empty corridor.

The brown stallion shook his head, and a few minutes later lead her out of a steel side door into the well kept gardens of the citadel. Above them the sun was just peeking over the high walls, sending long shadows across the flower beds. As always at this time of morning the residents of the citadel were either at work or on their way to work, but that didn’t mean they were completely alone. Lyra gazed up at the beautiful bird of paradise staring back at her, half wondering how the brightly coloured creature hadn’t ended up being eaten along with most of the other animals on the island. Gods, how she envied it! Those wings, so bright with the colours of the rainbow, lending the unusual bird the ability to come and go as it pleased. Of course nopony had said Lyra was a prisoner, but then where would she go even if she did leave the walled enclosure? Death awaited the foolhardy and wary alike, lurking behind every tree and bush. If it wasn’t chocks then you’d likely starve unless you knew how to forage for food in such a hostile environment. And then, lastly, was the greatest barrier of all – the twinkling blue expanse of the sea. Even if you could get away, grab a boat or somehow have a pegasus chariot take you up and into the heavens, where would you go? There were no islands as far as the eye could see. There were no radio signals or-

“Lyra?”

“Huh?” Lyra gave herself a shake and looked back at the concerned expression on Parchment’s face. “Right, well then,” she said composing herself, “guess this is as good a place as any, huh?” Parchment nodded. “So,” offered, “what do you want to say?”

The purple stallion sighed, and then, without even the attendant whistle, the metaphorical bomb dropped. “You’re working with the Hidden.”

Lyra’s heart skipped a beat. “The… The who?” she blathered.

“The ponies who live in the caves,” Parchment explained unnecessarily. “You know who I’m talking about. I also know you’re associated with the creature known as Thirty Thirty?”

“The thing that grabbed me and dragged me into the vents?” Lyra felt a shiver run down her spine, “Bit of stretch calling it ‘associated’. He’s hardly somepony anypony in their right mind would want to work with.”

“No…” Parchment drew a breath, “But you did none the less.”

Lyra closed her eyes and tried her best to stop her stomach emptying itself for the umpteenth time that morning. “Look, Parchment,” she began, “I don’t know what you’re angle is here, but this isn’t what you’re… I mean, it’s… it’s all bullshit, right? Celestia’s mercy, this whole situation is bucked up from muzzle to dock. I don’t know anything about the politics of the island and who’s doing what to whom, let alone why. Hell, I’m just a bloody cleaner here!” Those impassive eyes of Parchment’s stared back at her as if he were disassembling every word, comparing it with some mental filing system and placing it into the tray marked ‘lies’. “For Luna’s sake, say something will you?” Part of her was half expecting the enormous meaty hand of a zek to appear at any moment, dragging her off to some horrifying fate. By comparison to what they’d done to that poor pegasus, death would be a mercy.

Unaware of Lyra’s mounting panic, Parchment bore an expression that made a log seem animated. His nostrils flared and he looked for all the world like a lost foal as his brows furrowed in concentration. Lyra could almost hear him thinking, those imperceptible cogs turning, placing the words into the right order ready to deliver a sentence that would send her to some unknown, and no doubt horrible, end. She had no doubt which side his bread was buttered on of course. Unfortunately all she could wonder now was how and when the hammer would fall. Would she have time to get away before he called his mistress and spilled the beans? Maybe she was on her way here now! What if-

“They’re planning something, something big,” Parchment said in a near whisper. “I need to know what they’ve told you.”

Lyra blinked in surprise, “I don’t-”

“I know you met with them, Lyra!” Parchment snapped suddenly. He took a deep breath, fixing her with a hard stare, “The guards found Thirty Thirty.”

“What, he’s still alive?” Lyra asked incredulously. “I thought he-”

“Was dead?” Parchment nodded, noting the way Lyra shuddered. “No. He’s alive, for now anyway.” His ears drooped as he added, “They’re trying to make him talk, but he’s stubborn alright. Barely said a word despite… despite what they...”

“You mean they’re torturing him?” Lyra swallowed, feeling her bladder threatening to empty itself. Gods above, was there any depravity they wouldn’t sink to here? She had to try and reason with the lad before he did something she’d regret. “Parchment,” she began, “you can’t let them hurt him. He didn’t do anything!”

“He took you out of the citadel, didn’t he?” Parchment’s eyes gleamed in the gathering sunlight. “They found hoofprints in the air vent, Lyra. They did a head count and found you missing.”

“That doesn’t mean I met with… whatever you called them.”

“The Hidden?” Parchment turned away, staring into the shadows. “Damn it all, Lyra, do you think they’re stupid?! They have pegasi here whose job it is to patrol the island, remember? Do you seriously believe they knock off work at tea time?!” He gave his mane a shake. “One of them the saw ropes hanging down from an open vent cover, with numerous sets of hoof prints, yours included, heading off into the forest. The next morning there you are, back in bed freshly showered and with forest mud leading right to your bloody cabin door!”

“Ah...” Lyra slumped to her hind legs. “Oh. Shit...”

“Yeah, it’s ‘shit’ alright,” Parchment hissed, “and you’re up to your hocks in it too, you gullible idiot.”

“Gullible!!!” Lyra’s anger flared, “You’re one to talk! You-”

“-are the one covering for you,” Parchment cut in roughly. “They were all for locking you up, or worse. I told them that you’d been kidnapped and had escaped, and that you were too stupid to get caught up in anything the Hidden have cooked up. I told them I’d find out what you’d been up to and get to the bottom of things. After that...” He closed his eyes and shook his head, “After that… it’s up to you.”

Lyra had heard of your life flashing before your eyes just as you were about to kick the proverbial. The way her heart was thundering right then she felt as though she were about to have a heart attack and experience it first hoof. It was not pleasant. Still, being truthful with Parchment may actually get her out a hole, if she were to box clever about it. “They were waiting for me,” she said quietly. Parchment closed his eyes and nodded slowly. “They live in the caves, you’re right about that. As for ‘planning something big’, I don’t know anything about that. But Parch’, look….” Lyra felt a shiver run through as she gathered herself, hoping she could reach him, praying she could by some miracle get through that thick insensitive hide of his. “They’re dying out there,” she explained, looking into his eyes. “They’re ponies for the goddess’s sake, just the same as you, me, and every other pony in Equestria. They don’t care if you’re an earth pony, a pegasus or a unicorn. They’re almost out of medicine. If they don’t get some soon then they’ll all be dead within a few weeks, maybe a month or two at most.”

She was about to add more when Parchment asked, “They asked you to get some for them, didn’t they?”

Lyra’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly. There was something about Parchment’s expression that spoke far louder than any mere words. It wasn’t just his eyes, it was the way he didn’t move so much as a muscle when she had explained the plight of the cave ponies. And then it hit her - he already knew. Moreover, he’d known all along too. Suddenly his eyes hardened once again, derailing the imminent boiling over of indignation and outrage Lyra felt surging up from deep inside. “It’s a trap,” the purple stallion said plainly as he took a step back. “They’re expecting an infiltration of some kind, but they weren’t sure what form it would take until they caught Thirty.” “Now,” he intoned heavily, “their eyes are on you.”

“They...” Lyra swallowed, “You mean the Maester?” Parchment merely nodded. “Damn it, Parchment, you know what they’ll do to me! Have you seen what they did to that kid who tried to capture me on the beach? They turned him into-”

“I know what they did to him,” Parchment said, interrupting her. “I saw it, Lyra, with my own two eyes.”

“Y- You saw it?” She couldn’t believe it!

Parchment looked away, “She made me watch.” He closed his eyes and swallowed, “She made sure I saw everything. Every last, drawn out second of it.”

Lyra’s hoof flew to her mouth, “Oh, dear Celestia…”

“Ha,” Parchment barked mirthlessly, “Not much sign of her out here. Celestia may as well be on the bucking moon for all the good it does us.”

Lyra felt a twitch in her mane than made her spine tingle. “Oh, gods, Parchment, we’ve got to get out of here!” she gasped. “She’d a bloody psychopath!”

The purple stallion span round, his teeth bared, “Don’t you think I know that?!” He bobbed his head angrily, one hoof digging furiously into the ground, “When you arrived here you probably didn’t notice the effect the portal has on time, did you?”

Lyra gave a bob of her head, “Not at first, but one of the ponies I met said you’d been here a while before I arrived. I didn’t pay it much mind at first.”

“No, well you wouldn’t, would you?” Parchment tossed his mane, his body language making Lyra back away from him. She’d wanted the purple stallion to be animated, but this was going way beyond that. Parchment looked like he was going to explode. “It may have felt like hours for you,” he said with a loud snort, “but for me I’d been here for the goddess knows how months before you arrived. I had no food, no supplies, no nothing! How the hell the chocks didn’t find me and eat me I don’t know and I don’t want to know. And so I survived the best I could; I stole what I could from the village, hiding amongst the roots of a tree to take shelter from the rain and prayed somepony would come looking for me.”

“Didn’t you try to contact the villagers?” Lyra asked.

“Gods, have you been there?!” Parchment huffed when Lyra shook her head, “They’re little more than a bunch of tribals, lead by a matriarch who has the power of life and death over every pony there. I heard a few of them talking about ponies who ‘disappeared’ when they’d outlived their usefulness or had served the village elder the wrong temperature tea, or some such madness.” He laughed bitterly, “I didn’t need to hear any more after that!”

“And you survived by filching whatever food you could,” Lyra murmured.

Parchment nodded, “When the seekers eventually picked me up I was half starved, and so dehydrated I was wandering around the beach in a delirium. Goddess forgive me, I all but threw myself at them out of sheer relief. After that the maester decided to keep me as her ‘personal aide’.” At Lyra’s wince, Parchment snorted, “What, did you think I put myself at her beck and call because I wanted to? Use your brain, mare. I did what I had to do to survive, nothing more. If she wants to use me as a bedroom toy then it’s a small price to pay to be alive.”

Lyra’s head hung down as she tried to come to terms with the nightmare Parchment had been through before she got there. And there she was, treating him like he was some irritating teenager who had been the cause of all her woes. Well, he was the cause of it all, but even so the kid hadn’t deserved this. Still, if she enlisted his aid then maybe there was a chance she could get through this in one piece. “Parch’, have you heard about a guy called Blue?”

“The human?” Parchment shrugged, “He’s being held for processing. They’ll dispose of him soon enough.”

The lack of emotion in his voice made Lyra hesitate. “When you say ‘dispose of him’,” she said watching his reaction, “you mean they’ll kill him, right?”

“Or turn him into a zek,” Parchment said in his usual matter of fact manner. “It’s what they do to the humans who come here.”

The way Parchment said that sounded as if he were explaining that water fell from the sky during a downpour. He made it all seem so simple, so… normal. As though mutating an intelligent being into one of those dumb monsters was what was expected here, simply because they were humans. “Dear Celestia, you don’t think that’s wrong?” Lyra shook her head in horrified incredulity, “I’m sorry, Parchment, but you don’t seem bothered in the slightest! Doesn’t it strike you as wrong that any sentient being would do that to another?”

“Not especially,” came the monotone reply. “They’re humans, Lyra. We’re ponies. Humans enslave equines on their world and bend them to their will, killing them when they’re no longer economically viable to keep. I expect Blue omitted to fill you in on that sordid little detail didn’t he?” When Lyra didn’t respond he continued, “And if you wish to talk about morality, when they arrived on the island these supposedly ‘intelligent beings’ acted as though they were the only intelligent creatures here, and despite some early pleasantries the humans took it upon themselves to start-”

“I know what they started to do,” Lyra cut in testily. “Raping and killing the islanders for food, wasn’t it?” The words were out of her mouth before the gravity of what she was saying could tie her tongue up in knots. Even now it didn’t seem possible that intelligent creatures like Blue, creatures who could design and build such incredible wonders as she had seen on the beach and in the magazine, were capable of such… such unimaginable evil.

“So if you know all that, then why would you care what happened to this ‘Blue’ creature?” Parchment asked impatiently.

He had a point. Nothing Blue, nor even anything the elder had said, could be disputed. Not without a full and unbiased assessment of the facts from both sides. But then, there was only one side now wasn’t there. There was only one human left, not counting the monstrosities the ‘Maester’ had turned so many of them into. Gods only knew what those things were, or what, if anything, went through their minds. She wasn’t even convinced they had one, other than something that allowed them to process the commands of their masters. What had happened to the human inside those things, to the ‘self’ that made them what they were up until they had been mutilated beyond belief, was a terrifying thought in and of itself. Had all the humans been like that? No. No of course not, they couldn’t have been. The exception didn’t prove the rule. Or did it? Maybe not, but it had made the rule. And now Blue had been dragged into that age old conflict as though it were still being waged.

“I care because Blue isn’t the monster you seem to think he is,” Lyra said defiantly. “He helped me, Parchment. He gave me shelter and showed me a taste of what the human truly world is.”

“The human world as he wants you to see it.” Parchment shook his head as though weary of explaining something so obvious, “You’re letting your personal desire to discover more about human civilisation get in the way of accepting the facts of what they ‘truly’ are. There’s a reason there are none in Equestria, Lyra.” Parchment held up a hoof, “There’s a reason why the maester does what she does when she finds them.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure she has a really good reason for transforming innocent, intelligent creatures into monsters, enslaving them forever in that hideous form!” Lyra’s eyes blazed.

“They were monsters to begin with,” Parchment retorted.

“Bullshit!” Lyra snapped. “You can’t keep using an incident that happened only the goddess knows how long ago as an excuse for what that lunatic’s doing now.” Her eyes narrowed, “That not just cruel, Parchment, it’s evil. Evil on a level even Nightmare Moon wouldn’t have sunk to.”

Parchment let out a laugh, “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” the green mare snapped. “The Legion didn’t mutilate their prisoners.”

“No, they just killed them or fed them to dragons!” the purple stallion exclaimed.

“They gave them the chance to join her army,” Lyra quickly retorted.

“Some choice!” Parchment hissed back at her. “Join or become lunch!”

“And just what choice did your buck-buddy give the humans, eh?” Lyra’s ire was up now. “She didn’t just stop at killing them, Parchment, and when you look at what that in-equine animal did to them it would have been a kindness if she had.”

“Kindness...” Parchment’s lips curled up in a sneer, “It was more than they showed us.”

“Us?” Lyra blinked. “You were there when all of this went on, were you?” Parchment didn’t reply. “Yeah, yeah I thought so,” Lyra nodded, staring into the young stallions eyes. “You’ve got all your information from the same source, haven’t you?” She clopped her hooves together, making him flinch, “Ha! Rule number one of archaeology - ‘never fully trust first-hoof accounts’. Well done there Parchment, you threw that one right out the bloody window!”

The young stallion looked abashed, but managed, “She was there, Lyra.”

“And you weren’t!” The green mare let out a sigh as she took in Parchment’s helpless expression. It was like clubbing a puppy. “Look, Parchment,” she continued a little more gently, “let’s just say that what the maester told you was right, yeah? That all the humans really were raping, murdering, killers. Does that mean she’s justified in killing Blue?”

Slowly, painfully slowly, Parchment took a breath and gave probably his most honest reply to date, “Truthfully, I don’t know.” He shrugged, “The way I look at it is that the ponies here know a lot more than I do about their past. Both of us are strangers here, Lyra, and the lives we’ve had in Equestria are worlds apart from this one.” He glanced away from her, an expression of unimaginable sadness ghosting across his features. “They don’t share the same morality we have back home.”

“Nope, they sure don’t, big guy,” Lyra huffed with a shrug of her shoulders. “These buckers don’t give a flying fig if you drop dead on the job or snuff it cleaning out the bed pans. They’d just go and grab a replacement from the village. Foal snatching? Hell, why not! Gods, this place is more like a factory farm than a… whatever the hell it’s supposed to be.” She paused, looking over her shoulder. “You know, I still don’t really understand what they’re planning on doing here.”

“You don’t?” Parchment asked in surprise. “It’s hardly a secret. They’re trying to get the portal working so they can escape the island of course.” He let out a short sigh, “I thought you’d have known that by now.”

Lyra clucked her tongue, “I do know that,” she retorted testily. “Or more specifically I know that’s what I’ve been ‘told’ they’re planning on doing with it.”

Parchment frowned, particularly at the way Lyra waggled her forehooves to indicate air quotes, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying that if there was some way off the island they would have found it by now.” Lyra rubbed her chin in thought as she continued, “Think about it; Galeus comes through the portal, the portal she built, and does what? Are you telling me she couldn’t simply build a new one and walk right off this island? She’d have had all the time in the world to do it. If she’d wanted to that is.”

“There could have been any number of reasons,” Parchment pondered, flicking his mane out of his eyes. “At the time she was running for her life don’t forget. I doubt she had time to take a whole labs worth of equipment with her.”

As true as that may be, Lyra doubted that any pony as intelligent as Galeus undoubtedly was wouldn’t have had some kind of contingency plan in place, particularly as public opinion began to swing against her more ‘imaginative’ experiments. But Parchment was right. In truth, who could really say for sure what had been going through that mares warped, if undeniably brilliant, mind as her world began to crumble around her. Had she not seen the end coming? Or had she merely blanked it out and pretended everything was just find and dandy, right up until they put the ram to her tower’s door. It wasn’t out of the bounds of believability. In Lyra’s experience brilliance often came with a corresponding lack of common sense. She could still remember her tutor at the college who had written over twenty books and countless papers on ancient civilisations and magics. The guy was, by all accounts, a certifiable genius. And yet somehow the poor bugger couldn’t even manage to knot his own tie without help, let alone cook himself a meal. The students often joked he’d have starved to death with a full cupboard if it hadn’t been for his housekeeper. Galeus on the other hoof was a little more ‘rounded’, if contemporary accounts were anything to go by. That said she certainly had no concept of right and wrong as Lyra knew it. After all, only somepony completely insensitive to the feelings of others would send living creatures through a completely untested magical gateway to only the gods knew where. She was most definitely not the kind of mare you’d bring home to introduce to your parents.

Lyra cleared her throat, ignoring the hint of sarcasm hidden within Parchment’s last remark. “Lab equipment or no, Galeus would still have had her own magic to fall back on when she got here. A mare with her intelligence wouldn’t have had that much trouble getting things in order on the island. Hell, the evidence of that is all around us. Then there was all that electrical technology stuff the humans brought with them, right?” she pointed out.

“We don’t know when the humans came though!” Parchment huffed. “Galeus could have been here hundreds of years before the first humans arrived, let alone the fact that we don’t know anything about the compatibility of their technology and ours, nor how progressed the humans were when Galeus first step hoof on the island. One of the ships down on the beach looks like it came here before they’d invented steam power!” He shook his head, “No, Lyra, I can’t see it. I know where you’re coming from, but there are too many variables. I think we’ll just have to admit that the short answer is that we simply don’t know. What I do know, is that the maester is determined to get herself and all the ponies on the island out of here.”

“Okay,” Lyra said simply. “But to where?”

“To…” Parchment blinked, staring ahead of himself as if his mind had jumped the tracks. He shrugged, “Hell, I don’t know, but anywhere is better than this.” He raised his hoof, taking in the world around them. “I’d be happy with anywhere in Equestria, but I’d settle for Llamalia or the Griffin Kingdom, maybe even some other part of the planet we’ve not explored yet. Equestria isn’t the be all and end all, Lyra. With a master portal the possibilities are endless.”

“I’m sure they are,” Lyra replied, remembering how it was this budding adventurer’s decision to embark on a ‘journey into the unknown’ that had landed them both in this nightmare in the first place. That little fact appeared to have been completely lost on him. “At the risk of sounding like a broken record - why not concentrate on a one-way portal back to Equestria?” she asked openly. “Surely that would have been more achievable than going to all the effort of building a master portal?”

Parchment shrugged, “Who knows? All I can say is that the maester has never given me any reason to doubt her sincerity, especially when it comes to getting out of here. I may not approve of her methods in achieving that goal, but like I said, neither of us have any idea what life is really like here, now or in the past. Maybe you should remember the old proverb about walking a mile in another ponies shoes before you start criticising how they do things.”

Lyra nodded reluctantly. She had to concede that point at least, even if it did sound like a child lecturing an adult. Trying to view the past, to apply her own current understanding of the world and its politics and morality to another time, to what was in essence an entirely different world she knew so little about, was not only unrealistic, it was arrogant. Who was to say she was right? The ponies of the citadel certainly believed they were right. But to deny medicine to the needy, to torture, mutilate and kill those who didn’t agree with you – how could that ever be considered right? Evil was evil, regardless of what civilisation, or time, it resided in. She took a breath, trying to make sense of it all, “Parchment, I understand that, but-”

“Miss Heartstrings?” The voice rang out across the lawn, echoing strangely in the still air.

“Shit,” Parchment hissed. “It’s Avanta,”

Lyra rolled her eyes, “Probably wondering why I haven’t shoved a brush up my arse whilst mopping the bucking latrine, the miserable git.”

Parchment shook his head, grabbing her suddenly by the shoulders. His eyes bored into her own, his voice steady, clear, and surprisingly forceful. “Listen, play along,” he hissed. “As for what we spoke about, say nothing. And Lyra, don’t go anywhere near the store for the medicine.”

“But-”

“Do it and you’ll end up like that pegasus kid. Do you understand me?”

Lyra balked, “I… I think-”

“Do you understand?!”

“Y- Yes!” Lyra squeaked.

Parchment took a breath and closed his eyes, “Good. Keep it that way. I’ll be-”

The all too familiar image of the habitually clipboard carrying Avanta appeared through the doorway, casually looking around himself with his customary air of self assured importance. That was until he spotted Parchment who still had his hooves on Lyra’s shoulders.

“And I intend to speak to you about this again, Miss Heartstrings. Yes?” Parchment said, looming over Lyra.

The green mare lowered her head, swallowing, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Mister Parchment!”

With that the purple stallion released her and took a step back, nodding to himself with apparent satisfaction, “Good. Now, I believe you have work to do?”

Lyra bobbed her head and turned to face Avanta.

“I’m sorry, am I intruding?” the newcomer asked.

Parchment shook his head, nodding to Lyra, “Are you waiting for something?” At her questioning glance he stomped a hoof, “Get moving, girl!”

Lyra hurried to the door, turning quickly into the corridor but slowing down just enough to hear the last of the conversation drifting through the opening behind her.

“Discipling the staff is my job, Mister Parchment,” Avanta’s voice announced in his typically officious manner.

Parchment, somewhat unsurprisingly, sounded as if he were of the exact same school of thought. “As ensuring the will of the maester is acted upon in accordance with her wishes is mine, Avanta,” he said coolly. “I can assure you I would not presume upon your role, as similarly I would not expect you to upon mine. Naturally if this arrangement is unsatisfactory for you, I would be pleased to pass on your concerns to-”

“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” came the hasty reply. Avanta huffed loudly, “Everything seems to be in order here.” Lyra had a mental impression of a box being ticked on that accursed clip board.

Parchment sniffed, “Indeed.”

A pause. “I take it Miss Heartstrings has been-”

“The matter has been attended to, Avanta,” Parchment said pointedly. “Should you be required to make any further enquiries into the matter I will be sure to inform you.”

“Very well,” came the somewhat dry reply. “If you’ll excuse me...”

‘Further enquiries into the matter’? Lyra frowned in thought, but in all probability it was related to that business with the cave dwelling ponies. Damn that Lode Stone! If it wasn’t for that sneaky old goat and his crony Thirty, she’d be… she’d be what? Mopping her days away, whiling the hours with brush and duster as the ponies out there slowly died through lack of medicine? Could she in all decency live with that thought? No… No, of course not. And Lode Stone had damned well known that too. The problem was, was that the citadel ponies knew not only knew where she’d been, but what they had planned too – broadly speaking. At least, that was the impression she had from speaking with Parchment. As much as it made her heart race, Parchment had assured her he’d cover for her, and that alone gave Lyra hope. Not that it meant all that much in real terms. That rat Avanta had her in his sights alright. The way he always managed to turn up just at the right moment was evidence enough of that! But what of Parchment? What if he turned on her? He may seem to be an ally now, but he was muzzle deep in the maesters nether regions. If she pushed him for information, if he wasn’t convincing… Oh, Celestia, she had to get out of here! But how? That was the problem, wasn’t it. There was no bloody way out, except via that stupid portal. If these weirdos hadn’t been able to work out how to get the damned thing fired up even after centuries of graft, then there was no way in hell some singer-cum-archaeologist was going to pull that metaphorical rabbit out of their rear end. It was, in truth, a huge pile of bollocks. Absolute, utter, and complete bollocks.

Lyra jumped in fright as Avanta marched past her as if she were of no more interest than any other piece of inanimate furniture. The fact she had a brush in her hooves and was sweeping as she’d been lost in her own thoughts was probably the only thing that had prevented the work assignment stallion from making a checkmark against her name. Doubtless the accompanying comments would hardly put her in a favourable light. She’d barely had time to look up and he was disappearing around a corner back to whatever cold and gloomy part of the citadel from whence he came. Lyra did not like Avanta. The feeling, she suspected, was entirely mutual too. Half expecting Parchment to put in another appearance, she waited, carefully working at a corner of old carpet that she’d already swept more times than she cared to remember. But of the purple stallion there was no sign. Further surreptitious brush-lead investigations revealed the door they’d used to access the garden area closed and bolted. Whatever else Parchment had been going to tell her would have to wait for another day. Whatever it was she doubted she’d like it either. It was hardly an ideal situation to be in, and that was putting it mildly. All she could hope for now was to be left in peace until the day she could get out of this lunatic asylum. As for the medicine… Gods, what was she to do? What the ridiculously named ‘Hidden’ wanted was a hero, not a simple mare like herself. What did she know about infiltration and theft and… and whatever the hell it was you called it? Nothing! Celestia help her, to do anything now would be tantamount to suicide, not to mention the fact that she’d be doing it for a bunch of ponies she knew absolutely nothing about. They were using her for their own ends, she knew that of course, and the crafty swine Lode Stone had used the ‘plight of the children’ as an emotional lever to get what he wanted. Still, it wasn’t as if she was completely indifferent to their situation. The thought of being able to do something and simply sitting back and watching dozens of innocents die was something anypony with even the most self centered personality would balk at. Probably. But what choice did she have? Parchment had confirmed what she’d already suspected of the ever wary denizens of the citadel - they were watching her. Truth be told she had in all likelihood been under their surveillance since the very moment she’d popped out of that thrice cursed portal and opened her eyes onto their little island paradise from Hades. Hell, they’d probably known about her staying with Blue and Celandine too! Lyra paused and dismissed the intrusive thought. No. No, she was reading too much into it and paranoia was starting to creep in. They couldn’t have known she’d arrive where and when she did, right? After all, Parchment had been wandering the island for weeks before they’d found him, and Celandine and Blue had been together in that old ship for years before a certain green unicorn had burst into their lives. Still, she had a damned good reason to be paranoid considering everything that had happened, let alone what Parchment had just revealed to her. Lyra leaned her head against the wall and groaned loudly. Gods, what a mess!

A crash of glass caught her attention, along with numerous accompanying exclamations.

“Girl? GIRL!” The irate voice bellowed from the expected direction. “Where are you?!”

“Coming!” Lyra shouted back, attempting to sound enthusiastic. She wasn’t. “Stupid bitch...” Duty, once again, called out with its unfortunately familiar wheedling insistence. How, she wondered, had she come to this...

With the last remnants of the glass beaker brushed up and placed in the bin for recycling, the mundane task of sweeping, mopping, and muttering incoherent curses to herself continued much as it had every day since she’d arrived in the citadel. There was a certain safety in familiarity. ‘Boring’ she could live with, for now anyway. At least it meant that she wasn’t being ‘dealt with’ like the other poor sods who’d upset the ‘queen bee’. No, to keep yourself in one piece here in her majesty’s rust red hive, the drones had to be good little workers. And quiet too. Don’t speak out of turn, don’t stick your head above the parapet, and whatever you do – don’t complain. Take it, apologise, and keep it to yourself. Yes ma’am, Yes sir, No sir, No ma’am, I’ll do it right away, ma’am. Bastards. Lyra had heard of ‘serfs’ from the early days of what those in academia had generally come to accept as ‘modern Equestria’. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever believed that one day she’d actually become one. Gods, what was she going to do? Any attempt to rescue Blue or liberate the medicine would likely end in a very sticky end whichever way you sliced it. The only hope she had, should she decide to put Lode Stone’s ‘plan’ into operation, would be to work as quickly as possible. If she opened the door… No, wait… yes, that was it! If she freed Blue, after finding him of course, the two of them could make their way to the store room. From there she would have to open the door, signal the tribal whatsits, and get the buck out of there. After that… Yeah… What would come after that? The zeks and their boss wouldn’t let her get away with that little stunt. Where could she go then? Even if by some miracle she could get a boat that wasn’t stuck like glue onto the shore and full of rust or holes, the damned pegasi seekers would be all over her. And those guys had weapons that made the stuff in Equestria look like water pistols. Goddess damn it all, all this thinking was making her head hurt! What she needed was a diversion. Something nice to take her mind off-

“Hel-lo… I forgot about you...”

It was the dusty old guitar. She’d barely noticed it there, nestled as it was behind the mops, brushes and assorted cleaning equipment of the cupboard where she’d hidden it. Hadn’t she intended to sneak it upstairs to her room? Lyra shrugged. She could do that later when she was done here. One of the advantages of being a cleaner was that nopony paid you much attention, and pushing a cart full of cloths and towels would hardly be out of the ordinary. Here and now however, held in her magic and illuminated by the light from electric lights, the instrument seemed to come alive. Good goddesses, when was the last time she’d played one? Come to think of it, when was the last time she’d even heard music? Lyra twanged a couple of the strings, flinching as the horribly untuned note echoed loudly in the domed room. Thankfully it was late and everypony had gone to bed. The zeks too were nowhere to be seen. Carefully she put the stringed instrument down and walked over to the doors, making sure they were firmly closed.

“No sense upsetting the locals,” she muttered, sitting back down. Her eyes drifted up and down the strings, noting the slight but noticeable build up of years of rust, the neglected dry wood of the fret, together with the usual abrasion where the last owners hoof had repeatedly brushed the wooden body of the instrument. Hoof...? She stared down at her own appendage, then back to the relic of another world, and another species. Surely any creature that could produce the kind of music Blue had back in the ship couldn’t be universally evil. Some perhaps, but the way the ponies here viewed them it was without exception. The humans had done something terrible, unforgivable even. But to punish them all, even those who had nothing to do with the actions of some of their number? Lyra took out a rag, taking a small pot of oil used for door hinges, and set to work wiping the strings. No, what the ponies of the island had done, or more specifically what the maester had done, went far beyond stopping and punishing the offenders. This had turned into revenge, a terrible revenge that had perpetuated down throughout the years. Humans couldn’t be trusted not to repeat the atrocity of their forebears, and thus they were ‘dealt with’ upon discovery. Kill them before they get a chance to kill us, eh? Lyra sighed. At this point it was hard to imagine who was worse. Still, she pondered as she wiped the last of the oil from the strings, better them than me.

And that was all it took.

You just sat back and did nothing. Nothing at all.

Lyra paused, her magic lifting the pot of wood restoring cream and stared off into the distance. In her minds eye she could see him… Blue… Smiling at her, his hand plucking the strings of his guitar. A guitar just like this one. Lyra’s eyes drifted down to the stringed instrument. Hands had played this. Hands, not hooves. Who had played this last she wondered? What wonderful music had this much loved piece of history brought to the world before its owner was killed. Killed… or… maybe not. Gods, maybe he was one of those zeks now? A shiver ran down the young mare’s spine. No, it didn’t bear thinking about. Like Blue himself. If she didn’t think about him, about what they may do to him…

Letting out a whinny of frustration, Lyra tossed the cloth and the bottle of restorer back into the box and slammed a hoof down the strings.

“AGH! BUCK IT ALL!”

She lifted her muzzle, her eyes squeezed shut, and let out another chord: loud, shrill, and full of her pent up anger, and confusion. “Damn this goddess cursed shit hole and screw that stinking bitch in her bucking tower too!” Tears threatened to spill forth, “I hate this bucking place and every bucking thing in it! To hell with it all, and to hell with this stupid, bastard island!” Her neigh echoed around the room, sounding off the walls and causing a peculiarly satisfying resonant effect which made her fur tingle. The guitar was out of tune of course, ideal for when she was venting her inner turmoil to the world, but it wasn’t fair to the poor old thing. Somepony, or rather some one, had loved this once. Now, after all those years left in the dust and darkness, it seemed only right that it be given a voice once more. A proper voice. Lyra’s magic glowed, tuning the strings as best she could. The hinge oil wasn’t the best choice really, and the guitar was far from its optimal peak condition to begin with, but a little time and effort could work wonders. Besides, she was a musician, wasn’t she? She grinned to herself. Oh yes, she was a musician alright. And right now, she needed this. By the gods she did!

A single note, bright and clear, rang out from the long neglected instrument to reverberate vibrantly within the domed void of the portal room. Lyra smiled as another sounded soon after. And then another. A slight adjustment here, moving her hooves and magic to allow for the dimensions of the alien instrument, and… YES! A nice little ‘C’ chord there. A little adjustment and a perfectly passable ‘D’ chord followed. ‘G’ was next. Excellent! A tingle ran through Lyra’s legs, thrilling her with the expectation of that most natural of drives – to make music. Now there was no stopping her. Note after note blended together, calling out, calling to the heart beating powerfully within her chest. Blue’s song had been beautiful, but she was a song writer and a musician both. One of her old ones, a song crafted following a day out at the church of the two sisters, came flooding back in all its glory. It was a song meant to lift the spirits, to give praise to the sun and the moon, and to bring everypony together with its unadulterated call for the joy of life.

Who is the lady, who will be the lord, when we are ruled by the love of one another?

Who’ll be the lady, who will be the lord, in the light that is coming in the mor-ning?

Normally the song was accompanied by an accordion, but the guitar would do. And by Celestia, it would! She took and breath, smiling as her voice rose for the chorus.

Sing one and all, tell it to us all – Long live the day that is dawning!

And I’ll crow like a cock, I’ll carol like a lark, in the light that is coming in the mor-ning!

The music flowed once more, building up around her, singing with her in this strange, alien world. So many things had happened since she’d come crashing in through the portal, so many awful, yet wondrous things. She had met Blue, that incredible human. A HUMAN! He had sung for her, he had protected her, and now she had a chance to do something for him. By the goddess, she could! She could do it! SHE COULD DO IT!

All shall be ruled by fellowship I say, all shall be ruled by the love of one another.

All shall be ruled by fellowship I say, in the light that is coming in the morning!

Sing one and all, tell it to us all – Long live the day that is daw-ning!

And I’ll crow like a cock, I’ll carol like a lark, in the light that is coming in the mor-ning!

Lyra hooves flashed up and down the fret, her magic working in perfect harmony and producing such music as she had never heard. It was music from another world. It was the music of her home. The light of the sun, the pure warmth of a summers day, shone all around her, buoying her up into Celestia’s loving embrace. Tears streamed down her face as she sang. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Lyra was happy. Actually happy! Oh, such unadulterated bliss... This was true freedom: blessed, pure, and-

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!”

Lyra just laughed, staring at the outraged unicorn with an expression of what could only be described as sheer euphoria. More unicorns were running in now, each one without exception slamming to a halt to stare at the enormous stone ring on the dais in the centre of the room. Lyra barely noticed the thing now. It was just one more object to sweep around, and- She paused, looking up into the eyes of one of the scientists whose amazed stare seemed to be reading something on the inside of her skull.

She stopped.

The world stopped.

“Um… Have I missed something?” she muttered. Around her the statues of lab coated ponies stood in opened mouthed astonishment before the portal. The bright, shining silver light of the now very active portal. Her heart leaped as she quickly shoved the guitar behind her. “Ah, um… How did that happen?!” she coughed. One of the statues slowly blinked, its head almost mechanically swivelling to focus on her. “It wasn’t me!” Lyra blurted. “I didn’t do anything! You said not to touch anything, right? And I didn’t! I just… I… Er, hello?” Nopony was responding to her. Even the one who had turned to look at her appeared to be lost in some sort of shock. Lyra waved a hoof in front of the stallion’s muzzle. The guy didn’t so much as blink. “Hey, you okay?” she asked. But the only thing she was met with was a slight gurgling sound from the poor creature’s throat. Lyra shrugged; the proverbial lights were on but there was most certainly nopony at home. The same could be said for all of them in all honesty. Gods, did it have something to do with that silver glow? Whatever it was bathed all before it, the wash of bright silver giving the scientists the appearance of having near monochromatic coats. The moment however, didn’t last. At the far end of the room the double doors burst open once more, only this time with enough force to near tear the things off their hinges. From out of this distracting cacophony emerged two of the meanest looking zeks Lyra had even seen. They were the zeks that habitually stood outside one very particular mares room. Dull of coat and as generic in appearance as she was, there was there was no mistaking the gleam of magic and menace in those piercing eyes.

The Maester had arrived.

Her eyes took in the portal, the ponies only seconds earlier standing in dumb silence now suddenly surging into life as if a switch had abruptly energised the whole lot of them in one go. And then, inevitably, they took in the shocked form of Lyra. The maester’s emotionless expression never faltered, even as she walked up to Lyra with a measured pace that had the green mare’s heart thundering.

“What did you do?” the maester asked flatly.

A cold sweat broke out on Lyra’s face as she quickly looked about her for an escape route. All she could see though were the banks of blinking lights, the spiralling reams of paper readouts, the ponies running this way and that, the zeks, the maester, the… the spear slamming down an inch from her muzzle…

“I… I, um...” Lyra swallowed, “Nothing?” She backed up a pace, knocking into something. There was a pause, a thump, and a resounding, and very musical, ‘twang’.

As slowly and deliberately as can be, the maesters’ eyes followed the falling guitar. For a second those oddly fathomless orbs alighted there as gently as a butterfly’s wings. “I haven’t seen that since...” Her voice sounded far away, and almost… “Come with me,” she said abruptly. Lyra’s heart did a somersault in her chest as the maester turned to face the way she had come in a dramatic flurry of cloak, mane and tail. For a horrible moment Lyra thought the zeks were going to grab her, but instead they fell into step behind her as she was respectfully, if a little firmly, helped along with a firm pat on the rump. One of the scientists rushed to speak to her, but was pulled up short by a wave of the maester’s hoof. She didn’t need to say anything. Just that simplest of movements was more than enough to send the lab coat wearing pony dashing back to her fellows without so much as a backward glance. Lyra swallowed; she knew how she felt, particularly as a selfish sense of self preservation wished that right then and there she could have changed places with the scientist.

Lyra’s heart was still beating like a bass drum when they reached the top of the tower. Gods above, what a journey that had been! Corridor after featureless corridor, the awful hike up those interminable winding steps of the tower. Every leaden plod of Lyra’s hooves took her nearer to the frigid lair of the citadel’s mistress. Perhaps it was fortunate that most of it passed by in a mental haze of fear and no small amount of befuddlement. After all, what had she done wrong? Sure, she’d found an old musical instrument and had played a tune on the thing. It wasn’t like there’d been anypony there to be offended by, Celestia forbid, a song! The maester may have been a miserable old bag who hated music, but… ah… there was that whole ‘portal thing’, wasn’t there? Surely it had to be-

The door slammed shut behind her making the nervous mare jump several inches off the carpet. Meanwhile the maester was staring at her with those frighteningly emotionless eyes that always gave Lyra the impression the old witch could read her very thoughts. A moment later the maester glanced at one of her zek guards who held out the guitar in one its huge meaty paws. It was hard to imagine those great big mits ever having been graceful enough to have been able to strum any kind of string instrument. Now the only thing this monster could handle with any finesses would be a club. Lyra watched as magic flowed around the instrument, lifting it, turning it for the maester’s inspection. And yet despite Lyra’s mounting sense of dread she began to notice something in the strange mare’s eyes which gave her pause. Normally devoid of any kind of outward expression, there was definitely a hint of something more emanating from the maester. It was hard to say for sure. There wasn’t so much anger as irritation in those mysterious orbs, but rather… recognition? Perhaps. And unless she was mistaken, maybe even the faintest hint of sadness too. It was probably no more than Lyra’s imagination working overtime. Right then she was imagining leaping out of the window.

“Where did you find this?” the maester asked, breaking the silence.

Lyra nearly choked, “I-” She closed her eyes and tried again, taking a shaking breath and licked her dry lips. “I was moving some equipment in the lab and the floor gave way,” she explained. “I fell into an old room and found that in there.” Simple and to the point, Lyra thought to herself. That should satisfy the miserable old sod.

The maester gave no reply at first. Instead her eyes slowly followed the contours of the guitar, tracing the marks of wear on its surface, the grain of the wood… “You are aware of the rule regarding music?” she asked quietly.

“Somepony told me you didn’t like it, yes,” Lyra confirmed as if it were of no real importance. “I didn’t think it would be a problem if nopony else heard me.”

“I see,” the maester said, nodding to herself slowly. “So you decided to break the rules because you thought you wouldn’t get caught.”

Defiance welled up in Lyra’ heart. The way this sour faced mare phrased her question sounded like she was being made out to be some sort of criminal! “No, I just wanted to sing a song,” she replied simply, biting back what she really wanted to say and also precisely what she thought about her, her minions, and this whole nightmarish metal hell she called her ‘Citadel’. When the maester didn’t reply, Lyra continued, “You may not have noticed the lyre on my flank, after all it’s not like we’ve spoken much is it? What with you living up here and me all the way down there mopping the floors with all the other menials. I mean, I may be a fully qualified archaeologist, but I’m a musician by birth, and to deny me the opportunity to play is like denying birds the right to fly or fish to swim.” She nodded to herself, lifting her eyes to meet the gaze of the maester, “You know, I’ve put up with a lot of shit since I came here. I won’t bother listing it all for you as I’m pretty sure you know damned well what’s going on around here already without me spelling it out for you. But in any case, I don’t see what harm playing a bloody guitar is going to do to you lording it over everything in your tin-pot castle. If anything you should be leaping for joy because your pet project is actually working.” Lyra shrugged, “Hell, I may have even hit the right notes to kick start the bloody thing into firing up!”

Those baleful eyes watched Lyra with the same infuriatingly inscrutable stare she’d come to loathe. For such a boring looking creature, the so-called ‘Maester’ had the extraordinary ability to make your mouth run away with you and fill the inevitable void in the conversation with things which, on reflection, you probably should have kept to yourself. Right then, Lyra didn’t give a damn. She was fed up. Fed up, and angry.

The maester gave what may have been a muffled laugh as she turned to the window overlooking the domed laboratory building. Tension flowed around the room with all the subtlety of a rampaging zek. Thankfully the hulking monstrosities were standing quietly to one side. So quietly in fact that Lyra nearly forgot they were there as she considered the possibility of rushing the maester and throttling the damnable mare until she saw sense. Naturally she would never actually perform such a reckless, and doubtlessly fatal act once the zeks dived in to protect their mistress, but she was rapidly running out of patience. And options. The maester on the other hoof appeared to have all the time in the world despite the fact that her ‘incredible magical portal thing’ was finally looking like it was firing on all four cylinders.

“The final component.”

Lyra blinked, furrowing her brow, “I’m sorry?”

The maester gave a thin smile as she continued to observe her nautical domain. “Magic,” she said quietly. “Magic, electricity, and all the elements that I have studied throughout the ages...” She shook her head resignedly, “All those centuries of meticulous study. The endless experimentation, disappointments, failures, and the one thing that I required, the key to unlocking it all, was...”

“Music,” Lyra finished for her.

“No.” The maester shook her head, “It was you.” She closed her eyes and chuckled throatily. “Music on its own is one thing, but there was far more at play here. We had all the best brains in thaumaturgical science from across the world and across the span of countless ages - minds that were unmatched for their scientific achievement in the field of thaumaturgy. When what we really needed was a pony whose talent, whose gift, was... music.” The mare rolled her shoulders and sighed, wincing as she turned. “It’s obvious now of course, but such is the course of things. You see, cutie marks are inherently magical, Miss Heartstrings, or more specifically they are a pictorial representation of the manifestation of an individuals natural talent. That talent is, and of itself, grounded in the raw magic of this world.”

“What, even pegasi and earth ponies?” Lyra asked?

The maester nodded, “All the creatures of Equestria contain a trace of raw magic, from the birds in the trees to the fish in the sea.” She raised an eyebrow as she referenced Lyra’s earlier statement. The green mare’s cheeks burned as the maester continued, “Fate has brought you to us, Miss Heartstrings, and that mare does not do anything without keeping an eye upon some greater design beyond our ken. Therefore I intend to move forward without delay. Once my scientists have made the final checks on the master portal I shall be able to fit the final piece of the puzzle in place and complete the picture.”

“And, um, what is this ‘picture’?” Lyra was beginning to wonder where this was all leading. Thus far it was a destination she didn’t like the sound of one little bit.

The maester turned to face her, “Haven’t you realised it yet?” she asked. Surely you must have some inkling into what the master portal is for?”

“Well, yes,” Lyra answered honestly. “A master portal, at least from what history tells us, can open a doorway anywhere in Equestria, allowing instantaneous travel between two points.”

Lyra’s answer brought a faint smile to the maester’s lips and she nodded as though humouring a particularly none too bright child. “Ah, but not only Equestria. No,” she explained, “a master portal, one which is properly calibrated of course, can be used to open a door to other planes, other dimensions, and even other worlds. Simply put, Miss Heartstrings, the possibilities are… incomprehensible!”

The words ‘Other worlds’ sent a cold shiver racing down Lyra’s spine. As she stood there listening to the maester, horrifying images of lightning flashing across broiling black skies, of ships crashing onto rocks to be torn apart by unimaginable forces, poured into her mind. Even though she had never witnessed it herself, somehow she could see them. She could see the humans, dozens of them, falling into the water, crying out for help as the storm lashed them mercilessly, dragging them back out to sea or else hurling them onto the shoreline where the seekers or chocks were waiting. The survivors who dragged themselves away from those merciless waves thought themselves saved, when the reality was far worse than they could have possibly imagined. Unbeknownst to these poor souls they had been not only been brutally torn from their own world and dashed upon the cold hard rocks of a remote island, they now found themselves trapped on an island of monsters. An island that bred monsters. This was indeed ‘Teufelsinsel’, the devil’s island.

“My goddess,” Lyra breathed. “You’re the one who causes the storms off the island! You bring the humans here as part of your portal experiments!”

The maester raised an eyebrow at Lyra’s deduction, “What, you seriously believe I can create an interdimensional rift simply to pluck random humans from their realm? Pah! You flatter me.” She huffed, dismissing Lyra’s shocked expression. “If I had such godly power than I would have no need of a portal in the first place. No, the phenomenon off the coast here is not my doing, Miss Heartstrings. From what I have been able to determine it is either a result of natural thinning in the interdimensional wall between our two worlds, or a magical construct gone awry, possibly fallout from the war between the tribes or some other race who uses magic.” She shrugged, “I doubt anypony could say for certain, however it is inconsequential to my plans in any case.”

“Which are?” Lyra asked.

The maester smiled, a faint hint of sadness ghosting over her features. “I am… old, Miss Heartstrings,” she said sadly. “Very, very old.”

The green mare gave a sardonic smile, “Parchment doesn’t seem to mind.”

Apparently surprised, the maester let out a raunchy laugh, “No! No, he doesn’t, does he!” She leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. “Ah, young Parchment. Such a fine young boy. He makes me feel so young again.” She let out a sigh, “A rare find indeed. Rather like yourself… Lyra.”

Lyra took a step back, bumping into the huge furry form of one of the zeks. The bloody thing must have been no more than a couple of inches behind her and she hadn’t noticed all the time she’d been stood there. Considering the situation she was in right then, zeks were the last thing on her mind. The maester on the other hoof was another matter altogether. Her use of Lyra’s first name had taken her so much be surprise that she had to give herself a shake to make sure she wasn’t dreaming it all. “Hey, now wait just a minute!” she gabbled hopelessly, “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I can assure you madam, that I-”

The maester clucked her tongue irritably, “Enough of this foolishness. I have much to do and time is of the essence.” She flexed her shoulders and met Lyra’s confused gaze, making her swallow involuntarily. “Lyra, do you want to live forever?”

Silence filled the tower room as seamlessly as quicksand flows into a void. In that circular room high above the ancient collection of iron, steel, brass and glass, the two mares stared at one another with an intensity born of two worlds. Two very different worlds.

“Your answer?”

“Uh...” Lyra nearly choked, her mind reeling with it all. “I… I don’t know what to say!” she blurted. “What the hell can I say?!”

The maester reached into a drawer on her desk and began rummaging for something. “It’s not a trick question,” she said plainly. “A simple yes or no will suffice.”

Lyra closed her eyes and shook her head as she tried to process what this odd creature was asking her. The maester’s calm demeanour was doing little to mollify her either. Gods, she really needed a drink right then! But as always there wasn’t one when you needed it, so instead she took a deep breath and breathed it out as slowly as possible. “It’s not that,” she replied. “I mean, you just dragged me all the way up here and then, right out of the blue, you ask me if I want to live forever?” She blinked in astonishment, holding out her hooves for emphasis, “Good goddesses, put yourself in my shoes. What would you think if somepony asked you that?”

“That they were asking if I wanted to live forever,” the maester said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Bullshit!” The zeks rumbled ominously as Lyra slammed her hooves on the floor, facing down the maester. “I don’t know what your games is here, but I wish you’d get to the bloody point!” Lyra nodded to the open window, “So what is it then? Some sick punchline where your goons throw me out of the window while you laugh maniacally? Perhaps you’ll get one of them to snap my neck first? That’ll be good for a laugh!” Lyra began to laugh herself, feeling some part of her mind beginning to unravel. Goddess help her, she was losing her mind, and who could blame her? Hell, maybe if she did go mad then none of this crap would-

The maester’s eyes flashed, “Have you finished?” Lyra swallowed, her eyes going wide as the strange mare advanced on her until they were almost touching muzzles. “Miss Heartstrings, you appear to be under the misapprehension that I have brought you up here for some nefarious purpose. I assure you that nothing could be further from the truth. Indeed, If I had wished you killed then I would have done so immediately, and certainly not so… dramatically.” She paused, “Is that how things are done in Equestria now?” She closed her eyes and let out a long breath before continuing. “I suppose it can’t be helped. Sometimes I forget that ponies from Equestria are… not quite the same as they were when I was living there.”

Lyra’s heart was still racing. “And how long ago was that?” she squeaked.

Surprisingly the maester appeared to falter, her brows drawing down as she considered the frightened green mare, “Oh, I believe you already know the answer to that, especially if you are half the archaeologist you purport to be. I also believe that you know, or at least suspect, who I am.”

Swallowing again, Lyra tried to nod her head but it felt as though every part of her were fighting to resist her brain’s instructions. Finally she croaked the name… “Galeus.”

The maester smiled thinly, “I confess I am impressed that a pony from your age would have heard of me.” She sighed sadly, her ears drooping for a moment before she gave herself an almost imperceptible shake. The Maester, or Galeus as she truly was, took a deep breath and continued, “All the same, it is a name I have not used in a very long time. And with good reason. So far as Equestria is concerned, ‘Galeus’, the mare who I once was, died when my tower was destroyed. On that day I promised myself that I would begin anew, that I would leave my old life behind me and forge a new path, one of pure scientific research and discovery. To that end I abandoned my old self, founding this citadel and bringing only the finest and most open of minds Equestria had to offer. Together we worked tirelessly to take us all into a new age of wonders so incredible as to be the stuff of legends. The world we would have forged would have been one of true prosperity and real, lasting peace. War, death, hunger and disease would have been a thing of past and no more than a story to thrill foals on all hallows eve.”

All Hallows Eve? Lyra frowned in thought. Wasn’t that what they used to call Nightmare Night, the event said to herald the first appearance of the dark alicorn princess Nightmare Moon? Possibly. The two had been conflated so many times in the following years that scholars had been arguing over whether they were one and the same or two completely separate events ever since. Hardly anypony used the term ‘All Hallows Eve’ nowadays and it had slipped into folklore, remembered only by hedge witches in the furthest corners of Equestria. The fact that Galeus used that term only served to reinforce the feeling of age around this mare. Scholars or no however, one thing that couldn’t be argued was the fact that neither Luna nor Celestia had been around when Galeus had built her infamous tower. Good gods, just how old was this mare? The scant records of her indicated that she was born sometime in the First Age, the one better known as that being of ‘The Three Tribes’. If this was accurate then it meant that she had to be over two thousand years old at least. But records were hardly abundant from that time, with most of what there was being written by monks centuries later. All that aside, what was really frightening Lyra was that Galeus gave off a distinctly megalomaniacal vibe. This was only made worse by the obvious fact that the brown coated mare didn’t look a day over thirty, was as cool as a cucumber, and was not so much feared by the ponies in the citadel as respected. It ran completely contrary to what Lyra had been lead to believe so far by the tribals and even Celandine. She pushed the thought aside for now.

“You say that as though you’ve given up on the idea,” Lyra offered.

The maester shook her head, “Only for now. Such work is beyond our limited means here on the island. However, I intend to change all that.”

“With the master portal.”

The brown mare smiled, “Precisely. With that I can access parts of our world that have been locked away, hidden for untold centuries, and collect the resources we need to bring our dreams to fruition.”

“Our dreams?” Lyra asked. “Don’t you mean yours?”

“Mine, yes,” Galeus affirmed with a simple nod of her head, “but also every pony within our walls.” She held up a hoof, sweeping it round in an arc to symbolise the walled metal world beyond. “We all work here with the betterment of ponykind foremost in ours mind, so that one day we can unveil our works to the rest of Equestria, to make a better world, for all of us.” She raised an eyebrow, “Nopony is here against their will, Lyra. Not even you.”

“What, you mean I’m free to leave?” She glanced over her shoulder, “You mean these guys would just let me walk out of here free as a bird?”

“That is what I said.”

Lyra gave an involuntary chuckle, “I don’t believe you.”

“Oh?”

“No,” Lyra stood up straight, an unfamiliar sensation of what she could only describe as ‘strength of purpose’ sizzling through her. “You tricked me into coming here, using Parchment as bait. If I was truly free to leave at any time, nopony gave me any indication that that was the case.”

“Did they tell you that you could not?”

“I… No! No, of course they bloody didn’t!” Lyra snapped back. “Anyway, let’s say for arguments sake I did leave here, and your goons here didn’t come after me and turn me into paste the moment I stepped hoof out of the gate. Where would I go? Where could I go? Go and live with the Hidden in the caves like a frightened rabbit for the rest of my days? I’d be torn apart before I could get there. Torn apart, I might add, by the monsters that you created!” Lyra bristled. “Oh, I know damned well what your game is here ‘Maester’. You want to lord it up over ponies like you did back in your old tower in Equestria. I mean, you have it all, don’t you? You have your serfs in the village who scrape around in the dirt, sending their foals off to their deaths in case their numbers get too high. You murdered the humans who came here and used their technology to help create a master portal so you could do… something with it. I’m not sure what, but what I am sure of is all that shite about ‘helping all of Equestria’, ushering in a new age of ‘peace’ and an ‘end to wars’, is exactly that. It’s a load of shit!” A low neigh emanated from her throat. “We’ve had ponies like you come along before, all full of promises about a bright new future and how they can ‘change the world’. They’re nothing but snake oil salesponies - ponies who are nothing more than wannabe dictators. I don’t know how, but they always manage to find plenty of gullible idiots who believe all their bollocks, and sure enough, five minutes into their new position they’re off killing anypony who so much as farts in their general direction!” Galeus’s eyes watched in silence as Lyra finished, her heart hammering her chest. “Right then, let’s dispense with all the exposition and get right down to it shall we?” She bobbed her head to one of the zeks. “He going to do it, is he? Or are you going to turn me into one of your pet monsters instead? Considering I switched on your damned machine for you, I think I’d like a choice in the matter, but hell, I’m open to offers.” She could feel a hint of hysteria welling up inside of her. Lyra didn’t consider herself brave, but she wasn’t going to show fear in front of this creature. No damned way in hell!

Galeus hung her head and closed her eyes, “So melodramatic,” she murmured. “You can take the artist out of the drama hall but not the drama out of the artist.”

“Eh? What are babbling about, mare?” Lyra snorted loudly. “Come on, I thought you were in a hurry!”

“A hurry? You mean-” There was a knock at the door. A familiar stallion entered a moment later, taking in the Maester, Lyra, and the two zeks. Galeus turned her attention to the newcomer, “Ah, Parchment, I’m glad you could join us,” she said pleasantly. “Perhaps you would like to take tea with us? I was just hearing from Miss Heartstrings here how I am a, what was it now, a ‘dictator lording it over ponies’, and killing anypony who ‘farts in my general direction’.” She glanced at Lyra, “I’m paraphrasing, but I think that was the general gist of it. Or perhaps I misunderstood something?”

“Lyra?” Parchment turned to look at the flustered green mare who was starting to tremble with the adrenalin still burning though her veins.

Galeus rolled her eyes, “Lyra seems to think I want to kill her, Parchment. I can only imagine it’s because of something somepony said to her. Either our friends in the caves, the pair she met who were living in the vessel on the beach, or perhaps somepony else. Somepony who lives here, in the citadel. Somepony she knew and… trusted, perhaps?” Parchment froze. “Do you have any thoughts on the matter?”

“Keep him out of this,” Lyra cut in suddenly. “It’s me who broke your bloody silly rules. Parchment’s just a dumb kid who can’t keep his muzzle out of things that don’t concern him.” Like Galeus, Lyra thought sourly. Come to think of it, did Parchment even know ‘the Maester’s’ real name? Maybe not. As cool and calm as she may come across to the casual observer, she gave Lyra the impressionshe was the type who liked to keep secrets just for the hell of it. She was probably into kinky bedroom play too, and probably had ball gags and whips just waiting for an impressionable young stallion who was at they age where the average male had more hormones than brain cells.

A thin smile passed over Galeus face as she watched the two ponies before her. There was Parchment, standing as stoic and proud as the day she had first met him. Even half starved and dehydrated the young lad had shown a strength of will that had impressed her. His contemporary on the other hoof was, by comparison, a bubbling ball of furry green anger. Fear shone in her deep yellow eyes, and that in itself was a cause for concern. Fear blinded you, it made you weak and unable to function properly. With the portal now operating it was absolutely vital to keep it that way. Making sure Lyra was fully on board with her plans would be preferable, but not essential. So long as she was able to produce the necessary magical harmonics to energise the portal - should it shut down unexpectedly - Lyra’s co-operation was all that was really necessary. Force could be employed to that end of course, but it was not the preferred option. Compulsion could taint the magic and have unexpected, if not downright disastrous, consequences.

“You have questions,” Galeus said gently. “I understand. If I was in your place right now I’d feel exactly the same. Lyra, I know it was wrong of me to deny you your passion for music. That,” she sighed sadly, “is a failing on my part.” She shrugged, “And look at where it put me: years of research. Years of searching for that one component I was lacking, and it was there all along.” The brown mare shook her head resignedly, “Music - The one essential component that all ponies hold within their hearts. I denied it to everypony, including myself, for nothing more than petulant selfishness and bitterness.” Galeus laughed, “And all I needed was a mare with a talent for music to show me the way.”

Lyra froze. All of her anger, her doubt and frustration, evaporated like the morning mist. Was this the same Galeus, or was it some trick, some duplicitous word play to make her more compliant? She wasn’t sure. At the back of her mind some part of her was screaming and kicking, demanding that she not listen to the brown mare’s words. Yet at the same time Galeus seemed so absolutely genuine, so… so normal... Dear Celestia, was she actually starting to feel sorry for her? Oh goddesses, she was. She actually was! Lyra swallowed, bowed her head and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Galeus, Maester, look...” Lyra shuddered, “I’m not the brightness mare in the world, and I admit that I have what some may say is a simplistic view of the world, but you’re asking me to take a hell of a lot here on face value alone.” She held up a hoof, “You turned humans into monsters. You turned one of your own pegasus guards into one of those beasts that eat ponies, and you have a village that is effectively being held hostage to their need for medicine. That’s not to mention the ponies living like frightened rabbits in the caves.” Lyra glanced at Parchment and back to the maester, “Can’t you see how what you’ve said about helping all of pony kind and bringing peace and prosperity runs completely counter to all of that? I mean, I want to help you, I want to get off this island like everypony else, but how can I believe what you’re telling me when what I’ve seen with my own eyes tells me you have far from the noblest of intentions?”

Glaeus huffed, her eyebrows raised as she nodded, “Yes. Yes, I can see how you could see things that way. I expect that if I were in your position with no knowledge of our history or why things are how they are, I would in all likelihood come to the same conclusions.” The brown mare smiled sadly, “I’m not perfect, Lyra. I never claimed to be. I came here because I was forced to, because I would have been killed if I had not. Something, I believe, not unlike what happened to you?”

Lyra hung her head, “Yeah...”

“Yes,” Galeus snorted, flicking her mane. “And I suspect you would have had about as much knowledge of how to build a functional society as I had. That being – none whatsoever.” She span round, rolling her shoulders, “But that didn’t stop me from trying! I did everything I could, everything I had to, to keep us alive when all the odds were against us. Now look at us!” Galeus pointed out of the window, “We have food, water, shelter, and everything we need to not only keep us healthy, but moving forward with technology the likes of which the scientists in Equestria could only dream of!”

“But the Hidden!” Lyra cut in quickly. “They’re dying!”

Galeus’ reply was like a bolt from the blue, “They’re not!”

Lyra nearly choked, “But the medicine! If they don’t get it they’ll die!”

“Of course they’ll die!” Galeus barked. “Everything dies, Lyra. You, me, and probably even those precious princesses I keep hearing about.”

“What? I don’t understand...”

Galeus walked back around to her desk and took out a phial of shining white liquid. “This,” she said flatly, “Is what they want. This, this medicine?” She snorted angrily. “This doesn’t cure anything, Miss Heartstrings. Does it, Parchment?” Lyra looked to Parchment who paled slightly. “Go on,” Galeus prompted, “Tell her. Tell her about the ‘medicine’ that I deny those pathetic creatures in the caves.”

Parchment had kept as quiet as a statue all this time, but now he finally began to show signs of animation. His ears twitched, his tongue running over dry lips. “The medicine...” He closed his eyes, his voice dropping to little more than a loud whisper. “It doesn’t… It isn’t a cure, it’s…”

“It prolongs life,” Galeus finished for him. “It’s the reason why we’re able to live so long.”

If Lyra’s eyes weren’t wide before, they were like dinner plates now. “It’s an elixir of life?!” she asked in astonishment.

“If you wish to call it such, then yes,” Galeus replied succinctly, “it is precisely that.” She levitated the phial into the air, unstoppered it, and poured the contents down her throat.

“But the shaking. The disease!” Lyra blurted, “The villagers die if-”

“Of course they die from disease!” Galeus stomped her hoof, making the zeks rumble ominously. “We treat them the best we can, but tropical fevers are endemic on islands like this. This medicine prevents ageing, it isn’t a panacea for all ailments. If you break a leg and die from infection, or you fall on your head, or drown, or whatever else brings your story to an unexpected end, then I’m sorry, but that is life, Lyra, wherever you are in Equestria.” Galeus put down the phial. “Do you see? I presume you met Lode Stone on your little sojourn the other night? Told you that he wanted the medicine to help his merry little band, did he?” Lyra said nothing. “Ha! I can see by your reaction that he did. Well then, I can tell you now that our friendly band of rebels will not be getting any ‘medication’ whatsoever. But as I have offered him time and time again, he and his ‘tribals’ are still welcome to join us when, and only when, they are willing to abide by the rules of the citadel and help us in our endeavours.”

“I… You mean...” Lyra shook her head, “You mean they’re out there through choice?”

“Through Lode Stone’s choice!” Galeus snapped. “That damned fool tried to overthrow me and got dozens of ponies killed in the process. He called me a dictator, wanted me to work with the very monsters who raped-” She froze, her eyes locking onto something beyond Lyra’s head. The atmosphere in the tower room was as cold as ice despite the hour. Gradually, Galeus muscles relaxed, her eyes closing. That was when Lyra saw something for the first time since she’d got there. It wasn’t Galeus’s words that had affected her. It wasn’t even the way that Parchment was holding the trembling mare, it was… how vulnerable she looked. Galeus, the mage out of legend, the mare who was as hard as the stone from which her legendary tower had been formed, was… a mare. A normal, flesh and blood mare. Tears rolled down Galeus face as Parchment hugged her to his chest. It felt to Lyra as though she were intruding on something private here, something incredible personal not only to Galeus, but also to Parchment. This was the same Parchment who had thought that Galeus was psychopath wasn’t it? But… But the way he held her now, it was so gentle, so loving. Lyra’s mind was reeling with it all, and yet one name suddenly flashed into her mind as she watched those two holding each other.

Blue.

“Galeus?” Lyra blinked away a tear of her own. “Let Blue go. Please.” The brown mare looked up at her. “I know, at least I think I have an idea of the horrible things that have happened to you and your people, but Blue is a good man. Celandine loves him.” She took a breath, “I’ll do whatever I can to help you, but please, let them live out their lives in peace. They need never bother you or...” Her words died away as she saw Galeus nodding.

“Go,” the brown mare said quietly. “Take Parchment with you and free him. When you’re done, come back here and we’ll talk some more. I think it’s time for change, Miss Heartstrings, and perhaps… perhaps you would... play for me?”

That was the best thing Lyra had heard since she’d first arrived on this cursed island. “I would be happy to!” she beamed.

“Then don’t dally,” Galeus replied, her eyes taking in Parchment. “There may still be time yet.”

“Still…?”

Parchment moved away from his mare, kissing her once, and crossed the room to the door. “Come on, Lyra, let’s shake a tail.”

Galeus voice called after them as they descended the spiral stairs, “Hurry! And remember my offer. It still stands.”

Her offer. Eternal life? Much of what she’d seen on this island was so outside her normal sphere of experience that it wouldn’t surprise her if such an incredible elixir really did exist. Well, of course it must exist or else Galeus wouldn’t be alive now, or Lode Stone for that matter. On the subject of which, Lode Stone must have been able to get his hooves on it too as the old guy must have been as old as Galeus herself, or not far off anyway. That also meant that the ponies in the caves were ancient too. Gods, maybe even those kids! Damn it, by her standards she was probably younger than they were! It was all absolutely mind boggling. Shaking her mane, Lyra tried to push the intrusive thoughts from her mind. It wasn’t the time to consider such outlandish things, be they real or imagined. But still, it was hard to think of anything else even with their headlong rush down to the ground floor. One by one the corridors flashed by in quick succession, the descent down into the bowels of the citadel where the temperature began to noticeably drop, passing by in a blur of colour.

“You sure know your way around,” Lyra observed, panting to keep up.

Parchment didn’t reply. He moved with purpose, and a steady pace that Lyra had trouble keeping up with. Damn it all, when had she become so unfit? Sure, years of boozing and playing at gigs in smoke filled bars hadn’t done her any favours, but she wasn’t over weight. Was she? Maybe all those years up to her naffs in mud and such had done something to her chest, but then she wasn’t some athletic type who was obsessed with keeping in top shape. She was about average for a mare her age, and she hadn’t had any problems with getting a partner whenever she’d fancied a bit of fun after a night out. Bonnie, normally uninhibited when it came to making observations about others, Lyra included, hadn’t said anything about her general fitness either. Goddesses, when she got home she was going to get herself down to the gym and start working out. This was bloody ridiculous! Eventually though, and somewhat mercifully, they reached a darkened corridor with a heavy metal door barring their progress.

“This is it.” Parchment lifted his head and rolled his shoulders before turning to her, “Are you alright?”

“Gods above…!” Lyra leaned heavily against the wall, blinking sweat from her eyes. “Just give me a bloody minute will you. Luna’s lugs… How are you so damned fast?”

“Fast?” Parchment paused for a moment, “Ah, well I was junior track and field champion four years running in school. I’ve kept up with my fitness regimen ever since.”

“And you went into archaeology?!”

Parchment shrugged, “Only to kill some time before I went to the sports academy. Volunteer work looks good on your résumé.”

Lyra wasn’t sure if she was relieved by that little revelation or simply furious. Hell fire, she felt like she was having a heart attack! Thankfully a few deep breaths and moment of rest whilst Parchment fiddled about with the door gave her the respite she needed. ‘Sports academy’ indeed!

The door itself was bolted secured from the outside, but curiously there was no lock to be seen. Either they were very trusting of their staff here, or they had no idea about basic security. “Magically locked?” Lyra pondered aloud.

Parchment shook his head, “No need. Nopony here would have any truck with what goes on with these things.”

“These ‘things’?”Lyra didn’t have time to dwell on Parchment’s comment as the door swung open effortlessly, and in near complete silence. Lyra felt an involuntary shiver sizzle down her spine which made her tail twitch uncomfortably. The massive steel construction looked like it had been designed to withstand a frontal attack from siege engines, and then some. The way the hinges allowed it to open so smoothly and soundlessly was certainly a testament to the skills of the engineers who’d designed and built it. But what infernal use it had eventually been put to however, could hardly have been envisaged by these skilled creators. Not in a million years, or their worst nightmares. What lay inside the room beyond the door was beyond Lyra’s comprehension. Enormous vats sat around the edges of the room, filled with a curiously glowing green liquid. Ominous looking chains of black metal suspended from overhead gantries, hung above the silent, unmoving fluid. Voluminous glass tubes containing more of the strange liquid, were arrayed against another wall. As Lyra moved closer she could see that some of them contained… ‘other’ things. Things that bore a vague resemblance to living creatures she’d seen not twenty minutes ago. Her eyes went wide as she realised what was hanging there, suspended inside the evil liquid. They were zeks. Each of the tubes held a singular creature, whether alive or dead she couldn’t tell, but there they were… floating. Silent. Silent as death…

“Lyra!” Parchment said quickly from somewhere across the large room. “Never mind that. Come over here and help me.”

“Help…?” Lyra mind was a reeling mess of nightmarish visions that she knew would haunt her dreams for years to come. She backed slowly away from the horror in the tube. Were those eyes watching her? Was it even alive? These beings had been humans once, hadn’t they? “I… Oh Celestia...”

“Lyra! Snap out of it!”

Lyra choked down the bile in her throat. Partly from her exhaustive run, but now this hideous sight of supernatural horror all around her, the green mare had to fight the urge to vomit. Vomit, and run. Gods, how she wanted to run from his nightmarish place! She nearly screamed when a hoof touched her shoulder.

“Lyra, focus on what we’re doing.” It was Parchment. “I need your help to get Blue out of here. He’s very weak.”

He was right. Lyra turned with leaden hooves, her eyes focussing almost mechanically on the large metal bed. It was, like so much around here, clearly made by and for the use of humans. A large circular array of lights hung from the ceiling above the angled bed, with a bewildering conglomeration of tubes, wires and devices surrounding the occupant. A very familiar occupant.

“Oh no, BLUE!” Lyra rushed to the human’s side, looking him up and down in an almost feverish combination of revulsion and panic. The male looked almost indistinguishable from the fit, muscular male she’d met in the ship. This shrivelled thing, this dried and wrinkled husk of a creature before her, looked… Lyra shuddered… he looked dead. She couldn’t see any signs of breathing. There was no rise and fall of his chest, no movement of his hands nor features whatsoever. “We’re too late...”

“Not yet we’re not,” Parchment huffed, pulling some of the machines aside. His magic glowed, lifting a long snaking tube that ran from a device strapped to the human’s chest and connected to another machine which held a rack of phials - phials that were identical to the one the maester had in her office. A white fluid, shimmering as though alive, dripped like blood into the waiting glass tubes drop by drop, slowly but steadily draining the very life from Blue, one tiny piece of life at a time. Each of these phials contained the life force, the life essence, of a living being. A living, intelligent being. Beings who had their own hopes and dreams, their own loves, fears and emotions, just like Equestrians. The very same Equestrians who were drinking the life of the humans to prolong their own.

“Goddess forgive us,” Lyra breathed. “They’re vampires. They’re goddess cursed vampires!”

“What the hell are you gabbling about?” Parchment snorted. He unclipped another strap holding blue to the bed.

“Vampires!” Lyra nearly screamed the word. Madness was starting to claw at her mind, the realisation of what was going on on this demoniac island threatening to send her howling into the void of utter insanity. “You’ve been drinking the life force of prisoners to lengthen your own life span!” She shook her head, “Parchment, please, tell me you haven’t drunk any of this stuff! PLEASE!

Parchment’s expression changed to one of angry exasperation. He leaned across Blue, his eyes meeting hers, “We don’t have time for this shit, Lyra. If you want the human to live, then do what I damned well tell you or wait outside!”

That did it. Lyra blinked away her tears and did her best to switch off her emotions. Determinedly she followed the young stallion’s instructions to the letter. In short order more of the wide leather straps were unbuckled, falling to the floor to join their fellows. Pipes were removed next, needles extracted, and finally that horrifying metal device that had been sitting like some satanic carbuncle over the naked human’s heart. Incredibly the cruel black mark it left behind almost immediately began to fade.

“Pass me one of the phials,” Parchment instructed. “Quickly Lyra, he’s barely hanging on here.”

Lyra blinked, turning clumsily to the trolley that held the machine with the glass containers of white liquid. She lifted one in her magic, sensing the peculiar, alien ‘twisting’ feel of the energy inside. This thin piece of glass, this insignificant tube, held the extracted life energy of a living creature. In a way what she was holding now was Blue. “What now?” she asked.

Parchment took the phial from Lyra and frowned in concentration, “Truthfully, I’m not sure.”

Lyra’s jaw dropped, “You’re not sure?! Gods help us, this isn’t the time to be winging it, Parchment!”

The purple stallion clucked his tongue. “We’ve never reversed the process before, Lyra,” Parchment explained plainly. “There was never any need to do so.” He floated the phial over the human’s head and pressed a pedal, tilting him forward slightly.

“Hang on, you said ‘We’ve’ never reversed the process?” Lyra couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You mean to tell me you actually took part in this… this outrage?” She swallowed, “Celestia’s mercy, Parchment, what have you ponies been doing here!”

“Staying alive,” came the simple reply. He poured the fluid between Blue’s parched lips. Next, he began to stroke the human’s throat, encouraging the helpless creature to swallow. Nothing happened.

“We’re too late,” Lyra groaned. “He’s dead, Parchment. Can’t you see that? You and your psychotic murderess killed-”

Suddenly there was a cough that made both ponies jump in surprise. Before them, Blue’s body abruptly began to jerk spasmodically. Once. Twice. Drops of fluid burst from his mouth then vanished in the air like morning mist in the first rays of sunlight. “Hold him down!” Parchment shouted, “Shit, I shouldn’t have taken the straps off!”

“He’s having a cardiac arrest!” Lyra was close to panic now. “Do something!”

“Like what?!” Parchment yelled back, “If you know what to do, mare, then I’m open to ideas! You wanted the damned thing brought back and that’s exactly what I’m trying to do!”

“You did this to him in the first place!” Lyra shrieked. “You must have some idea!”

“I’ve poured the stuff down his throat, exactly the same way as we do.” Parchment shook his head, “Other than that, I-”

“He not a pony, Parchment!” Lyra snapped. “Maybe it doesn’t work the same way!”

The young stallion took a deep breath, his expression hardening, “And so what if it doesn’t?”

“What?”

“You heard me.” Parchment glanced from the human to Lyra, “It’s a human, Lyra. They’re not like us. They rape, they torture, they murder, and they enslave.”

“Blue hasn’t done anything like that!” Lyra cut back. “You can’t lump them all together because of what a few of them did.”

“A FEW OF THEM?!!” Parchment’s eyes bored into hers. “The ponies here have damned good memories of what these filth did to them, Lyra. Why do you think there were no locks on the door? It’s because nopony in their right mind would let these things loose again to do what they did all over again.”

“What a load of shite!” Lyra stomped a hoof in exasperation. “My gods, she’s really got inside your head hasn’t she?”

“You’ve got inside hers, you mean!” Parchment was all but shaking with anger now, “She’s the one who told me to help you let this thing go free! Well, all I can say is thank the gods there’s only one of them. If they started to breed, history would start to repeat itself all over again, and one’s bad enough! How long before his nature starts reasserting itself and he turns on us?”

“That the most paranoid bigotry I’ve heard in my whole damned life!” Lyra replied.

Parchment sighed, “The truth is the truth, Lyra. You can’t change facts simply because they’re inconvenient to your biased preconceptions.” He took a breath before continuing, “As a historian you should know better than anypony how history can and does repeat itself, especially if we wantonly ignore the lessons of the past.”

Lyra’s eyes hardened, “Don’t you dare, don’t you DARE try to lecture me about history you little shit!” The green mare reared, “You and your vampire pals are the real monsters here.” She gave herself a shake, trying to keep herself under control. At least, some semblance of control. It was like trying to be the only sane inmate in a lunatic asylum. “There’s a reason Galeus was chased from Equestria, Parchment,” she continued. “That mare is a dangerous megalomaniac. A very intelligent megalomaniac, sure, but look at what she’s doing! Can’t you see what she’s done to these creatures is wrong? Celestia would never forgive any of use for this inequine behaviour.”

“Celestia?” Parchment let out a loud derisive snort. “Don’t make me laugh. Where is she? Where is the almighty white witch when her ponies are in need to help, eh? Where was the virgin queen when the humans began to butcher us, cooking and eating our children whilst raping their parents in front of them?” He was all but foaming at the mouth now. “Come out Celestia! Come out, come out, wherever you are!” He made a show of looking around the room, “Well, no sign of her so far. But don’t worry, Lyra, I’m sure she’ll be here any minute riding a comet of fire to save all of us poor little sinners!”

“Luna’s backside, listen to yourself!” Lyra shouted. “You weren’t there, Parchment! Neither of us were even born when that was going on! Get a grip of yourself, they’ve brainwashed you into-”

“Have you…” Both ponies froze, their eyes meeting each others in mutual surprise. That voice! “Have you… finished… screaming at each… other yet?”

Blue’s eyes, his namesakes, were watching them with an air of intolerable sadness. They were bloodshot and horribly sunken in the sallow flesh of his skull. “Could I… have another of those?”

Whatever spell had halted the two ponies was immediately broken. Parchment, his anger vanishing almost as fast as it had appeared, immediately began to help the human to sit up whilst Lyra passed him another of the phials. Blue downed it in a trice, and then another and another. His painfully slow, creaking motions, quickly increased in pace to a near frantic grasping at the stolen fluid. Although Lyra was passing him the phials as quickly as she could, she couldn’t help but gasp in awe at the changes happening before her very eyes. Blue was starting to… fill out. She shook her head in incredulity. She’d never seen anything like this! When she’d first seen him lying on the bed his body had had the appearance of a balloon whose air had been let out. Now, the reverse was happening. Blue’s skin started to stretch as if being inflated from the inside, the wrinkles lessening as it did so. The dark circles around his eyes paled slightly, his muscles moving like snakes, writhing as the gift of life was poured, one shot at a time, back into him. Parchment passed him a glass of water which he took with a nod of thanks before returning to the phials.

“That’s the last one,” Lyra said, turning to him at last. She looked him up and down, noting how thin he looked.

“Don’t tell me, I look like hell, right?” Blue downed another glass of water, pausing to wipe a drop from his chin. “God damn it,” he groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “I feel like I’ve been through a mangle. What in gods name did those bastards do to me?”

Parchment spoke before Lyra could say any more. “You’ve been in a magically induced coma since you were captured,” he explained. “Your life energy has been drained out, but by the looks of it we weren’t too late to get it back into you.” He frowned, “Most of it anyway.”

“Most?” Blue asked, swinging his legs over the bed.

“Some of it was transferred into storage.”

Blue gave a mirthless laugh, “Well that’s good to know.” He looked around the room, “Where’s my gear? I know you guys walk around in the altogether, but I don’t have much in the way of fur, you get me?”

Lyra suddenly blushed and looked away. Fortunately Parchment knew exactly where Blue’s things had been stored and walked over to a large cupboard set into the wall. Carefully he started to sift through the folded piles of clothes one items at a time until-

Blue’s arm shot out like lightning, slamming the door fully open as he stared at the clothes lying there. In a silent daze he bent down, his thin hands trembling, bony fingers gripping the tan cotton garment. Recognition blazed in his eyes, alighting upon the faded name tag. “Lightfoot,” he read aloud. He dropped it, finding another and another until he found one he recognised. “Gerber.” Blue’s hands started to tremble, causing Lyra to step back hurriedly. “Oh Jesus... Bill...” Blue Stood up straight, his hollow eyed taking in the huge glass tubes, the floating forms of the zeks, and the machinery that was still slick with his stolen life energy. Realisation, so horribly missing since he had been locked up down here, dawned bright as day. He closed his eyes, raw emotion making his painfully thin features twitch. And then, as though a light had suddenly come on in his tortured mind, he spun round to lock eyes with Parchment. For several seconds the two stared at each other. It was then he finally spoke. “It was you.” Blue’s eyes, the same eyes Lyra had found so enchanting when she’d first met him, now burned with unadulterated hate. “You evil little BASTARD! You did this to me! You and your murderous scum murdered my friends and sucked me dry!”

“Your friends aren’t dead,” Parchment said in his irritatingly dry tone.

“No?” Blue shook his head. “No, you turned them into those fucking freaks, didn’t you? Christ on a cracker, they’d be better off dead than that… that monstrous half life they have now!”

“They’re a living source of life energy,” Parchment said as though explaining it to a child. “It makes sense for the citadel to keep them alive so that they-”

“You fucking animal, I’ll kill you!” Blue suddenly reached for Parchment’s throat, hands outstretched. But the stallion was too fast for him. In a flash of magic the human was picked up and hurled bodily into the back of the cupboard with an almighty crash of tortured metal. Clothes erupted from the exposed interior amidst a roar of animal rage, immediately followed up by the enraged human bursting forth like an avenging demon out of legend. Lyra screamed something, her attempts to stop him so utterly futile he barely registered that he’d knocked her flying into a pile of equipment. Blue now had one focus, and that was to take revenge for his murdered friends and all the other innocents these vile four legged killers had butchered. For years they had been doing this. Countless years. The evidence of this monstrous act lay scattered around him: clothes, shoes, socks, hats - the innumerable and pathetic remnants of a civilisation that didn’t belong here, torn from their home by forces they could have never even begun to understand. These were the last earthly possessions of desperate and frightened souls lost in an alien world, now kept in a cupboard like some macabre trophy cabinet. Now, there was only Blue. He was the last one. And it was up to him to stop this insanity, come hell or high water. The stallion facing him was one one of the beasts that had done this, and he would be the first to fall before he tracked down the monster that was behind this living nightmare. His eyes narrowed, muscles flexing. Howling with pent up frustration and pain, Blue sprang at the focus of his hatred.

Magic burst around him, slamming him to the ground, grabbing his legs and taking them out from under him. But Blue, as weak as he was, was far from defenceless. He snatched up anything and everything he could find, swinging or throwing the impromptu weapons as hard as he could towards the purple stallion. This impromptu barrage of missiles and makeshift clubs was almost immediately swatted away or else torn from his grasp with infuriating ease. Blue, however, didn’t care nor let up, not even for a second. His training in the army air corps had taught him to never give up when facing a determined enemy, that he must fight and keep on fighting until he won. Discipline and a cool head were emphasised at each and every stage. His instructors however, could never have envisaged one of their recruits ever being in a situation like this. How could they? Military training was all well and good too, but not when raw, primal adrenalin held sway. Now pure hatred had blinded him to all else, with uncontrollable rage fuelling the fire within his heart. Blue was so focussed in his effort that he didn’t see the stallion’s magic falter. Despite the hooves kicking him full in the chest, his legs, his shins… Sheer will drove him on. Blue had grown up on a farm where kicks from animals was just something that came with the territory. He’d been kicked by cows, the farm mule, and once by old Chester the draught horse. He hadn’t harboured any grudges against them, he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time and hadn’t been paying attention. And that could get you killed. One time he’d been cornered by a wild coyote when he’d been out by the sty feeding the pigs. Thankfully his father had been nearby before the tortured thing had had a chance to bite him or any of the other animals. Pa had put a pullet in the coyote’s head, ending its suffering. This thing in front of Blue now though was unlike any earthly animal cursed with the madness of rabies. They had been unwilling victims. This thing was worse. This one had done what it had knowingly. Knowing the suffering it would cause.

It had to be put down.

The sound of bone cracking punctuated the air together with a heart rending scream. The scream of a mare. Blue stopped in his tracks, his gaze shifting from the prone, bleeding figure of Parchment, to the shaking green form of… “Lyra?” Blue stared at the metal rod in his hand, his eyes taking in the glistening droplets of blood, letting it fall to the tiled floor with a clatter. “Oh no… Lyra. Lyra!” The human dropped to his knees, taking the mare up his arms. Thoughts of vengeance immediately vanished, washed away by the sudden realisation of when he had done. “Lyra...” Lyra shivered, blood trickling down the thin gash on her forehead. Blue’s head turned to the stunned Parchment. “YOU!” he roared, “Do something! Help her, damn you!”

And he did. Parchment, shaken, bruised and bleeding himself, helped the human lift Lyra up onto the very bed where Blue been strapped down and abused to the point of near death. Blue had been right, he had been involved with the human’s capture. Now Lyra, the innocent mare who had done nothing to deserve this, had been caught between the two battling males and bore the brunt of their foolishness. He looked her up and down, checking her breathing, looking for any signs of internal and external injuries. Unfortunately there were plenty to choose from too. At least Lyra was breathing normally. She was unconscious, her chest mercifully clear of fluids by the sound of it. The most obvious problem was the gash on her head which was bleeding profusely. A blow like that could very well mean concussion, or worse.

“How is she?” Blue asked anxiously.

Parchment glowered up at him from under heavy brows, “Alive,” he said heavily, noting the human’s concerned reaction. “Probably concussed, possible fracture to the skull, eyesocket...”

“Possibly, maybe,” the human echoed, “Don’t you know?”

Parchment grimaced, “I’m not a doctor.”

“You were a doctor enough to drain the life out of me!” Blue snarled.

The purple stallion paused, then nodded resignedly, “Yes. I didn’t have a choice in the matter, but I did it all the same.”

“Huh,” Blue sniffed. “We fought a war against guys like you. ‘Just following orders’, right?”

“And what would have happened to those other ‘guys’ if they’d refused?” Parchment queried, rummaging through the wrecked medical equipment.

Blue shrugged, “That’s not the point.”

“Isn’t it?” Parchment retorted. “The way I looked at it, it was either you or me. If I’d refused they would have gotten to you eventually anyway, and so I chose self preservation. Besides, Lyra may have some connection with you, but I don’t know who you are. As far as I know you’re just another monster who rapes and kills ponies for kicks like the rest of your kind.” He passed Blue an absorbent pad, “Here, press this against the wound while I try something.”

Blue watched him for a while. “Is that what you think of humans?” he asked. “That we’re all monsters?”

“You lived with a mare didn’t you?” Parchment replied. “You lived with Six in the ship. Surely she must have told you about the humans who had come in on the vessels that had arrived earlier?”

“She has a name.”

“Sorry?”

“Her name is Celandine.” Blue narrowed his eyes, “But that’s half your trouble, isn’t it? You and your clowns here, dehumanising people. Even your own kind, reducing them down to nothing more than a number.”

Parchment stood up, his magic glowing. “I know,” he said quietly. “I don’t agree with everything that happens here, but when in Roam...”

“Do as the Romans do,” Blue finished.

The two stared at each other in silence before Parchment blinked. “Perhaps we’re not so different after all,” he shrugged. “A cliché perhaps, but worthy of a discussion for another time.”

“And another place,” Blue said distractedly. “Can you hear that?” He was looking towards the door. “Sounds like… Sirens?” He stood up straight, his hands flexing. “Damn it, we must have set off an alarm.”

“Not down here,” Parchment replied thoughtfully. “Probably another chock infiltration.”

“Chocks...” Blue shook his head, returning his attention back to Lyra. “What about her? If something’s going on we can’t leave her here.”

“We’re not,” Parchment said, rolling his shoulders. He floated over a phial of the white liquid. “Stand back while I-”

“You’re not going to use that on her, are you?!” Blue blurted. “What in god’s name are you playing at?”

Parchment gazed into the human’s eyes. In that silent exchange something seemed to change in Blue’s eyes. “Watch...”

Carefully the purple stallion dripped the liquid into the open wound on Lyra’s head. Almost immediately smoke began to rise, the fluid life energy sinking into the wicked gash. Then, as the two watched in amazement, the wound began to knit itself back together, the two halves joining, forming a near invisible repair where seconds earlier had been torn flesh. The fur was missing, but now even the swelling was starting to subside. Lyra let out a groan, but Parchment wasn’t finished yet. He started on the other cuts, with the same incredible results. Finally, with Blue’s help, he opened Lyra mouth and poured in a full phial of the miraculous liquid.

“I wonder who that was,” Blue murmured.

Parchment ignored him, looking Lyra over once again in case they missed anything.

“Hey, purple guy,” Blue began.

“Parchment.”

“Parchment,” Blue corrected. “Why were you two down here? I can’t believe they’d just let you walk in.”

Parchment raised an eyebrow as he worked. “Now he asks,” he muttered, checking Lyra’s pulse. He took a breath before answering, “Galeus, the maester as you would know her, agreed to let you go.”

“Bullshit!” Blue laughed. “Come on now, what’s really going on here?”

“I don’t know what else you expect me to tell you,” the purple stallion replied exhaustedly. “Lyra activated the portal and asked the maester to let you go. She agreed, and-”

“And here you are...” Blue finished, turning away. “No guards waiting outside?”

“No.”

“And they’ll just let us walk right out of here back to the ship?”

“I expect so,” Parchment agreed. “She is a mare of her word.”

Blue spat on the floor, “Tch! And you’d believe that being one of her goons, wouldn’t you?”

“Regardless of what you might think of her, she’s never lied to me,” Blue said simply.

“She’s a god damned murderess!”

“I never said I agreed with how she does things,” Parchment shrugged. He thought for a moment and then looked up at the human, “Like you I didn’t plan to come here. Lyra came here to find me and put her life at risk to do so, but in the meantime I had to do what I had to survive. If that meant I did some… questionable things, then it’s something I will have to live with. Me, and me alone.”

“How very philosophical of you,” Blue sneered. “But it doesn’t mitigate what you did to me. Not one bit.”

“No,” Parchment said quietly. “I don’t suppose it ever would.” He lifted up a cloth and dabbed it across Lyra’s face.

“Gods,” came the faint reply, “I thought you two would never shut up.” Bright yellow eyes slowly opened. “Bloody hell… I feel like I got run over by a bus.” She smacked her lips, “Why does my mouth taste like I’ve been swigging mints? And why am I so hungry all of a sudden?”

Parchment passed her a package that contained a drink and some square of what looked like compressed oats. “Your body has been subjected to trauma and accelerated magical healing,” he explained. “It burns a lot of calories doing it.” Lyra sniffed at the oat cake and screwed up her muzzle. “It’s an energy bar,” Parchment said. “It tastes bad, but has all the nutrients your body needs.”

Lyra shrugged and munched the thing down as fast as she could, finished it off with the juice. “Tastes bad?” she groused. “Goddesses Parchment, what’s it made out of? Sawdust?”

Parchment didn’t get a chance to reply. A large boom came from somewhere high above them, reverberating through the room and sending dust blowing through the open door. More sounds followed.

“What’s that?” Lyra asked. Suddenly her eyes flew open, “It’s not another chock attack is it?”

A scream of something unearthly rolled down the corridor outside followed by a rattle of gunfire.

“Quick, behind me!” Blue grabbed a fire axe from the wall and kicked over the bed as Lyra was lifted off it by Parchment’s levitation magic.

“Can’t we lock the door?” Lyra offered, shouting over the noise.

“It bolts from the outside,” Parchment answered. “We’ll need to-”

The door flew open with a deafening bang, the heavy steel slamming into the wall sending a cloud of broken fragments of metal and wood flying in every direction. The resultant cloud of dust and smoke shrouded the figure striding in holding what looked like the kind of weapon that could take down dragons with ease. Very large dragons. All three occupants glanced at each other in shock, unable to speak or move whilst the muzzle of the massive gun swept the room. The owner of the deadly device stood shrouded in the settling gloom, their four legged form heavily covered in what appeared to be sheets of steel, welded and riveted together. Little more than the exposed tail and mane was visible, with even the head of the armoured equine showing no more than thin slits for the wearer to look out from. Blue moved. It was deliberate, nothing more than an involuntary twitch of his leg really, but it was enough to knock a metal stand aside. In that tense moment it sounded as loud as a church bell on a winters night.

Twin lamps flicked on, sending beams of light searing towards the source of the noise. Blue, blinded by the light, flinched back. “God almighty, turn that damned thing off will you?!”

“Blue?” The voice was muffled, but still clear enough to make out.

“Celly?” Blue pulled himself from the debris, shaking off fragments of numerous materials that had settled on his body following the unexpected entry of the armoured pony. “Christ, girl, that was some entrance...”

“BLUE!” A visor on the helmet flicked up, the two bright green eyes within catching the light. The mare lumbered forward, awkwardly reaching up to touch the human as though she couldn’t believe he was really there. “It… It is you, isn’t it?” she asked.

Blue smiled and took her hoof, nodding silently. “Hello, love.”

Metal shod hooves clanked on tile, the mare’s eyes staring up into the humans’. “I thought...” Celandine swallowed. “I never thought I’d see you again. I...”

“Shhh, it’s alright, I’m here.” Blue may not have had magic in the sense that equestrians did, but he wove some kind of spell on the yellow furred mare. “I’m here.” Celandine all but melted into the human, metal and all. Kisses flowed like the sweetest wine, the love these two creatures from different worlds shared leaving no doubt in the minds of any watchers of the genuine affection they shared. In any other setting it would have been heart warming. Here, amidst the wreckage of that nightmare room where such cruelties had been performed on the innocent, it seemed as out of place as one could be.

Eventually Celandine broke the embrace, taking a step back. “Are you alright?” she asked. “Have they-?”

Blue shook his head and reached down to pull on the rest of his clothes. “Don’t worry. I’m still in one piece,” he said gently. Selecting a good pair of flight boots he banged them against the wall to get the dust off before trying them for size. They fit perfectly. Next he pulled out a heavy flight jacket, pausing for a moment to peer sadly at the name. “I don’t think he’d mind if I took it. It’d be better than leaving it here in this hell hole.” Blue stood up, holding his arms out. “How do I look?”

“You idiot!” Celandine chided, half smiling herself. “You look like shit.”

Blue shrugged, “Huh! Everyone’s a critic...” The two stood staring at each other for a second before Blue took his mare in his arms once more. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing, you berk,” Celandine retorted, giving him a squeeze. “I’m rescuing you!”

“Mmm, the regular knight in shining armour, eh?” Blue chuckled. Suddenly he paused, frowning in thought. “You’re not alone, are you?”

Celandine shook her head, “No, even with the deck gun I wouldn’t have made it without-” She froze. Her eyes narrowed suddenly, the movement near the wall catching her attention.

“Er, we’re here too.” Lyra coughed, gingerly lifting a hoof above the upturned bed. “Um, don’t shoot me, okay?” She blew out a fragment of plaster from her nose and pulled herself painfully to her hooves. She was still weak, and every part of her felt bruised and sore. Half flopping over the top of the bed she grinned sheepishly at the metal coated mare, “Hello, Celandine. Long time, no see.”

“No… No ‘see’ at all!” Celandine swung the metal tube towards the green mare. “You said you would help us get the medicine and help Blue! Where the hell where you?!”

Lyra gave herself a shake, but no matter what she did she couldn’t take her eyes off the massive weapon that sat upon Celandine’s armoured back. The muzzle seemed to gape at her, promising a sudden, and very loud, end at any moment. “That’s why we’re here!” she all but shrieked. “Galeus said we could free him, and… and...” Lyra nodded quickly towards Blue, praying he would help her out before Celandine took her out.

The human chuckled, giving the green mare a reassuring smile, “She’s right, the two of them came here and saved my bacon. And not a moment too soon either, the bastards had sucked me drier than beef jerky.”

“Hang on,” Celandine looked at Blue then back to Lyra. “Who’s us?”

A purple muzzle painfully came into view beside Lyra, “That... would be me.”

Celandine’s eyes went wide, and with them the muzzle of the huge gun locked onto the young stallion. “YOU!” she shrieked. “You’re one of them! You’re the bastard who took Blue!”

Parchment closed his eyes and nodded sullenly, “I was one of them, yes.”

“Well, I hope you’ve made your peace with whatever god you believe in you piece of shit, because I’m-”

“Celly, NO!” To everyponies surprise, Blue pushed in front of the armoured mare, his head right in the firing line.

“Blue, get out of the way!”

“No.” Blue shook his head emphatically. “He’s as much a victim here as any of us, Celandine.”

“Like fuck he is!” Celandine’s eyes hardened as she tried to stare past her lover to the object of her anger. “He’s been banging that bitch since he got here. He’s nothing but her puppet!” She switched her gaze to Lyra, “And I don’t know why you’re standing there next to him. He sold you out too!”

Lyra sighed, shaking her head in resignation, “You’re right, he did. But Celandine, he’s just a kid.” She tried a smile, which came off more as a grimace than anything positive. “Parchment and I come from a very different world to the one you grew up in. Neither of us knew anything about this island when we arrived, let alone how to survive here, and Parchment did what he felt was right at the time to do just that. I can question his choices of course, but he did help me, and he helped Blue too. Surely that makes up for anything bad he may have done, right?”

“Not in my book,” Celandine said levelly. “You can’t turn a bad apple good. It only rots the more.” She pointed a hoof at the purple stallion, “They may trust you, but I don’t. Put one hoof out of place and I’ll paint the wall with your insides, ‘boy’.” Her voice dropped to a low snarl, “I’ll be watching you.”

Blue looked away sadly. His expression was unreadable, but his body language said more than words as to how he felt. Lyra watched him curiously, trying to understand the strange alien creature. They were so fascinating! When all of this was over she’d have to make notes, to write down everything she could about him, his people, even his world! Good goddesses, how she’d love to write about him and get her works published. Sure, a lot of ponies would think the whole thing was made up, probably accusing her of being the next Hidden Path while they were at it. But some would know her from her existing writings and at least give her some credence. Who knows, if she was creative then maybe she could use her experience to open the doors to a better career. Head of Magical Creature Studies at Manehattan University’s Department for Myths of Legends for example. She shook her head. No… No, she could do better! Much, much better! What about Chief Archaeological Professor at the Celestian College for Advanced Magics and Research? Dear goddesses, the possibilities! Lyra gave herself a shake, shelving her thoughts for later perusal. Right then the noises from up above were intensifying, whilst Celandine and Blue were talking about something. Beside her, Parchment was standing like a shadow, his head down and his ears flopped. He looked terrible. The beating Blue had given him had been vicious, but more than the physical injuries, his mental state looked like it was cracking like the glaze on an old pot. The lad had been through hell. Pulled through a portal into a nightmare world and surviving only by being the personal bedroom toy of the crazy dictator of the island, Parchment hadn’t stood a chance. If they didn’t do something to get out of this mad house the chances of his sanity recovering from everything he had been through was very much in doubt. In truth she didn’t know much about him, but she couldn’t stand to see him suffer like this.

“Hey,” she prompted. “You okay in there, big guy?” Parchment took a breath and gave one, single nod. “Come on, buck up. We’ll be getting out of here soon,” Lyra said trying to sound positive. “When we get back to Equestria the first round will be on me.”

All he said in reply was, “Mmm.”

Lyra sighed quietly. By the sounds of it that was going to be the best she was going to get. Right now they had to get out of here. And then it hit her. Something Celandine had said… “Oh my gods… the medicine!”

“Huh?” The armoured mare turned to face her. “What are going on about?”

“The medicine!” Lyra’s eyes went wide, “Celandine, the stuff you guys have been drinking, it’s...” She closed her eyes and swallowed. “It’s not medicine, it’s life energy!” At the yellow mare’s uncomprehending frown she explained, “What they were doing to Blue was extracting his life energy, the liquidised essence of what makes him… well, him.”

Celandine shook her head, staring at Blue who just nodded to her in reply. “What? I… I don’t understand.”

“You’ve been drinking the life essence of living creatures!” Lyra barked.

For a second Celandine gawped at the green mare in shock and then, taking a step back, began to laugh. “Oh, for Lode’s sake, what a load of shit! You can’t believe that old wives tale, can you? The medicine is to help keep us from dying of the diseases endemic to the island. Why do you think Lode Stone and his ponies are risking their lives to get it?” She smirked, “Life energy!” Celandine nodded towards Parchment, “What’s that idiot been telling you? You can’t believe a damned word that comes out his mouth.”

“Celly,” Blue said gently, “look around you.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, “They’re telling the truth.” He pointed to the cupboard containing the clothes, the upturned bed, the racks of phials whose white liquid contents glistened in the half light. Celandine stared at the wreckage on the floor, the tubes, the wires… “Don’t you see? They turn humans into zeks here, but they also drain them. I don’t know precisely what the process is, and frankly I don’t want to know, but I believe Parchment and Lyra are telling the truth about this ‘medicine’.”

“No...” Celandine closed her eyes. “No, it… it can’t be true. They’re just trying to get inside your head.”

“Celandine,” Lyra asked gently. “How old are you?”

“How…” The armoured mare frowned, “I… I don’t know, I haven’t… I mean, I didn’t keep a...”

“The life energy prolongs equine life,” Parchment added, stepping around from the bed. “The fever you spoke of on the island does exist, and the life energy does nullify its effects, so that much is true. But the fever ceased being a threat to the inhabitants years ago. Now, it’s little more than a high temperature and the shakes for a few days.”

“Bullshit!” Celandine snapped back. “High temperature my arse. Ponies die from it! I’ve seen it with my own eyes!”

“Yes, you probably did,” Parchment said in his customary monotone drawl. “The last known death occurred nearly one hundred and fifty years ago. It was a young child called-”

“Pipkin,” Celandine finished for him. She stared off into the distance, her eyes looking into a past which only she could see. “I was there when she died. I… I was there...” Celandine turned her attention back to Parchment, “One hundred and-” Her voice faltered. “Dear Lode,” she murmured, a pained expression passing over her features, “I’ve… I’ve been drinking...”

“Meh, could have been worse.” Blue gave himself a shake and checked the automtic he’d found in a drawer beside the clothing cupboard. “At least it worked. Some people used to drink irradiated tonics back in the day thinking it would help them live longer. Killed them of course, but you know how some people are. They believe any old crap so long as it sounds believable enough.”

“This is hardly ‘crap’, Blue!” Celandine shouted. “If what that purple rat’s saying is true then I’m older than you! By over a hundred years!” She began to tremble. “Lode help me, I’ve been drinking, drinking, living beings. Humans. Humans like you! Don’t you see? I’m a… I’m a vampire!”

“Pfff!” Blue nearly doubled over in laughter. “Vampires!”

Celandine was incensed, “You think this is funny?!!”

“Actually… yeah, I kinda do,” Blue held his hands up. “But I suppose having an ancient vampire pony for a wife isn’t the strangest thing that’s happened to me since I got here.” He gave himself a hard shake. A habit, Lyra noticed, that looked uncharacteristic for a creature with no fur, mane nor tail. “Right then, fill me in on the way. Let’s get the fuck out of Dodge before some clown thinks we’re useful target practice.”

“Wha-? Hey, hey now hang on a minute!” Celandine started. And then she stopped in her tracks. “Wife?”

“Shush!” In a flash, Blue bounded to the door and peered round the frame into the corridor. “Later. I’ll take point, you back me up with the oerlikon. You loaded up?”

Blue’s commanding tone had a peculiar effect on Celandine. From confused and frightened she suddenly became cool, calm and focussed in an instant. The two, Lyra noted, had an uncommonly strong bond which made her feel, much to her relief, pleasantly reassured. The yellow mare gestured to the large gun on her back, “Got to have eyes in the back of my head to do it, but I fixed in the mirrors like you showed me to the saddle mounting.”

Blue nodded once, “Good girl. Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Cool. You give me the directions and-”

“I know the shortest route out of the citadel.” All eyes turned to Parchment. “The Maester gave her word that Lyra and the human could leave,” he explained, “and she is true to her word.”

“The Maester.” Celandine looked perplexed, “She said you could go. All of you.” It didn’t sound like a question, more a sounding out of the words as though trying to come to terms with what they meant.

“Apparently,” Blue said with a shrug. “These two freed me just before you arrived, love.”

“Gods above. “Celandine hung her head and groaned loudly, “You’ve got some bloody explaining to do. And that means all of you!”

“It also means you’re up with me, Purple.” Blue motioned Parchment beside him, “You know how to use one of these?” He held up another pistol which was tucked into a belt holster. Parchment shook his head. “Maybe it’s just as well. Just keep you head down, and if I say jump, you jump, capeesh?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you understand?”

Parchment nodded.

“Good, let’s go.” Blue looked up as another detonation sounded above them, “Jesus, I don’t like the sound of this. That’s some serious artillery they’re using up there.”

Celandine confirmed what they already knew, “It is.”

Chapter Ten - The last bluebird

The journey down into the bowels of the citadel had been unnerving, descending deep below ground surrounded by the dark, mouldering metal scavenged from sea going vessels that had washed upon the island’s shores countless years before. Lyra had put her trust in Parchment to keep them on the right path. Now, here they were once again, with the purple unicorn male leading them out. Unfortunately ‘the way out’ was taking them nearer to what sounded like a full scale war. Booms, bangs, the sharp report of what Lyra now knew was called ‘gunfire’ popped and rattled around them with an unearthly fury. Her ears twitched, keeping alert for any signs of imminent danger. Not that she needed to at the moment. What was behind her was the dark depths from whence they came. Further up the corridor where the two males were heading the troupe, was where the real danger lurked. Every so often she felt as though she saw something move, slinking away back into the shadows. Here and there lights flickered, fizzing on and off, plunging the corridors into darkness or sudden bursts of illumination. Lyra’s heart leaped every time it happened, and it was getting worse by the second. Throughout it all the sirens blared on, heedless of whether anypony was left who was as yet unaware of the attack on the citadel. Lyra wished that the damned things would just stop. The whining sound was setting her already frayed nerves on edge even more.

“Power from the generators is being diverted,” Parchment whispered as if in answer to an unasked question.

“Which means?” Blue asked.

Parchment shook his head, “Not sure, but if I had to guess I’d say it has something to do with the portal.”

There was another explosion, a thump, and shouts of command from up ahead. The four, temporarily distracted by Parchment’s statement, exchanged glances.

“What, you mean they managed to get that thing working?” Celandine breathed. “Good god, are you sure?”

“Ask Lyra,” Parchment whispered back, nodding towards the green mare. “Her music was all it needed.” Lyra just shrugged and gave a sheepish smile.

“Then that’s where we need to go,” Celandine replied. “You, Purple guy, take us there.”

“No!” The urgency in Blue’s voice took them all by surprise. “Forget it. If we try going that way and the maester has the thing working I’d bet you a pound to a pinch a’ poop that they’ll have that place sealed up tighter than a nun’s panties.”

Trying to push aside the disturbing image, Lyra asked, “So what’s plan B? I mean, there is a plan B, right?”

“Of course there’s a plan B.” Blue pressed up against the wall as Parchment checked if the way ahead was clear. “Once I can think of it,” he quickly added. “The way I see it, is if Celly’s pals are coming after the medicine then that’s where they’ll be,” the human conjectured. “The citadel’s ponies will have retreated to protect the nerve centre, and that’ll be the portal. In between will be no man’s land where I’d put money on those zek guys slugging it out with Celandine’s pals while the rest stuff their pockets.”

“They’re not my pals,” Celandine hissed back. “I wouldn’t trust Lode Stone as far as I could throw him.”

“You don’t trust the maester either,” Lyra retorted.

Celandine treated her to a sardonic smile, “You’re right. There’s only two people I trust in this world, and one of them isn’t even a pony.” At Lyra’s hurt expression she offered, “No offence.”

“Yeah… None taken I’m sure,” Lyra mumbled.

“So what do you want to do?” Parchment asked.

Blue tapped him on the back, “Stick to the original plan. Get us out of here and back to the ship. I want to put as much distance between us and these dickheads as possible” He waved a hand, “Lead on Macduff.”

“Who?” Parchment frowned, “You know what, don’t bother answering that.”

Blue grinned wickedly, “You’re learning kiddo. Keep that up and I may not shoot you later for selling us out.”

The purple stallion raised an eyebrow, “Gee, thanks.”

Lyra hoped Blue was joking. He certainly sounded like he was, but Parchment didn’t look so sure. Then again who knew what weird nonsense passed through that odd unicorn’s mind. He was at that age when hormones did most of the thinking for him, and yet Parchment came across as peculiarly mature for one in his late teens. Assuming he actually was. Gods, she wasn’t sure! Most of the volunteers were teenagers, the spotty, lust driven creatures descending on the latest dig site as something to do over the summer holidays. Lyra, as indeed did most of the full timers, suspected the volunteers came more out a sense of getting away from under their parents supervision than anything else. The noises that emanated from the tents at night suggested that more than a few of the teenagers were far from passing acquaintances too. Still, they were useful to a degree, and from what little she knew of him, Parchment was one of the better ones. In fact he may prove to be an excellent archaeologist if he applied himself to the profession fully. Or was he already? Lyra’s heart sank. In truth she knew virtually nothing about him, nor had she attempted to really engage with him before this whole debacle began. Now such simple pleasantries as a ‘friendly chat’ seemed about as alien to her as everything else in this mad house. These were matters for later though, when they got the hell out of here. But… how? If they weren’t going to the portal then how would they get out of here?

“Celandine?” Lyra asked quietly.

“What? Keep it down, will you?”

Lyra rolled her eyes and pressed on, “How are we going to get off the island if we don’t use the portal?”

Abruptly a roar from up ahead was followed by a blood curdling scream of pain. “It’ll have to wait,” was all the armoured mare answered, and pushed forward at Blue’s waved instruction. Lyra froze in fear. Up ahead of them the hulking shape of a zek stood over the crumpled remains of a pony. By the war paint on the unfortunate creature’s head, he was one of Lode Stone’s tribals. The axe, still dripping gore from its latest victim, hung from the enormous hand of the zek. It turned to face them, its eyes gleaming ice blue in the faltering light.

To everyponies surprise, Parchment stood tall and addressed the creature in a commanding tone, “Stand down.” He took a step forward, his muzzle held high. In response the creature rumbled menacingly, the axe twitching in its clawed hand. To Parchment’s credit the young stallion didn’t so much as flinch. He took a deep breath and made his words ring out crystal clear, “By order of the Maester, I order you to let us pass. Return to your patrol.”

The creature hesitated, its eyes taking in the small band sheltering not far behind the purple one, and then… it saw Blue. The human. The human… The zek’s movements faltered, those cold blue eyes narrowing to cruel slits. A curious hooting sound abruptly emanated from its throat that sent a chill of terror through Lyra’s heart. “I don’t think it’s friendly,” she muttered. “Parchment, get away from it!”

Parchment however, ignored her. “Stand down,” he repeated, more forcefully this time. “Return to your patrol.”

For a second or two the zek seemed to ponder Parchment’s order, knitting its enormous brows in what passed for thought in the hulking monstrosities brain. It clearly knew him, or at least gave the appearance that it did, but there was something more to that animalistic face, something about the way it stared at Blue, some… some vague or abstract form of recognition perhaps? Maybe somewhere in that tiny brain it knew who he was, or at least retained a dim memory of-

Blue recognised the danger before the others did. Be it military training or perhaps no more than a gut feeling, his yell of warning made everypony jump in alarm. “SHIT! Get down!”

It was too late. A hairy paw the size of a steam shovel swatted Parchment away, effortlessly sending the helpless stallion into the wall like a child’s rag doll. With a howl of rage the red stained axe came up and the beast wielding it began a lumbering run straight towards the focus of its rage - Blue.

“DOWN!”

Celandine’s command cut through the din. Beside her Lyra lay flat to the floor, Blue ducking and rolling aside just in the nick of time. Over his head the cannon fired three times in rapid succession. Three deafening dull thuds of excruciating sound that shook the entire corridor, simultaneously rattling Lyra’s teeth and blotting out everything around her. The world before her burst into vivid flame, darkness, flame, darkness, flame… then red. Lyra screamed, throwing her forelegs over her eyes to try and block out the searing light.

BOM. BOM. BOM.

That sound! That awful, awful sound! It was so steady, so methodical, as if it were no more than an unfathomably large piece of machinery beating out its demoniac song to the direction of its hellish conductor. It was a song alright. A song of death. Hot brass shell casings pinged onto the metal floor, rolling away into the corridor from whence they’d come. As for what was before them…

“Oh… Oh, Celestia...” Lyra was pulled to her hooves by the armoured mare who went to check on Blue. Then, somewhat reluctantly, to Parchment. Lyra nodded her thanks just before her stomach emptied itself. She could barely stand, her legs were shaking so much they felt like jelly. But that was nothing compared to what that… that thing had done to the zek. ‘Jelly’ was the right word.

“You okay?” Blue’s eyes met Lyra, his hand taking her head as he checked her for injuries. He noticed her staring. “Don’t look at it,” he said firmly. “Lyra, listen to me, look at me. Look at me!” Blue’s words finally broke through her shocked daze and she tore her eyes away from the quivering mass of…

“I… I’m okay,” she managed.

“You’re not,” Blue corrected, passing her a drink from his flask. “It’s a god damned nightmare, Lyra, but it was either him or us. If Celly hadn’t shot it we’d all be like that. Do you understand?” Lyra nodded, taking another swig of the water. “Good girl.” Blue slapped her on the rump making her start, “Come on, get your shit together and let’s move out. If we stay here we’ll be in a whole world of hurt.”

Like they weren’t already! Suddenly Lyra paused, “What about Parchment? Where is he?” She’d lost sight of him in the excitement. Between the bright flashes, the high pitched whining in her ears as well as the huge mass of guts that had once been a living creature, everything had gone from rust red to a red that she hoped she’d only ever see again in nightmares.

Parchment himself was nearby, so covered in the innards and body parts of what had once been a zek it was hard to tell where pony began and visceral remains ended. Celandine was already at his side, trying her best to examine him. “He’s a mess,” came the reply. She shook her head and glanced at Blue. Her expression said it all, “I don’t think he’s going to make it.”

Blue’s features hardened, “Damn it.”

Lyra’s ears pricked up at that last utterance. “What? What are talking about?” She dragged herself forward, all thoughts of her own less than ideal state vanishing in an instant. Lyra quickly joined the armoured mare beside the barely breathing unicorn stallion. Trying not to think about what her hooves were walking through right then she pulled a piece of intestine away from the young ones flank, doing her best to see where he was hurt. Damn it all, why did he have to be purple? Blood was… well it was everywhere! Trying to hold her stomach back from emptying itself right then and there she gave herself a shake. She’d come this far, he couldn’t be dying, right? After all, he was the reason she’d come to this hell hole in the first place. To die would just be… well, it would just be stupid. Stupid and selfish. Yes, that was it, he was just be a stupid, self centered child. Your typical teenager really. Lyra huffed loudly, “He just got knocked about, that’s all. Right, Parch?”

The purple stallion made a faint gurgling sound before making an attempt at swallowing the water Celandine was trickling into his mouth. He lay worryingly still, crumpled up where he’d fallen after smashing into the wall. One of his two large eyes had swollen shut and blood trickled steadily from his nose. “Lyra...” Parchment winced, fighting with all his might to stay conscious. “Lyra, listen...”

“Oh no!” Lyra shook her head, “No way, mister! If you think I’m having one of those death bed confession things you can forget it! I know how this shit ends. So you get your damned rump in gear, get on those lazy bone idle hooves of yours and lead us-”

“I’m dying, you… you idiot.”

“You’re-?” Lyra froze. “Not today you’re not. Nope, Blue here will get you up and between us-”

“You’ll never make it carrying me.” Parchment’s one working eye stared into hers, “I won’t make it.” He paused, taking a breath. “Lyra, please, when you get back to Equestria, look up my folks and tell them… tell them...” A sudden cough took him, spraying blood which only blended in with the rest that bathed the hallway. “Tell them something, anything, but don’t tell them I died like this. Just… tell them I love them, and that I’m sorry.” He tried a smile, the first Lyra had ever really noticed him make. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“I dragged myself into this,” Lyra replied anxiously. She felt a tear welling up, “Gods above, Parch, you shouldn’t be here! Neither of us should. This was my fault. I should have put a guard on that damned portal, and instead what was I doing? Pissing about with a bunch of cock-heads at a bloody night club!” Lyra squeezed her eyes shut, “And here you were, trying to survive on your own for six months before I even got here! What help have I been since then, eh? Celestia’s mercy, I’ve caused all of this!”

Parchment watched her with his one good eye. “It wasn’t six months.”

“What? It was longer?” Lyra frowned in surprise.

“Time dilation,” Parchment wheezed painfully. “I told you it was six months. It was… It was really... twenty one years.”

“Pfff! Yeah, right! Like of course it was!” Lyra felt a smile of her own passing over her lips. If Parchment could still joke, then maybe that meant there was hope for him. Right? And then she saw the look in his eye. “Now wait a minute, you can’t be serious!”

“The reason I didn’t tell you is… is because I’ve been taking the ‘medicine’,” Parchment explained. “The life essence of other... creatures. Creatures like… like the human.”

Lyra instinctively turned to Blue who was sat there beside Celandine watching the corridor ahead of them. If he’d heard what Parchment had said then he wasn’t letting on, but there was something in his demeanour that suggested he’d heard enough. More than enough. She couldn’t imagine what he must have been thinking about the whole ‘medicine’ business after he’d found out what it was and, more importantly, where it came from. When you considered that his own mare had been drinking that stuff then it didn’t bear thinking about.

“I knew what it was, Lyra,” Parchment breathed. “I knew. Not at first of course, but after the Maester, after Galeus took me into her confidence, she brought me down here and showed me… everything.” He gave an ironic snort that turned into an agonised bout of coughing. “But even when I knew, I still did it. I still could have stopped. I could have… I could have warned you.”

“Oh, Parchment...” Lyra’s ears drooped, “You may be older than me, but you’re still just a silly kid who stuck his muzzle into something that should have stayed buried. Gods, no wonder those suits wanted to blow the damned thing up.”

“And yet you still came to get me,” Parchment smiled faintly. “Thanks.”

Thanks? Goddess forgive her, he was thanking her. Thanking her! Lyra felt a wave a hysteria grabbing at her, the sheer madness of the situation trying to drown her in a sea of insanity. Part of her wanted it to. Part of her wanted to start screaming, screaming and running around until it all just went away.

A detonation from somewhere shook a plume of dust down from the vents. Celandine looked up, “Blue?”

The human nodded, “We need to move. Parchment?” Celandine merely shook her head. Despite everything, Blue gave the young stallion a sad look, “Sorry kid.”

Parchment nodded to him, “Take the next corridor on the right. Keep heading straight until you see a long flight of stairs.” He winced painfully, “When you… When get to the top, take the right turn until you reach the metal doors. You’ll see a hatch in the floor there that will take you into the drainage system. Follow the pipes marked with the yellow paint. Keep going through there and it’ll take you to the caves on the coast.”

Blue turned to Celandine who answered with a, “I know the caves. They flood every high tide.”

“Not if you go now,” Parchment wheezed.

“What about the main gates?” Blue asked. “If the citadel is under attack they may have blown the main gates to-”

Celandine placed a hoof on his shoulder. “They came in by pegasus,” she confirmed. “But the only way to get back up there is through them.”

“Them?” As Blue looked to see where his mare was motioning, he saw the shadowed images of zeks fighting with ponies. “If we help them they’ll-”

“They’ll kill you.” Celandine stopped him with a hoof on his chest. “Love, I said I didn’t trust Lode Stone, and you’ll have to trust me on this. Don’t trust his ponies.”

As if in answer there was a loud crack of rifle fire and a high pitched whizzing sound as the bullet ricocheted off over their heads. “Let’s move!” Blue checked his pistol and took the lead. He paused, “Lyra, leave him! For God’s sake we haven’t got time!”

“NO!” Lyra shook her head frantically, “I can’t leave him here like this! Those bastards will-” She froze as a blood stained hoof pressed against hers.

“Lyra...” Parchment smiled that oddly gentle smile of his, “Please… One of us has to make it. Please...”

She didn’t like it. She didn’t like it all! Panic snatched her just as armoured forelegs embraced her, hauling her off the ground. “No! Damn it, let me go!” Lyra’s hooves stretched, kicking frantically, “LET ME GO!”

Celandine suddenly slammed her against the wall, driving the air out of her lungs. The yellow mare’s armoured faced pressed into hers, “You want to die? Sure, I can leave you here, I don’t mind that. You can stay here with your little pal and see how long you can both last. But as for me, I want to live, and more importantly, I want him to live.” She nodded towards Blue, “I live for him, and only for him. If you endanger him I will leave you behind without a second thought. Do you understand?”

Lyra swallowed, “But Parchment-”

“Is FUCKED!” Celandine slapped a hoof across Lyra’s face as her eyes bore into her, “Last chance, you dumb bitch. Stay and die, or come with us and live. Your choice.”

And with that she took a step back and Lyra dropped to the floor. Helplessly the green mare looked towards Parchment who waved a hoof at her to go. It was like waving somepony off at a railway station. Something so simple, so completely innocent. She’d never forget that look in his eyes, so accepting of it all. She’d come here to rescue him when really, really he hadn’t needed rescuing at all. The one who’d really needed help was her. And here Celandine was offering it, and- Celandine? Lyra blinked. She was alone. Alone with a dying stallion, and… “Shit...” Lyra nearly ran right into the back of Celandine’s armoured rump as she rounded the corner in a fear driven rush to catch up. Behind her she could hear shouts, the animal rumblings of what was no doubt the zeks, and gunfire. Lots of gunfire. She would have been amongst that now. Amongst it with Parchment. Poor, poor Parchment. Something stung Lyra’s eyes and she reached up to brush it away with a hoof. It was wet, and red. Tears soaked her fur, mingling with the blood. Whether it was hers, Parchment’s, or the zeks, she had no idea. Right then all she wanted was to do get the hell out there as fast as equinely possible.

The rest of the journey down the darkened corridors was a nightmare of flashes, noise, and screams. Some of it was her, but mostly it was emanating from the battle raging unseen somewhere within the maze that was the citadel. True to Parchment’s word, they were indeed taking a route away from most of the fighting. Most, but not all. She couldn’t understand it; this was supposed to be a raid to get medicine wasn’t it? If so, then why was the fighting so… so intense? And they were everywhere too! There seemed to be small pockets of conflict dotted throughout the citadel, giving her the impression the invaders had split up into smaller groups. They’d seen fleeting glimpses of them as they’d run, and had also come across the carnage they’d left behind them. Lyra had recognised some of the dead ones too. They were familiar, but only in the sense that it was somepony you’d seen walking past you one day, or mowing the lawn, or else doing some other mundane task you didn’t pay much attention too. And now, whoever they were, they were dead. What had they done to deserve this terrible fate? Goddesses, she had been tasked with letting the tribals in, and if she had, would they have still gone on the rampage like this? Had she inadvertently started something more? As the cannon fired once more and she covered her ears as best she could, Lyra couldn’t help thinking that this was what being in a full blown war must be like. ‘Terrifying’ didn’t even begin to describe it. Celandine on the other hoof was the complete polar opposite – the armoured mare looked like she’d been born to this kind of existence. The way she moved in tandem with her human, the way he would slip forward, indicate a target, and Celandine would… would ‘deal with it’, was as terrifyingly efficient as it was utterly horrifying to witness. As Celandine herself had said, the yellow mare didn’t care who or what was in their way. Despite her earlier affinity with the tribe, or so Lyra had presumed, Celandine obliterated anything and everything in their path with barely a pause. Her eyes were cold. Emotionless. Ruthless. Was this how warriors had been in the past? Or had ponies always been so… so brutal? Nowadays they were little more than colourful, happy go lucky creatures who lived lives full of song, joy and magic. How far below that surface lurked the killing machines of history? How far would you need to dig before you unearthed the killer, the… the Celandine within? Was there one inside her? And what about Bon Bon? She was involved with government agencies that did… whatever it was they did. In fact she’d had a taste of that when those suits had turned up at the dig site. They were certainly ready to kill, and with the same blank, heartless expression that Celandine bore now. What you could see of it beneath the armour anyway.

BOM. BOM. BOM.

Again and again. Halt. Duck down. Three blasts. Get up. Move. And repeat. Again and again and again. This was the ‘quiet’ route, right? And dear goddesses, would she ever be clean again? More to the point would her hearing ever be the same? She’d jammed some toilet paper she’d found into her ears, but that awful high pitched whining was getting worse. She’d encountered it before of course, usually when she’d been to a particularly loud gig and was on her way home afterwards. Conversing with friends in increasingly loud voices had become the norm now, at least until the noise abated. Naturally she’d spoken to her family about it. Her mother had warned her about the danger of long term damage to her hearing, but she’d always laughed it off as if it were just an old mares tale. After all, it usually cleared up by morning after a nights sleep. Right now it felt as though it would never, ever go. She flinched; the noise, the flashes, the blood, and the screams were ever present. Whichever way you looked the telltale signs of battle lay scattered like sand before the winds, and carrying sounds that nopony should ever have to hear. Thank the gods for toilet paper! At least it helped to block out the worst of those blood curdling cries of pain and distress which erupted every time Celandine’s cannon spoke. Mercifully they weren’t her screams, but by the goddess she felt like howling at the nightmarish images she couldn’t help but stare at in open mouthed horror.

“This must be it.” What was that? Lyra’s attention was pulled to the sound of Blue’s words. They seemed to hang in the air somehow, offering hope where she’d thought there was none. The human hauled on one of the metal doors with the aid of Celandine’s earth pony strength. “Lyra, watch our back while we get this open,” he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Watch their…? Lyra looked over her shoulder then back again, struggling for words. All she could manage was a strangled, “But-!”

“Do you know how to open locks?” Blue asked, quickly glancing up at her.

“No, but-”

“Here.” Blue grabbed something from over his shoulder and threw it to the surprised green unicorn. “If anything comes round that corner, give it a burst.”

“Burst?”

“Point that end at it and pull the trigger,” Celandine instructed quickly. “Understand?”

“Y- Yes, but-” It was no use. The two of them began fiddling with the lock on the door leaving Lyra dumbfounded. Apparently Parchment had either not known about there being a lock or had simply forgotten to tell them. It was too late to go and chastise the poor sod now anyway, and Celandine was discussing with Blue the possibility of blowing the lock off with the cannon. The human expressed doubt, and felt that he wanted to be able to lock the door behind them. Leaving them to it, Lyra’s attention slipped between them and the opposite ends of the corridor junction which they were now right in the middle of. The sounds of battle were getting louder all the time, the thumps of explosions reverberating throughout the entire citadel. Lyra began to wonder if the whole crazy structure would simply give up the ghost, the rusty mass collapsing in on them like a deck of cards to crush them all to pulp. It wasn’t a comforting thought. She stared at the black thing in her hooves which Blue had given her and flopped against the wall, turning it over and over. It was made of steel, that much was certain, with a peculiar material for the handle. Clearly made of humans, or perhaps some other creature with hands, it was surprising that a pony had managed to use this thing at all, let alone work out out how it operated. Unicorns wouldn’t have too much trouble of course. Lyra’s magic was good with object manipulation, which was an essential talent for any musician, and-

Thwing...

Something hit the wall, sending red hot fragments spattering across Lyra’s neck. She let out a yelp and dropped to the floor, trying with all her might to make herself as flat as possible. There was a loud crack followed by voices, voices approaching from the far end of the curving corridor to her left. The voice were equine, and definitely equestrian.

“You there!” a voice rang out. “Are you-”

“It’s her!” another bellowed. “The traitor and her human!”

Lyra knew what was coming next.

“KILL THEM!”

Bullets pinged all around the green unicorn who instinctively covered her eyes with her forelegs, the weapon forgotten. “Stop it!” she cried, “STOP IT!”

“Lyra, keep them off us!” Blue’s voice came fast and urgent. “I’ve nearly got it.”

Lyra wanted to help. She wanted to do something, something to help, but what? It was one thing shoving an alien weapon into her hooves and demanding she shoot the thing at an enemy, but doing it was quite another. These were ponies for Celestia’s sake, and even if they were shooting at her and her companions, she couldn’t just kill them! She couldn’t-

“Lyra, for Lode’s sake, shoot back!”

The green mare dropped a hoof and stared at Celandine with a wild expression, “I… I CAN’T!” Lyra’s mouth went dry, her body shaking with terror. “I don’t know what to do!”

Celandine heaved on the heavy metal door, straining as hard as she could with Blue similarly turning a bright shade red with the extraordinary effort. “Use your magic!” the yellow mare gasped, “You saw me using a gun, right? Do the same!”

“It…” Lyra swallowed, “I’m not a soldier!”

“You don’t need to be,” Celandine forced out, pushing her back into the rusted door. “I wasn’t, but I do what I have to when it comes to-”

A yell of pain from Blue pulled both of the mares up short. “I’m okay,” the human hissed. Blood trickled down his arm from a nick on his shoulder. Celandine stared cold fury at Lyra, who quickly turned her attention back to the gun lying on the floor. With a deep breath, a very shaky breath it has to be said, she concentrated her magic on the strange device. It looked different to the one Celandine had used, but she knew enough to know which end to point and what the ‘trigger’ was. Yellow magic shone, a pair of remarkably life like facsimiles of a human’s hands taking up the gun. One hand wrapped around the handle, the around around the metal box that hung down before it, and squeezed.

Lyra had been around guns enough now to know what was likely to happen. What she wasn’t prepared for however was the recoil, the flash, and the noise so close to her face. She nearly dropped it. The ponies at the other end of the corridor on the other hoof, did drop. Two hit the ground, yelling to their fellow who ducked into cover as the hail of bullets swarmed all around them. Had she hit one? Gods she hoped not! Anyway, if she didn’t look then she couldn’t, right? It was enough to make a noise and make them hide. Hey, and it seemed to be working too! Lyra let go of the trigger, letting the two ponies join their fellows. Now this really was easy!

“One more shove, Celly, okay?”

Somepony stuck their head around the corner and Lyra gave the trigger another squeeze. The rat-a-tat of the human weapon was strangely intoxicating, gradually filling the young mare with an increasing sense of excitement. Excitement, and power. By Celestia’s horn, if she could make ponies do what she wanted with just a little squeeze of this tiny lever, then imagine what she could do back in Equestria with it! Those rats in the Cinder Club would get what they deserved alright. Especially that smug, self satisfied shit house ‘Mike’ and his young tart. Dumb little bitch, she’d be ridden senseless by those damned bucks and be up the stick in no time. Let’s see how long the taste of stardom lasted when she had a foal on the way!

“COME ON YOU BASTARDS!” Lyra let out a roar of laughter as the sub-machine gun opened up once more. Yells echoed around the corridor, followed by the return fire of a stallion who soon ducked back when one of Lyra’s bullets hit his own weapon. She laughed even louder at that.

“What, you don’t want to come and play?” she called. “Come get some!” She fired again, sending more bullets hissing towards their target with every squeeze of the trigger. Empty brass cases, hot and smoking, fell like rain around her hind hooves. Lyra was still laughing when she suddenly realised the gun had stopped firing. She blinked in surprise, staring down at it. What had happened? It was alright a second ago. Why wasn’t the damned thing-

“She’s out of ammo!” the answer came from along the corridor. “Rush her!”

Lyra opened her mouth to swear, nearly choking on her tongue as arms abruptly grabbed her and pulled the surprised green unicorn down into darkness. She did scream then. Memories of the awful beast Thirty-Thirty were still haunting the edges of her memory even now. But these arms were smoother, muscular certainly, but wearing a tan shirt that only one creature she knew wore. It was Blue, closely followed by Celandine who paused to let fly with a thunderous blast of fire from the cannon. Lyra duck as the huge empty cases dropped by her into the darkness down the stone steps. Wait… Stone? She didn’t have long to ponder as the metal doors slammed shut behind her and Blue slid the bolts home.

“Christ, I thought we were done for then.” The human closed his eyes and took a breath, helping Celandine out of her harness, “You out?” The yellow mare nodded in reply, drawing a shotgun from a holster on her side and leaving the heavy cannon beside them. The majority of her armour soon followed.

“Are you leaving that behind?” Lyra asked in surprise. “We might need it!”

“Only if it can work on fresh air,” Celandine replied, passing her a draught of water. “No ammo, no bang.”

“Don’t we have any more ammo?” Lyra held up her own weapon for inspection. “If those guys come after us...”

“If those guys have got enough firepower to get through that door then that sure as hell won’t stop them,” Blue answered. “And I’ll be taking that, thank you.” He deftly took the sub-machine gun from the surprised mare.

“Hey!”

“Never mind ‘hey’,” Blue retorted. He took out the old magazine and fed in a fresh one he fished out from his jacket pocket. “We’ve only got one left, and we don’t need a trigger happy lady going all Bonnie and Clyde on us.”

“Who?” Lyra frowned, “Oh, you know what, never mind. Just… Just, let’s get out of here, okay?”

Celandine, divested of her heavier gear, pushed forward, racking a shell into her shotgun. “You heard the mare, let’s go.”

Lyra looked at Blue who just shrugged, “Fortune favours the bold, eh?”

“Hmm, apparently so,” Lyra groaned, the adrenalin fading from her limbs as the cold and dark of the tunnel began to make its presence felt. Thank the goddess that Celandine had a small torch built into her helmet. It didn’t do much to illuminate the tunnel as such, but it did help her to keep her footing and provide a focal point. Eventually after several minutes of walking she asked, “You think they’ll be coming after us?”

“No.” Celandine answered the question herself, “They’re too busy trying to topple the queen of the castle to be bothered with the likes of us.”

“But I thought they were just after the medicine?” Lyra asked in surprise.

“She’s right, Love,” Blue added. “This has gone way beyond a quick smash and grab raid. That’s some serious firepower they’re packing there.”

“It is.” Celandine plodded on, dodging past some roots which had squeezed their way into the damp tunnel, “Pick up the pace. If we don’t get out soon this tunnel will flood and we’ll have to back track to the higher part until it drops again.”

Go back?! Lyra felt a lump in her throat, “Sod that!”

“Yeah, so let’s hussle!” Celandine lifted up her hooves, breaking into a trot. Blue struggled somewhat to keep up, with the yellow mare glancing back over his shoulder to make sure he was managing. He smiled back at her, but Lyra could see the strain in his eyes. Blue had been through hell and back, and as much as the life energy had boosted his physical condition, it was by no means back to anywhere near normal.

“I never trusted that Lode Stone guy,” Blue remarked, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Something about him gave me the creeps.”

“He’s as old as Galeus,” Lyra said.

“I’m not talking about his age,” Blue corrected. “It was in his eyes when he saw me that time. He looked at me as though I were a bug under a microscope or something. Christ almighty, that guy would make Jack the Ripper look tame.”

“Whoever that is,” Lyra muttered.

“Famous human murderer,” Celadine answered succinctly. “One of many apparently. He liked to carve his victims up into neat little portions.”

“Anyway,” Blue cut in quickly, “I had the impression his ‘nicey-nicey’ game was just a front for some bigger ideas he had simmering away on the back burner. His type always do. Reminded me of a certain little Austrian we had to kick the stuffing out of in forty five.”

Lyra rolled her eyes, “Does he go on like this with you?”

Celandine grinned, “Always. Anyway, he’s got a point. I didn’t like what I saw around Lode Stone’s village. There were way too many weapons in there for what he was talking about, and the citadel had never made any punitive raids into the caves in living memory. No, that old swine was up to something, and I had a feeling it involved a lot more than just getting his hooves on some of the medical supplies.”

“You’re talking about taking over the citadel?” Lyra shook her head in amazement, but after what she’d seen back there, it was the most obvious answer. “The cost in lives...”

“Would be a price he was willing to pay,” Celandine answered. “He may not have said it, but he coveted Galeus’s position. We all knew it, especially the villagers. Speaking of whom, they’re waiting for us at the cove.”

“Waiting for us?!” Lyra felt a shock of alarm run through her. She’d never met them, but she’d heard enough to know that she never wanted to go near the place.

Blue gave her a wink, “Don’t worry, it’s all part of the big plan.”

“Big plan?” Lyra stared at him, “What ‘big plan’?”

“If the shit hit the fan we had a ‘Plan B’,” Celandine called back. “You’ll see. Now belt up and… Shit!” The yellow mare slowed down, staring at the ground. Water reflected in the beam of her torch. “Damn it, we have to move! Blue, get on!”

“On it.”

“Lyra, I don’t know what you’ve got left in the tank, but now’s the time for it.” Blue leaped onto the back of his mare and threw his arms around her neck. Celandine in turn broke into a full gallop with her human flattening himself along her back to avoid hitting the low ceiling. Lyra, for her part, hadn’t understood exactly what Blue’s words meant, but the urgency within them was as clear as day. The tide was starting to come in.

“I thought we had more time,” Blue called out.

“So did I,” Celandine answered quickly, lowering her head. “Pointless complaining about it now.”

“We could go back, couldn’t we?” Lyra queried from the rear.

Celandine snorted loudly, “We’d never make it in time. Did you see the tide marks back there?”

Truthfully Lyra hadn’t paid the walls all that much attention. In her rush to put as much distance between the fighting and their party as possible, all she’d focussed on was getting the hell out of there. Now, with the water noticeably rising along with the heady smell of salt water, there was no time to speculate on ‘what if’s’. The party were running hell for leather now, the sound of water sloshing and splashing around their thundering hooves all she could hear over the hammering of her heart. The temperature was dropping too. For such a hot place, down here it felt damp, dark, and held a distinctly sinister feel which wasn’t doing anything for Lyra’s peace of mind. Add to that the fact that none of them had any idea how long this tunnel was, and the only pony who could have told them was dead and… Oh gods, poor Parchment. He hadn’t deserved that. Nopony deserved to die like that. She gave herself a shake, throwing the intrusive thought aside. Speed was what mattered here. As much speed as she could muster.

In the crazed light of the flashlight the three ran on. Shadowed outlines of cut stone blurred past them as the water splashed up their legs, slowing them down. Before long it was up to their knees, then, horribly, almost up to their chests. With the upward increase in the slope of the tunnel, the strength sucking effort was becoming too much. Hooves dragged on the stone floor, barely contacting the ground. The ceiling bumped their heads, particularly for Blue who had now pushed himself off Celandine’s back as his weight had threatened to drown her. One step at a time they moved forward in the darkness: pushing, heaving, straining against the inrushing water, the vicious cold and the ever present spectre of complete exhaustion. Lyra felt the sting of panic grip her heart. The thought of never seeing Equestria again, of seeing Bon Bon, her friends or her family again, pulled at her. If she died here, if she drowned in this dark, unlit realm, who would ever know she had died? Gods, she didn’t want to die here. Not here! With a splutter of air and water, Lyra focussed her magic and conjured up the golden yellow pair of hands that she took so much pride in. With them she grabbed at the stone floor, using the magical projections as massive paddles, dragging and shoving her and her friends forward with surprising momentum. Despite the combined efforts of the trio, the extraordinary force of the inrushing water repeatedly pushed them back down, the combination of magic and will power driving the three of them forward only to be drive back into the black, choked tunnel. Time, as much as it mattered, seemed to halt for Lyra as she blinked the stinging salt spray from her eyes. And goddesses, how she prayed right then. Prayed for a miracle. She had to get out of here. She had to get out! Then, as if in answer to those very prayers, Celandine let out a cry.

“Light!” the yellow mare called. “I can see daylight!”

She was right. Ahead of them the bright sunlight was starting to cut through the darkness into the tunnel. With that call of encouragement, the three poured their last reserves of strength into the push towards the sun of the goddess, and salvation. They were all yelling at once now, shouting words of hope, encouragement, and appeals for ‘one more push’ to reach the glorious open air. Seconds passed, seconds that felt as though they would stretch off into an eternity of endless struggle. And then they broached. Celandine was the first, followed almost immediately by Blue and Lyra, the three gasping, choking, howling their joy to the world as they sucked in the life giving air of the world. It wasn’t over yet however, as the three were swimming against the pull of the water being drawn into the tunnel by the incoming tide.

“THERE!” Blue yelled. “Head for those rocks, everyone. Celly, can you reach them?”

Celandine, now completely divested of her armour, answered her lover by turning towards the slick, water soaked outcropping. It was little more than a collection of large weathered rocks, but anything that could get them out of this damnable water would be as miraculous as the day the first equestrian stepped hoof onto this wonderful planet. And step she did. Blue hung onto her tail but Celandine didn’t seem to mind. Single minded in her determination she scrabbled up onto the cold hard surface, water sloughing off her back like a snake shedding its skin. Without even so much as pausing for breath she reached back and grabbed the struggling human, all but throwing him onto the wide stone beside her. Lyra was next. At the very end of her strength, both physical and magical, the green mare coughed out a mouthful of water as she was hoisted by a combination of hands, hooves, and the last dregs of her own magic, up onto the rock beside her colleagues.

Celestia’s horn, she was so cold! Lyra could feel her body reacting with outrage to everything it had been subjected to in the last few hours. She was utterly bone weary, and mentally drained beyond anything she’d ever experienced before in her life. Letting out a small sob she started to shake, and as she did so Blue was there before her, helping to lift her up. “Please,” Lyra murmured, “Let me be, just for a few minutes. I… I need to rest before...”

“You stay here and you’ll end up with hypothermia,” Blue said in the same matter of fact manner that Parchment had used.

An image of the dying stallion, lying there covered in blood in that awful corridor full of gore and death, flashed across Lyra’s mind. Did she really want to end up like that? Alone, frightened, passing away with nopony to hold you? Fear surged into her heart, giving a surprising burst of strength that right up until then she’d thought impossible. Blue smiled to himself as he saw her surge to her hooves. Just a little encouragement and she was up beside Celandine who gave her a gentle, if rather soggy, nuzzle. Hell, they were all soaked. Somehow Blue had known that to leave Lyra there, to let her rest, as tired as she was, would likely lead to her never being able to get up again. Why, he wasn’t sure. His memory was as shot to hell now as it had been since the first day he’d woken up with a certain yellow coated mare standing over him. He could remember a lot even so, skills mostly, like how to play the guitar, how to work on electrical equipment, mechanical things and the like. He was very proud of that fact. As for who he was or anything about his family, he had nothing but a great big hole where that most basic of information should be. He wasn’t especially saddened about it, despite Celly’s concerns that he was suppressing his emotions on the subject. It was just that… well, how could you be sad about something you knew nothing about? He could have had a wife and child, maybe even multiple children, back in… wherever it was he was from. But if he didn’t know about them, then how could he miss them? The last things he remembered about how he got here were mostly snippets of imagery, sounds and the like. There were a few faces that he remembered, and names – like Forrest and William, or ‘Bill’ as his friends called him. He recalled the smiling face of one of them waving to him to hurry up, helping him up the ladder into the rear of one of the planes before anyone saw him. They’d had a spare position going as one of their number hadn’t turned up, been sick, or something like that. It was only a training mission anyway, nothing more, so what harm was there? The war was over and he’d missed the boat so to speak. Still, getting away from the books he’d studied on flying and actually getting into one of these warbirds was an opportunity he’d be a fool to miss. It was a punishable offence of course, but the boys hadn’t seemed to mind, finding his presence an amusing accompaniment during the flight. As for the brass, what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. All the other aircraft had full complements, were fully fuelled, and for all intents and purposes it should have been a simple case of flying from one nav point to the next and back again.

And then things had gone wrong. Horribly wrong.

“Blue, come on, we’ll warm up as we move. It’s not far now. Lyra, you keep it up girl, we’re nearly there.”

As the waves crashed around them, Blue recalled the howl of the wind outside the aircraft. Over the noise of the engine he could still here the crackle of the radio, the sound of confusion rising to shouts of frustration, anger, and then… and then the fear. The world pitched and rolled, the aircraft groaning and creaking as it was thrown by incredible forces it had never been designed to withstand. These forces from another world snatched at him and his friends, grabbing their flying machine and hurling them like a child throwing its toys, hurling out through a hole torn in the very fabric of the universe, and into a world of unfathomable nightmares. He had a vague memory of falling, a mass of trees lit by flashes of lightning, hitting something hard, a crashing, splintering sound, and then everything had gone black. When he’d woken up he was being tended to by a certain yellow coated mare. What a surprise that had been! But the rest, as they say, is history.

Sand crunched underfoot as they slipped and crawled over the rocks and out into the full sun of the morning. The sea seemed remarkably calm considering the violence with which it had thrown them all about only minutes earlier. But now there was warmth…blessed, blessed warmth! Blue thought he’d never been so happy to see that glorious orb cresting the horizon. But oh, for a change of clothes! He was soaked to the skin, and he had to fight the urge to peel them off and flop onto the hot sand in all his naked glory.

“You hear that?” Celandine asked.

Blue paused, bending over in an attempt to catch his breath. He glanced sideways at Celandine who looked as though she’d been out for a morning paddle. “Hear what?” he asked. “My ears are full of water still.”

Celandine lifted her muzzle, listening. “Gunfire,” she said quietly. “They’re still fighting back there.”

“Just as well we got out when we did then,” Blue replied. He screwed a finger into his ear. “There won’t be anyone left at that rate. Damn that Lode Stone, the guy’s cracked.” The human raised his head, fixing his mare with a meaningful look. “I told you I didn’t like you going there. Christ alive, you’re lucky you weren’t involved in that shit.”

Celandine frowned, “But I was involved in that shit, wasn’t I?” She grimaced, her brows drawing down. “Somepony had to pull your ass out of fire.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” Blue’s weary expression turned into a sardonic smile, and then a tired laugh. “Ha! We make one hell of a pair, eh?”

The yellow mare shrugged, her eyes twinkling in the sunlight, “As good as Bonnie and Clyde?”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Blue laughed, taking her in his arms. “Come here you, you’re under arrest.”

“You’ll never take me alive copper!” Celandine playfully pushed the human away, but Blue slipped past her whisking her up into his arms. He started to tickle her, raising at a first a chuckle, and then a helpless guffaw until she all but melted into him. “Okay, okay!” she rumbled throatily. “You’ve got me. I’ll come quietly.”

“Oh, I do hope not...” Blue murmured into her ear. He gave the furry appendage a playful nip, followed up by a kiss. And another.

“Ahem!”

The two paused. “Tch!” Celandine huffed loudly, rolling her eyes towards Lyra. “What’s wrong, you want to join us?”

“WHAT?!” Lyra’s face flushed a hot crimson. “NO! Bloody hell!”

Blue let out a sigh, “Guess we’ll have to put it on hold ‘til later, love.”

“Pff! Sod that, let her watch, I don’t mind.” Celandine raised an eyebrow towards Lyra, “You like to watch, don’t you?”

“Celly, please!” Blue pushed his mare away and gave her a pat on the rump, “Leave the poor girl alone. Look at her, she looks like hell. God almighty, we all do.”

“Humph!” Celandine snorted, “Alright, but you owe me one.” She glanced at Lyra, “Pity, you don’t know what you’re missing out on.” She frowned for a moment in thought, “Or maybe you do… sneaky, sneaky!”

“Oh, belt up!” Lyra snapped back. She looked around them, wary of anything potentially flying overhead. But other than a few brightly coloured birds of paradise, there was nothing of note. “Hey, do you guys have a plan for what we’re going to do now? I mean, not being an arse or anything, but they have a big portal back there that’s our ticket out of here.”

“You wanna go back there, be my guest,” Celandine sniffed.

Blue shot her a hard look before looking to Lyra, “Plan B, remember?”

“Yeah, I heard,” Lyra retorted. “But what’s that mean? It’s alright you being all mysterious over it, but for all I know it could be something suicidal that’ll get us all killed. You’re asking me to take a lot on trust here, Blue.”

The human shrugged, “True, but in all fairness, I was kinda winging it.”

“What, you mean you’re making it up as you go along?!” Lyra blinked in horrified realisation of what Blue was saying. “That’s ‘Plan B’? Bloody hell!”

“Hey, you’re alive aren’t you?” Celandine said with a toss of her wet mane. “Plan B seems to be working pretty damned well so far.”

“So far...” Lyra’s eyes widened.

“What?” Blue asked, frowning at her. “What can-”

Just coming into view around the sand dunes was a pony, closely followed by another, and another. They weren’t running, in fact they didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry at all, but they were definitely heading their way.

“We’ve got company!” Celandine exclaimed, backing up a step. “You got a gun on you?”

Blue shook his head, “Lost it back in the tunnel. You?”

“Dumped it with the last of the armour.”

“Ah… So, hooves, fists and magic it is then.” Blue sighed, “Lyra, you up for a fight?”

“Um, no?” came the reply.

“Run?” Celandine suggested.

Blue shook his head, “They’d be on us before we got twenty yards. We’re worn out, love. Look at Lyra, the poor girl can hardly stand, and I’m not much better.”

“I’m not that bad!” Lyra snorted. “Besides, I can magic us a shield,” she suggested. “That’ll buy us some time to get somewhere safe. Are we near the ship?”

Celandine shook her head, “Not near enough. Besides, we aren’t going back to the ship.”

“We aren’t? Why?”

“Too far. Besides, we have something else in mind,” the yellow mare replied. “This way!”

The three took off once again, but this time at a light jog. Further up the beach the newcomers raised a shout.

“I think they’ve seen us,” Lyra said, her hooves kicking up sand.

“Get that shield ready,” Blue prompted. “As soon as they get close, do your thing. I just hope it’s as good as you say it is.”

“We’re about to find out!” Celandine shouted. “Lyra, NOW!”

The golden bubble of magic flowed out to encompass the trio just in time to stop a spear bouncing off the expanding edge.

“I thought this lot were supposed to be the good guys,” Lyra huffed, following Celandine as she threaded her way between the sand dunes. “Guess they took me in hook line and sinker.”

“Don’t blame yourself, they did with all of us,” Blue called back.

“You suspected Lode Stone was up to something though,” Celandine reasoned. She looked around, spotted more of the tribals, and headed towards the treeline. “He may be my father, but he was always the leader first and foremost. The Hidden see him as almost divine, and as the only one who could keep us safe from the maester’s monsters. They’d follow him to hell if he asked them.”

“He may have done just that,” Blue replied.

“But why did they start shooting at us?” Lyra snorted. “I know he didn’t like Blue, but his goons started shooting the second they saw and shouted something. I can’t remember what-”

“It was ‘Traitor’,” Celandine nickered bitterly. “I’m afraid father had no intention of letting Blue leave the citadel alive, Lyra. I disagreed with that opinion and decided to take matters into my own hooves.” She raised an eyebrow at the green mare, “Once you’d let them in they intended to have you lead them to the maester’s rooms where they would kill her, and then force the ponies in the laboratory to destroy the portal.”

Lyra couldn’t believe it, “What? Destroy the portal?! Gods above, why would he want to do that? Is he insane?”

“No,” Celandine replied. “Far from it. He simply wants to rule, and after he removes the maester from the equation he’ll become the de facto ruler of the island. What use will the portal be then? He has everything he wants right here. He wouldn’t want to risk destabilisation of his rule by leaving, in a manner of speaking, the front door wide open.”

“It’s the very definition of the term ‘captive audience’,” Lyra murmured incredulously.

“Guess there were more monsters than just the Chocks on the island, love.” Blue flinched as a bullet zinged off the bubble, “Damned good magic you’ve got there, Lyra. Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Oh, you know, country clubs, bars and the like,” Lyra smiled.

“Jesus!” Blue shook his head, “That must be some audience!”

The tribals kept their distance, dogging the trio step for step. Realising their bullets and spears had no effect they’d hung back, content to remain observing for now.

“What do you think they’re doing?” Lyra asked.

“Watching where we’re going,” Celandine replied. She snorted, adjusting their direction to pick up what looked like a game trail. “They know that sooner or later your magic will run out of juice.”

“I’m good,” Lyra assured her.

Celandine glanced over her shoulder at the green mare, “You’re not. You’re tired out. We all are.” She tapped her head, “I’m not a unicorn, but I know that the last thing we need is you passing out from burnout. Pace yourself, but if you feel like you can’t continue shout out, okay?” Lyra nodded in reply. “Good. Now, we’re not far, so keep it up.”

“Where are going?” Lyra asked.

Celandine bobbed her head, “You’ll see for yourself in a few minutes. Now shush and concentrate on keeping that shield up. Blue, you okay?”

“Right with you, love,” came the reply.

The glance that passed between the two would have been heart warming to see. At least it would have been if Lyra hadn’t been so hopelessly tired that she wasn’t paying attention to anything other than following Celandine nose to tail and keeping the shield at full strength. She hated to admit it, but the yellow mare had been right; she’d seen straight through Lyra’s confident smile and realised her magic wouldn’t last as long as she’d intimated. Lyra sniffed. What did she know of her limits? It wasn’t as if they had any choice in the matter, was it? That lot behind them didn’t look like they were in the mood to take prisoners. But… what if they actually did? Both herself and Celandine had been on good terms with Lode Stone when they’d been in the caves, or at least they had been. Celandine was his daughter for goodness sake, and even if they didn’t see eye to eye, her father wouldn’t really want his girl killed, right? As for Lyra, well, sure she hadn’t ‘opened the door’ the way he’d wanted, but it wasn’t like she’d had no intention of doing it. Right? They’d gotten into the citadel anyway as it turned out, so it wasn’t like he hadn’t achieved his goal. The goal he’d told her about at least. It was clear the guy was aiming a lot higher than simply filling his pockets with as much ‘medicine’ as he could get his thieving mitts on. Then of course there was the matter of Blue. From what Celandine had said it sounded as though Blue would find himself right back in that laboratory again, slowly being drained of life until… until… Gods, it didn’t bear thinking about! Damn it all, she hoped they knew what they were… they were…

“LYRA!”

The shield faltered, flickering in and out of existence. A yell came from somewhere amongst the trees as a shot rang out, hitting a tree near Celandine and spattering the trio with splintered wood. Lyra swallowed, squeezing her eyes shut as she concentrated and brought up the shield once more.

“That’s it!” Blue snarled, “Up you come.”

To Lyra amazement the human put his arms around her and hoisted her up onto his back like a furry rucksack. He huffed loudly under the not inconsiderable load, “Put your forelegs around my neck and hang on. Celly, you okay?” The yellow mare nodded, glancing at Lyra who let out a heartfelt sigh of relief.

“That should buy us some time,” Celandine observed. She looked to Blue questioningly, worried about the way he was breathing heavily, “Are you okay? I could-”

The human simply shook his head, “I’m good. We’re nearly there anyway.”

Lyra closed her eyes, bouncing gently along on the human’s back and just letting it all happen. It was surprisingly comfortable truth be told, if somewhat warm and damp. It reminded her of her foalhood when her father would help her ‘fly’ through the air with the aid of his magic. Much to her mother’s horror it had to be said. Being so close to a human was something she could never have imagined, except perhaps in one of her more ‘graphic’ dreams. These were a guilty secret she kept even from her best friend, but she’d often wondered what it would have been like to have a human as a lover. Of course she’d never really thought something of that nature could ever happen in reality. Heck, she’d never been absolutely sure humans had even existed until she’d met Blue. And, as luck would have it, he was already spoken for. Perhaps it was just as well too, or else she may have considered indulging in what had once only been a fantasy. Once she’d crossed that line there would be no turning back. Or would there? After all she dallied with stallions whenever she fancied back home, and it was no concern of anyponies who, where, or what she did in her own free time. She smiled faintly to herself, enjoying the sensation of warmth spreading through her. What if Celandine’s offer to join them had been sincere? She was probably only joking, but what if she hadn’t been? Would she have said ‘yes’? By Luna’s fetlocks, he was so warm! His movement against her, the way his muscles rippled, rubbing her undersides just so…

“Hoy, keep that shield up there!”

Lyra started, her ears pricking straight up. She thought she was going to pee herself.

“Lyra, are you alright?” Blue called asked over his shoulder.

Lyra nodded, “Uh-huh.”

“You’re squirming around a lot. You’re not hurt are you?”

“No!” Lyra squeaked as the realisation of what she was actually doing caught up with her weary brain. Damn it all, what was wrong with her? “I… I’m fine, Blue. You can let me down if you like.”

“No way young lady,” Blue smirked. “You’re sticking with me until we get to where we’re going. In fact,” he grinned broadly, “we’re here. Best keep your head down a for minute, it’s going to get a touch noisy.”

The human clamped his hands over the mare’s ears as gunfire erupted around them like a storm breaking, unleashing a fury of leaden death that surged, ebbed and flowed. Inaccurate it may have been, but it had the desired effect, sending the encroaching tribals running for all they were worth with their tails well and truly between their legs. Lyra scarcely noticed, her muzzle still pressed into the human’s chest as he pulled her into him beneath the whizzing bullets. She grinned to herself, but sadly she knew that sublime moment of comfort wasn’t to last. With a heavy heart she let Blue help her to her hooves, whilst Celandine, who had a very peculiar expression on her face, walked past her to greet their very timely rescuers.

“Whisk!” Celandine shouted delightedly. A pink mare with a mint blue and white mane came into view through the trees. “Is Marzipan there too?”

“We’re all here!” the pink mare called over. “As many as would come.” She leaned to look past Celandine, exclaiming, “Boy, look at them go! Don’t think we’ll be seeing them here for a while.”

“It’s bought us some time,” Celandine smiled, “and that’s what we need right now.”

More ponies were starting to emerge from the trees. Some confidently strode towards Celandine to embrace her with smiles and hugs, whilst others were more wary, eyeing Blue with suspicion bordering on fear. Many of them were armed with a bewildering array of weapons that were clearly of human origin. Adaptations had been made to make them compatible with equine anatomy, which, Lyra was surprised to note, showed that almost with exception the newcomers were-

“They’re all earth ponies,” Lyra blurted automatically.

Blue nodded, brushing sand from his shirt. “They’re from the village,” he explained. “No unicorns or pegasi there, Lyra. The citadel takes them for its own.”

Cursing her big mouth, Lyra let out a sigh, “I remember Celandine saying. It’s just… y’know, a bit weird to actually see it?”

“You don’t have communities of just one type of pony?” Blue asked in surprise.

“Not since the war of the three tribes,” Lyra said with a shrug. “There may be odd little villages like that here and there, but it would be exceptionally rare.” She frowned, “Without a lot of inbreeding anyway.” Lyra shivered, “Celestia, what a thought!”

Drinks were quickly brought up for the weary trio, along with plenty of food and a pressing mass of equines eager for news. As the new girl amongst these ‘village’ ponies, Lyra was drawing almost as many stares as Blue. She dreaded to think what would have happened if Celandine hadn’t been there. They clearly knew her as one of their own, and if she trusted the human and the green unicorn, then that appeared to be enough to mollify them. Most of them at least.

“Everypony, this is Lyra of Equestria, and the tall guy is Blue, my husband.” A lot of murmuring rose up from the assembled ponies as the revelation of who these two were began to sink it. This in turn rapidly rose to a loud crescendo of questions. Celandine waved a hoof to quieten them down, “There’s time for introductions later,” she said offering an understanding, almost motherly, smile. “For now, the worst we feared has happened, and we will all have to do what we can to escape this place before we’re caught up in the fighting.”

“But we just fought them off!” one called out. He held up his rifle, the thing balanced beside his head by a curious contraption made of wood, wires and string. “With these things we could take the citadel ourselves! We wouldn’t have to toil in the fields any more.”

“Or have our kids stolen!”

“Yeah!”

“We can do it!” a young stallion shouted. “You should have seen that one run!”

“He would have run even faster if you’d actually been aiming at him,” another quipped.

There was a ripple of laughter from the rest until Blue shook his head, raising his hands in the air for quiet. “Friends, please, I know you don’t know me, other than what Celandine has told you of course, but trust me when I say that the fighting in the citadel is not something you want to get involved in. Any of you. They outnumber you, they have a lot more guns in there, and much more powerful ones too. The zeks alone could tear you in half with their bare hands.” One or two of the villagers paled as he continued, “The tribals under the command of Lode Stone wouldn’t hesitate to kill you either. You wouldn’t just be facing the maesters forces, you’d be fighting them too.”

There was short pause before one asked, “I thought they were on our side, weren’t they?”

“Weren’t you listening when Celandine spoke to us the other day?” a young mare replied.

The stallion shrugged, “Dunno, I was taking a shit.”

“You were taking a shit when we were talking about escaping from the island?!”

“Hey, when you gotta go you gotta go, yeah? No fun having a brown dog barking at the back door, if you know what I mean.”

“Gods help us! Who let this idiot in here?”

“But what about the fisher islanders?” one asked, mercifully changing the subject. “We can’t just leave them behind.”

“They had their chance,” an orange stallion snorted disdainfully. “They turned their backs on us years ago. To hell with them I say.”

“They’re still ponies!” an older mare retorted. “My grandfather and nephew are fishers. Do you think they had any more choice in how to live their lives than we did?”

“I don’t trust a pony who eats fish is all I’m saying.”

“They catch the fish to feed the zeks, you idiot! Lode help me, how have you lived this long when you’re so stupid?”

Celandine spoke now, “Please, everypony, we don’t have time for this.” She turned to the worried looking mare, “We can’t take everypony, Flax, as much as I’d like to.” At the disappointed murmuring she added, “But don’t give up hope. It’s my earnest wish that we once we escape we’ll find a way to come back for them - them and anypony else who wants to get away from this accursed place.”

“Praise be to Lode for that!” an oldtimer cheered.

“But what about the human?” a green earth mare asked warily. “We all know what they’re capable of. How do we know he won’t betray us and-..”

“You all know about Blue already,” Celandine assured her gently. “I know you haven’t met him before, or at least not all of you, but I ask that you put your trust in both of us to get our people to safety. Blue and Sparks have been working on getting us out of here for years now, and today is the culmination of all of that effort.” She frowned, “Speaking of which, where is Sparks?”

“He’s in the big bird,” came a reply from further back. “He told us to keep an eye out for you, but when we heard the shooting we came to see what was happening.”

“And I’m damned glad you did!” Blue laughed, hugging Celandine. That raised a smile from many. Some still clearly had reservations, but at least were willing to put their concerns aside for now. “Come on everyone, let’s get this show on the road.”

Chapter Eleven - Land, Sea, and Air

Lyra trotted along with the group of equines, heading ever deeper into the forest. The thought of chocks encroached on her earlier sense of relief at escaping both the citadel and the band of tribals.

“You okay, Lyra?” Blue asked, placing a hand on her mane. “You look worried.”

Lyra nodded, but looked up at him with a concerned smile, “Aren’t there chocks around here?” she asked.

Blue shook his head, “Not many. We have guard posts all around this area to keep them out, and anyone else who comes sniffing about.”

“Guard posts?” Lyra asked in surprise. Resignedly she shrugged, “You know, I don’t have a clue what’s going on, do I?”

“It’s only to be expected,” Blue said kindly. “You’ve not been on the island long, and you hadn’t even been to the village so far as I know.” When Lyra shook her head, Blue added, “Well, it would take a long time to explain the dynamics of everything that’s been happening, but basically it’s this...” He brushed a large branch out of the way ahead and grinned, “This is what we’ve been hiding. This, my equestrian unicorn friend, is our way off the island.”

“Oh… Oh, my goddess!” Lyra eyes went wide. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, let alone work out what it was. It was… Well, it was… “What is it?” Lyra asked breathlessly.

Blue let out a raucous laugh, “You’re the historian, what do you think it is?”

Lyra had to push her initial shock to one side while she tried to make sense of it all. It was easier said than done too. There before her, as the land dropped towards the naturally shielded bay, sat a huge metal something. Whatever it was, it was clearly far from being any equestrian made device, if ‘device’ was a word one could use to even vaguely describe so enormous a thing. One thing was for certain though, it bore many of the hallmarks of human design. In fact it looked for all the world like some enormous bird, or perhaps a dragon, with two gigantic wings that angled slightly towards the main body. The rear had two smaller wings that had fins of a sort that pitched inwards. Under each of the wings was a criss crossed structure that terminated with a large shoe like device. The two larger wings each held what she suspected were some form of propeller. She seen similar devices on equestrian airships, but they were as childs school projects compared to this. It was overall a dark blue colour, probably intended to match the sea, or in this case the bay in which it floated. The underside was a light grey, although why, she couldn’t say. Upon the upper surface were protuberances whose function was a mystery, although at each end were glass ‘bubbles’, with one in the middle, each one holding what were quite clearly more of the human ‘guns’ which they had a particular affinity with. There were words, numbers, and a large white star painted along the side she could see, all very much faded from exposure to the elements. Despite its apparent age however, care had clearly been taken to look after the great machine, with the numerous windows gleaming as the ponies scrabbling over the thing removed enormous amounts of leaves that had been woven into even larger nets.

“Is this what you came here in?” Lyra asked. “A flying machine?”

“This? No.” Blue shook his head, “The one I was in was much smaller. This one was, ironically enough, sent to look for us.”

“But… But they must have found you, didn’t they?” Lyra shook her mane from her eyes, trying to understand what had happened. “If your flying machine crashed, and this one came looking for you, the fact that it’s here and intact suggests that they…” Lyra frowned, “They didn’t find you, did they.”

Blue’s expression darkened. “Celandine found me and took me in, but these poor sods came through the same storm we did.” Blue pointed to one of the propellers, “One of their engines was damaged, flaming out as they came in by looks of it. When they came ashore they were collected by our ‘friends’ from the citadel.”

“So why didn’t they take their flying machine?” Lyra asked.

Blue shrugged, “Who knows. I found it washed up on the shore in the bay under a pile of trees and other crap from the forest that had been brought down during the storm. The pegasi probably wouldn’t have seen it, or if they did they may have thought it was just another pile of scrap like the rest. Besides, it isn’t like they’re short of metal, or guns for that matter.”

As they walked down to the shore Lyra noticed a lighter coloured patch behind one of the propellers. The metal was different there, showing evidence of recent repairs. Suddenly the reality of it hit her. “By Celestia,” Lyra breathed, “you think this thing will actually fly?”

“Uh-huh, I sure do,” Blue grinned.

“But, how long has it been here?” Lyra asked, ignoring the inquisitive stares as they walked down the enormous machine.

“As long as I’ve been here,” Blue shrugged. “And I’m still working.”

“Oh come on!” Lyra sniffed, “You can’t compare the two. It’s a machine. Machine’s break down.”

“Machine’s can be repaired.”

“So why not one of the ships?” Lyra asked. It would be a lot safer than trying to get that thing off the ground.”

“We thought of that,” Blue nodded. “But they’ve been there that long the hulls are badly damaged, and even if we could repair them we’d never get them off the beach. And then there’s the fact that nearly all the pegasi are either with the citadel or Lode Stone’s crew. They’d be all over us if it looked like we were making a break for it.”

Lyra’s eyes went wide, “And they wouldn’t in this?!”

Blue wagged a finger at her, “Ah, but with this we have the element of surprise, not to mention plenty of… ‘deterrents’. He pointed to the glass bubbles from which the wicked looking weapons protruded. “Look, Lyra, don’t worry yourself so much. We’ve been working on this for years now, and she’s ready to go. We were just waiting for the opportunity to take her out.”

“So...” Lyra frowned in thought, “So what you’re say is, you haven’t tested it?”

“How could we?” Blue reached the wooden pier that lead to a door in the side of the great machine. “We didn’t want to tip off the wrong ponies that we had this old girl.” He placed a hand lovingly on the metal, gazing up at the wing and it’s large propeller, “I think she’ll be okay.”

“She?”

“Heh, why not?” Blue chuckled. “I sure as hell wouldn’t want to get inside a guy.”

Lyra, still unsure about this whole business, followed the human in through the door, dodging past a steady stream of the villagers who were all hard at work making last minute adjustments to the alien craft. “You still haven’t said what it is,” she pointed out. “It’s obviously a flying machine, but the fact that it’s floating makes it part ship.”

“Which is precisely what it is,” Blue said. He ducked under a low doorway, passing racks of bunk beds. “It’s a flying boat.”

“Very original,” Lyra scoffed.

Blue rolled his eyes. “Well it does have a proper name of course,” he corrected, smiling at one of the ponies who was tightening something in the next compartment. “Damned if I can remember what it was, but it’s a flying boat alright. We had loads of them during the war. They were used for anti-submarine warfare, patrols, and air sea rescue. You know, that sort of thing.”

“Oh… Oh, of course they were, I should have realised.” Lyra rolled her eyes this time, letting it all go over her head. She had no idea what this ‘war’ was that the humans had been waging, but if they had machines like this, as well as the weapons and ships they could clearly produce in abundance, it was amazing that any of them were left.

“Sparks!” Blue stopped at the foot of a short ladder, shouting up towards an open doorway. “Sparks, you in there you lazy beggar?”

There was a clatter of metal, as though several object had been dropped on the floor. “Blue?” Suddenly an oil stained muzzle poked out of the opening, a pair of goggle perched atop the owner’s head. “Great gods, it is you! I thought you’d finally copped it. I was beginning to think I’d have to take her out on my own, old boy.”

“Hah! It’ll take more than a few hairy monsters to keep me down.” The human bounded up the steps, clasping the oily young stallion’s forehoof as he hugged the curious fellow to his chest. “Jesus, it’s good to see you again.”

“You too,” ‘Sparks’ replied, grinning broadly. His gaze dropped down to the green mare peering up at him. “Ah, this must be the new girl. Lyra, isn’t it? Celandine told us about her while you were off adventuring in the citadel.”

“Yeah, she’s a good kid that one,” Blue said, giving Lyra a wink. “She helped save my hide from those lunatics, and not a moment too soon either.” Sparks shook his head, grimacing at the thought. “So, how is she?” Blue asked.

Lyra thought he was talking about her until the stallion with the odd accent, ‘Sparks’ apparently, held up a hoof and lovingly touched one of the curved ribs of the aircraft. “I’d like a bit more time to run some more tests,” the stallion shrugged, “but if we need to go, then now’s better than never I’d say. The sun’s behind us, the sea’s calm, and we’ve got blue skies. All in all a good day to fly.”

Blue nodded in approval, “What about the modifications?”

“All done, or at least most of them,” Sparks said, moving aside to let Lyra up the ladder. “We’ve stripped out everything we could that was non essential.”

“You’ve taken things out?” Lyra asked feeling a little alarmed.

Sparks looked from Blue then back to the curious unicorn, “To make more room for our peeps of course,” he said cheerfully. “We’re already at our limit weight wise, let alone having to squash all that lot out there into every nook and cranny.”

“It’ll be a squeeze alright,” Blue agreed.

Sparks nodded with a shrug of his oily shoulders, “Better than the alternative.”

“Alternative?” Lyra asked, frowning.

“Staying here,” Celandine said behind them, making Lyra jump. “Lyra, can I see you a minute?” She looked past her, “We’ll leave you two boys to talk shop.”

Blue stuck his head back around the compartment door, “Where are you going?”

Celandine smiled thinly as she guided Lyra away, “Just girl stuff.”

“Well don’t be long,” Blue warned her. “I want us shoving off as soon as the last of the camo nets are cleared and the villagers stowed aboard.”

Celandine rolled her eyes, “Oh, don’t be such a worry wart. We’re only going for a natter.”

The yellow mare helped Lyra back out onto the dock which was a welcome breath of fresh air from the claustrophobic interior of the so-called ‘flying boat’. Lyra felt a shiver run though her even at the mere thought of being stuck inside the metal box when it finally began to move. Celestia’s mercy, being inside when the door was open was bad enough. Imagine what it would be like when the door was shut! That thing might look massive on the outside, but once packed with equines it was going to be far from pleasant. If anything went wrong then they wouldn’t have a hope in hell of getting out. In a moment this strange metal bird from another world could very well end up as a coffin for dozens of ponies, their bodies slowly rotting on the ocean floor, food for the countless denizens of the depths. Oh goddess, she was going to throw up…

“You look white as a sheet.” Celandine took Lyra to one side away from the milling villagers, “Are you okay?”

“Okay?” Lyra’s yellow eyes went wide, “Oh sure, why wouldn’t I be?” She held up a hoof, pointing at the aircraft towering over them. “Celestia’s buttocks, Celly, look at that thing, it’s a bucking death trap! It hasn’t flown in who knows how many years, and yet here we are, all lining up to get packed inside it like sardines and praying that the damned thing works! I know I said I wanted to get off the island, but I thought it would be through a portal, or a boat, or… or something sensible. Something normal. Not that thing!” Lyra jabbed a hoof towards the aircraft, “That is not normal!” She closed her eyes, feeling a wave of nausea flooding over her. “Gods help me, I… I’m going to be sick...”

“Do you want me to hold your mane for you?” Celandine asked plainly.

Lyra shook her head, “No, I don’t think I’ll…” Her hoof shot to her mouth as her cheeks bulged.

Celandine was there to comfort her as the expected emptying of the green mare’s stomach began in earnest, “Come on now, let it all go. That’s the way.” She stroked Lyra’s hair, shushing her as though she were a foal. “Shhh, you’ll feel better in a moment. There you go. There… Better now?”

Lyra wiped her mouth, nodding weakly whilst Celandine passed her a cloth and a cup of water, “I thought you might need these.”

“You’re...” Lyra winced, then washed her mouth out with another gulp of water. “You’re very well prepared.” She spat the fowl mixture out with no small amount of relief.

“Hah! I suppose I am,” the yellow mare grinned. Although there was little mirth in her eyes she appeared surprisingly gentle compared to the rough, tough talking mare Lyra usually saw in her. “I remember my first fight,” she continued. “I pissed myself. Literally stood right there and peed, right down my legs. Afterwards I puked my guts up over and over again until I thought I was going to pass out.”

Lyra squeezed a tear from her eye and wiped it away, “That wasn’t a fight back there, Celly, it was murder,” she said bitterly. “You blew those ponies apart.”

Celandine raised an eyebrow, “Oh? And what would you have done in my stead?” she asked. “Played them a song?” She snorted, sitting down on the sand beside the dock. “They wouldn’t have listened, Lyra, and the only encore you would have got would have been a bullet in your skull.”

Lyra turned to face her, “How do you know that? We didn’t even try to reason with them!”

Celandine returned her gaze with one of her own that brooked no argument. “No, ‘we’ didn’t,” she retorted firmly. “Neither would it have made any difference if we’d tried. Lode Stone’s crew were well beyond the boundaries of reasoned thought when they began mowing down everything and everypony in the citadel,” she continued. “When the battle is joined then ‘reason’ goes out of the window, closely followed by decency and morality.”

“How do you know that,” Lyra asked, frowning. “Have there been other uprisings here in the past?”

The yellow mare nodded bitterly, “Several, and they all ended the same way. Badly.”

“So what makes this one different?”

“Who said it was?” Celandine asked with a shrug of her shoulders. “The battle could go either way, but this I can assure you: whoever wins, we lose.”

“I don’t understand,” Lyra groaned. She felt her ears flop. “None of this makes sense. Goddess in their immortal heaven, the world’s gone stark raving mad!”

“I think we can both agree on that,” Celandine smiled unexpectedly. “Look, Lyra, whether it’s Lode Stone in charge or the Maester, ponies like the villagers and the Hidden always end up bearing the brunt of it. Both sides believe in what they are doing, and all we can do is keep out of their way while they go at it. Why do you think I became a finder?”

“But couldn’t we just wait it out?” Lyra asked hopefully, “I mean, once the dust settles we can-”

“No.” Celandine’s eyes were fixed firmly on the large tail of the alien machine. The way it rose out of the water gave it the appearance of urgency, of waiting, wanting, to take to the water and rise up into the sky. “It’s gone too far this time. You didn’t see the look in Lode Stone’s eyes, Lyra. He wanted blood, and he didn’t care whose it was so long as he got what he wanted.” She rolled her shoulders and sighed. “My father has always believed himself to be the rightful ruler of the citadel, and by extension all the ponies on the island.” Lyra said nothing. “Listen Lyra, I know you’re frightened. Hell, I was absolutely terrified when I went in there to find Blue, and to be perfectly honest with you I don’t want to get inside that damned thing any more than you do.”

“But-”

“It’s the only chance we have,” Celandine interrupted, rising to her hooves. “It’s up to you though. Neither Blue, nor I, nor any of the ponies here will force you to come with us. There is a space for you, but only if you want it.”

Lyra wasn’t sure what to think. She was very tempted just to go and hide somewhere and wait until the killing stopped and the world went back to what passed for normal here. That was assuming the chocks didn’t get her in the meantime, or the tribals, or the maester’s zeks… Hell, when it came right down to it, what choice did she really have?”

Celandine lay a hoof on her shoulder, “Lyra, about Parchment...” She closed her eyes a moment before continuing, “I know he meant a lot to you, as a student or whatever he was, but you can’t blame yourself for what happened to him.”

Lyra’s yellow eyes stared up at her, “I don’t. I wasn’t the one that… that did that to him.” She took a deep breath, “But it is my fault he came here, in a way. If I’d done my job properly and put a guard on that bucking portal in the first place he’d still be in Equestria. We both would.”

“Did you force him to walk through it?” Celandine asked simply.

“Force him?” Lyra let out a sarcastic laugh, “You already know I didn’t. The stupid little fool did that himself, but he...” She paused, lifting her muzzle. “Can you hear that?” Celandine’s ears pricked up as she turned to see what was causing the commotion. Whatever it was, it was coming their way.

“Scout coming in!” somepony shouted.

It was a pale blue coated earth stallion, racing full tilt towards them. Without so much as acknowledging their presence he all but flew past the two alarmed mares, tore up the dock and plunged into the aircraft in an impressive display of both speed and agility. Shouts came from inside almost immediately. One voice was Sparks, whilst the other was altogether more familiar. It was Blue. The human emerged from the doorway and began shouting orders.

“What’s going on?” Celandine called. “Are we under attack?”

Blue took out a small pistol and began loading it with a long cylindrical cartridge. “The fortress has been taken, or damned near,” he shouted. “The tribals got into the village and are killing everypony who won’t join them.” Holding the pistol upwards at arms length he pulled the trigger, and with a loud ‘thump’ sent a bright red flare high up into the sky where it burst like a small crackling sunburst. “Get yourselves inside and into position,” he called over to the other expectant looking ponies. “Dock crew make ready to cast off. Needles, get on the siren, we need to get the rest of the scouts in. Celery, leave anything that isn’t securely stowed behind and get everypony on board. Gunners to your stations.”

A loud bang, followed by a high pitched shrieking sound nearly had Lyra wetting herself in fright. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the source of the noise, and it wasn’t hard to miss either. A blast of smoke shot from one of the engines, closely followed by the four bladed propeller starting to turn. Soon it began to turn faster and faster, the sound changing subtly in both volume and pitch. As Celandine shoved her along the dock with the other ponies, the second engine began to fire up. Everything was vibrating now: the dock, the water, and closer to home - Lyra’s knees. She all but fell up the small flight of stairs to the door at the base of the tail section. Others filed in at another door near the front whilst ponies still on the dock began to remove the ropes that tethered the great machine to the land. The wail of a siren calling to the scouts to return mingled with the howl of the engines. Inside however, it was worse. The noise here was more of hollow roar, coming, as it seemed to Lyra, from everywhere at once. Ponies pushed this way and that, shoving themselves into various compartments or areas that were clearly never intended for four legged beings. And yet despite the seeming chaos of everything that was happening right then, there was a curious undercurrent of what Lyra could only describe as ‘order’ to it all. Somepony, or rather some ‘one’ had trained these ponies, and they moved with a will and purpose that was truly impressive to behold. When had he had time to do this? And more to the point – how? Just how long had they been working on this machine, and were all the villagers in on the escape plan? Well, clearly not all of them from what the scout had told Blue, but more than enough. The rest, the scouts by the sounds of things, burst in through the door a few seconds later.

“Am I the last?” a bottle green mare gasped, sticking her head back out to look along the dock.

An orange stallion called, “Gambit’s here, so that’s everypony.”

“Wait! What about Tumbler?” somebody called out.

The green mare grimaced, “Tribals got him back at the irrigator.”

“Oh no...”

“Time to mourn later.”

“Dancer!” It was Blue’s voice, “Where the hell are you?”

“Here!” A stallion shouted in reply. He pushed his way through the others, making his way to the steps leading to the cockpit. “I was just helping-”

“Never mind ‘helping’,” Blue snapped. “Christ almighty, I need you up here now!” He stared down at Celandine, “Get that door secured, and hang on to something.”

Dancer disappeared through the door and closed it behind himself. Now all Lyra could do was pray as the madness of the world rose to a crescendo.

Lyra couldn’t hear what was going on in the cockpit. In truth she didn’t want to either. There was a disturbing quiet amongst the villagers, a sense of acceptance that was far from calming. She huffed under her breath, feeling herself pushing into Celandine for comfort whilst the yellow mare pulled her into her chest.

“You okay?”

Lyra squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t speak. Her mouth was dry with fear. She couldn’t look at the villagers, each one of whom was lost in thoughts of their own. They were looking at one another for comfort, for support, and perhaps in some peculiar way it worked too. For Lyra, who knew so little about any of these ponies, there was only Celandine. It was enough.

The engines roared. Slowly, noticeably, the great machine began to move. It wasn’t smooth, nor was it even remotely comfortable for any of the ponies aboard. As the great flying boat picked up speed it started to thump the waves, wallowing in the swell as they left the protection of the bay. Some part of Lyra began to wonder, to hope, that they would give up this impossible rush for the skies and instead turn around, heading back for the shore. The increased roar of the engine and the feeling of something sucking at the machine around her dashed that hope to pieces. One way or another this crazed situation was going to play out until the bitter end. She stared at the door, wondering how fast she could get to the thing, work the lock, and get out. If things went wrong it was the nearest escape route, and there was no way in hell she was going to die, drowning inside that cold metal nightmare! She was shaking now, and it wasn’t just her either. Celandine was pressed up against the wall with a pillow behind her back. It was scant comfort from the wild bucking of the machine, but it was better than nothing. It didn’t do anything to help her fight her own fears, and the yellow mare trembled noticeably. Noticeably that was until the bucking, sucking sensation, abruptly stopped. The nose pitched up, the tail down. It wasn’t much, but it made Lyra’s stomach drop like a lead weight. Gravity pulled at her, or at least something did. The engine sounded absolutely deafening, but the sensation now was one of…

“We’re flying!” somepony shouted excitedly. Several pushed towards the various round windows, staring out in wonder. “We’ve done it! Dear Lode, we’ve actually done it!”

A spontaneous explosion of cheers, laughter and crying burst throughout the entirety of the flying boat’s interior. The overwhelming sense of relief was absolutely intoxicating, helping in part to drown out the horrible tension that had been unmistakable only seconds earlier. Lyra, as scared as she was, couldn’t help but raise a smile too.

Celandine gently pried herself from Lyra’s grasp to look out of the window above them. “Load’s breath,” she gasped. “They’re right… Lyra, we’re flying.” She turned back to her with a look of utter joy in her eyes, “I can’t believe it. We’re free!”

True enough the flying boat continued to ascend, heading steadily upward into the crystal blue sky like some monstrous prehistoric bird. They were still fairly low considering how fast they seemed to be moving, but then Lyra was no pegasus, and airships in Equestria were nothing like this. They were slow, ponderous things, and almost silent as they glided through the air. Travelling by pegasi was a lot faster of course, and tended to be used as a rapid mode of transport for short journeys. For those who wanted comfort, and weren’t in a hurry, air ships were the only sensible choice so far as Lyra was concerned. Humans on the other hoof, apparently didn’t mind being deafened by the roar of engines and the wind howling past as if a weather elemental were trying to pull you back down to earth. As incredible as it was, this bizarre vehicle didn’t so much glide through the air as batter it out of the way through sheer force.

The doorway opened, “Everypony okay back here?” It was Blue. There was a general nodding of heads and murmuring of agreement. “Good. We’re still climbing, but we’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Which way are we heading?” an older mare asked.

“Towards the fisher islands,” Blue replied. “When we get past them we’ll try and gain as much altitude as we can whilst remaining below any cloud layer. That way we can keep an eye out for any land masses. When we see one that looks inhabited my plan is to find a place to land and-”

“Ask for directions?” Celandine asked cheekily.

Blue grinned, “Pretty much.”

“Skipper?” Dancer’s voice called out from the cockpit. “I’m picking something up on the radar. Looks like we may have company.”

“Distance?”

“Can’t say for sure, only that there’s something there and it’s closing in. Fast.”

Fast was right. A pony from the tail yelled out, “Hold onto your hats! Here they come!”

“Pegasi?” Blue barked, staring out of the starboard window.

In answer a rapid thudding from the turret gun position rolled through the flying boat. Ponies cried out in fright as the hot brass casings rattled down into the interior.

“Gunners, keep them off us,” Blue vanished back through the door into the cockpit. At the same time two stallions pushed past some of their number, and to Lyra’s amazement opened a door on either side of the fuselage where a large gun was then pushed out into position. Wind blasted into the interior, causing the ponies inside to press down into whatever protection they could find. It wasn’t long before these guns began to fire like their brethren, sending out streams of leaden fire out into the blue sky.

“Got one of the bastards!”

“Watch him, watch him!”

“Six o’clock, coming in fast. Havoc, give him a burst.”

“Keep us steady Skipper. Steady… steady… He’s going down!”

“Great shooting, Chicory!”

Something flew past Lyra’s ear. She heard a cry of pain, and turned to see one of the ponies staring at a red stain on their coat. Immediately another of the villagers was there, applying a dressing and shooing the others away. But where could they go? Daylight shone through the hole in the fuselage, whilst others began to appear here and there as if by magic. More ponies were hit, some seriously, others only slightly. Blood soon began to flow, pooling onto the metal floor.

“Lyra?” Celandine asked, looking to green unicorn. “I know you’re tired, but is there any way you could do your shield thing?”

“I can try...” Lyra concentrated, and with Celandine’s encouragement, threw out her magical shield. To the great relief of the frightened passengers it was just enough to encompass the majority of the interior of the aircraft, protecting them from incoming fire. Lyra had wanted to surround the whole aircraft, but she was already pushing it doing this much. It was sure as hell better than nothing, but which ever way you looked at it, it was only a stopgap. Despite the fire from the guns the pegasi were absolutely relentless in their assault. They were small targets too, nimble and manoeuvrable. By comparison the flying boat was a sitting duck. From the shouts of the gunners they were dishing out plenty of damage to their attackers, but Lyra knew that every hit on the flying boat could be the last. Her worst fears were realised when a violent shudder went through the entire aircraft.

“What… What was that?” Lyra asked. She winced suddenly as her magic winked out. “Damn!” She frowned, staring out of the window then back to Celandine. “Did you feel that?”

“That wasn’t turbulence...” Celandine leaped to the stairs and threw open the cockpit door. “Blue, there’s magic here. I think we’re going right into it.” Green light shimmered around them, buffeting the plane and sending anything that was loose crashing to the floor. “Okay, we’re definitely going right into it!”

“Right, Celly, get back down there. Hang on everyone!” Blue threw the sea plane into a hard bank to port. The engines howled, the wind shrieking through the holes in the fuselage and the open gun ports.

“Good gods, look at it out there!” Lyra stared in horror out of the window. “It’s like we’re passing through the gates of Tartarus.” Unnatural bursts of lightning flashed all around them. Green light unlike anything Lyra had ever seen before, flickered in and out, and creating after images of nightmarish apparitions chasing through the darkening sky. Horrifyingly the pegasi who were following them fared far worse. One by one they burst into flashes of intense green fire that burned for a split second before falling from the sky like blackened, burning coals. One by one they simply winked out of existence, and it was then, as the plane turned, that Lyra knewthey would be next.

With one enormous pulse of force the aircraft jolted to one side. The ponies inside, quiet for the most part even when they were taking fire from their pursuers, cried out in fear and alarm. Foals pressed into their mothers, but what comfort could be found in such dire circumstances? Lyra tried to think of a song, something that would help take everyponies mind off the horror that dragged at the souls of each and every one of them. She couldn’t. Her mind was a blank of absolute terror. It was all she could do now to hang on to Celandine as she did with her. Abruptly however, with the aircraft still turning, there was a noticeable change in the outside conditions. The green light was fading, and fading quickly, draining away as though it had simply never been. The lightning stopped. The buffeting stopped. Now all there was was the steady thrum of the two engines and the laboured, relieved breathing of dozens of frightened ponies.

The cockpit door opened.

“Celly, Lyra, can you come up here please?”

The two mares shared a look, with Celandine taking the lead and disappearing through the door closely followed by Lyra. When the green mare entered the enclosed space her eyes went wide with incredulity. She’d seen human electrical equipment before of course, the portal room had been full of it, but this was on a different level altogether. There was Sparks, a pair of headphones perched over his ears whilst fiddling with a bewildering array of knobs, levers, dials, switches, and goodness knows what else. He dismissed the girls with a wave, his eyes intently watching his gauges with a surprising amount of care. Lyra was still looking at him as she passed into the cockpit, bumping into Celandine who clucked her tongue at her. She quickly turned to offer an apologetic smile, until she caught sight of the view out of the large cockpit canopy. The world was sliding by at a gentle angle, the horizon and sea both a beautiful blue with the frightening green lightning having vanished as if it had simply never existed. Blue was there, sitting beside the stallion she knew as ‘Dancer’. The two sat, like Sparks, in front of an incredible away of controls that covered what looked to be every square inch of the interior.

Blue looked over his shoulder at the girls, “Any thoughts on what happened back there?”

Celandine didn’t need any further explanation. “It was the storm,” she said simply. “I’ve seen it too many times before to get that wrong, but there was definitely something different about it this time.”

“Something coming through maybe?” Blue asked.

Celandine shook her head, “No, I don’t think so. It’s too much of a coincidence. I think we triggered something when we got too close.”

“A barrier?” Blue looked to Lyra. “You’re good with barriers, Lyra. Did you pick anything up from it?”

Lyra closed her eyes and thought carefully. The flight had scared the hell out of her, the storm even more so. But Blue was on to something. There had been something, something vaguely familiar about the magic that had a feeling, just as Celandine had said, of being ‘triggered’. As one may if, for example, they blundered into a tripwire. It wasn’t much to go on, she sure as hell wasn’t one for the more complex spells and weaving of magical elements like some unicorns she knew. No, she was just a regular old unicorn who knew enough about shields to keep idiots from braining her when then got rough at gigs. Still, there had to be something she could pick up on though. Years of detecting trace magics and ancient traps on archaeological expeditions had attuned her to certain characteristics...

“Lyra?”

“Um, yeah...” She looked out of the window, staring into the distance, “I think there’s a barrier up around the island, preventing anypony from leaving.”

“You don’t say?” Celandine said sarcastically. Blue tapped her on the foreleg, issuing a warning glance. Celandine rolled her eyes before adding, “Sorry.”

Lyra wasn’t listening anyway. She was staring so intently out of the window she managed to tune out everything other than… Wait… Tune out? Her eyes drifted to the machinery, the switches clicking and humming in some alien harmony that was far beyond her ken. But still, it was a music of a sort. A sort of harmony... Harmonics maybe? Harmonics! That was it! She rolled her shoulder and nodded her head as though assuring herself of her conclusion. “Just before the storm I felt a jolt, a kind of cold sensation,” Lyra stated to the attentive crew. “The same happened in reverse when we left its area of effect.” She smiled to herself. Bonnie had told her about spells like that which had been left over from ancient conflicts in Equestria when she’d first begun looking into archaeology as a potential career. There were still no-go areas where things like that remained, but they were slowly being de-activated by specialised unicorns to prevent ‘incidents’ as she’d put it. “With such a powerful magic field it would be incredibly hard to keep the spell going without regular maintenance. Assuming that’s true, and I’m right, then there should be weak spots here and there which we might be able to penetrate.”

“Or not?” Celandine suggested.

Blue clucked his tongue, “So if there were some of these ‘weak spot’ in the magic field, would you be able to detect them if we got close enough?”

Lyra shrugged, “I’m not sure to be brutally honest with you, but I may be able to pick up on something if we can skirt the field.”

“Skirt the field…” Blue repeated. He let out a pent up breath. “Can’t say I fancy going anywhere near that thing again. We were damned lucky last time, so you’d better be right about this Lyra.”

“Hey! I never said I was right about anything!” Lyra blurted. “It’s a theory, that’s all. Celestia’s arse, Blue, I’m a musician not a magician.”

Celandine lifted her hoof defensively, “Don’t look at me, I don’t do magic.” She tapped her head, “Something missing maybe?”

Lyra rolled her eyes, “Well that’s just spiffing, isn’t it? Simply spiffing!” She leaned against the door frame and groaned. “So you’ll just put it all on me, eh? No pressure at all!”

Blue gave her an apologetic glance, “Sorry, but you’re the only unicorn we’ve got. Unless you’ve got any better ideas?”

“That was my better idea!” Lyra retorted. She facehoofed, “This whole mess just keeps on getting better and better.”

Sparks stuck his head around the door, “All engines looking good so far, Skipper. I’m keeping my eye on number two though, she was running a touch warm back there.”

“I know how it feels...” Lyra muttered. Suddenly her ears pricked up, “Hey, how come none of you guys call each other numbers now?”

“You’re asking that now?!” Celandine’s eyes went wide. “God almighty, Lyra, I thought you were supposed to be the bright one!” She gave her a prod in the chest as she pushed past her, “You work it out. I need a piss.”

Lyra ignored her, instead looking out of the window past Blue’s ear. He looked to be in his element here, not that humans had specific elements which they identified with in the way ponies did, such as air for pegasi, earth for earth ponies and of course magic for unicorns. That said he still exuded an aura of command, of purpose, and by extension gave those around him a curious feeling of comfort. This guy was in charge, and he was confident they would achieve their goals. Precisely what those goals were other than to simply ‘get away from the island’ she wasn’t entire convinced they’d thought out. ‘Hope for the best’ was not exactly the most well conceived of plans, but the way things were it was all they had. They had an aircraft. They had the villagers aboard. Now, they had to get out of this damned magical bubble. But why was there a bubble here in the first place? If she had some idea of what it was and why it was here it may help her come up with a way to get through it. The only drawback with that was that she was no scholar of the magical arts, not by any stretch of the imagination. It was just… It was just that she needed something to go on. Something a bit more than ‘maybe the bubble has a thin part where the magical nodes were gathered when a spell was...” Oh dear gods, that was probably it! She could just about remember the lecture on ancient magical spells they’d had when she’d been on her university course - the part where she hadn’t fallen asleep at least. Still, she’d learned enough to know not to arse around with it, and that was pretty much it. The basics were all you really needed to know to stay safe. In a nutshell, if the magic was artificial in nature, then there would be a focal point where the spell originated. This would, potentially anyway, be a weak point where ponies wanting to deactivate a spell would concentrate their efforts. If the magic was naturally formed it would be a different story altogether. Of course the ponies who dealt with this sort of thing were specialists in their particular field. She should know, she’d called them in countless times when they’d encountered something dodgy during a dig. When she’d seen this particular magical phenomenon it had been unlike anything she’d ever encountered before though. It seemed almost sentient in a way, and more like a naturally occurring thing as opposed to a wide area effect spell. Of course, it was generally well known that really ancient spells could develop a kind of sentience all their own over millennia, but they were exceptions rather than the rule. The power involved in making one was beyond anything ponies could wield… unless you were an alicorn. Hey, hadn’t Parchment said something about the island being a penal colony? Oh hell… Oh gods, he had, hadn’t he. But wasn’t that a lie just to get her to believe him and follow him back to the citadel? Damn it all, she didn’t know!

Lyra shook her head, trying to concentrate on the task at hoof. Artificial or natural it didn’t make a jot of difference. The only thing she could say for certain was that they couldn’t just keep on flying in circles. There had to be some way out. There had to be.

Flashes from outside were followed by distant bangs and pops that echoed oddly inside the aircraft despite the din from the engines.

“We’re getting close to the citadel,” Dancer warned, looking out of the starboard window. “We’re still climbing, but if this barrier thing is a bubble then we’re going to be running out of airspace pretty damned quick.”

“Agreed,” Blue nodded. “Keep an eye on that wing tip, Dancer,” he advised, watching the altimeter slowly climb. “As soon as it looks like we’re entering the field, shout out.”

“You got it Skipper.”

‘Skipper’… Lyra sighed. Seeing how Sparks, Dancer and Celandine worked with a creature from another world was curiously endearing. When you considered how different they were both in physiology and life experience, it was truly extraordinary that they could work so seamlessly together. Just how long had they been working on this escape plan? Sparks and Dancer operated this aircraft like it was second nature. Some of the controls had been adapted for equine use too, such as extension to the dials and knobs for manipulation by hoof or mouth. It was all so… natural. Lyra would have smiled if she hadn’t been so scared. For as comforting as working with these ponies, and Blue of course, was, the reality was that it could all end in a sudden and very violent flash of bright green light. Celestia… Sometimes she hated magic.

“Bring her over five degrees to port, Skip.”

“Coming over five...”

Green light flickered briefly, but only for a split second. It was a second too long as far as Lyra was concerned. Her heart leaped, her concentration shaken but still focussed on trying to detect something that might tip them off.

“Shit, we’re contacting again. Give her another five, Skip.”

“Roger.” Blue looked over his shoulder, “Lyra, we’re running out of sky here...”

“I know!” Lyra shook her head in frustration, “I can’t just… I…” She frowned in thought. “What the hell is that?” A tickle on the very edge of her consciousness had been niggling at her for a while now, but she’d been so mortified by the weird storm and the attack by the tribals that she’d just pushed it to one side. Magical interference was certainly nothing new to her in her line of work; archaeological sites were more often than not virtually awash with the remnants of old spells and magical artefacts giving off thaumaturgical radiation. Thankfully many years of practical field experience had taught Lyra how to discern between what was important and what was not, helping her to filter a lot of it out to avoid the inevitable headaches that were a veritable curse for unicorns attuned to such things. Her natural ability in this area had in fact been one of the primary reasons she’d been selected as lead archaeologist on the Galeus tower site in the first place. Since she’d arrived on the island though there hadn’t been much in the way of background magic to speak about, except in the tower of course, but this thing she was detecting now was a different animal altogether. The source of the magic was outside, not on the island, but outside the aircraft. And now it was back again, this time all but demanding her attention. Lyra closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to isolate the source. It wasn’t hard to find it in a general sense, but it was like catching soap in the bath; you knew it was there, flicking in and out of your vision, but actually grabbing hold of it for further inspection was a different matter altogether. It was a vaguely familiar sensation too, although at the same time horribly alien.

Lyra had been hoof picked for many an archaeological expedition for her ability to detect magical traps ever since her talent had been hi-lighted in college. Of course out in the field you had more time to focus on the potential problem and keep ponies away from it while you probed the thing to see if it was an actual threat. You certainly weren’t flying headlong at the thing with no idea precisely where it was or even what it was. In this case there was no guarantee there was anything there at all! But if there… Wait, there was something there! Her horn was tingling, a sure sign of a strong magical build up nearby. With the storm popping in and out of existence as the aircraft skirted its edges it was playing hell with her magic as it was, but it was definitely radiating out from somewhere, as though a central point were directing the magic out to intercept anything crossing its path. She pushed herself up to the window, pressing her muzzle against the glass.

“Damn it all, I can’t see a bloody thing!” she muttered to herself. Lyra shifted round, trying to look out of the aircraft’s smaller windows for a better view.

Celandine noticed her moving, asking, “Can you see something?”

Lyra narrowed her eyes, staring out into the blue sky. “I’m not a hundred percent, but there’s something there.” She clucked her tongue, “Can you get me up onto the roof?”

“Onto the-?” Blue nearly shot out of his seat. “Are you nuts girl?”

Lyra looked around the cabin, noticing the hatch in the ceiling. “I can’t see a damned thing in here. If I could get up there I could-”

“What about the turret?” Blue asked. “You’d get a better view from there.”

“I wish!” Lyra shook her head, “No. I need to be able to see outside without anything in the way. I can sense things with my magic, but normally I’m not bouncing around like a pea in a maraca.” She wiped a hoof over her face, “Look, if you can tie something around my waist I could stick my head out and have a look while you guys keep hold of me.”

“Christ, no!” Blue’s eyes blazed. “Not a chance in hell, Lyra. I’m not having anyone going out there in this, and besides, the hatches aren’t designed to be opened in flight.”

“The gun ports are,” Celandine noted. She caught Blue’s warning glare and then shrugged helplessly at the look of determination in the green mare’s eyes. “It’s true. She might be able to look out from there a lot more safely than up here.”

Again Lyra shook her head. “The source is up,” she emphasised with a motion of her forehoof. “The wing’s in the way of the side door. I need to have a clear sight line to be able to do anything.” And even then she wasn’t sure she could actually do anything about it. Lyra was keenly aware that the others were looking to her as if she had some magical ability to get them out of there. What the hell were they expecting anyway? For her to shout some ancient gibberish and clop her hooves together, making the barrier vanish into thin air? One by one she looked to the ponies in the cockpit. Dancer was focussing on flying but had one ear cocked, listening to the conversation. Celandine looked hopeful and doubtful at the same time, whilst Blue just looked worried. She felt sick. What the hell was she getting herself into? And yet, what choice did she have? The aircraft might feel solid, but the way that storm had thrown them around showcased just how vulnerable they really were. And the way those pegasi had just… Lyra shuddered. No, she had to do this.

“We’re close,” she said firmly. “If you want to survive, open that damned hatch.”

The tension in the cockpit was horribly uncomfortable. Blue and Celandine stared at Lyra as if completely at a loss for words.

“Sparks,” Lyra said finally. “Get that-”

“SHIT! Hang onto something!” Dancer hauled on the control column and the aircraft howled in a sharp bank to port. Ponies shrieked in fright at the sudden change of attitude whilst green light burst around them, flooding the interior with unearthly luminescence. There was a loud pop, followed by a shout of alarm from Sparks. A heavy shuddering began seconds later, prompting Blue to leap back to the controls and help Dancer wrest control of the massive machine.

“What the hell was that?!” Blue yelled over his shoulder.

Sparks hurried to the window, pressing his muzzle to the glass. “Buck it. Number two is overheating, Skipper,” he called back. Despite his earlier cool, calm exterior, the faintest tinge of fear slipped into the stallion’s normally jovial voice. Whatever it was, it was serious.

“How bad is it?”

“It’s the carburettor again.” Sparks shook his head, quickly returning to his gauges, “I can try and compensate for it, but it needs a proper repair. We’re carrying a lot of extra weight and...” He closed his eyes, “Look, just don’t throw her around again like that, Dancer, or…” He looked at Blue and their eyes met. Nothing else needed to said. They all knew what could happen if they lost an engine.

Lyra put a hoof on Sparks’ shoulder, “The hatch?”

The oil smeared stallion looked to the human, “Skipper?”

Blue closed his eyes and gave a single solemn nod. “Damn it.” Taking a breath he pointed to the door, “Celly, get her into the rescue harness and tied her down. Get some of the others to help. I’ll see what I can do to get the hatch secured so we don’t lose it.”

Lyra couldn’t believe she was doing this. For that matter, she couldn’t believe any of this was really happening. She was a singer, an archaeologist, and was a pony dedicated to spending her life on good old fashioned earth as much as equinely possible. The sky was for clouds, birds, and those crazy pegasi which were probably half bird anyway. Stupid things. She’d nearly been killed by those idiots on more than one occasion when they’d been flying like lunatics with her in the back hanging on for dear life. It was a rare pegasus who flew at a sensible speed, but they were usually the ones who worked out of Canterlot. Come out into the sticks and the shackles were well and truly off. Now here she was in a human made flying machine of dubious age, and of especially dubious condition. She barely noticed the ropes and straps being attached to her. They’d quite obviously never been made for a pony, and two of the harnesses were strapped together to make one. A tap on the shoulder brought her to her senses with a start. That, and the blast of inrushing air as the hatch was lowered and a small ladder dropped down. Again, designed for human feet and not hooves.

Cold wind howled into the aircraft, stinging eyes, blowing manes and making the machine shake violently with the intrusion. Lyra stared up into the blue void, the white clouds, the great expanse of… of nothing. “Shit. Oh, shit, shit, shit!”

Celandine took her head and stared into her eyes, “Lyra, are you okay?”

“No! No I bloody well am not!” Lyra swallowed. She felt sick. Sick, and had an overwhelming fear she was going to pee herself too. The green mare shuddered, “Let’s just get this over with, okay?” She lifted a hoof. Or at least tried to.

“What’s the matter?” Celandine asked.

“I… I can’t move my hoof.”

“You can’t-”

“I can’t move my bloody hoof, okay?” Lyra snapped. She squeezed her eyes shut, “You’re going to have to help me up there. Please Celandine, just give me a push, a shove, anything. Please...”

The yellow mare gave her such a gentle smile that it almost took the edge off Lyra’s terror. Almost. “Come on, just one hoof at a time,” Celandine said softly. “You don’t need to go all the way out. Just a bit so you can see, okay? Look, we’re all here rooting for you, and you’re tied in nice and safe.”

“Lyra?” Sparks’ voice cut through the din like a light in a dark room. “Here, use these.” The stallion reached out to the frightened mare. Hanging from his hoof were the goggles he’d had stuck on his head since Lyra had first encountered him. By the look of the marks left on his forehead they seldom parted company with their owner. “Celly?”

Celandine helped Lyra put the strange things on. They were grubby, like the rest of the strange stallion, but they were a comfortable fit. She gave him what she hoped was a grateful smile. The word ‘Thanks’, died on her lips as her mouth dried out. Instead she took that first step, then the next, her hooves catching on the ladder as she ascended. Looking back the eyes of the others looked back at her encouragingly. It did, in truth, give her heart. In fact it was so endearing it pulled at her heart strings. Heart strings, eh? Lyra smiled to herself. Perhaps there really was something in that.

Outside the aircraft was another world. Wind howled horribly, dragging at her, pulling her almost half out of the hatch before she had a chance to wrap her forelegs around the top rung of the ladder. Here she could see the massive form of the sea plane all around her, and up here she could also see how small they were with the uninterrupted expanse of sea and sky. Mile after countless mile of beautiful blue sky, the warm sun and the ocean far, far below. Vertigo was something she’d only ever heard of. Here it was a dread reality. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her heart rate. She glanced at the engine with their spinning props. Off to her right the engine with the problem hummed away to itself, but there was clearly something wrong. The exhausts on the thing seemed to be glowing red hot. But was that normal? Shaking her head she pushed the distracting thoughts aside. What did she know about human machines? What she did know about was finding magical artefacts, and there was one here. Somewhere. Throwing her magic out to the world around her, Lyra searched. The something she’d detected earlier felt stronger now. It was still above them, slightly off to the left somewhere, but… She swore under her breath; it was so hard to think with all this wind! She concentrated once again, trying to pick up on the ‘wrongness’ of the magic she’d sensed earlier. It sounded trite, and a scholar no doubt would have cringed at such a simplistic description of a spell matrix, but that was how Lyra always worked. She looked for the out of place, the alien, the ‘wrong thing’ that shouldn’t be there. Simply put, it was the ‘wrongness’ that stood out.

And stand out it did.

“THERE IT IS!”

Celandine stood at the bottom of the ladder looking up at her, “What is it? Can you see something?”

“There’s a spell matrix node,” Lyra yelled back. You can’t see it with the naked eye, but I can sense it with my magic.”

“Is there anything you can do?” Celandine asked loudly. “Can you destroy it?”

Lyra shook her head, “If you cock about with spells this powerful it could do something bad.”

“How bad?”

“Really, really bad.”

Celandine paled. “Can you shield the plane against it maybe?”

Again Lyra shook her head, “I can’t make a shield that large, but I can try and put a shield around the matrix if we can get close enough.”

“What’ll that do?”

“Hopefully it’ll nullify its area of effect,” Lyra conjectured. “If I can do that for long enough to get us through we should be able to get outside of its range.”

“You think that could work?”

“Buggered if I know,” Lyra shrugged. “But it’s all I’ve got.”

“Shit.” Celandine hung her head a moment. She was having a conversation with somepony else. Probably Blue. She looked back at Lyra, “Blue says he’ll follow your lead. You shout out where, and he’ll do the steering.”

“Okay!” Lyra certainly didn’t feel ‘okay’. Oh Celestia, why hadn’t she paid more attention at school?

“Up and to the right.”

She’d arsed around for years, her and Bon Bon acting the fool when they should have been studying.

“Bit more to the right.”

Perhaps if she’d spent more time doing her school work then she would have had more of an idea on how to apply her magic properly, instead of winging it. Ha! ‘Winging’ it! She should have got into stand up. Gods above, what a bloody mess!

“Steady now...”

Green light flared once more. Not much, but enough to cause alarm both to her and the ponies below. There was a crack of green lightning so bright it left after images on Lyra’s vision.

“Getting nearer. Keep steady like this.”

Celandine reappeared behind her, “Lyra! Blue says he’ll do what he can, but the engines are overheating with the strain. We can’t keep climbing like this for long.”

“We don’t need to climb for long,” Lyra called back.

Another crack of lightning. Wind started to hammer the sea plane, shaking them from side to side as it had when they’d first encountered it.

“Lyra, I hope you know what you’re doing!”

“Oh, belt up!” Lyra snapped. “I’m doing my bloody best here, girl. Buck me, if it wasn’t for your nagging me, I’d… Gods, there it is!” Lyra took a deep breath and stared out into the blue. She was right, she couldn’t see the spell, it was shielded from sight very well indeed. Not only that, but to create a spell high up in the sky and keep it there for who knew how long was one hell of a feat of magic. Now her only concern was whether the magic would react to her cutting it off from its area of effect. “Here goes nothing...”

Magic glowed around Lyra’s horn. Slowly, carefully, she began to form the shield. And then, with a flick of her mane, she cast it right at where she knew the spell was. That was when the world started to turn from green to purple, then from purple to a beautiful bright blue. It was as if the spell had simply… switched off.

“GUN IT!” Lyra roared.

Below her Celandine screamed towards the cockpit, “Blue! I don’t know what you call it, but go in a straight line and hell for leather!”

From where she was, Lyra could see the ailerons moving, and hear the engine roar with renewed vigor. It was if the aircraft itself were a living thing, racing into beautiful blue sky. Racing to freedom. Lyra’s heart soared with it, her smile broadening as they began to put distance between the spell and themselves. They couldn’t go up straight like a firework, that would have been a godsend if they could of course, but they were sufficiently high enough that they should be able get free of the affected area before her magic was out of range… She hoped.

Seconds passed by. Lyra began to pray under her breath that they were going to be far enough, but she was already starting to feel her magic flag. They were travelling at a frightening speed, and that meant that the range of her magic was being stretched to ludicrous limits far faster than she’d ever imagined. Normally she used the shield on herself as protection from idiots in the crowd. This was on another level altogether.

“You okay up there?”

Lyra dared not look down, but answered, “Not really! Can’t this thing go any faster?”

“Blue says the throttles are wide open now,” Celandine replied.

The green mare sighed, “I take it that means ‘no’?”

Celandine shook her head, “It means-” A bright green flash flooded the horizon and vanished almost as fast as it had come. “Lyra!”

Lyra winced in pain as the magical feedback made itself felt, “Damn it, the bloody things altering itself.”

Celandine paled, “It can do that?!”

“Spells can adapt,” Lyra shouted. “It’s a security measure to deter tampering.”

“But you can counter it, can’t you?”

“Luna’s breath, don’t you think I’m trying?!” Lyra gasped at the effort, sweat beading on her brow. “The bloody things on a different level to anything I’ve ever seen before. I don’t… I don’t think this is unicorn magic.”

Celandine said nothing. Gods above, they were in for it now. The spell was squirming under her magical touch like a living thing, trying to escape the bubble she’d wrapped around it. She’d encountered countless magical traps over the years, many so old as to be unimaginably dangerous in their instability. A harmless locking spell from a thousand years ago could become a lethal corruption of its former self, its matrix decaying until it formed a death trap to the unwary. This was why they had specialists. It was also why whole areas of the country were designated ‘no go’ zones due to thaumaturgical radiation from past wars, magical phenomena, and spells that had simply ‘gone rogue’. Many had been cleared, but all too many remained. As a rule, if you strayed off the beaten path when exploring the remoter regions of Equestria there was a very real danger that your first encounter with one of these magical ‘hot spots’ could end up very badly indeed. Unicorns were usually tipped off by the old ‘itching horn’ phenomenon that warned of something powerful and nasty nearby. Pegasi usually flew over them. Earth ponies, as so many had in past, often blundered right into them without realising anything was wrong until it was too late. Some of them were sensitive to magic of course, as Celandine appeared to be, but most were not. Some said that earth ponies had a magic all of their own, or rather had had one of their own. The knowledge of this mysterious ‘power’ had been slowly lost over generations of peace and prosperity. After all, why did you need folk magic when you could employ a unicorn to do it properly for you? Huh, it was an odd world out there.

Out there.

Out… Lyra opened her eyes as the sky turned green once more. She frowned, concentrated, and… “Oh goddesses...” The magic was gone. Gone! “Celly! CELANDINE!”

Celandine looked up at her. The light was so bright now as lightning flashed all around them. The engines roared angrily, the aircraft shaking, slewing from left to right, right to left. She’d done all she could, but the distance was too great, the ancient magic far too clever for her simple spell. Generations, millennia of existence. It knew. It could sense her trying to smother it. And it had defeated her. There was a brilliant flash of light, brighter than the sun. Lyra screamed in fright, the smell of burning filling her nostrils, and then the sense of the world tipping. She opened her eyes to see the smoking end of the rope trailing above her, the aircraft moving away, disappearing into the… the blue sky. By the goddess, they’d made it! They’d… Oh… She was falling. Of course she was. It was obvious really when you thought about.

“Oh, buck my life...”

As short as it had been, at least it had been interesting. Kinda. Ha! She’d met plenty of good stallions over the years. She’d met Bon Bon too. Well, she’d known Bonnie from school of course, but that still counted, right? She was a good friend, a confidant, and the two shared a bond that few could ever truly understand. Sure they’d had their ups and downs. Hell, who hadn’t? But that was okay. It was all, all okay. Dying was nothing, or so they said. Ponies rarely talked about death. Somepony died, they were cremated, a service was held, and a party thrown in their honour to celebrate their life. They’d gone on to join the herd and the world just kept right on turning. Lyra’s mother had often said she’d die of drink, or partying, or some unspecified venereal disease. Maybe all three! She smiled to herself. Oddly she didn’t feel frightened any more. The feeling of falling was scary, the wind pulling at her mane and tail, but the knowledge that she couldn’t do anything about it kind of washed all of that away. She’d done her job. She’d rescued the ponies in the sea plane. Blue and Celandine were safe now. Where would they go? she wondered. Llamalia maybe? They could sell the plane to that race of traders and live like kings on the money they’d make. All of them too. Maybe they’d go to Equestria and live in peace there. Naturally they’d all age like normal ponies do, but that wasn’t a problem. Not really. Being brought into the modern age could be a shock, but they’d get over that in time. In time…

Bright purple light enveloped her. Maybe this was the end. Was this what ponies saw when they died? She’d heard that the eternal herd sent ponies to collect the souls of the dead before taking them to see some guy with a register or something. Didn’t he take your name to make sure you were on the list? Gods, it sounded like being a guest at a formalised party. Maybe she should have been wearing a tie! Well, at least the sense of falling had stopped. Instead she was… standing on the beach? Dear Celestia, she was standing on the beach! Lyra stared at her hooves, feeling the golden sand crunch under them as the purple light vanished. A pony in a suit was staring right at her.

“Am I… Am I dead?” Lyra croaked through her dry lips.

Ignoring her, the suited stallion lifted a hoof to his ear, “Target acquired, ma’am.” There was a pause. “Understood. Standing by for further orders.”

“Excuse me?” Lyra took a step forward, looking around her in confusion. “This is the herd, right?” She saw others approaching her. Somehow unsurprisingly it was more ponies in suits, and each one of them identically dressed in a starkly businesslike combination of black and white. “You guys are...” And then it hit her, “Oh shit! It’s you lot again.”

In short order the newcomers were stood surrounding around her in stoic silence, their blank expressions only adding to the growing feeling of unspoken menace. Lyra flinched in surprise as a medic, apparently, without so much as a word began checking her over.

“Hey, get off!” Lyra snapped, pulling her tail away from the probing creature. “I don’t have bloody worms, thank you very much!”

“You may have,” a mare added, making her way through the throng. The candy stripe haired mare looked her up and down from behind the apparently obligatory sunglasses. “You’ve been living on this island in unsanitary conditions for almost twelve months. You could have-”

“What did you say?” Lyra’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, “TWELVE MONTHS?!”

“Chrono dilation,” the mare replied in a deadpan tone. Her red and white striped mane bobbed up and down as she explained the missing time away as though it were as obvious as water being wet.

“Parchment...” Lyra’s ears flopped in realisation. “Of course. He said he’d been here for over twenty years. Goddesses, I thought he was delirious! I didn’t think he actually...” Her voice died away as the horror of what had happened to the young lad in his last moments started to replay through her mind.

“The male you came here looking for?” the suited mare nodded knowingly. As her tan muzzle bobbed up and down it caught Lyra’s eye. This mare looked distinctly familiar somehow, as too did her voice. Ah, that was it, she must have been one of the clowns who’d tried to blow her up at the dig site. “We’ve been unable to locate him,” the mare continued. “Don’t worry though, I’m sure he’s-”

“He’s dead.”

“He’s-” The mare paused. “Oh. My condolences.”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. Your condolences,” Lyra snorted. She didn’t believe this mare was capable of expressing even the most basic of emotions, let alone offer any genuine ‘condolences’. She suddenly barked out a laugh at the ludicrousness of the situation, “Hah! And there was me thinking I was in the herd. Luna give me strength...”

“You very nearly were,” the newcomer said plainly. “It was pure luck one of our sky chariots caught you when they did.” She frowned, “How did you end up there?”

“Where, in the sky?” When the tan mare didn’t reply, Lyra said simply, “Honestly I can’t remember. There was a lot of fighting. We were being chased by tribals. Maybe I was in a sky chariot that got hit.” She groaned, rubbing her temples, “I’m sorry, I really can’t remember right now. My heads such a mess...”

The candy striped mane bobbed again, “We’ll debrief you properly later. For now we have to secure this island and deal with its… inhabitants.”

“Wait a minute, what are you talking about?” Lyra asked. She looked at the ponies who were all staring right back at her. “They’re not all bad ponies here,” Lyra continued. “I mean, there are some, and there’s monsters too, some real nasty ones!” She looked nervously at the forest. “You know, I really don’t think we should be standing here when-”

“They’re being subdued,” the tan mare intoned gravely.

“Subdued...” Lyra took a step back and looked the suited mare up and down. That voice! It was so familiar it was starting to make the back of her head itch like crazy. There was only one mare she’d ever heard with that particular intonation in her voice, and the way she inflected certain words… The mane was different, sure, but the style was the same. She had the same coat colour too. The coat was… She quickly reached forward. Taking the suited mane by surprise, Lyra flicked up the corner of the mare’s coat. “Goddesses above!” she hissed in shock. “I was right! It… It’s you!”

One of the others stepped forward, reaching into an inside pocket, “Agent Sweetie?”

The suited mare waved the concerned stallion away, “All of you, leave us. I need to talk to this mare alone. Agent Tandy, keep me informed of the situation at the primary target site.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Lyra stood quietly as the others dutifully moved away. Once they were a comfortable distance away, Lyra leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “So, ‘Agent Sweetie’ is it? Come to sweep me off my hooves have you?” She wasn’t sure what was going on here, but Lyra was in no mood for levity right now. As joyful as a reunion with Bon Bon should have been, particularly after how long they’d been apart, something was off here. More than that it stank, and it wasn’t just the fact that she hadn’t had a bath in days. When no reply came she floated the sunglasses off the agent’s muzzle to reveal a pair of very familiar blue eyes. “Hello Bonnie. Long time no see. Nice do by the way, the red and white really suits your eyes.”

Bon Bon’s voice was as emotionless as a stone. She only said, “Lyra.”

“Umm, and?” Lyra raised her eyes and shrugged her shoulders at her friend, “That’s it, is it? No, ‘Hi Lyra, where’ve you been? I’ve been so worried about you.’”

“Of course I’ve been worried about you,” came the hurried reply. For a moment the mask of cold, unfeeling equestrian agent faded, revealing Lyra’s beloved friend beneath. “Fetlocks and feathers, Lyra, we’ve all been worried sick about you. Especially after you walked into that portal. I told you that something like this would happen one day!”

As much as Lyra was relieved that the old Bon Bon she’d known most of her life had reappeared, she was in no mood to be berated right then. She was hot, tired, and the boiling heat of adrenalin was still fizzing through her body like a wildfire. “I didn’t walk into the bloody thing, Bonnie,” Lyra snapped. “One of your suit wearing buddies was going to blow it up, and me along with it!”

Bon Bon rolled her eyes, “I think that’s something of an exaggeration, Lyra.”

“Exaggeration?!” Lyra’s eyes went wide in amazement at her friend’s casual dismissal of what she’d just said. “He said he was going to shoot me!”

“He-” Bon Bon sighed and rubbed her forehead, “Warlock can be… a little headstrong at times. He and I don’t see eye to eye on certain aspects of our work.”

“Oh dear, really?” Lyra shook her head at the sheer insanity of what she was hearing. “Gods above, I can’t believe this. This isn’t bucking happening!” She began to walk around in a circle, tossing her mane. “I’ve gone mad. That’s it, I’ve gone right round the bucking bend, and this,” she said holding up a hoof, “this is all just an illusion.” Lyra pointed at her friend, “You’re not really here. Hell, maybe I’m not really here! Maybe I’m just having a bad trip and I’ll wake up at any minute in a hotel bedroom surrounded by empty bottles and horny stallions! Oh Luna, say it is so!”

Bon Bon shook her head, letting out a loud sigh, “Lyra, listen...” She sat down on the sand and once again rubbed her face with a hoof, “You’re not dreaming. I hate to break it to you, but I’m real, and as much as I wish I didn’t have to say this, but everything that’s happened to you, here on this island, is not a hallucination. You have been here for the best part of a year and it’s taken us all this time to find you.”

“Well I suppose it’s hardly surprising considering the shield around this place,” Lyra snorted bitterly. “Maybe you should have asked one of your alicorn bosses to clue you in on their secret hide away a bit sooner.”

“We did,” Bon Bon said in that infuriatingly matter-of-fact manner she used whenever she felt Lyra was being childish. “Even then it wasn’t that easy to find. This island has been locked away by powerful magic from before the princesses had even been born.”

“Bollocks!” Lyra laughed, waving a hoof dismissively. “That was definitely alicorn magic up there, Bonnie. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

“Up there?” Bon Bon looked up into the sky, returning an inquisitive look on her friend. “You felt alicorn magic in the sky?”

“Well, I think… I think I did.” Lyra’s mouth suddenly went dry. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew that she didn’t want to tell Bon Bon about the aircraft. Blue was… Well, he was in danger from ponies like her. Wasn’t he? The sudden realisation of this hit her like a lump hammer. Bon Bon may be her friend, but she was also a royal agent, and there was no way in hell they’d just let something like an alien craft packed with weaponry and a previously thought mythical creature at the helm simply fly about willy nilly. “I… I’m not sure,” she stammered, “but the ponies here all said that this place was a prison formed by the princesses long ago. That’s why nopony could escape.” She breathed a sigh of relief at that last bit. It wasn’t quite a lie, especially since it was the one Parchment had used on her to entice her out of the ship that time, but the logic of it didn’t stack up under scrutiny. Still, it would suffice for now.

“Hmm...” Bon Bon nodded. Her searching gaze suggested she didn’t quite believe Lyra’s story, but thankfully she didn’t pursue it.

“So, what’s with the hair?” Lyra asked, changing the subject.

Bon Bon reached for her mane, “My mane? Oh!” She almost smiled, “We have to have an alternative ‘persona’ for work and civilian life. This is mine. Agent Sweetie Drops, but most just call me Sweetie or Agent Sweetie.”

Lyra smiled, “Yeah, ‘Agent Drops’ just sounds wrong.”

Bon Bon chuckled, her cold agent mask fading away to reveal her old friend once more, “I’m glad we found you, Lyra.”

The green mare reached for her friend and the two hugged, the warmth of the moment a blessed escape from all the horrors that had dogged Lyra since that awful day she’d realised Parchment had blundered through that damned portal. And then she noticed something.

“Your tummy!” Lyra’s eyes went wide, “Hey, it’s not swollen any more! What a relief, I was so worried about you!”

“Oh.”

“Hey, never mind, ‘Oh’!” Lyra was almost fizzing with excitement. “Come on, tell me what’s happened. If I’ve been away for twelve months and… Oh my gods, you’ve had a foal haven’t you! You’re… you’re a mother!” She span round in sheer childish delight as she realised what had been so obvious all this time. “Oh Bonnie, I wasn’t there when you delivered, but I’m here now! Please, you have to tell me all-”

“Lyra!” Bon Bon’s hoof shot out, halting her friend. “Lyra, listen, I… It’s not what you think.”

“What do you mean, ‘not what I think?” Suddenly all the blood drained from her face. “Bonnie… Oh, Celestia, you didn’t… You didn’t lose it, did you?”

“NO!” Bon Bon shook her mane in frustration. Her friend’s exuberance was beginning to wear on her now, and the other agents were looking in their direction, drawn by Lyra’s foolish antics. She took a breath and fished in her pocket, taking out a long silver tube-like device. “Lyra, I know this is going to sound weird, but at least this way I can tell you the truth that I wish I could have told you a year ago.”

“Truth?” Lyra blinked, “What are you talking about.”

Bon Bon scrunched up her face and looked up at the sky before looking into her friend’s eyes. She had a smile that was… troubling. “You remember the stories about a wendigo in Manehattan?”

Lyra nodded blankly, “I do. You said it was a load of bollocks made up by an overactive imagination. The agency looked into it and proved it was a hoax, didn’t they?”

“Oh, it wasn’t a hoax,” Bon Bon said simply. “That was just a cover story. He’s called ‘Fairlight’. He has a small harem, a couple of children, and lives with a thestral on the borders of the Everfree. It’s a relatively small community of monsters that do the bidding of the princesses from time to time.” Lyra’s mouth moved soundlessly as she stared at her fried agog. Bon Bon shrugged, “Well, before the princesses decided to keep him around... I shot him.”

“You-?!”

“And then, as he lay wounded, I rode him like a rodeo bull.”

Lyra’s eyes were as wide as saucers, “I… You… DEAR GODS!” Lyra felt like she was going to throw up. “You, you can’t be serious! Oh my goddesses, Bonnie, that’s gotta be-” She nodded to herself vigorously, trying to make sense of what she was telling her. “Ahhh! I see. I see!” Lyra smiled, waving a hoof at her friend. “You nearly had me going there. Good one!”

“You think so?” Bon Bon shrugged, “Then here’s the punchline.” She leaned forward, smiling a little ominously for Lyra’s liking. “I’ve had his child...”

Lyra nearly choked, “You…?!”

“A child whose blood is half wendigo.” Bon Bon’s grin never reached her eyes, “One day he will be one of the most powerful mages in the land. Perhaps even powerful enough to rule Equestria, or maybe one of the outer kingdoms.” She shrugged, “I haven’t decided yet. Ah, so many possibilities!”

“Bonnie, please, you’re scaring me talking like that!” Lyra swallowed. Subconsciously she’d moved back, away from her friend. “This isn’t like you. If it’s a joke, then it isn’t funny!”

“No, I suppose it’s not.” Bon Bon mirthlessly laughed under her breath, “The wendigo didn’t think it was funny either.”

“But…” Lyra shook her head in disbelief. “But that means you shot an innocent stallion and.. and you raped him?!”

Bon Bon’s eyes darkened as her voice dropped to a menacing snarl, “He was not innocent, and a mare cannot rape a stallion.” Suddenly her tone lightened, “That would be just silly!”

“Bonnie...” A wash of ice cold flooded through Lyra as she stared helplessly at her friend. The friend she had known since foalhood. They’d gone to school together. Lived together. Done everything together. This… This mare… This was a stranger. This wasn’t Bon Bon. It couldn’t be! “Why? Why are you doing this?” Lyra managed.

“Why? Because I can?” Bon Bon smiled.

And then Lyra realised something; she was frightened. Frightened of her own friend. “But why are you telling me this?”

The tan mare shrugged and replaced her sunglasses. “Ah, well that’s simple,” she said pleasantly. She held up the silver tube in front of Lyra eyes. “That’s because… you’ll never remember any of it.”

There was a high pitched whine and the world flashed a vivid red.

Epilogue

“And that kiddies, is why you don’t just ‘assume’ anything about history.”

A young mare lifted a hoof, “Miss?”

“Yes, Pandora?”

“Do you think humans really exist?”

There was a brief chuckle amongst the ponies in the auditorium before the green mare in the black cape and mortarboard hat treated them to her very particular stare, “I think there is compelling evidence to suggest that they did.”

A slim blue unicorn in the auditorium let out a bellowing guffaw which was quickly followed up by those sitting near him shifting away. The tutor’s yellow eyes locked onto him with all the intensity of a search light, “Ah, Mister Frame, wasn’t it?”

The male froze. Noticing he was well and truly the centre of attention he visibly paled, but tried to rally all the same. “Yes, Miss Heartstrings,” he croaked.

“Good.” Lyra smiled her thin smile, “Would you like to explain to the class why you find the possibility of the existence of humans in Equestria so amusing?”

“I-” Frame coughed, quickly snatching up a drink of water one of his classmates leaned over to pass him, rather pointedly at forelegs reach. “The only real ‘study’,” he began with the use of air quotes over the word ‘study’, “was by the widely discredited writer Hidden Path. I know he studied here when he was a colt, but I’d hesitate to call the guy an academic. He was more of a conspiracy theorist than a serious archaeologist.”

Lyra nodded, “He was certainly the proponent of several theories regarding the history of the planet.” The green mare changed the slide on the overhead projector. A large image of Equestria appeared on the screen behind her, “Hidden path believed that- Yes, Miss Pandora?”

The young mare at the front of the class put down her hoof, “Hidden Path believed in the theory of ancient lost civilisations and pre-equine technologies which have left little to no trace in the archaeological or historical record.”

“Very good, Miss Pandora. Mister Frame, your counter argument?” Lyra offered.

Frame shot Pandora a hard look. The challenge had been made. “The lack of evidence doesn’t prove something ‘may’ have existed!” he said, furrowing his brow. “With that logic you could suggest that fish could walk and petunias created the sea and air!”

“Maybe she did,” a voice said behind him.

Frame looked over his shoulder in irritation, “What?”

“Petunia,” the other student replied with a smirk. “She’s taking extra classes after all.”

“Oh, belt up!” Frame snapped.

Lyra held up a hoof for order as laughter at Frame’s furious expression rippled around the auditorium. “Now please, everypony,” she said with a smile, “Mister Frame is correct in his summation.” That shut them up. Lyra grinned to herself. She’d always loved lecturing, and today with the sun out and the sky as blue as one of the finest holiday snaps, she was in her element. “The lack of evidence doesn’t suggest, prove, nor disprove anything. As archaeologists and historians we must always rein ourselves in from the temptation to ‘fill the gap’ with speculation and wishful thinking. However,” she pointed a hoof at the next image on the OHP, “There is evidence that humans, or creatures that we call humans today, may have existed on Equestria before ponies.” A picture of a vaguely ape like creature holding a club appeared to giggles and a lot of jovial shoves, no doubt likening the two legged beings to things far from complimentary. “I will say however that in respect to Hidden Path, that his theories are precisely that: they are theories. Nothing more. There is evidence which we have unearthed of what may prove some day to be that of a lost civilisation, but it may also prove to be nothing more than pony made items constructed farther back in history than we, with our current understanding, know. Take for instance the Crystal Empire. Many believe that to be myth, but there are countless examples of crystalline structures across the continent, as well as in historical accounts that point to the existence of such a civilisation.”

“But if humans did exist, where are they now?” a mare from the back of the auditorium asked. “There would be bones, or something, surely.”

“Maybe there are and we just haven’t found them yet?” another answered. “We haven’t explored the whole planet, so who knows, maybe there are humans living somewhere that we just haven’t discovered yet.”

That set the rest chatting. Lyra was about to answer when the school bell rang. “That’s it it for today, class,” she announced, switching off the projector. “I’ll be here until five if any of you have anything you’d like to cover before our next lesson.”

The scene abruptly faded, the sound clicking off. A hoof moved away from the screen, tapping on a sheaf of papers. “She seems quite at home here.” The stallion watched the figure of the green mare wiping the blackboard happily.

“Yes, it’s a much better environment than the one she was in.”

“You sound doubtful.” The orange coated male turned to face the suited female sitting beside him, “You object to our methods?”

“I am part of those methods, Warlock.” The mare tossed her red and white candy striped mane, “Don’t forget that.”

Warlock’s mouth twitched slightly. There was a menace in Agent Sweetie’s voice which irritated him. She was a good agent, and useful to have around. More importantly he needed loyalty, now more than ever. Still, if she ever proved to be an inconvenience, having her ‘removed’ would be simple enough. And Warlock did so hate ‘inconveniences’. “Do you think she remembers anything?” he asked.

Sweetie’s expression was its usual self – utterly devoid of emotion. “No.” She took a breath and switched off the monitor, “If she had then I would have taken action to rectify the problem.”

Warlock wasn’t sure whether to be surprised, relieved, or horrified at the casual tone of Sweetie’s voice when talking about her friend being a problem that needed rectifying. He was under no illusion as to what ‘rectifying the problem’ meant. “Then I will leave the matter in your hooves,” he said in his businesslike manner. “Miss Heartstrings was nothing more than a fly in the ointment, that was all. There are bigger matters that need our attention.”

“Indeed,” Sweetie agreed.

“And the child?”

“In good health,” Sweetie said quietly. “The surrogate family are delighted to have been allowed to adopt a young unicorn, especially after having tried so hard to start a family without success.” She glanced down at the paperwork, “We vetted then quite thoroughly to ensure there are no… ‘deviations’ from the norm.”

“The financial package would no doubt ensure the foal’s adequate schooling?” Warlock offered.

Sweetie’s expression never changed, “Until the child is old enough to be inducted into our fold, yes.”

“And the family?”

“I- We are the child’s true family,” Sweetie said firmly. “When that day comes then the family will be surplus to requirements. That, however, is in the future. And the future, as we know, can be quite unpredictable.”

Warlock’s mouth thinned, “Quite.”

“Any news from the investigation team?”

The orange stallion nodded, “The master portal has been secured, however the mare known as ‘Galeus’ detonated explosives when she and her ponies passed through, destroying the majority of the equipment there and severely damaging the structure.”

Sweetie nodded, “How many did we lose?”

“Fourteen dead. Twenty two wounded.”

“Replacements?”

“Central recruitment is taking care of that now. We expect to be back up to full strength by the end of the month, less training times.”

“Have we been able to gather anything from the prisoners?”

“Nothing of any importance,” Warlock said simply. “Most are nothing more than farmers or primitives who merely provided services to the citadel residents.”

“What about the beasts?” Sweetie asked.

“The creatures known as zeks have been eliminated,” Warlock replied, leafing through the papers before him. “We tried to capture several for study, but they were impervious to everything we threw at them.”

“Excepts bullets.”

Warlock just nodded, “We managed to capture one of the things known as ‘Chocks.’ Our scientists are examining it now, although I doubt we’ll be able to discover much from it.”

Sweetie let out a quiet huff, “We’ll see.” She shook her head, staring at the photograph of a shape high in the sky, vanishing towards the horizon. “Any information on the human?”

“Not as yet,” Warlock said firmly. He leaned forward to look at the photograph. “We sent two pegasi after it but the shield prevented them from chasing after the craft.”

“No matter.” Sweetie sighed, leaning back in her chair and rolling her shoulders,“Something that large and with a creature so alien to our world on board will be easy enough to track down once our agents in the area pick up the trail.”

Warlock nodded, “I’ll keep you informed.”

“Good.” Sweetie rose and walked towards the door. It had been a long day. Lyra was home, her mind wiped of anything that could be potentially embarrassing, or ‘inconvenient’ to the population should it get out. The ponies on the island were receiving similar treatment and would be resettled with new lives, new identities, and a better future than they would have had on that cursed island. What to do with the place was being decided elsewhere, but it would probably remain as what it was – a place to send things you wanted to be rid of. The ancient ponies were a clever lot, and Galeus was right at the top of that particular little list. But what was that creature really after, and just as importantly - where had she gone? Currently nopony knew, but it was only a matter of time before she resurfaced. Her type always did. Sooner or later. As for humans… They had enough to deal with the ones who had been popping up in Manehattan without more of them polluting the planet with their accursed presence. The flying machine intrigued her though. But that, like so much else, was for another day. She patted her pockets, checking that the cinema tickets were still there. She and Lyra would enjoy a night out tonight, and afterwards… who knows? Her hoof reached for the door…

“Oh, and Warlock?”

The orange stallion looked up, “Yes?”

“About what happened at the archaeological dig site.”

“The area has been cleansed, and-”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Sweetie said firmly. “You and your agents acted rashly and without my express orders.” She leaned her head down, fixing him with a hard blue eyed stare over her sunglasses. “If you or any of you ponies put Lyra in danger again, I shall deal with the situation… personally. Do I make myself clear?”

Warlock was as still as a statue as their eyes met, “Crystal.”

“Good!” Sweetie abruptly smiled. With a flurry of her overcoat she swept out of the room and shut the door firmly behind her. The cinema was showing ‘The Lost Continent’ tonight. It was just the sort of thing that Lyra enjoyed, and although she hated that sort of fantasy rubbish, her childhood friend deserved an evening of simple relaxation and entertainment after everything she’d endured recently. And who could say, maybe she too would find some pleasure in the story of another people from another time and another world.

After all, the lack of evidence didn’t prove that it didn’t exist, right?

“Miss?” an agent called from the front door. “Your taxi is here.”

Sweetie took off her sunglasses and tapped the magical emblem on her ID pass. In a flash of magic her mane changed from its red and white candy striped appearance to that of its natural pink and blue.

“Enjoy your night off, Ma’am,” the stallion said politely.

As Bon Bon walked towards the taxi she gave him a wink, “Oh, I intend to,” she smiled. “I certainly do!”

The old clock on the wall ticked steadily away just as it always had, marking the inexorable passage of time for as long as anypony could remember. Some believed the archaic thing had been brought from the old castle of the two sisters, but in truth it was far newer. Lyra smiled to herself as she made a note in her diary to use it as a talking point in her next lecture. She wrote the title, ‘First impressions and how they can be deceptive’. It was certainly true in this instance. The clock, far from being some ancient artefact of inestimable value, was in actual fact a replacement for the one that had been accidentally smashed by cleaners when the lecture hall had been renovated some thirty four years ago. Whatever happened to the remains of this old timepiece is now sadly lost to history, together with any study of its true provenance. In any case the faculty decided to have the replacement made to resemble the original in every way. The discreet makers mark, however, was the real giveaway as to the clock's true age. They were still in business to this very day in Shallow Falls. The answer to the question was always there, you just had to know where to look.

“Excuse me? Miss Heartstrings?”

Lyra looked up at the young blue coated mare walking in through the door, “Ah, Miss Mille-feuilles, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Miss,” the newcomer replied a little shyly.

"You're here late," Lyra observed kindly. “What can I do for you?”

The student reached behind her and removed a parcel from her saddle bag which she then placed on the table. “A lady at the front desk left this for you," she explained. "The receptionist asked me to drop it off for you on my way to the locker room.”

“Really?” Lyra raised an eyebrow. “Thank you, I’ll have a look at it in a minute.” She hadn’t been expecting anything in the post today, especially at work. Huh! It was probably more rubbish from the union or a new diary or something else less than exciting. She smiled her thanks at the girl who left with an odd little smile on her face. Kids! Lyra watched her go, and clucked her tongue irritably. She’d left the bloody door open again!

Getting up and closing the door, Lyra turned to walk back to her desk. It was getting on towards five and this morning Bonnie had told her explicitly not to be late back tonight. Did she have a surprise dinner planned perhaps? Maybe a concert? Lyra shrugged as a smile crossed her lips at the thought of her friend staring at her watch and tapping her hoof as she watched the seconds tick by waiting for Lyra to come home. She’d catch up with her work later, but it wasn’t like it was urgent or anything. What would a few hours hurt? She picked up her panniers, lifted her overcoat onto her back, and looked at the parcel sitting on the edge of her desk. It was wrapped in brown paper and string like ponies use to do with books back when she was a foal. It was certainly old fashioned packaging, but not that unusual. Something about it though…

Lyra floated out a pair of scissors and snipped the string. Slipping off the paper covering her eyes went wide, “Dear goddesses…!” There, sitting there as bold as brass, was a book. Her book. Humans: Fact or Fairytale? She thought she’d lost it! Oh, merciful Celestia! Lyra almost squealed in joy. The question of what had happened to this most precious of tomes was a mystery that had upset her for weeks, and she’d rather guiltily suspected Bonnie had thrown it out when she hadn’t been looking. And yet here it was! There was note inside too, and another smaller book - a small musty smelling book with a faded gold letter ‘G’ in the corner. How odd! She’d look at that later. For now she lifted the note to see which kindly soul had returned her lost treasure. Lyra’s brows knitted in thought as she stared at the strange inscription. It was a small bunch of yellow flowers. Three of them in fact, and the words, ‘With love,’ above the initials, ‘B’ and ‘C’ intertwined.

“Miss Heartstrings?” It was the janitor. “There’s a taxi waiting for you outside. Should I tell them to hang on?”

“No, no...” Lyra felt a strange itch in her horn as her attention drifted from the note to the small black book. “No, I’m coming now, Bristles.” She scooped up the books and stashed them in her panniers. She’d definitely have a look later, along with a nice hot mug of cocoa and a few biscuits. After all, what was an archaeologist without a good mystery to solve?

And Lyra did so love mysteries.

FIN