“... The night shall be as day. A thousand-thousand suns shall erupt in the sky. The heavens from north-to-south and east-to-west shall be set ablaze with fire and light. All of the stars in the universe shall be consumed. That which was torn asunder shall be reforged, and the horizon shall be destroyed and remade. The sun shall swallow the sun, and the moon shall swallow the moon. Here in, ends the third age. The world begins to shine again, and The Children of the Sun and Moon who were lost shall be found.

“May the Two Who Are One save us from nothingness. May they save us from themselves.” — Fragment of prophecy believed written by Star Swirl the Bearded. The rest of the manuscript is lost. (Date unknown)

Chapter 57: Gilda

Maybe her old flight school friend Dash would be willing to take her in, Gilda thought to herself as she carefully wiped snow from the bridge of her beak with a talon. She’d checked out of The Last Claw two days ago—three days later than she’d intended. For whatever reason, the guard change to Luna’s prison had been delayed. At first she thought she had simply missed it. And so she had sat in her room, staring out the window the whole time, not sleeping at all for the entire three days. But finally, she spotted a supply wagon and twenty-five gryphons leaving the city. The wagon was very large, but primitive and unmarked. It could easily have been mistaken for a common peddler's wagon. Most of the gryphons wore armor, but it was unmarked and crude, mostly consisting of steel plates sewn onto leather jerkins to create a primitive form of mail. It was a far cry from the plate armor of the Gryphon Army. Still, it had to be them, she had assumed, even though twenty-five seemed like a lot. No one would leave the city in this accursed weather if they had the choice not to. There had been near blizzard conditions at the time, and the snow and wind still hadn’t let up. Perhaps the peddler’s wagon and the primitive armor meant they were just trying to maintain a low profile. The crude mail would make them look like merchant’s guards, although twenty-five would seem like a very large number to be guarding one wagon. Unless, the goods it contained were extremely valuable, intended for sale to nobles and other wealthy gryphons. But she supposed one couldn’t be too careful when it came to holding an alicorn prisoner. Perhaps twenty-five wasn’t so many after all, even if the alicorn in question was surely locked in a cell made of cold iron bars, and was probably wearing a magic suppressing horn ring for added assurance. Besides, only the largest bands of raiders or bandits would dare attack a wagon with twenty-five guards. And even if the wagon did look like a tempting target, the thieves would likely have a nasty surprise in store for them when they discovered that the merchant’s guards were really highly trained Gryphon Army soldiers.

The driving snow and biting wind was actually a harsh blessing. It kept the gryphon guards and their supply wagon grounded. Given the darkness, it would have been impossible for her to track them from the air. As it was, she was tracking entirely by sound. She was also upwind of them, which carried her scent right to them. Had they been scouts like her, they would have easily detected that someone was following them by smell. But apparently her scent mingled enough with their own that they couldn’t tell the difference. Although being upwind of them wasn’t harming her, it certainly wasn’t helping her either. Without scent, and given it was pitch black, the only thing she could track by was sound. She didn’t dare use a lantern to look for tracks. Might as well light a signal flare as do that. At least the wind rushing through the forest and causing the trees to squeak and groan in protest was helping to cover her own sound. Not that she made much sound when she moved. Fortunately, sound was something the guards made plenty of, between the skids of their cart slicing through the snow, and their frequent bursts of laughter and bouts of raucous singing of old war songs. The fools were probably drunk, thinking the ale would keep them warm. Gilda knew better. Anyway, there was no way the guards would hear her over all that.

The fact that the road ran through the forest was something else to be thankful for. It provided her with cover, as well as kept her at least somewhat sheltered from the wind. The guards, tied to the road as they were by their wagon, had to take the full brunt of the gale.

Of course, the fact that she was upwind of them also meant she couldn’t light any fires for warmth or cooking. Even through the pelting snow, the glow would probably be visible. But if it weren’t, even those idiots would probably be able to smell a campfire that was upwind of them. And so, for the last two days, she’d eaten frozen meat, and relied on melting snow with her own body warmth to quench her thirst. And when they had stopped to make camp for the night, she’d slept outside, exposed to the elements, making the best of whatever natural cover she could find. Last night, she’d slept under a large pine tree, the branches drooping heavily with the weight of snow. They had provided a windbreak, as well as concealed her form. She had still had to shake snow off herself every thirty minutes or so, but that was probably just as well, as it helped make sure she slept very lightly, ensuring she’d hear the guards when they started getting ready to move again. In these conditions, they wouldn’t need too much of a head start on her for her to lose them. And if she did, finding them again would be nigh impossible, even though they were sticking to the road for now. Eventually, they would turn off it. She was sure of that. And when they did, they’d have to abandon their cart and go the rest of the way on foot, carrying their supplies on their backs. The fools probably thought they’d be harder to track once they left the road, given they wouldn’t be following a predictable path anymore. But for a scout like Gilda, they’d actually be even easier to track once they were in the forest. They’d make even more noise than they already were, tromping through the woods like elephants, breaking and bending branches, knocking snow off trees, and leaving their scent on anything they scraped passed. To her, all of those things served as signposts. Calling cards that would lead her right to them. Even those who thought they were being very careful to cover their tracks and leave no trace of themselves were usually surprised to find that she could track them easily. She shivered slightly as a particularly strong gust of wind hit her from behind, whipping snow into her back like thousands of tiny, frozen pins. The guards had begun their drunken singing again. She could hear several voices clearly—both male and female—although no two of them were in sync with each other, or singing on the same key for that matter.

Flying gryphons own the sky

Honor ours to fight and die

Lion’s claws and eagle’s jaws

They flee in fear with gaping maws

Look the enemy in the eye

Who’s afraid to die? Not I!

On second thought, forget asking Dash to take her in. That purple unicorn better offer her her full military pension for this. In fact, the ponies better give her a medal for this mission. Certainly, the ponies had to know they were going to have to give her political asylum in Equestria when this was all over. Any chance that she could ever return to the Gryphon Kingdom had ended when she’d written the fake suicide note. In fact, she thought, smiling to herself and wiping another patch of snow from her beak, the unicorn would find the tables turned once Gilda knew where Luna was. She’d have that horned pony completely under her paws then. No doubt, she’d agree to give her anything she asked for in exchange for the information. Oh sure, the pony could threaten to toss her in the dungeon for the rest of the her life again if she didn’t cough up the goods. But that threat wouldn’t work this time. The information she had was too valuable. Oh, she might spend a few days in the dungeon, but the little pony would break first this time and be begging her for the information she had. She’d be able to name her price.

Suddenly, she realized she couldn’t hear the noise of the cart anymore. She stopped abruptly, listening intently as her heart pounded inside her. A chill crept up her that was not from the cold. How long had the noise been gone? Had they heard her and stopped to listen? To see if something was following them? She mentally cursed herself for her lack of discipline; for allowing herself to get so caught up in her thoughts about the demands she would make of Twilight Sparkle. She wanted to move deeper into the woods and put more trees between her and the guards. But she didn’t dare move now. She didn’t dare make any sound at all.

Slowly, she took in a deep breath and held it. It was easier to listen for faint sounds without competition from the sound of your own breathing. But still, all she heard was the wind, the creaking of the trees, and the occasional puff sound of a pile of snow falling off a branch onto the ground. The silence seemed to continue for an eternity, but in reality she knew had probably only been a few seconds. At least, a few seconds that she was aware of. She had no idea how long they had been still while she was allowing herself to be distracted by thoughts of that unicorn.

Then she heard noises at the cart again, the sound of the doors being unlocked and opened, and voices reached her ears once more.

“Who’d we piss off to get assigned to this awful duty anyway, huh?” a male voice asked.

“Hold your tongue and get that pack strapped on. And consider the honor of being chosen to guard the most valuable prisoner that the kingdom has ever held,” a female voice responded.

“Honor be damned,” the other voice responded with a spitting sound. “I’d rather have a warm fire, a mug of ale, and a dry floor under my paws.”

“The faster you get that pack strapped on, the sooner we can be off, and the sooner you’ll have that warm fire,” a third male voice responded. “And you’ve had more than enough ale already. All of you have. At the rate you’re all going, you’ll have it gone before we even get there.” He spoke with a hint of a slur that suggested he’d been drinking just as much as the ones he was accusing of drinking too much.

Finally, Gilda slowly let out the breath it felt like she had been holding forever. They hadn’t heard her, then. They were just getting ready to turn off the road.

Once again, they started making enough racket for a construction zone as they strapped packs on to their backs, moved supplies out of the cart, and prepared to enter the woods. She took advantage of the noise to backtrack a few hundred feet and conceal herself carefully among the pines. It would do no good for them to enter the forest and run right into her. Although, that was assuming they entered her side of the woods. Both sides of the road were forested, and there was just as much chance they could go the other direction. If they did that, there was a chance she’d lose them, as she’d have to wait long enough to make sure they had gone the other way before she dared leave her cover and go down to the road. She said a quick prayer to the Great Eagle that they would turn this way. Then, for good measure, she threw in another prayer for the Lioness Goddess, although the Great Eagle God would likely help her more for a task that involved scouting. Although, she probably couldn’t expect help from either one, given she was betraying her own kind, who were, in fact, the offspring of the gods: The sons and daughters of the union between Eagle and Lioness. She’d be lucky if the gods even let her out of this one alive.

She heard twigs snapping now, followed by a curse as presumably one of the guards had gotten their pack hung up on a branch. But she couldn’t tell yet how close they were. She’d need a few more sounds to triangulate where it was coming from, and thus determine which side of the forest they had entered. Fortunately, the fools continued making just as much noise as they had been, and then some now that they were loping through the trees like a bull moose crashing through a thicket. It didn’t take her long to determine that they had entered her side of the woods. Maybe the gods were on her side after all. Then again, it was more likely she’d just been lucky, given there’d only been two directions they could have taken.

For the next several hours, she continued to follow them deeper into the forest, the pines becoming more dense, and the snow becoming less deep as the canopy overhead kept more of it in the trees. Eventually, she even reached spots where she felt her paws on bare ground, which turned out to be a slimy, slippery mixture of wet undergrowth. Ahead of her, and slightly to her left, another twig snapped, followed by another curse. She adjusted her course slightly in response. They were just as easy to track through the forest as she’d expected they’d be, leaving calling cards everywhere in the form of broken twigs and scent deposits on branches they brushed against. Occasionally, she even found feathers, and once, a small smearing of blood where a twig must have scratched one of them.

She had to be very careful now, keeping track of how fast she was moving, and how long she’d been traveling. Gryphons had a strong natural navigation ability, thanks to their eagle heritage. But she still needed to keep track of how far off the road they were going to be able to mark their destination on a map later.

Eventually, they stopped again, and began talking of making camp for the night. Carefully, she backtracked again, putting a hundred feet or so of distance between them. They’d be looking for dry wood to start a fire, and she wanted to make sure there was no chance of them running into her. The guards begin putting up tents, although from the amount of noise they made, one could have been excused for thinking they were putting up concrete buildings instead. Were they always this careless? Given where they were going, and who they were being sent to guard, they should have been sending a scout back behind them on a regular basis to check whether they were being followed. Yet they hadn’t done so even once. Then again, perhaps they just assumed no one could follow them in this weather. The king might think Gilda an incompetent buffoon after her story about getting lost on her way to Canterlot. But the reality was she was one of the best scouts in the entire Gryphon Army, if not the best.

When the tent construction noise had ceased, she waited until she heard the sounds of pans being taken out, and other noises of food being prepared. She assumed that meant they had a fire going by now, and the gryphons who had been looking for firewood were back. She couldn’t smell any smoke, but she wouldn’t be able to because the wind would still be carrying it away from her. Cautiously, she began to creep back towards them, like a hunting lioness stalking a gazelle. It was an agonizingly slow process. She took one very careful step, then stopped to listen, then another careful step, and so on. She only moved when they were making noise. And between each step, she listened for any sign that they had heard her. As soon as she could see the faint orange glow of their fire through the snow, she stopped and looked around for cover, which was no easy task given she couldn’t see much further than her own beak in the moonless darkness. After a few careful steps, she found a pine with branches that sagged heavily under the weight of snow. She crouched, carefully working her way underneath it, and then lying down in a very lioness like way, covering as much of her body as possible with her wings. She could still see the glow of the campfire and make out moving shapes. But there was no way they’d be able to see her, especially given that they’d built their campfire between her and their tent. The glow of the fire would completely obscure their night vision in her direction.

And now, she waited, watching the shadows prepare their meal. Her own stomach growled from the sight, but she didn’t dare start eating yet. Not until she was sure they were all asleep. The fools probably wouldn’t post any sentries. They hadn’t done so the last two nights. As she waited for them to finish eating and turn in, she quietly gathered snow into a canteen, then placed the canteen between her body and one of her wings. It should be melted by the time they went to sleep and she was ready to eat.

The guards ate quickly, drinking from mugs that no doubt contained even more ale to wash down their meal. Then, one by one, they went into the tents they had set up. Glows appeared from inside the tents as they kindled fires on braziers to keep them warm at night, and smoke rose through the holes at the top center of each tent, glowing with an eerie luminescence from the fire before gradually fading into the darkness. The smoke was drifting to her left, she noted. It was always good to know exactly which direction the wind was coming from, and it meant the wind was no longer carrying her scent towards them. She said a small prayer of thanks to the Great Lioness for that, despite the fact that the guards hadn’t detected her yet. Not even when the wind had been carrying her scent directly to them. The sight of the glowing fires inside the tents teased her and made her long for Canterlot Castle and one of its many sitting rooms with large fireplaces on either end. For mulled wine …okay, hot tea, since the prissy ponies didn’t serve alcohol, and hot honey cakes drizzled with icing and … Stop it! she chided herself. You’re a soldier in the Gryphon Army. Not some softy who needs creature comforts like that! Still, the thought made her wish they would hurry up and get where they were going so she could be on her way to Equestria, and then in a nice toasty guest room in Canterlot Castle.

There were no shadows moving inside the tents now. Still, she waited another half-hour or so before she finally allowed herself to eat. The snow in the canteen had mostly melted, although now it was like drinking water with small chunks of ice in it. That hot tea was sounding even better now. For dinner, she had cold, raw wild boar steak. Had the steak been lightly seared on both sides and seasoned, but still mostly raw in the middle, it would have been a culinary delicacy to make Gustave le Grand proud. But frozen as it was, it had almost no flavor at all, and the texture was like chewing on an old leather boot that still had the metal lace holes in it. When she’d finished the bland meal and drank the nearly frozen water—which made her colder than she already was—she refilled the canteen with snow so it would be ready for tomorrow. Then she curled up, tucking the canteen against her body and covering as much of herself as she could with a wing, and allowed herself to drift off into a very light sleep.

She awoke sometime later to the sounds of another meal being prepared, and to the smell of roasting meat and wood smoke. The wind must have shifted again while she was sleeping. That was good for her mission, but bad for her stomach, which started to growl again as the cooking smells taunted her. Although the hot tea at Canterlot Castle would be welcome, meat was something she knew would not be on the menu.

Looking at the camp, she could clearly see a campfire, along with the well defined silhouettes of gryphons moving around it. The snow must have also stopped while she’d been asleep, although the wind was still strong. Fortunately, now that the soldiers were weighed down with heavy supply packs, it was unlikely they’d be able to fly even with the improved weather. Maybe the gods were on her side?

The soldiers finished their meal, put out their campfire, and then began striking their camp with all the noise of a major demolition project. She took the opportunity to eat her own breakfast, which again, was frozen meat and nearly frozen water to wash it down with. The soldiers, although making enough noise to alert the entire forest, worked quickly and efficiently, and had the tents down and stowed within their packs quickly. Then, they set out again towards their destination. Gilda waited until they were a safe distance away, then began to follow them.

Once again, the soldiers plodded through the dense forest with all the grace of a bull moose charging a territorial rival. There was no singing this time, but occasionally, one or another would complain about their splitting headache, or various other symptoms that were no doubt triggered by the copious amounts of ale they had consumed the previous day.

For hours, they plodded through the forest, and she continued to follow. They didn’t stop for lunch this time, which probably meant they were getting close to their destination. Either that, or they were behind schedule. She hoped it was the former.

Finally, after just over eleven hours, Gilda could see the very faint silhouettes of trees that were being lighted from the other side. Not long after that, she could make out a small clearing in the trees.

“You’re late,” she heard a gruff female voice call out, laced with irritation.

“Take it up with someone higher than us, Commander. We were delayed because of logistical problems. The supplies we needed weren’t in place,” a male voice responded.

“Anyway, one of you lucky soldiers gets to go back to Gryphon City with us,” the female who was apparently the current facility commander responded. “Albinus requested that he be allowed to stay here.”

“Why would anyone request to stay here?” another voice asked, sounding shocked.

“Claims he had a falling out with his wife and wants to stay as far away from her as possible for now. She must be one lioness of a character if he’s more afraid of her than of what we got inside here. Personally, I’d rather be guarding thirty unmuzzled dragon prisoners than one alicorn. If she gets loose … Well, everyone has their own worst fears, I suppose. Guess for him it’s his wife. Although, I—”

“Begging your pardon, Commander, but can we save the talk for a warm fire somewhere inside?”

“Right, of course. I’ll let all of you fight it out as to which one of you gets to leave with us.”

They stopped talking after that, and Gilda could hear the sounds of chains being undone, followed by the sound of hinges that were in need of oil as something she assumed was the perimeter gate was opened. A few minutes later, she heard the sound again as it closed, along with the chains being restrung and the lock reapplied. A couple of voices resumed their idle chatter for another minute or so. She heard the sound of a heavy lock being unlatched, followed another squeaking sound as a door was opened. Shortly after, the sound of the door slamming shut and the lock being reengaged.

Gilda waited for a few more minutes to ensure there were no further sounds, then she carefully crept forward, stalking low to the ground like a cat following a mouse. Closer and closer to the end of the tree line she moved, making no sounds, each paw carefully set to ensure she stepped on no twigs or other debris that might make a noise and reveal her presence. When she reached a point where she could see through the trees, she stopped and surveyed the facility.

What she saw, was a fairly small concrete building with a low profile. A small courtyard with a poured concrete surface surrounded the building. The courtyard itself was surrounded by a very tall fence, rimmed at the top with razor wire as a last line of defence against prisoner escape. There was no snow on the concrete, or on top of the building. Looking up, it was clear why. A large camouflage canopy with patterns intended to mimic the surrounding trees covered the entire facility. At first, Gilda herself had barely noticed it. It would make the facility very difficult to spot from the air.

This must be one of the fabled secret prisons that the Gryphon Kingdom maintained in several parts of the empire, she realized. She knew that several such prisons existed, although she had never seen one before, nor had she known where any of them were. All of them were said to be relatively small—intended only for holding very high profile prisoners who posed a high escape risk, or where it was thought there was a high risk of a rescue attempt. A large portion of each facility was said to be underground, with only the first level having an above-ground structure.

She took a better look at the building itself now. There were no windows, and in the dim lights of the courtyard—which were also shielded on top to prevent any light from shining into the sky—the concrete construction looked very new, as did the poured concrete of the courtyard. She determined the facility must be a relatively new one, no doubt constructed with the recently discovered process of fusing cold iron with concrete. The slightly off color of the concrete, and the occasional metallic gleam reflecting the light confirmed her suspicions.

Gilda didn’t know much about how cold iron was made, and the process of fusing it together with concrete was one of the Kingdom’s most closely guarded secrets. Many said that cold iron wasn’t really iron at all, and that it wasn’t even a natural element, but rather an extremely complex amalgam of several different elements that had to be combined in exact ratios to form compound elements, which then had to be combined to form more complex compound elements, and so on. But the gryphons who said that were unlikely to know anything more about it than she did. What she did know about it, was that cold iron prevented magic users from being able to cast any spells. Put a unicorn in a room constructed of concrete fused with cold iron, and they might as well have no magical ability at all for all the good it did them. The prison she was looking at had been specifically constructed for holding magic users.

She also knew enough to know that the more powerful the magic user, the more cold iron was needed to hold them. To hold an alicorn …the amount must be truly immense, if it were even possible to hold an alicorn with cold iron. But whether it was or wasn’t possible seemed to be of little consequence. If Luna could have escaped, she would have done so by now. And one thing was certain: The cold iron contained in the concrete of the facility would definitely be enough to prevent unicorn guards from using magic while they were inside. Furthermore, the building would effectively be a trap for any unicorns that attempted to teleport inside and rescue Luna. It was very risky for a unicorn to teleport into an enclosed area they weren’t familiar with to begin with. After all, if they teleported themselves into the same location as a wall, or other object, it would cause them serious injury at best, or outright kill them at worst. But if one of them did successfully teleport into the building, they’d find themselves unable to teleport out again. She had expected the bars of the cell they were holding Luna in to be made from cold iron. But the process of fusing cold iron and concrete was so new that it had never occurred to her that the entire building would be constructed with cold iron. How were the ponies ever going to get her out of there?

She turned her mind to other things. How they were going to get her out was for the Equestrian Royal Guard to worry about. She surveyed the rest of the area, gathering as much information as she could. Right now, there were only two guards at the gate, and their night vision would be impaired because of the lights in the courtyard. It was unlikely they could see the tree line at all, much less anything beyond it.

She crept backwards, deeper in the forest, placing each paw very lightly before stepping down, again feeling for any twigs or other debris that might make noise if she stepped on it. Then, she slowly worked her way around the other sides of the facility. The guarded gate at the front, she noted, was both the only entrance into or out of the perimeter, and the only part of the perimeter that was always guarded. However, she counted four roving guards making patrols around the rest of the perimeter. Like the guards at the gate, the courtyard lighting would ensure they couldn’t see very far beyond the perimeter fence. There was one other door in the building, on the opposite side of the one that was facing the gate. There were no windows on any side of the building. Looking at the roof, she noticed two air vents. Other than the two doors, those appeared to be the only other openings that would lead into the building. Although they looked like they might be large enough to crawl through, they had thick bars and heavy screens over the openings to prevent anyone from attempting to do so. She remained still for awhile longer, timing the average amount of time it took the roving guards to make one complete round of the perimeter fence. Confident she’d gathered all of the useful data she could about the place, she quickly gathered her bearings using her natural compass, then turned west and crept deeper into the woods, moving at a crouch, stalking like a lioness, until she was sure she was far enough away that there was no chance of anyone from the prison seeing or hearing her.

She noted the time on her pocket watch, did a few calculations based on all of the data she’d collected so far, then pulled her map out of her pack and lit a match so she could see it. She’d brought an ink well and pen, but the ink was completely frozen, so she simply punched a small hole in the map with her talon where the prison was located. Then she put out the match, folded the map, and secured it in her pack again. She threw the spent match in her pack, too. She wasn’t taking any chances of leaving evidence that someone had been there.

Next, she drank the entire contents of her water canteen, then spread her wings, and carefully took to the sky, rising in a hover until she was clear of the trees. She flew west, praying to the Great Eagle for a strong tailwind. She experimented with different altitudes, although the higher she went, the colder it got. But it didn’t take her long before she found the tailwind she was looking for, giving her extra speed, pushing her further and further west. She estimated the strength of the tail wind and figured it would add fifty knots to her speed. As she flew, she was very careful to note any changes in wind direction or speed. That, combined with the information she’d kept track of when they’d walked to the prison earlier, would be critical for her later when she needed to triangulate the position of the prison and make sure the original mark she’d made on her map was accurate.

Briefly, she considered stopping for dinner. It’d been about thirteen hours since she’d last eaten. But given she was a full-fledged traitor now, the sooner she was out of gryphon territory and over the Sea of Tears, the safer she’d feel. That, and the hot tea and blazing hearth in Canterlot castle were calling to her.

She’d flown for about two hours in complete darkness before the air suddenly turned colder and she could smell salt in her nostrils, a sure sign that she had crossed the coast and was over the sea now. Again, she made a note of how long she’d been flying. One could never have too many reference points for navigation.

Once safely over the sea, she let her mind wander to Canterlot again, and the demands she would make of the ponies in exchange for the information she had. Perhaps a fancy house in the city to go with her full pension. A house fit for a noble. It’s the least she deserved from them given how much risk they had asked … no, forced her to take on in this mission, as well as the fact that she could never return home again.

“Traitor!” a voice screeched from above her, sending a shock through her. Almost on instinct, she banked sharply to the left, performing a knife edge turn. It was the only thing that saved her life. She felt a strong rush of air, and something collide with her wing tip as another gryphon dove down from above. Had he not foolishly announced his presence by shouting out that word, she would be dead right now.

She pitched upward, pumping her wings to gain altitude. Even with her night vision, it was so dark with no moon that it was very difficult to see anything. A shifting air current below her, and the sound of his wings pointed out his location, though. She extended the talons on her front feet and the razor sharp claws of her leonine hind paws. At the same time, she reversed direction and dove, slamming into him from above. She dug her hind claws into his back, trying to secure her position and snap at the back of his neck. He flapped a wing, trying to power his way free. She caught it with a forepaw, digging her talons into it. He screeched loudly, but managed to tear himself away from her, although she had no doubt he’d done significant damage to his wing in the process.

Still, he was fast, and spun himself around quickly so she couldn’t attack his unguarded side again. But Gilda pressed her advantage and made a frontal attack. Once again, the two of them locked together, scraping and slashing with claws and talons. He was larger than her, but she knew how to use that to her advantage.

He darted his head forward, attempting to get his beak around her neck. He overshot because of his larger size, his head sliding over the top of hers instead. That mistake had left his neck completely exposed and vulnerable. She wasted no time before exploiting the opportunity, her beak closing around the underside of his neck and pulling backwards roughly. Warm blood flooded into her mouth like a fountain, and she knew she’d scored a killing bite. He tried to hang on to her, tried to screech again, but all that came out was a gurgle. It was clear from his relaxing grip that his strength was ebbing out of him along with his blood. Then, his claws released her, and she roughly kicked him away with her hind legs, sending him plummeting into the Sea of Tears below them.

Shark food, she thought to herself, wincing at the pain in her side while at the same time chastising herself for being so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t realized the attack from above before he announced his presence. She lowered a talon, carefully feeling the wound in her side. It didn’t feel too deep, but it was deep enough. Although she could feel the wetness of some blood, it didn’t seem to be soaked with it.

Briefly, she considered turning around and landing on the shore to tend the wound, but discarded the idea as being extremely dangerous. She was certain the gryphon who had attacked her had not followed her from the prison. She would have been aware of him before then, and he certainly would have attacked sooner. That meant he had to be a member of a shore patrol, probably sent here to intercept deserters who were trying to defect to Equestria. She had heard rumors that at least one unit had done so already. If she turned around and went back towards shore, there was a high chance she’d run into another one. It was equally likely that if she landed on shore, she’d land right in the middle of whatever Gryphon Army camp the shore patrols were originating from.

And so, there was nothing for it but to turn west and continue out over the sea towards Canterlot, hope the wound wasn’t serious, and if it was, pray she didn’t bleed out before she got there.