Death Valley

by Rambling Writer

34 - Raid Cooldown

Carrying a dead body sucked, and a necromancer had even more reasons for that than a normal pony. Amanita wished she’d had enough ingredients to do something with Scallion’s corpse, if only to get it walking again. But she’d killed the mare, so she was carrying the body back. At least it wouldn’t be too far.

There was something different about the forest now. It still looked the same, but some of the menace was intangibly gone. The trees didn’t seem quite so clawlike and the darkness wasn’t as deep. There wasn’t any feeling that something was stalking them just beyond the light. Even the breeze didn’t seem to chill that much. Maybe capturing Lixivia had done something. Maybe Amanita was still riding the high of saving Whippletree. She was too busy with Scallion’s body to think much, and Whetstone was very resolutely not staying near her.

“And remember that first morning?” Bitterroot said to Charcoal. “You immediately spotted that the river was off. If we’d’ve listened to you then, we could’ve nipped this in the bud first thing!”

“I know,” muttered Charcoal. She wasn’t nearly as… infernal as she’d been before; the flames were limited to small ones flicking out from her mane and tail or between the scales on her back. But it seemed to be enough to keep her warm and snow was melting in her path.

“And maybe-”

“I’m good for now, you jerk,” Charcoal growled and the flames around her pulsed. “I’ll let you know when that changes.”

Outside and with nothing trying to kill anybody, it was easier to get a look at Lixivia. She looked strange for an earth pony, thin and stretched and a little bit pallid, with an unkempt mane. Her palette was the sort Amanita thanked Celestia she wasn’t born with, an unappealing combination of reds and browns that didn’t really work no matter which way you sliced it. She was slung across Code’s back and had kept trying to escape for the first half of the trip. But the fetters were tight and strong; she couldn’t break them and she couldn’t even walk if she ever fell off Code’s back. Eventually, she just gave up and stopped straining.

She sure kept talking, though.

“Put me down,” she growled for the umpteenth time.

“No,” Code responded for the umpteenth time.

“You have no idea what’s going on here.”

“We’re working on it.”

“I can tell if you just let me go, like you should.”

“You can also tell us now.”

Lixivia pouted. She turned to Amanita and sneered. “You. Self-proclaimed necromancer. Tell them to unhoof me.”

Amanita had a choice between two responses and, thanks to her weariness from carrying Scallion, it actually took her a moment to make a decision. “Hey, Code?”

“Hmm?”

“Unhoof Lixivia.”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“Mmm… no.”

Amanita shrugged. “Well, I tried,” she said to Lixivia.

“You call yourself a necromancer? Ponies should fear you! You should have them at your beck and call! And if they don’t, you should kill them and-”

Amanita looked over her shoulder. Whippletree was trailing behind the group, wings loose and head hanging. She fell back until she was right next to him. She gave him a nudge. “She is alive,” she said. “Crosscut.”

Whippletree raised his head, his ears quivering. “An’ what does she think o’ me?” he asked. “Even if she’s hale and hearty, I killed her.”

“No, you didn’t. It was the timberwolf, and that’s how she’ll see it. Trust me.” Amanita glanced up the line. “Bitterroot, there? She turned into a timberwolf just last night.” Whippletree raised his head and his wings tightened. “It tried to attack us, but I never once thought it was Bitterroot doing that. It- It wasn’t anything like her. Crosscut’s going to see it the same way.”

Whippletree watched Bitterroot walking ahead of them, his ears flicking. “Truly?”

“Truly. I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”

“Well.” Whippletree managed to put a smile on his face. It didn’t seem as forced as some of Amanita’s smiles. “Let’s hope.”

“Bitterroot felt something similar after we saved her. Terrified of what she could’ve done or what could’ve happened. If you’re still unsure, you could try talking to her.”

“Thankee.”

And Whippletree held his head up as he walked.

Voices were still coming on down the line. “Put. Me. Down,” growled Lixivia. Did she ever need to breathe between all her whining? “I am-”

Code immediately came to a stop and did a slight twitch of her haunches that sent Lixivia sprawling. “Does anyone have a rope?” she asked. “Not a cord, a rope, nice and thick. …Anyone? No? Bummer.” Without another word, Code ripped one of her sleeves off and wadded it to a ball.

“What do you think you’re doing?” snapped Lixivia. “You need to release me! I am-”

The second Lixivia’s mouth was open its widest, Code stuffed the ball in. Lixivia tried screaming around the gag, but it was sufficiently muffled. She settled for glaring at Code.

“You sound much better,” Code said. She hefted Lixivia onto her back again and continued on.

Then, Amanita heard Charcoal speak up. “Bitterroot? I’m cold. Get me peeved again.”

“Why should I? What kind of kirin can’t keep themselves-”

Amanita coughed. There was one topic of conversation that would get broached eventually, so- “Also, uh, while things are… quiet,” she said. “Me and Code and Charcoal and Bitterroot… We… know about the Deormont.”

Whippletree’s semi-confidence was gone, immediately replaced with mixed shock and confusion. “I beg yer pardon?” he asked in a low voice.

“We learned just last night. We also don’t think your cult’s really a cult, so we’re leaving you alone. The Deormont’s what led us to you.”

Whippletree actually giggled, clapping a hoof to his mouth. “Heh. That makes things a load easier. ’Tis what I wanted tae speak wit’ Crosscut about that night. We were chasin’ our tails, keepin’ everything secret…”

---

They reached the edge of the forest before sunlight had even hit the valley floor. Tratonmane’s flecks of light came sparking out of the dark, one at a time, as the trees thinned. Then they heard the sounds: saws, chatter, even someone singing off-key. Crosscut and the lumberjacks. Amanita saw that Whippletree was tensing up.

Once they finally broke out of the trees, Arrastra suddenly turned to the crowd and said, “Everyone? Thankee fer yer help. Go tae the Waterin’ Cave, get yerselves a drink or three, an’ tell Cabin I’ll pay. Ye’ve earned it.”

A ragged cheer went up from the search party and they streamed for town. Soon, the only ones left were Amanita, Arrastra, Code, and Whippletree. The first three were all watching the last, who was gazing off to the side into the dark. At the lumberjacks. At Crosscut.

Amanita’s legs burned with Scallion’s weight, but she didn’t move. Making sure Whippletree was doing okay seemed more important at the moment. But he didn’t move, either. He stood there, watching, motionless except for his twitching wings and pawing hooves.

“Crosscut!” Arrastra suddenly yelled. “We got him!”

One of the ponies jerked like she’d been stuck with a pin. So did Whippletree. As he stayed frozen, Crosscut slowly walked towards them until her face was visible in Amanita’s hornlight. She stared at Whippletree, jaw slightly open.

Whippletree actually took a step back; his wings refused to stop twitching. “Crosscut, dona,” he said quietly. “I… Please, I beg ye… I didnae wish tae hurt ye… I-”

Crosscut stepped forward and pulled Whippletree into a hug; he immediately broke into sobs as they held each other close. “I love ye,” she whispered. “I kin ye. ’Tweren’t youn that night. Ye’ve not a thing tae be sorry fer.”

“I’m sorry,” Whippletree whimpered, his wings pumping with anxiety, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-”

“Ye’re alright. That’s what matters.” Crosscut gave Whippletree a quick squeeze and a peck on the cheek. “Wythe’s goin’ tae want tae see ye.”

“Aye.” Still clinging to Crosscut, Whippletree nodded jerkily. “Aye. B-be- I’ll be seein’ ye.” Quick as a flash, he spread his wings and was flying towards Tratonmane, probably making an effort to not scream out Wythe’s name.

Crosscut watched him leave. Turning back to the group, she began, “Thankee fer-” Then her eyes went wide and she pulled back. “Ma? Ye’ve… got green on ye.”

Arrastra waved a hoof dismissively. “Ach, it’s jes’ chlorophyll.”

“…That’s a mess o’ chlorophyll. How…? Why…?”

“This is Lixivia,” Code said, stepping forward. “Arrastra chainsawed her out of a pod in a cave and she’s responsible for Whippletree and Bitterroot turning into timberwolves. Say hi, Lixivia.”

Lixivia made angry gagged-captive noises.

“She says hi.”

Crosscut blinked twice. Her ears drooped. Then her head drooped. “Tell me later,” she said, already sounding exhausted. As she walked back to the lumberjacks, Amanita heard her muttering, “This week… This cusséd week…”

And she hadn’t even said anything about the dead body Amanita was carrying. This cusséd week, indeed.

---

Her wing still wasn’t working, but Bitterroot could propel herself a little faster than most ponies with her good wing. And yet, she still had trouble following Charcoal as she ran back to the Watering Cave, easily outstripping everyone else. But Charcoal didn’t go to the bar; instead, she bolted up the steps to their room. By the time Bitterroot poked her head in, Charcoal was already pulling her new furs tight around her.

“Sorry about your clothes,” Bitterroot said.

“It happens.” Charcoal stretched like a cat and gave her tail a little flick. “No, really, it does. Kirins don’t really have fashion. It’s just not the sort of thing that lasts.”

“Even after therapy?”

“Habit. Thanks for, uh, being understanding about the whole… wolf thing. And the insults and…”

“Hey, I went through it, too, I know what it feels like. I’d be a huge jerk if I wasn’t understanding. And we got you out, so whatever. I can live with it.”

“Thanks.”

The rest of the search party was at the bar, yelling orders to a frazzled Cabin, but Amanita wasn’t there. Bitterroot ducked out of the building to see Amanita, Code, and Arrastra walking up the road. “Hey!” she said, waving at them. “All good?”

“All good,” said Amanita. “We were-”

Lixivia groaned.

“We were just making sure Whippletree was alright,” Amanita said. “But now, I’ve got a body that needs resurrecting.”

“And figure out what to do with this blackguard over lunch,” said Code. She gave a little hop with her rear legs, jostling Lixivia. “I’m sure we’d all love to eat, but someone needs to draw the short straw.”

“I’ll do it,” Bitterroot said immediately. “Bounty hunter. I’m used to watching captives. I just need somewhere to put her.”

“Take her tae my house,” said Arrastra darkly. “I dinnae want her anear while we’re lunchin’.” She shot a glare at Lixivia.

“Alright.” A bit of shuffling got Lixivia off Code’s back and onto Bitterroot’s. “I remember where your house is, so go and have lunch.” She walked away, whistling and with Lixivia squirming.

Some ways into town, she glanced up. It was getting brighter, thanks to more and more of the western wall being illuminated and bouncing light down, but Bitterroot still couldn’t see the sun. “Not even noon, and we’ve already caught you,” she said. “Do you think it’ll be uphill or downhill from here on out?”

Lixivia snarled as best she could.

“Eh, maybe.”

---

“Hey. Sorry I killed you.”

It was a stupid thing to say, Amanita knew, but what else were you supposed to say? Scallion was lying in the resurrection circle before the Watering Cave, staring at the sky and panting. She gawked at Amanita and said nothing.

“You were, uh, going to… die anyway,” Amanita said, wringing her hooves. Why did it sound so much worse when she said it aloud? “And… just… killing you off would save you the pain. So, I mean…” She shrugged. “I can… fix you easily if you’re dead. Not really if you’re alive.”

Scallion gawked at Amanita and said nothing.

“Also, um, Whetstone here-” Amanita nudged Whetstone, standing next to her. “-he, uh, read me the riot act about killing you, so, uh, you’ve got someone looking out for you.”

Scallion gawked at Amanita and said nothing.

“Um, you can, you can go. Arrastra’s buying everyone drinks.”

That seemed to do it. Scallion glanced at the door to the inn and slowly got to her hooves, like she was unsure of her own body. She nodded jerkily to Amanita. “Thankee.”

“I, I mean, it’s kinda my fault to begin with, so, yeah, sorry.”

Scallion stared at Amanita for another moment longer before she slowly went into the Cave.

Amanita turned to Whetstone, who was watching Scallion enter the inn. Once the door closed, it took him another moment or two to face Bitterroot, his ears folded back. “I… I beg yer pardon fer… fer sayin’ those things in the cave,” he said quietly.

She just shrugged. “Pardon given. I killed one of your friends in front of you. You showed incredible restraint. Look, it happened, it’s over, water under the bridge, okay?”

“…Aye. Thankee.”

“You’re welcome. Now, let’s go get drunk.”

---

Bitterroot had dumped Lixivia in the living room and that was where they stayed. Arrastra had been nice enough to bring her a clover sandwich. A clover sandwich. The bread was a bit tough, but holy Tartarus was this good clover. Out here! In the North! Bitterroot hadn’t even known clover grew out here. Maybe it didn’t. Deormont and all. Either way, it was enough to make her forget her headache for a little while.

Lixivia was squirming on the floor, trying to break free of her fetters with no luck. She still had the gag stuffed in her mouth and was trying to growl around it. She glared at Bitterroot and made a sound.

Bitterroot took a bite of her delicious, delicious sandwich and swallowed. “You know, I’m a bounty hunter. I don’t mind sitting here in silence, watching you,” she said. “But if you behave, I’ll take that gag out to let you breathe better.”

“Uh vuh veevuh veevh,” declared Lixivia.

“Are you going to behave?”

Lixivia kept up her glare, but nodded. Bitterroot took another clover bite, then pulled the furs from Lixivia’s mouth. Lixivia immediately grinned and said, “Drew the short straw, did you?”

Bitterroot already saw Lixivia’s goal: turn her against her allies with cold reading and loose insinuations. But any bounty hunter worth a quarter of their salt could see this technique coming a mile away and ignore it. For starters, Lixivia was coming on too hard, too fast. “Volunteered,” Bitterroot said.

Lixivia’s grin faltered enough for Bitterroot to know that’d had an impact. When it came back, it wasn’t as assured. “So, tell me,” she asked, “how did it feel being a timberwolf? I’m just dying for the data on my little experiment.”

Bitterroot’s wings buzzed and she felt her jaw clench- But this was another technique perps tried: anger their captors into making a mistake. After the trauma of last night, part of Bitterroot wanted to pound Lixivia’s face in for what she’d done, but it was a tiny part, easily ignored. Instead, she went for the much more fun route: she grinned and tapped the side of her muzzle. “That’s a secret.”

“A- a secret?” growled Lixivia. “I- That’s my data. I need that. Tell me!”

“Not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Look, I’m friends with somepony who ritualistically slit my throat. Turning me into a timberwolf? Heh. That’s nothing. Try harder.”

“So you think you’re tough? You didn’t do anything back in the valley. I saw. You came in late, you-”

Bitterroot had many, many responses to that. The one she went with was, “Oh, look, you’re misbehaving. And giving me a headache.” And, with a little bit of work, she stuffed the furs back into Lixivia’s mouth.

Ears folded back, Lixivia screamed at her and started twisting again in an attempt to break free of the fetters. She had the exact same result as she’d had earlier.

“You’re not very bright, are you?” Bitterroot said, sitting back down in her chair.

The rage and hate of Lixivia’s yell was somewhat diminished by its near-complete lack of volume.

“Maybe you’re hungry. Being hungry always makes me stupid angry. Maybe we disrupted your breakfast and that’s why you’re out for our blood. Which, if that’s the case, I get it! Really! But, y’know. You didn’t behave.”

Lixivia rolled her eyes and looked away.

---

It was a bit early for lunch and absolutely no one was caring. Not even Cabin. Food was being served rapid-fire in the common room, the atmosphere was warm and jovial, and Cabin wasn’t grunting.

Amanita found herself and the other Canterlotians sitting with Arrastra, who was muttering very colorful thoughts about Lixivia. “-lily-livered woods filly, preyin' on us,” she growled. “I’m goin’ tae shoot her with one o’ our ballistae.”

Amanita nearly choked in her haste to swallow. “A- A ballista? Isn’t a bolt that big overkill?”

“Probably,” said Code. “But there’s nothing quite like it for spite.”

Amanita had to admit it was healthier than her old methods of coping.

She briefly glanced around the room and couldn’t help but wonder: exactly how far had they sidestepped? Whippletree had been taken, and the search for him had chewed up nearly two and a half days. Not to mention the day technically wasted above Midwich after Pyrita. This was their… sixth day in Tratonmane, and half of it had been frittered away on stuff that was only loosely related to the ley line at best. Unless Lixivia had something to do with it. Out in Midwich Forest, working with plants? It wasn’t totally impossible, even if Amanita didn’t find it very plausible. And then, there were questions left behind.

As if reading her mind, Code set her cup down. “You know. Lixivia explains absolutely nothing about the ley line or Pyrita. Technically speaking, she’s utterly unconnected to them.”

“As far as we know,” Amanita said.

“Correct. But I trust I’m not alone when I say that them not being linked is… unsatisfying.”

“Maybe she’s been using the ley line for magic and that caused it to turn,” Charcoal said in a thinking-out-loud voice. “But she hid its magic from the outside until it got too much for her- No, wait, we’d’ve seen problems before then, never mind.”

“Nevertheless, the possibility remains.” Code breathed deeply. “So I plan on interrogating her. If any of you wish to watch, you’re welcome to.”

Arrastra snorted. “Oh, I’ll watch,” she mumbled.

“You will not rough her up,” Code said in a way that made it a statement of fact.

“…Aye.”

Amanita nudged her food around on its plate. How long had she been running around Midwich Valley? She hadn’t even gotten a full night’s sleep last night. Right now, having a nap sounded like… not the best thing in the world, but quite satisfying. But she was here to help ponies, and that meant knowing everything she could, and that meant sitting in on the interrogation of that mare. That loud, whiny, entitled mare. Gah.

How low were the chances that it’d mean anything to her? Pretty low. Anything related to transfiguration made her mind blank at best (freeing Bitterroot was a lucky break, she told herself). She wasn’t even the right type of necromancer to satisfy Lixivia. But she’d come this far. She needed to see it through to the end.

“I’ll be there,” she said.

“Yeah, I think I’ll sit this one out,” Charcoal said. “My day’s been kind of weird between the cult thing and the transformation and I really just want to get back to the ley line.”

Lucky dog.

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

Amanita’s self-esteem at the end is weirdly adorable. Oh no, not the right type of necromancer to satisfy Lixivia, if only she were more of an uncaring monster. Bring Scallion in to the interrogation and see what she thinks of that.

In any case, hopefully with secrets revealed and dark plots foiled, the actual business of fixing the ley line will be fairly straightforward. It probably won’t be, but I can hope.

[redmar]

Lixivia is indeed not very bright since she seems to unable to realize that she's at the mercy of her captors who have no reason to be nice to her and certainly won't let her go free. Also contrary to what Amanita may think her freeing Bitterroot wan't luck but quick thinking in a stressfull situation. Code probably knows several methods of getting Lixivia to talk.

[Raugos]

34 - Raid Cooldown

Cheeky. It's gonna be a while before Charcoal can use her ulti again.

“Bitterroot? I’m cold. Get me peeved again.”

Charcoal is the best!

This is a much-deserved break for everyone. But as Code pointed out, it feels like they haven't gotten much closer to solving the mystery. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if there were four or five cults operating simultaneously in Tratonmane.

Lucky dog.

Very cheeky.

[Wanderling]

Hmm... So....

Varnish knows about Lixivia, doesn't he? I don't see why else he'd disrupt the first exploration, so that'll be interesting for our protagonists to discover. It certainly wasn't on behalf of the Deormont.

[FridayPie]

Muddy somehow is familiar with what necromancers can do. It's sus.