The Doctor set his ally with determination. Forelock studied the shadow veiled moon compulsively, memorizing its every feature. He spoke without regarding the Doctor. “I’ve a sudden need to talk to Vallade.”
“Was it before the genetic manipulation of Blackpool, or after? What time we thought we had is gone.”
Forelock straightened, stock still. “And what time did you think we had?”
Without ado of any kind, they trotted back through the corridor into the basement which was Vallade’s base of operations. Ditzy and Brazen awaited them. Blackpool was gone.
“What’s become of Blackpool?” Forelock asked, leading the group upstairs.
“They’ve taken him to Dr. Stickerbrush,” Brazen supplied. “Where are we going?”
“Take us to where Vallade’s being kept,” the Doctor ordered. Ditzy blinked in amazement. Such strong personalities, but they were like two sides of the same coin. Was it possible they could get along so easily?
In the time she had to ponder this, they traversed a passage underneath the main concourse into a rock hewn visitor’s quarters. By ancient standards the room was comfortable, warm, clean and spacious. Vallade lay dozing on a padded feather bed, no worse than he proclaimed.
“Cold water! A colt – a colt! What I am now! Wants a cold draught! Too much, is it?” he wailed, voice clear and strong for his apparent starvation. “I’ll have my drink, I shall, and …”
Brazen halted, having taken the lead, but Vallade’s white eyes sheared right through him. Though he could not see who followed in the darkness, he grinned out of a venomous sense of satisfaction. The group spread out as they reached the bottom of the path to the steel barred guest room door.
“They can’t stand me. I yell at the top of this shrill voice just to entertain myself,” Vallade rumbled amiably. “What entertainment you ponies provide … is positively without end.”
“They don’t know you,” the Doctor. “I’ve told them of you, but you’ve changed.”
“Of course I’ve changed you dolt. I’m a pony! So are you. What causality did we offend? Which of the fine wonders did we cross?”
“I don’t have an answer for that. Though it is one of the few commonalities between us. Vallade, that isn’t why I’m here,” the Doctor took a firm grip on his patience. “We met Blackpool.”
“Ah, the Bumbler. How is he? Dead?”
“Jerk …” Ditzy whispered.
“Oh no, pretty mare. He pursued me. I granted his wish! I am the miracle bringer.”
“He’s not dead!” Ditzy snapped, rapidly wresting control of her temper. “We’ll help him. Whatever you did we’ll protect him.”
“The Valiant,” Vallade drawled. “Her appeal ever increases.”
“Enough, Jesper. Tell me why you laid claim to Luna’s crown,” the Doctor spoke with grave authority, such as Ditzy had never heard even in Celestia’s voice.
“Foals. I won’t die now. I’ve won the day. You’re even feeding me. Would you tip your hand?”
“Don’t … presume it is your choice when we see your every card,” Forelock asserted. “You’ve made no stake on the title, that is clear. A flashy bow on the tail to conceal a poison tipped knife at the haunch. It was quite dramatic.”
Vallade’s eyes momentarily locked with Forelock’s. “Was it?”
“Celestia took notice of a fly. Somehow, in a way I don’t understand, you have set about the task of taking the moon for your own.”
“Curiosities abound in the company of a Time Pony,” Vallade commented glibly.
“Of course! Your ship is in orbit, isn’t it? You’d launched it well in advance of our arrival. One step ahead of us, very clever. Won’t take long to locate it now.”
“We are all foals, the oldest, the youngest. So impassioned by wit brooding that we overlook shallow pools at our hooves.” Vallade’s expression at once mild clenched with malice. Brazen, suffused by the intensity of his eyes, remembered something with a cold vapor in his soul.
“Princess Luna!”
“What?” declared the Doctor, whirling toward him. “What about her?”
“I can’t communicate with her. Oh, it’s a thing we do …” Brazen related sheepishly.
“You mean a two-way sympathetic telepathic link? Camon, we’d best hurry on if we’re to discover why.”
“Doctor! You won’t ask Vallade?” Ditzy demanded.
“No. We’ve no time, De … Ditzy. None at all. Haste is our only recourse now.”
Emergency training and planning was an integral part of all guard operations, and thus when Celestia put out the order, she had only to add the code of silence to ensure calm during the Galloping Gala. Luna was not expected to make an appearance during the event, and never had. The only event of interest to her, Nightmare Night, had passed with the successful while unplanned influence of Twilight Sparkle and friends.
Thankfully when the order was put into effect, it was still daylight. Nopony would notice that the moon was fading away. Celestia’s previous stewardship of the moon made manifest the change in her consciousness. This naturally led to checking on the welfare of her sister. She was not doing well.
“Dr. Stickerbrush? Who summoned you?” Celestia requested of the grey-maned, silver coated unicorn.
Carstone Stickerbrush’s lips thinned against his teeth, a moment of empathy belaying his veneer of clinical calm. The light but cool cotton white coat he wore rustled softly as moved away from Luna’s bed to stand before her.
“I’ve a special case, just settled this afternoon. Now your sister pales and looks as though to fade away. No magic I understand can explain it. Perhaps your healing horn can lend some aid. Her condition is stable, for the present time.”
And what is ‘stable’? Celestia was not wont to waste words, pushing through the large double doors of her sister’s bedchambers where she lay a ghostly shadow on violet silk sheets. Carstone followed behind, habit lightening his hooffalls so as not to be intrusive. To Celestia’s dismay, her shadow passed through Luna’s mostly transparent body.
Celestia lowered her glowing horn and concentrated, staving off all unwanted mental distractions. At first she felt very little of her sister’s sombre warmth. Remembering the words of her father, that the desire of ones heart shaped the reality of ones magic, caused her to draw on that presence and encourage it to be strong:
You are no longer alone, my sister. Wake your heart, raise your head. You are needed to illuminate the night.
Tia? Issued a faint psychic voice, a faint utterance of Luna’s consciousness. Immediate tears sprang as a surge of energy began to feed back, and Celestia opened her eyes. Luna’s dark eyes locked on Celestia, who smiled. “Tia …”
Celestia suppressed the wild jolt of shock that coursed through her being. Normally vibrant and defiant, her voice was a mere echo, a projected shadow of her hollow being.
“I am here, Luna.” Doctor, where are you?
“Not too late …” stated a voice as if in answer to her request. The Doctor and Forelock Holmes trotted directly to Luna’s bedside, all manner be hanged. “Oh dear. Stupid Doctor. Why couldn’t I have seen this? Oh … stupid Doctor!”
Princess Celestia was beside herself, but inwardly relieved as well. Restraining her frustration required much effort, and what would have shaken Luna’s bed merely rattled her clenched teeth as her hoof fell. The Doctor seemed keen to her restraint.
“If you have some knowledge of the cause of my sister’s condition, tell me. Or better yet, have it done away with! We have precious little time, Doctor,” Celestia stated out of increasing anxiety.
“Oh I know the cause. The mystery’s nearly ended, Princess. Time is not a worry for a Time Lord. It’s rather my territory, and I will be so bold.” Boldly rambling, he thought, but such was his manner in a crisis.
“Then I will ask you to be exact, Doctor. My sister is fading away before my very eyes. No power I possess can save her. Do you know how I must feel?”
“No, I cannot
know your heart. But I do know loss.” Sympathy entered the Doctor’s steely calm. “Stars are the light of celestial bodies, many long passed, scattered into particles across the cosmos. Hers is not so far from us. Not yet. Not yet!”
For a moment she was quiet, deciding how to respond to this. Then: “We are agreed?”
“Yes, we are,” the Doctor replied, curt as directed. “Jesper Vallade, the pony I described to you earlier, has a ship, his transport, parked in orbit, observing the moon. His letter to Luna was a threat against the moon, not the body or crown of the Princess. He means to take it. You see, he is a planet eater. Planet eater … Blimey. I suppose that phrase will have to do. How vile.”
“A what?” Celestia whinnied, aghast.
“There is not time for me to explain, but he converts the matter of planets into energy he can use for his own purposes.”
“So that explains the view of the moon during daylight,” Forelock seemed likewise emboldened by his observations. “He’s planned more than that. He means to consume our planet.”
The Doctor nodded emphatically. “He can’t challenge both Princesses, or the Elements of Harmony.”
“The Elements of Harmony were never intended to protect the moon. Only Twilight Sparkle and her friends could make that possible, if indeed it was,” Celestia replied. “Without them you are suggesting that I cannot protect us from his designs?”
“No. How would you do it? He is detained, Highness. Clearly this ship of his is the problem.”
“His ship … Yes, that is the problem, isn’t it? We’ve no means of reaching it. Though how he launched it without anyone noticing is a wonder. Of all the times not to have access to the TARDIS. How might I locate it?”
“Locate what, Doctor?” Ditzy seemed to ask the obvious question. “The TARDIS?”
“Nonsense. We left her in the garden,” he replied.
“Oh, right.”
“I’m going to need access to Vallade’s ship.” Celestia, as with Carstone, Luna and Forelock, made little sense of his rant. The Doctor had a thought and boldly possessed Celestia’s gaze. “You are the ruler of the day. You have an awareness of the sun’s progression through the sky, and I’m to understand it is yours to command. Can you also see other celestial bodies?”
“If I look in a mirror I can see mine,” she chuckled. “Ah, but I do understand what you ask. So long as the sun hangs in the sky everything that flies is within my view. You will tell me what I am seeking.”
“Yes, yes.” The Doctor had already pondered this question. “It is a queer machine, very like the TARDIS, but I regret that we cannot know its shape or appearance. I can only hope it is not hidden with technology. If Vallade had time, that is—”
“Doctor!” she snapped. “A machine? Of what sort?”
“Princess …”
Forelock stepped forward, catching the Doctor’s eye. “It is not unlike a clock tower, Princess Celestia. To you it would feel like a star, with much power radiating from it,” Forelock supplied rapidly.
“Yes!” The Doctor agreed energetically. “That’s the very thing. Please, try!”
“You’ve no need to ask, Doctor,” she bit back. Again she lowered her head and concentrated, exploring in her mind the sky with which she was so familiar. A yellow aura coalesced around her horn. Quickly she passed into her sister’s territory, the portion of the planet veiled by the cloak of night, and as though swimming through water she began to take stock of one strange object.
This object had the shape of a three pronged star, and it hung at an odd angle. How can it be floating in such a fashion? “Doctor, I’ve found something. A three pointed object just outside of my grasp.”
“Your grasp?”
Celestia’s mane rippled sharply, eyes flashing with an amber hue. “I would tear it down out of the sky, Doctor! I will not suffer this trespass upon my sister!”
“This is no time to question the powers of our ruler supreme, Doctor,” Forelock intoned at him. “We’ve no real notion of her capacity.”
“It is her right,” the Time Lord conceded. “Will you give us time, Princess?”
“You have time now!” she thundered.
“Right! Ditzy, we must get to the TARDIS immediately. Princess, where is Summer Shire?”
“I am going to face Vallade.”
“That’s not … that could be a problem, your Highness.” Ditzy felt the tension between them, and knew the Doctor did not want to endanger her. “If you abandon the Gala Vallade will obtain the chaos he seeks to usurp your power and this entire planet. Luna is stable but extremely fragile. Should she turn for the worse only you can assist her. I know Vallade. I won’t let him win. My life is yours.”
Celestia stared at him. Does he truly feel such a thrill from reckless chivalry? No, he is not so easily understood. His expression, his aura, did not portray a single emotion. Memories dawned, past sacrifices recalled, and her trust resurfaced. Like her, he was a being of eternal depths.
“This is admirable bravery, Doctor, but know they are mere words.”
The Doctor bowed his head but did not break eye contact with her, his wordless contract. “They will have to suffice. When our time comes, we cannot argue. A pebble has no say against an avalanche.”
“Nor the flower in the dark. How wise a thing to say. Doctor, I ask you one thing.”
The Doctor tilted his head inquisitively.
“Be swift.”
“As you wish.”
Who’ll Be Best Pony?
Doctor Whooves: A Thief at the Gala Page 6