by G. M. Berrow
“Mojo needs a ‘captive audience.’ The pets of Marapore are about to disappear,” Tater Tot replied, eyes growing wide. He paused and looked around. None of the other students were paying any mind. “Oh, and I know that your name isn’t Miss Ravenhoof.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “It’s Daring Do, huh?”
“Heeeeeelp!” a shrill voice rang out. It was coming from outside in the square. The pitter-patter of hundreds of hoofbeats rumbled as the villagers ran from their homes and workplaces to see what new travesty had befallen their beloved Marapore.
“Heeeeelp!” called the lean young mare again. Tears were streaming down her white face. She let out a sob. An older mare, presumably her mother, rubbed the pony’s back and cooed, “What is it, Yollotl?”
“He… he… he’s goooone! My little Bruno is gone! He was just a puppy.…” She heaved again, sobbing. Kaaxtik passed her a sky-blue hoofkerchief. Yollotl blew her muzzle, and the unpleasant sound that followed was like that of a large goose.
“I haven’t seen any of my kitties all day.…” said a colt, about to erupt into a puddle of despair.
“Where is Fluffy BUUUUN?!” the tan pigtailed filly cried, running off with her unfinished drawing of the dear bunny still in her hoof.
A stallion in a red cloak stepped up to join them and added, “My goose is nowhere to be seen!”
Yollotl blew her muzzle again.
“Denise, is that you?!” The stallion looked around in confusion.
“Sorry, just me,” Yollotl said sadly.
Kaaxtik hung his head for a moment and looked up to the villagers. “It is just as we feared, perhaps much worse. Everypony go to your homes and take the necessary precautions.” The ponies stared back with blank faces. “Quickly!” Panic set in, and everypony scrambled, running for their dwellings.
Daring Do and Tater Tot exchanged a look as the commotion swirled around them. If the rest of the predictions were going to come true, tonight was the night. They both knew it.
“Come on, kid. We’ve got work to do.” Daring passed him the crumpled piece of paper with the circles on it. The one she’d found at the barn-and-breakfast. “Any notions as to what this means?”
Tater Tot snatched the paper, and his eyes lit up with delight. “Well, I don’t know what it says, but I know where it came from.”
A few minutes later, they’d located the book. The ripped corner fit perfectly onto page thirty-three of Prophesies of the Southern Region: Tricorner Villages, just like a puzzle piece. Without the extra bit, the page was totally undecipherable, but together, it made complete sense.
Daring gasped as the realization hit her.
The illustration on the page showed a pony knocking his hoof on the mouth of a cave. In the next panel, a door appeared. The circles were some kind of password written in Horse code! The way it worked was simple. A pony had to do a series of hoof knocks varying in length, one after another, to be admitted through the hidden door. Now all she needed was to find that door.
A smile crept over Daring’s face. The only thing between her and her goal now was a single pony named Mojo. And she would bet every bit she owned that she knew where he would turn up tonight. All Daring had to do was wait for him to get there.
CHAPTER 9
Half Past Stars Marks the Hour
The Marapore village square was cloaked in night, the buildings a canvas of alternating shadows and shades of blue. The air was beginning to cool. And a yellow Pegasus with a gray-and-black mane sat waiting patiently. She had never been more ready.
Daring stared down at her hooves and practiced the pattern of Horse code from the paper. Once she’d perfected that, she looked up at the stars and passed the time by listening to the symphonic scratch of crickets. If it weren’t for the fact that the cottage windows had all been hastily boarded up with firewood, the soft snores of the ponies in their beds would have added some percussion to the score. Daring shifted her body weight to make more room for her wings. She had chosen to wait in the school doorway because it had the perfect view of the village square.
Daring recited the rhyme in her head again. Half past stars marks the hour, masked by darkness of the night. “Half past stars,” Daring mumbled to herself, considering that maybe she’d missed something in the message. “Easy. Has to be a half hour past sundown.” The “darkness of the night” thing was obvious, too. Foal once noble now turned sour. More open to interpretation than the others, but if that kid knew what he was talking about, the phrase did imply the possibility of a local hero gone bad being the culprit. And the only pony who fit that bill was Mojo, also known as the Stalwart Stallion of Neighples. The reason why he’d turned sour was an entirely separate issue.
Daring Do still couldn’t believe how much Tater Tot had known about the prophecy, the Flankara Relics, and their infinite powers. His insatiable thirst for knowledge reminded Daring a little bit of herself at that age: curious to the point of recklessness. Anything for an adventure. It was endearing, really. But following a hero turned evil thief in the middle of the night was not something that little tyke should be doing.
Tater Tot had begged to come along, but she told him to scram. Too many younger ponies thought they had the chops to do what Daring did on a daily basis, and too many got caught in the cross fire. They always needed rescuing in the end. It was exactly why she preferred to work alone.
Daring exhaled deeply. Of all the parts of her job, stakeouts were the worst. If nopony showed up soon, she was just going to have to go out and take some action herself. Finding the cave door and kicking some stallion flank both seemed like appealing options. She crept out from her hiding place, keeping her knees bent low to the ground in her signature crawl. The village square wasn’t wide, so with only a few paces she was in front of the statue.
In the moonlight, the stone sculpture took on a new life. During the day, it had looked proud and valiant. Now it seemed ominous. The eyes of the stallion were wet with night dew, creepily glistening like real eyes. One could have mistaken them for actual salty tears. Daring reached her hoof up to touch the moisture, just to be sure. It was never a good sign when things made of stone cried. Daring knew that one from experience.
The sight of rain running down the eyes of the statue on the Hidden Tomb of the Cipactli Queen was forever burned into her memory. She imagined it was tears dripping into the crevices and the sounds of screams that had given away the band of Caballeron’s henchponies watching from the shadows.
“What happened to you, Mojo?” Daring circled the statue. The front right hoof was frozen in a permanent raised position. Secured firmly inside the statue’s grip was the mighty Arrow of Marapore. The arrow itself was made of complex, interlocking pieces of gold and silver. The relic sparkled, almost as if it were glowing from within. Daring could feel the excitement rising in her. The powers of this object were vast. A tiny part of her wanted to snatch the object for herself and fly off into the night. It was like a beautiful siren calling out to her, trying to lead her astray.
If it looked this incredible now, what had the brilliant artifact looked like before its brothers had been taken from Lusitano and Ponypeii? The three were tied to one another by some powerful, ancient spell. And the villagers had attested to the fact that the arrow had dimmed, much like their spirits, ever since Mojo had paid the other towns a visit. But why, out of the three, had the arrow remained untouched until now? There were so many questions to be answered and only one way to find out. Daring was going to watch over this monument until something happened.
The thud of hooves on the dirt path broke the silence. Daring darted back to her hiding spot, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She covered her mouth with her cloak to muffle her breathing. Everything was unfolding just as she’d hoped.
A huge stallion entered the square, his form dark and menacing against the star-filled sky. The shaggy base of each of his hooves was as big as all four of Daring Do’s put together, and with each stomp, the ground rattled beneath him.
As he drew closer, details of his countenance came into sharp focus. Daring craned to see his cutie mark, but he kept moving back and forth—presumably to check for spies such as herself—just before she could get a glimpse of it. His hide was a shiny silver hue, and the hair of his tail was deepest black, except at the root. There, it was a putrid, glowing green.
“The Stalwart Stallion of Neighples! What a joke I must be now,” the stallion bellowed as he arrived at the foot of the statue. “I never deserved a monument. It’s so much more fitting that I am the great and powerful Mojo now—a pony who sees what he wants and takes it for himself!” The greedy monster looked up and unleashed a hearty cackle. “May this statue be a good warning to those who ever think of crossing me again!”
Another of Tater Tot’s predictions had come true. The thief was none other than the venerated hero of the Tricorner Villages—the Stalwart Stallion of Neighples! The one who’d brought the Flankara Relics to the region in the first place, to protect its ponies from the lava of Mount Vehoovius. But what had made him turn evil? All this pony used to care about was protecting the villages, and now he was the one tearing them apart. It just didn’t add up. Daring immediately thought of the inscription in the book, which predicted a “foal once noble now turned sour.” Sour was an understatement. But something must have happened to scar his soul so deeply.
Then the Unicorn turned so his flank was visible, and Daring cringed, finally understanding what he was after.
His cutie mark had been mutilated. A slash down the middle had left it brutally deformed. It was difficult to tell what the symbol had been before, but it looked like it was green. The flesh in the middle was a raw, shiny red. Daring was appalled. Who would do such a thing, and how? A cutie mark was a pony’s essence, a physical embodiment of their spirit. It must have been some very dark magic.
She felt an ounce of compassion for the stallion, but promptly brushed it aside. It didn’t matter what he had been through; there was no way he was taking everypony down with him. The Tricorner Villages needed the Flankara Relics more than he did.
A low, booming noise resounded. It seemed like it was coming from the direction of the jungle. At first, Daring believed it to be an army barreling toward them, but the smell of sulfur and the smoke rising in the distance told her otherwise. Mount Vehoovius was going to erupt tonight!
Mojo pulled back the hood of his cloak to reveal a wild mane and yellow eyes that seemed to burn with a hunger for vengeance. He stared up at his prize with longing, but hesitated. He was savoring the moment. “I’m taking back what is rightfully mine, and nopony can stop me.”
The Flankara Relics, the villages of Marapore, Lusitano, and Ponypeii, and all the ponies living there were about to become ancient history. Or they would have if Daring Do hadn’t been lurking in the shadows.…
CHAPTER 10
The Magnificent Arrow of Marapore
Daring Do stalked behind the stallion. Thanks to the newly camouflaged cloak she’d bought that afternoon in the market, she was even more stealthy than usual. But there wasn’t much time to come up with a strategy. If she jumped out and made herself known, she could certainly distract Mojo from stealing the arrow, but the consequences could be worse. He had powerful magic, magic that he would not hesitate to use on her. And she needed to stay alive if she was going to save all these other ponies. She drew closer, playing with fire, but the deranged Unicorn was far too focused on his task to see anything other than the precious object of his affection. Daring decided to follow him back to his lair.
Mojo’s horn sparkled with magical light as he closed his eyes, mumbling an incantation. The shimmering arrow jostled in its spot, but it took several tries to free it. Sparks flew from the tip of his horn as if it were misfiring. He growled in anger, trying again to concentrate and aim it toward the statue. Had something happened to his magic? Daring had read studies of the link between Unicorns and their cutie marks and wondered if Mojo might be a prime example of the phenomenon.
Even so, the irony was not lost on Daring Do that Mojo was probably the one who’d placed the arrow there in the first place and, in doing so, made it extremely difficult for anypony to take it.
The arrow floated up in the air. It twirled, surrounded by black smoke. Mojo smiled. “Daring Doooo!” he singsonged. “I can see youuuu!”
“That’s convenient, Mojo.” Daring Do took a defensive stance, legs wide on the ground and head down. She was ready to attack. “Then you can watch as I take that arrow back off your hooves!” Daring sprang forward in a great leap, letting her wings assist her. She landed on the back of the statue and took off once more, this time aiming for the Unicorn’s back. If she was behind him, he couldn’t even attempt to aim his magic at her.
But Mojo darted out of the way just in time, galloping behind the schoolhouse. Daring did not falter. She flew over the one-story structure and hovered above him. “Just because something was once yours does not make it so forever, Mojo!” Daring called down.
“It doesn’t?” Mojo laughed. “Well, thanks for that inspiring lesson, Professor. I think I have learned quite a lot here today.” The stallion lunged forward and grabbed on to something in the shadows. The darkened mass wriggled and squirmed, but Daring knew what it was from the unmistakable red baseball cap.
“Tater Tot!” Daring cried out, feeling more than she thought she would. Reckless kid. Tater Tot had been watching from across the street. Of course he hadn’t heeded the adventurer’s warnings to stay out of the way.
“Do I have something of yours that you want back?” Mojo dragged the poor colt into the light. The little guy kicked and struggled against the great Unicorn’s strength, but it was just too much for him. Mojo held a hoof over the kid’s mouth. “Well, why don’t you come and get it?!” Mount Vehoovius thundered again, and a billow of black smoke engulfed the Unicorn and the colt. When it cleared, they were gone.
CHAPTER 11
The Hollowed Hideout
Mojo galloped with gaining speed through the thick brush of the jungle. Tater Tot was on his back, and the Arrow of Marapore was tucked safely in a brown leather quiver looped across his broad chest. They were drawing closer to the edge of the mountain with every step.
“I’m n-n-not a-a-afraid of you!” squeaked Tater Tot, though he was shaking like a Maraporean leaf bug. “In fact, I’m h-h-having fun!”
“Excellent!” yelled Mojo, barely audible over the sound of his own hooves beating on the ground. “I always do enjoy a willing victim!”
A few miles away, Daring soared low through the canopy of palms. She was afraid that if she went any higher into the atmosphere, she’d miss her target due to the dense plant cover below. It was possible that Mojo had transported Tater Tot directly into the volcanic lair with his magic black smoke, but Daring’s instincts told her that he wouldn’t have made it that easy. The Unicorn wanted to be caught—he was playing with her.
“If a game is what you want, Mojo, then you’ll get it!” Daring bellowed into the shadowy jungle, legs outstretched, the wind rushing past her face and through her gray-and-black mane as she wove between the trees. “And that’s not all!” She swooped down a familiar row of palms, snatched her pith helmet, and slapped it on her head without slowing down.
Up ahead, Daring spotted a dense patch of hanging vines right on her course. She didn’t miss a beat, reaching out to use them to swing through the jungle in a calculated rhythm. Swing, then catch. Wings, then hoof. Swing, then catch. Wings, then hoof. On the last one, she cast her body through the air in an effortless arc, finishing the acrobatic performance by landing on all four hooves. When she stood up, she was directly in front of a cave at the foot of the mountain. The stench of sulfur and volcanic ash wafted through the air. “I win this round, Mojo.”
She entered the cave and saw a doorway on the far wall. It appeared exactly as it had in the drawing—as part of the wall, following every curve and imperfection of the natural stone formations. There was a thin layer of moss
, but the outline of the entrance was almost invisible to the naked eye. Daring knew where to look. She had the torn piece of the book page in her cloak pocket, but she didn’t need it. She lifted her right hoof and repeated the Horse code sequence from memory. Tap-tap-tap. Taaaap. Tap-tap. Taaaaaap-Tap-Tap. The entire cave began to shake, and tiny shards of volcanic rock rained down from the ceiling. Daring covered her head and looked to the door. She tried to push on it, but nothing was working. It was stuck after opening only a few inches.
There was only one thing to do. Daring ran to the other side of the cave. She tried to put as much space as possible between herself and the door, but unfortunately it was a tight space. She lunged back on her hind legs and took off as fast as her hooves would go across the length of the hollow. Thud! Her body slammed against the door. It rumbled slightly and then stopped. Daring sighed. That was supposed to have done the trick.
“Oooo! Ooo! Ahhhh! Eeee-yeee!” Daring Do whipped around and found herself face-to-face with none other than a blood-eyed howler monkey! She’d never seen one in real life before.
“Really?” Daring Do replied in annoyance. Though she was fascinated by its shimmering long fur and curled tail, now was not the time for an animal observation mission.
The monkey bared its sharp teeth and whooped again. “Eeee-yeeeee! Ahh! Ahh!” Twenty more monkeys, all swinging and screeching in fury, skulked out of the shadows. Apparently the Pegasus had accidentally disturbed someone else’s lair.
“All right, fur balls. Come at me!” Daring Do took a step forward, prepared to fight off each one if she had to. But rather than fighting off the small army of angry monkeys, she suddenly found herself falling, darkness enveloping her.
A few seconds later, she landed hard on some slippery red mud. Daring careened down a narrow underground tunnel. She was heading deep into the belly of the volcano. Daring pulled her limbs in close, knowing that she could go even faster if she was streamlined. Time was running out—if she didn’t save Tater Tot soon, he’d be nothing more than a crispy colt. She just hoped this tunnel didn’t spit her into a pool of lava, or she’d have the same problem.