The light swayed as young lantern-bearer flicked his eyes from Tidal to Chameleon and back again. The greenish unicorn's pace was uneven, slowed by the thick band of iron circling his hoof and a decade's worth of cramped tendons. But he was limping in a halo of light, and it felt wonderful.
Tidal was feeling far from wonderful, judging from the way he sniffed and snorted and tried to hold his breath, trotting ahead a few steps at a time, then waiting for the others to catch up. Once the blue pony started to tap a hoof impatiently, but he stopped with a wince when something squelched under his feet.
For his part, Chameleon made no effort to hurry. So much the better if Tidal and his ilk learned what lay under the castle. The green unicorn glanced left and right at the sharp relief of bars overlaying the silhouetted figures who sat with heads hanging. None of them screamed profanities or cursed as they would have in the Unicorn Block; none of them moved an inch. They said you could break a pegasus' spirit if you broke her wings . . .
"Keep moving," Verge growled; Chameleon didn't have to turn around to know that her eyes were boring a hole in his neck. He obeyed, picking up his pace as best he could. He was not out of the dungeon yet, after all.
His breath quickened at the blaze of light down the passageway. On the other side of a massive iron gate, the corridor widened into a room with sconced torches set on the walls every few feet, a blaze of light that made the racked spears and lances gleam. A rough circle of straw-filled burlap sacks dominated the center of the room, where armored unicorns and earthlings lounged, eating and drinking over bouts of loud laughter, tossing dice. A passageway on the other side of the room twisted abruptly out of sight. There would be several other sharp turns before a second iron gate barred the way, Chameleon knew. Unicorns would not wink to a location they could not see . . .
Verge rattled the gate with a hoof and a yellow pony with silver armor curling up her horn approached, casting a regretful look back at the gambling circle.
"You found him one, then?" she asked Verge. Without waiting for a reply, her lavender gaze shifted to Chameleon. "Interesting choice."
"He'll do," Tidal said, obviously annoyed at being ignored.
"He wanted a sane one, Red. It complicated things."
"Hmm." The yellow unicorn aimed another look at the green pony before she began cranking the windlass that controlled the gate. The chains in the walls rattled as they drew taut, wrapping around the cinch; then the gate slowly rose, following the grooves in the walls that drew it parallel with the ceiling as it angled upwards.
Tidal marched into the room first, obviously relieved at the chance to wipe his hooves off on the relatively clean straw littering the floor. Chameleon followed quietly, eyes fixed on the second passageway leading out of the room. He waited for Verge to take the lead, though. Chameleon was nothing if not patient.
Verge strode straight through the room, her barding clinking. Tidal followed hesitantly, stepping wide of the armored mares lounging around the room. Still, their eyes rested on Tidal more often than on Chameleon. A few of the unicorn guards sneered openly at him as he chose his steps. Behind him, Chameleon took note of the undercurrents. He had been gone too long to know what they meant, but he would. Oh yes, he would.
As he had half-guessed, half-remembered, the passageway leading out of the room snaked wildly before it settled into a smallish space, not quite a room, in front of a second heavy gate. On the other side of it two unicorn, purple and pink, stood guard. The purple one began winching the gate open as the other one silently watched the small party of ponies on the other side.
"At last," Tidal muttered, ducking under the gate as soon as there was room. Chameleon made himself wait until there was room to walk under without bending his head, but it wasn't easy. His eyes drifted up the hallway as Verge exchanged a few words with the other guards.
"Chameleon," she said, jerking her head towards the green unicorn.
"You'll have to cross him out of the records when you get a chance," the pink unicorn said, "assuming he's out for good."
Chameleon's eyes were hard as emeralds. "I won't return."
Tidal put on a fake smile clearly meant to soothe a potential danger, but the guards just looked at Chameleon, amused.
"We'll see," the pink mare said, and purple one laughed.
"We'll see," Verge repeated, moving up the hallway. "Follow me."
Chameleon limped after her, up the incline. The air was fresher the farther up they got, sweeter. He could taste the promise of sunlight. Impossible; he had always been a pramagtic pony. But he could taste it.
"At last," Tidal sighed as they reached the foot of a steep but wide stairway. Verge simply started up the steps, assuming the other two would follow. Chameleon didn't hesitate. For years his movement had been restricted to a turn or two around his cramped cell and now his legs wanted to yield. He wouldn't let them. He was close, so close. If he just took one stair after another, one after another . . .
With a start, he realized that he was at the top. At the end of the landing was an open archway blazing with sunlight. He stepped into it, savoring it, but aware of the darkness looming at his back.
He bared his teeth in a smile and his eyes glittered. "Oh no, I won't be returning . . ."