It took a minute for Chameleon's eyes to adjust to the light, and when they had he found
Tidal tapping a hoof impatiently while Verge surveyed him with an expression that flickered
between caution and boredom.
"Come on, come on," Tidal said, turning down the hall. "We've wasted enough time here . . . and Rainbow knows we don't have much to spare."
Chameleon followed him, sorely pressed to match the blue unicorn's pace, but not quite caring. Sunlight spattered through the small, high half-circles cut into the walls, sunlight and birdsong. Glass was too expensive to use in a hall devoted to something so humble as the dungeon entrance, of course, but the small arches provided all the light necessary.
There was something else in the air, too . . . the familiar caress of magic. The soul of the unicorn, some called it. It was all Chameleon could do not to pull in the power and wink. But Verge still watched . . . and even before his imprisonment, Chameleon had been schooled in patience.
"Here." Tidal stopped in front of a relatively ornate door and tapped at it with a hoof. "Come in," someone called from inside. The door swung open gently as Tidal nudged it open. Chameleon followed the blue unicorn in, with Verge marching behind him.
The room was large and obviously occupied by several unicorns, though only one was present (aside from the newly arrived Tidal and Chameleon himself.) It would certainly take more than one pony to generate the level of disorder that could make such a spacious, airy room seem cluttered and downright claustrophobic. (Chameleon stirred uneasily.)
And only unicorns would concern themselves with the kind of objects crowding the room--crumbling parchments, a variety of amulets, wooden carvings of everything from dragons to seagulls, great lines of feathers tied together and draped around the windows, glass vials half-filled with bizarrely colored liquids (some of which were steaming), dried herbs hanging in prickly bunches from the ceiling, and of course the requisite candles and various animal skulls. (The candles made some sort of sense, though Chameleon wasn't sure why they were inevitably half-melted and oozing with wax, but he had never understood the fascination others of his breed had with skeletons in general and skulls in particular. Perhaps it was due to the unusual formation unicorns had on their own heads.)
In the midst of the confusion, a single unicorn was trying to rearrange the contents of one table into a semblance of order, apparently unperturbed by the futility of his task. His coat was soft orange with darker orange highlights appearing as he moved in the sunlight, offset by light blue hair. He looked up. "You're back."
"I'm back," Tidal confirmed.
The orange unicorn picked some wayward papers off the floor and arranged them in a neat stack on the table. "I thank you for your assistance, Verge," he said, dipping his head toward the guard. "But we must not detain you from your duties any longer."
The earthling's eyes narrowed. "The prisoner was locked away to begin with because he's dangerous."
"We'll let you know if we need assistance, but for the moment your services are no longer required, Guardian." The unicorn's voice calm, polite, but firm.
Verge snorted as she turned away, tossing her purple mane. From the doorway, she looked over shoulder. "You are a fool, Summerset, like all your kind. Stop thinking with your horn and exercise your head for once." And with a rattle of armor, she was gone.
"What was that supposed to mean?" Tidal asked incredulously. "Honestly! Earth ponies!"
"Everyone is tense these days," Summerset shrugged.
"Where in the Rainbow is Hypernion? I go through all this trouble, walk through digusting layers of I don't know what, barely able to see an inch in front of my nose, past rows of vicious--" He cut himself off with a sideways glance at Chameleon, who was carefully schooling his face in an expression of blankness. "I went through a lot of work," Tidal repeated. "Where is he?"
"He's trying to find some specialized ingredients for the--" Summerset let his sentence die as the door swung open.
A mint green unicorn slid across the smooth tiles, before finding his footing. "Hey guys, what's up?"
Summerset let out a deep breath and Tidal nearly collapsed as his muscles untensed. "Have you ever heard of knocking, Jabber?" the blue unicorn demanded as he kicked the door closed.
"Sorry, sorry," Jabber replied, looking totally unrepentant. He turned towards Chameleon. "Wow. Are you sure there's a unicorn under there?"
Chameleon shifted underneath his layer of filth, less at the pink-haired unicorn's comment than at his strange yellow-green eyes. Tidal looked at Chameleon as if he had been trying to forget his existance. Summerset just shrugged.
"I don't suppose it's too clean down there," the sun-symboled unicorn said. Tidal made a sound that combined digust and incredulity, successfully infering that Summerset had made the understatement of the century.
"You aren't going to let Hypernion see him like that, are you?" Jabber said, pushing a pile of parchments, fossils, and what looked like a dead bird off a chair before plopping down.
"He's from the dungeon. What does Hypernion expect?" Tidal asked. "Have you ever been down there?"
"He'll freak. You know how Hype is," Jabber said, stretching back in his chair.
The three unicorns looked at Chameleon. The grey-green pony looked back, nonplussed.
"And then he'll give a speech," Jabber predicted after a few minutes of contemplation. "If there's one thing Hype loves--"
A sharp rap at the door interrupted him. Chameleon watched the other three unicorns turn towards the door, watched Tidal pull it open a crack, then take several steps back as a graceful pink earthling with rich red hair pushed through the doors.
"Queen Seashadow requests the presence of the Hypernion, unicorn of the Second Order of the Circle," she announced, standing at attention with lifted eyes.
"Ah . . . I'm afraid Hypernion is not available at the moment, caller."
From the shadows, Chameleon watched Tidal sweat, while the others focused on the caller with such intentness that it should have been obvious that they were trying not to look at something else. He would've known, if he'd been the messanger. But her eyes never left Tidal as the blue unicorn shifted under gaze.
"His presence is requested," she repeated.
"I'll go as his proxy," Tidal said, stifling a sigh. "I am also of the Second Order."
She gave one nod before turning and marching out the door. Tidal followed with obvious reluctance.
"Now what?" Jabber asked as he pushed the door closed again.
Summerset clicked a hoof against the tiles indecisively, then turned to Chameleon, who was still watching from the corner. "Sorry about that."
Chameleon gave a tilt of his head and a shrug of his shoulders to indicate that it didn't matter. "Perhaps you'd like a chance to, um, freshen up?" Summerset eyed the other unicorn doubtfully, perhaps trying to guess his proper color.
"Yes." Chameleon tried to remember what fresh water felt like and failed.
The orange unicorn nodded. "If you'll follow me then, . . . ?" His sentence trailed away with an expectant pause.
"Chameleon is my name."
"Chameleon," Summerset repeated. "Well, if you'll follow me . . ."
The grey-green unicorn nodded, limping forward.
"Jabber, hold down the fort please."
"Oh, give me the hard job why don't you?" The mint unicorn called as they left. Summerset's hooves clicked against the blue-tiled floor, as he slowed his paces for Chameleon. "I hope you'll get a chance to meet Hypernion soon, but it's hard to say; everything's been so chaotic lately . . ."
"It's been . . . interesting," Chameleon said. It was true; in the past two hours he'd had more mental stimulation than in the previous two decades.
"Yes, I suppose--" The hallway trembled and both unicorns automatically shifted their weight to compensate. Summerset moved to a window and grimaced. "It's started again."
"It's started," Chameleon said . . . and he wasn't looking outside at all.