Mareton groaned as consciousness returned. If anything, his neck hurt even more than before.
"Try to be more careful," Swinn yelled at him. "We don't have an unlimited supply of this stuff."
"Oh, too bad," Sebastius said. "I was really hoping I could get my head cut off one more time. I'm beginning to grow fond of it." He shakily got to his hooves. At least his head was facing forward this time. But it felt like he had a steel collar cutting into his neck.
The SwinnDell sisters had apparently dragged him into the courtyard of a public building. He was next to an empty fountain.
"So…" the little colt said. "I take you to the doctor now?"
"Actually-" Dell said.
"Sure," Swinn said. "We don't have much of a choice in the matter. We need our horns, and Sebastius needs his head."
"I have my head, thank you very much, girls," Sebastius Mareton said. "Even so."
"You know rules," the colt said. "You pay first."
Swinn and Dell sighed in unision.
"Please," Dell said. "We're desperate. Can't we just give you an IOU?"
"Sorry, missies," the colt said. "I don't take those."
"What?" Mareton said. "Don't tell me you girls are broke already!"
"Sorry?" Dell said.
"Not a bit on me," Swinn said. "And I left the cart and all our valuable artifacts back at the hotel. And I don't know the way back there, so even if I wanted to fetch them I couldn't… without paying."
Sebastius glared at the little colt. "How about we make another deal. You take us back to their hotel, and I agree not to strangle you with your own tail."
The colt just giggled. "You no make good threat. I run. You can't."
"Come on, Pudding," Swinn said. "Just pay the colt. You know you want to find the doctor as badly as we do."
"We'll pay you back later," Dell added.
Sebastius rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right." But he couldn't see much of a choice, and anyways, in his profession, money was cheap.
"Here," he said, pawing awkwardly through his clothing. "12 bits, the rest of them will come when we get to the place the Doctor lives. Clear?"
"Crystal, Mister Mareton," the colt said.
"He rents an apartment here," the colt said. "Room in back."
Mareton examined the establishment. It was a pretty typical Marabian boarding house on the shadier side of town. He rapped on the door.
After a while, the top half of the door opened. A zebra who was grinning far too much for Mareton's liking leaned out. "Welcome, fine ponies," he said in Marabian. "What can I do for you?"
"These ponies want meet Doctor Zerato," the colt said. "And they only speak Equestrian."
Not entirely true, Mareton thought. He spoke Marabian. But Swinn and Dell never bothered with any language other than Equestrian.
The wide grin vanished. "Doctor Zerato's not here," he said, switching to Equestrian.
Swinn grabbed the zebra by the throat and smashed his head into the doorframe.
"Swinn!" Dell said.
"Do not give us that!" Swinn yelled at the zebra. "Find him, or tell us where he will definitely be. Or I'm not responsible for what I may do!"
"Unicorns," Sebastius said, rolling his eyes.
"H-he left," the zebra stammered, his eyes wide in panic, "this morning. I don't know where he went. Honest. Leave me alone and don't fetch the guards!"
Sebastius Mareton blinked. "Wait… what would the guards want with you?" He leaned conspiratorially against the door. "What are you hiding?"
"Doctor Zerato," the colt said, blinking rapidly.
"Huh?"
"He mentioned that he was in trouble with the authorities," Swinn said, loosening her grip on the zebra's neck for a second. "Okay. So are you sure you have no clue at all where the doctor went?"
"None," the landlord spluttered, breaking free of Swinn's grip and ducking behind the door.
"Is that what you want to tell the guards?" Mareton said. "I hear they like to make examples out of so-called 'collaborators' when they can't catch the real criminal."
"Is there any place he mentioned to you? Like, in conversation?" Dell asked.
"Last time I was in Marabia," Mareton said conversationally, "I got to watch them feed a zebra to a lion because he'd sheltered a murderer unintentionally."
"Really?" Swinn said.
"Well, I was going to, but then some pony in a black mask showed up and ruined the whole show. But somehow I don't think your doctor is the type to rush in and rescue old landlords."
"Just leave me alone!" the zebra wailed.
"Better think of something quick," the colt said. "These ponies mean what they say."
"Um… um…"
"Maybe he's staying with relatives?" Dell asked.
"That's it!" the zebra landlord said, reappearing in the doorway. He looked very relieved. "Yes, his sister. He talks about her all the time. I think she lives in… she lives in… the Dalquen district. Yes. Yes, I'm quite certain." He grinned at them in a way that said Now please leave me alone.
"Good," Mareton said. "I don't need an extortionist colt to show me the Dalquen district. I visit that place every time I'm in Marabia."
"Isn't that the prison theater?" Dell asked.
Sebastius grinned widely. "Yes. Best place for entertainment ever."
The zebra gave them a look that said he thought they were creeps.
"Then what are we waiting for?" Swinn asked. "Let's get on the road!"
"You really don't go to Marabia much, do you, girls?" Sebastius said. "Look at the sun. Nearly set. And you know what happens tonight."
"What?" asked Dell.
"The other thunderstorm. Marabian thunderstorms are always done in sets of three. They power up the magical lightning shrines for the Marabian's festival of Alab, the lighting god." Mareton waved his hoof at the lightning rods on all the roofs. "And I don't want to go wandering in the night during a thunderstorm of any sort, thank you very much. Much less when the pegasi are actually aiming their lightning at the ground."
"Okay," Swinn said, scowling. "So what? Do we just bunk here?"
"Hey, landlord!" Sebastius said. "I want two rooms for one night. You do rent by the night, don't you?" He grinned evilly.
Apparently he was grinning too much for the landlord's liking, from the way he frantically nodded. "Sure, sure, whatever you say kind ponies. Two rooms. Come in." He opened the bottom half of the door.
Sebastius Mareton stared at the ceiling.
He didn't expect to get any sleep. He hadn't managed to sleep the night before. His neck hurt to the point where a less pain tolerant pony would be crying, and his legs just plain refused to fold into natural positions. It would be yet another long night, listening to the thunder crash outside and reminding himself that the building he was in had a perfectly usable lightning rod and that even if lightning did strike the building it couldn't possibly strike him and he had plenty of time to get out and escape the perfectly-normal not-extra-scary-just-because-a-lightning-bolt-started-it fire.
At least they'd finally got rid of that money-grubbing orphan colt. Mareton had told him none too gently that his services were no longer required, and the colt had shuffled off, grumbling.
Now all they had to do was find this Doctor Zerato. Mareton couldn't help but dread the visit. He'd never understood most ponies' attitudes towards doctors. In his experience, allowing a stranger to poke you, examine you, ask you probing questions, drug you, and cut you into pieces, was the kind of thing that got you killed or worse. But unlike most injuries, this one was not self-medicatable.
Mareton got out of bed and started pacing back and forth. The awkward leg movements needed to propel himself forward felt more natural now, though a lot of ponies would assume from all the swaying he did that he was drunk. He half hoped that soon he would be able to run again, and half hoped that he would be cured too fast for such an action to become necessary.
He switched gears. He had a new experiment he wanted to try.
Mareton reached into one of many hidden pockets and pulled out what looked like a pair of magnets. Making sure not to separate them, he put them on the crack between the door and the wall, so that opening the door would pull them apart. If that happened, the pony unfortunate enough to be on the other side of the door would learn what a nerve-stab spell felt like, leaving them paralyzed while the door closed again.
Confident in his security, Sebastius then pulled out a fake spyglass. Of course it wouldn't take a genius to figure out that it didn't actually work and therefore was probably fake, but the trick was to get it open. With a bit of pressure in the right places, the twist of a few decorative gemstones, and- most importantly- one hoof holding down the red scorpion button at all times, the glass lens came out easily. Out slid two sparkly stones more precious than gems.
Swinn and Dell's horns.
Of course he'd kept them on his pony. The SwinnDell sisters were stupid to stop looking so early. But it was their loss.
And now he had a pair of unicorn horns all to himself.
He gave into temptation and indulged in a maniacal giggling fit for a few minutes.
"Oh, cruel universe, evil fate, diabolical chance, which has seen fit to deny me the power of my dreams by a mere circumstance of birth- and yet I defy you at every twist and turn! Oh, you precious little unicorns, secure in your natural superiority- keep your eye on me, watch me well, and may your rest be a little more uneasy. I may not have the head start that you have. I may not be born great. You may force me to fight for every drop of magic that I can get my hooves on. But I will fight. And I will win! And then- oh, then- you will know what fear is."
Power trip over. Now to actually use the horns.
Sebastius had tried Ahuizotl's unicorn serum before, and had a small idea of what it felt like to use his magic the way unicorns used their magic- by channeling it thought a power enhancer, like a horn or serum, rather than just expending the ridiculously small amount through his hooves like most earth ponies did. Still, this was a new experience and he wasn't even sure it would work.
Darned if he was going to stick the two horns on his head. That would look stupid.
So he just touched one horn with each front hoof and stared at them. He pretended he wanted plants to grow; that was usually what helped him connect with a source of magic, as he was calling on his own personal power.
Nothing was happening.
Maybe he needed to stop pretending he wanted plants to grow and start finding some actual plants that he would then cause to grow…
A loud crash shook him out of his thoughts.
"Guards, guards!" a mare screamed.
Mareton muttered a few curses under his breath and scooped the horns hastily into a secret pocket. At least Swinn and Dell weren't likely to search him a second time.
After detaching his alarm magnets, he joined the general crowd in the hall.
"They're all over the second floor!" a zebra mare cried in Marabia, stumbling up the stairs. "They've taken the landlord!"
Mareton really should have assumed that the landlord was engaged in some sort of illegal activity besides just allowing a lawbreaking doctor to bunk in his building. Not only was his body deteriorating, his judgment was also going.
He rapped on the door to Swinn and Dell's room. "Hey, SwinnDell sisters!" he shouted in Equestrian. "Get up unless you want to risk arrest." Marabian guards had an annoying habit of arresting everyone in the area when they were originally only after one criminal.
"What can we do?" an elderly winged zebra asked.
"Roof," a younger wingless zebra with an eyepatch said. "Follow me."
"What, the roof?" Mareton said. "Are you crazy? It's a (censored) thunderstorm!"
"Would you rather face the guards?" the elderly zebra asked.
Actually, yes, Mareton would. But the rush of zebras to get up the stairs left him no choice but to follow.
The rooftop of the boarding house was flat, like most Marabian roofs. It also had a magical lightning rod, some crates, and a community mechanical clothesline- a clothesline pulley- that was strung over the gap between the boarding house and its next door neighbors' house.
"We take the pulley across," the zebra with the eyepatch said.
"But it's broken," a zebra mare said, pointing. The crank handle that was used to operate the pulley had been broken off.
"Quick!" the old winged zebra said, shoving heavy boxes on top of the trapdoor. "Block this off!"
"Hey, Missies Swinn and Dell!" The little orphaned colt popped up on the roof of the building the clothesline led to. "Missies, this pulley works! Hold on, I pull you across!"
Swinn and Dell grabbed onto the clothesline, and the colt cranked the handled, pulling them across the gap between the buildings and onto the other roof.
"Thanks," Dell said, "but promise you'll help the others, okay?"
"Especially Mareton!" Swinn said.
"Got it, missy. You better get on the ground. You no want to be struck by lightning instead of the rod, huh? Lightning shooters coming this way."
"Thanks again," Dell said, as she and Swinn went down the trapdoor and out of Mareton's range of vision.
"Okay," the one eyed zebra said. "My turn." He hooked one hoof over the clothesline.
The colt cranked the pulley without warning, jerking the zebra off the roof edge before he was ready. Then the colt stopped, leaving the one eyed zebra dangling precariously over the alley, struggling to pull his other hoof up.
"Hey!" he said. "Pull me over! Those girls said-"
"Those girls are my friends," the colt said. "They can come for free. You? Toll booth!"
"I don't have any jangles!" the zebra said.
"Liar." The colt jerked the crank back and forth, shaking the zebra.
"Stop! Stop! Arg…" the zebra fished in one pocket with his free hoof.
"Toss it. Don't let them fall or I just might let you fall," the colt said. He brought the one eyed zebra a little closer.
The zebra chucked a handful of jangles onto the rooftop.
"This all? Your life must not be worth much to you," the colt said. He jerked the crank back and forth until the zebra had to let go with his hoof, but he caught the line with his mouth.
"Wait, wait," he said in a muffled voice due to the rope. He flung jangle after jangle onto the roof.
"Okay. That's enough. Just give me thief's honor that you will not try and take your coins back as soon as I bring you across."
"Thief's honor," the zebra mumbled through a mouthful of rope.
"What?" the colt said, grinning. "I can't understand you."
The zebra hauled himself up painfully slowly and hooked his hoof over the rope again. "Thief's honor, I won't steal from you. Now cut this out and get me over there!"
The colt pulled the pulley the rest of the way.
The one-eyed zebra scrambled up and glared at the colt. "You're lucky I take my honor seriously," he snarled, and went under the trapdoor.
The elderly winged zebra had already dug some jangles out of his own pocket. "Here, are these enough?"
The colt glanced briefly at the pile and said, "You got it, mister. No need to throw them; just pay when you're across."
He may have been a repulsive little extortionist, but Mareton could not help but feel a bit of respect for the little guy. He did certainly have a good grasp on what his 'clients' were capable of. He seemed to know when to press for more money, and when to let it go lest he lose the small amount when trying for a bigger one. More importantly, he could figure out which ponies were likely to try and take their money back, which would try to get out of paying, and which would act honorably.
Which was why Mareton couldn't possibly trust him.
All the other ponies had been towed across safely.
"Well, Mister Mareton?" the colt said. "I promised!"
Mareton looked at the nearby rooftops. Some of the magical lightning rods far away were beginning to glow with electrical energy, but he was sure they wouldn't reach this building anytime soon.
"Yeah, right," he told the colt. "I'm not paying you a cent. I can just leap across."
The colt gave him bug eyes. "Across that gap? It's seven feet!"
"Nothing I'm not used to," Mareton said. "Watch me."
He backed off from the edge a bit, examining the situation.
While he had leaped for ridiculous distances before, he'd never bothered measuring them or anything, and it was too dark to make estimation easy. So he wasn't quite sure that he could make it, but he had no doubt that if he tried to let himself be pulled across by the colt, the colt would cut the rope and tell Swinn and Dell that the rope had snapped by itself. Because Mareton was greedy, and willing to hurt a child, even if he was unprovoked and all he had to gain was a pile of bits. The colt couldn't possibly risk it.
He'd have to time his jump right so that he didn't bang his head on the lightning rod, but that was the least of his worries. The main concern was if he'd have enough power in his leap. Now was the time to find out if he could run with his injured legs.
He trotted in circles for a bit, getting warmed up. Then he galloped.
He tripped once, not a good sign, but he found it was much easier if he didn't think about it too much.
But actually, the thing preying on his mind most was not that he would fall to his death. Swinn and Dell would probably fix that for him. No, what worried him was that, if he was going to jump that distance, the necessary arc meant that at the height of his jump, he'd be higher than the lightning rod. Meaning that if the lightning strike happened to come near the house during his jump…
He couldn't think about that.
He galloped in a circle a few more times, then ran for the edge of the building.
Wait, wait, jump!
He soared through the air, high and long, hoping he would make it to the other side-
His flight abruptly stopped, he was jerked back, and he hung over the alley, staring straight at the ground. He twisted his head and looked up.
Oh no.
His tail was caught. That's why he'd stopped. He was dangling helplessly over the street, dozens of feet up.
But that wasn't the worst part.
His tail was caught in the lightning rod.
No, no, no, no! It couldn't end like this! It just couldn't!
Mareton flailed about, accidentally punching himself in the face. The pain felt distant and irrelevant to the current crisis. Mareton couldn't think straight. All forms of reason flew out of his head. He was too terrified.
A loud crack of thunder reminded him that the pegasi were coming closer. He shivered and shut his eyes. About the only good thing about the situation was that the rain would prevent anypony from seeing his tears.
"Hey, Mister Mareton, down here!"
Mareton opened his eyes again. The colt had opened a lower window and was leaning out with a basket.
"Toss me some goodies and I promise to see you safe to the ground!"
Mareton frantically went through his pockets. Bit after bit fell into the basket.
The colt shook the basket and smiled at his prizes. "A little more, Mister Mareton."
Mareton shook his coat. "That's all the money I carry," he said honestly.
"Oh, too bad for you then. Hope you like electric therapy, huh, Mister Mareton?"
As if on cue, lightning lit up the alley and thunder roared in Sebastius' ears simultaneously.
"All right!" Mareton said, emptying his pockets. A few amulets and gemstones fell into the basket, along with the alarm magnets and the fake spyglass. "There. Take them. They're valuable artifacts. Really!"
"You sure that's it?"
Mareton padded his coat a bit more. All he could find was the ice dagger, and he was reluctant to throw that away. The colt had no idea of its true worth.
"That's all, really," he said. "Just let me down!"
"Sorry, did you say please?"
There was another thunderclap.
"Please please please please…" Sebastius whimpered.
The colt stared at him for a moment.
"Boy, you must think me stupid," he said. "I let you down, you get your stuff back. No deal. Goodbye, Mister Mareton."
The colt pulled back into the window and shut it behind him.
Mareton just gaped at the window in horror.
No, no, no…
He could only think of one more thing to do. Taking the ice dagger in once hoof, he flung it up with a twist, severing the end of his beautiful tail. Then he pulled himself into the proper falling position as he plummeted to the ground.
The crash jarred him. It felt like he'd broken everything there was to break. But his one remaining eye was still open, and he could see the ground slightly, so he probably wasn't dead. He blinked and twitched one hoof. Nope, not dead. The previous times he was dead, he'd still felt pain, but hadn't been able to see or move. So this time he'd survived.
Though he couldn't think how his pain could possibly be worse if he was dead.
When he was a colt, anytime he'd wanted Rodolphus' attention and his dad wasn't willing to give it, Rodolphus would make him count in Greek while he waited. It wasn't a very good trick for curing impatience. But during his time in the sanitarium, Sebastius had learned pretty fast that it did help when it came to ignoring pain. Somehow, the act of counting, in a foreign language where you had to think hard about the next number, made it a little easier to endure anything. All you had to do was trick yourself into believing that your agony was far away, distant, irrelevant, and that all that was important in life was to remember what came after epsilon, and if you could only do that, you would make progress.
Mareton shivered. He was cold, wet, bloody, anguished, but that didn't matter right now. Nothing mattered. There was only one thing.
Alpha, beta, gamma, delta…
Those numbers that he'd clung to, like a lifeline, during so many dark moments in his life.
Epsilon, digamma, zeta, eta…
Swinn and Dell had better find him soon.
But of course they'd come running. He had their… he had their…
A brief recollection flashed across Mareton's mind. He was flinging all sorts of items at the colt, trying to get him to let him down. He'd emptied all his… pockets…
…And given the colt two pointy gemstones…
…those hadn't been gemstones…
Mareton supposed it was the shock that killed him.
It was hard to say how he knew he was dead. He still felt wet and cold. His body ached just as much as it did while he was alive. He could still hear the rain and the thunder. He could still smell his own blood. He could still see, which surprised him a bit, since he hadn't been able to see the other times he'd died. But then, he had closed his eyes (well, the one eye he had left) just before his deaths, and dead ponies didn't open their eyes. The main reason he knew that he was dead was that he could no longer move. Not even his eye. Not even to draw breath. And even though he could still sense everything, it felt more distant. And the longer he stayed dead, the fainter his perceptions became.
Theta, iota, iota alpha…
His vision and hearing blurred, and he could hardly feel the raindrops. His pain still felt sharp, though- just as sharp as ever. And now he couldn't try to shift to a more comfortable position, or even grind his teeth or whimper from the pain. All he had was his numbers.
Iota beta, iota gamma, iota delta…
As even the thunder began to fade from his hearing, something else nagged on the edge of his brain. It wasn't words, not exactly. It was the faint memory of the softest whisper.
Come to me, Sebastius.
