Avarya reined in her ponygirls, and stepped off the coach; after tethering them to the post, and fastening their blindfolds, she favored the one with the clever tongue with a brief caress. The one so honored giggled at this and leaned into her touch, butting her blinded head affectionately against her shoulder, her armbinder lifting away from her tail as if in invitation.

She broke away a touch reluctantly; there would be time for that later.

Hopefully.

For now, though, she turned, walked up the deserted street, and - after one last glance to confirm they thought she was visiting the tack-shop - turned, instead, to the Tower.

No one could know about this meeting.

Up, up, climbing enough stairs to wind her, wishing she dared take the elevators, she arrived at the sixth floor almost panting, but unaccosted.

A foal like her was an upstart, an affront; had her mother been unbound and her father the stallion, the transgression might have been hidden from all but the subtlest inquiries... but it was her father who had sired her on one of his mares, and not only claimed his paternity, but had the audacity to raise her as if she were human.

Such a thing was not unheard of. But it was almost such, and still widely expected that she would eventually remember her place, and submit to bit and bridle.

She had no intention of disappointing her father so.

Avarya walked to the doorway of the most powerful man not on the Council, and knelt.

Waited.

Began almost to lose hope, before reminding herself that this was a tactic used by the powerful to overawe their supplicants.

Rose when, at last, the touch on her shoulder indicated she might do so without insult.

"Avarya," the man said. Baritone, quiet, filled with none of the menace she had expected from one so widely feared. "I must commend your discretion in seeking this meeting; no doubt you'll return from this excursion with enough to satisfy everyone you were merely shopping."

A smile ghosted across his no doubt artificially-youthful, artificially-attractive features.

"But enough about you. What is it you desire from me?"

Avarya met his eyes - presumptuous, an audacity permitted only because no one else knew she was there - and spoke: "Respect."

"Tsk. Honesty becomes you more, my dear; say why you're really here... why you came to me."

She held his gaze, defying him to gainsay her twice. "I spoke no lie; I do in fact desire your respect. But the reason I am here today is Aleiri."

The man raised an eyebrow at her. "Your half-sister? Surely her slanders would benefit from a less conspicuous mode of rebuke. You've proven yourself quite capable already to those that matter, regardless of what she claims. But then... this isn't about what she's saying, is it?"

She nodded, hoping her voice would not betray her as her kin had. "Two days ago, my mother was found Silenced. My full-sister, Terzanor, has not been seen in three. I know the prohibition against questioning the Silenced, but I see only one other way to learn who is behind this."

He frowned. "You would have me question her?"

"No!" Avarya raised a hand to her throat, aghast. Gathering her wits, she rallied, "I thought you, as the Binding Hand, might have some idea who ordered my mother's Silencing, or my sister's disappearance."

His frown deepened. "I do not... and this concerns me." He raised a hand to forestall her questions. "As you say, I am the Binding Hand, and thus should know of all Silencings within this province; that I did not know of this one speaks of forgery, and worse." He paused, and looked at her with a new, assessing eye. "It seems I must ask for your help, then, in this investigation."

She nodded. "If you can find my sister, I will do..." she hesitated, and squared her shoulders. "Whatever is required of me."

His eyes were sympathetic now, and he dropped the formal tone. "I can't promise anything, but I'll see if we can't smoke out the culprits one way or another." His tone was abruptly professional, cool, clinical. "First, have you spoken with your sister - Aleiri, I mean - since your mother was falsely Silenced?"

Avarya shook her head, the words coming in a rush. "Just the once, when I found out - when she told me. 'No more whining whinnies from your damn dam,' she said. I ran out to the pasture, and she - she was - "

Her voice failed her. "Go on," he prompted.

"Her hooves were locked on, and her arms were sheathed behind her in square position; the locks had Silence sigils, and her face... she wasn't wearing a bit, she was under a full hood! Not even her eyes were visible!" She quivered with indignation. "I had to recognize her by her... her..."

He nodded, his expression serious. "I'll have to see the work myself; did you bring photos?"

She nodded, abruptly shamefaced, and produced a small cylinder from a pouch at her side. "I didn't touch the locks, but I tried to get a good recording; camera work isn't my strong suit, though, and I didn't want to film my mother like she was some - "

"You've no need to defend your actions to me. Just the fact that it's unedited is enough," he said, taking the cylinder and examining it. "Let's have a look."

He stepped back through the doorway, beckoning her to follow. She did, numbly, watching as he slid the cylinder she'd provided into a reader, and a close-up of one of the offending locks appeared on the wall in front of them.

"Looks authentic, anyway," he muttered. "But then, padlocks have never been hard to design the outside of. However..." he pointed at the base of the padlock, where a keyhole was barely visible, and evidently sealed with metal. "That would never show up at all on a real Silence lock. Whoever our forger is, she's not quite clever enough."

Avarya gave a tentative smile, hope blooming in her chest. "So you believe me?"

The man gave her an amused look. "I do have certain resources at my disposal here. If you'd tried to lie to me, you wouldn't be standing there now."

She blushed. "I suppose I should have expected that..."

"I'll still probably need some excuse to investigate your mothers' locks personally, though. Sight is one thing, but truth in a matter such as this requires every sense."

She nodded, but felt compelled to object - "I realize that, sir, but I did take the trouble to obtain what other information I could at the time. Look at the other slides."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Sir? Some people might get hung up on that sort of formality, but I do have a name. And frankly, if I were that sort, you'd be in the stocks already." He smiled to take the blow off the reminder of her impertinence.

She blushed again. "Forgive me, then, ...Etserren."

"Ah, so you have done your homework. All right, let's have a look here." He gestured, and the lock's image on the wall vanished, replaced by another in more garish hues. "Now, I'm afraid I can't let you in on the rest of my observations, operational security and all that. Would you like to wait here while I finish, or would you rather tend to your ride home?"

She blinked, thinking of the ponygirls she'd left tethered outside. "Ah... I'd better make sure they're watered," she managed, bowing courteously before retreating out the door, trying not to think of what he might do to her 'while he finished', and trying not to hope for another chance of it.

She succeeded, mostly; well enough, at least, that when she emerged from the Tower her head was clear. Her steeds were still tethered where she'd left them, sweating only mildly in the midday sun; the street, still empty. She walked quietly over to the tack-shop, then less quietly to her coach, retrieving a sponge and flask from inside.

The clever-tongued one responded eagerly to her touch, stamping and nuzzling at her as she sponged the sweat away. She laughed in response, the ponygirl's joy at such simple pleasures infectious.

"I can't stay long," she warned, "I've still got purchases to make." This was, in fact, true; not the whole truth, certainly, but enough.

She turned her attentions with the sponge to the more sedate of the pair, who cooperated silently with her ministrations. She unbuckled the bit from her mouth, and let it hang there while she offered the flask's contents to her.

For all her stoicism, the girl was thirsty, and sucked greedily until she took it away, opening her mouth with just a trace of reluctance afterwards to accept the bit.

"Share, dear," Avarya admonished. "There'll be more when we get home." There was more in the coach, in fact, but that was for more extended excursions, and she didn't want her ponygirls soiling themselves in the street.

She gave the rest to the clever-tongued girl, who couldn't resist a chance to show it off a little before sucking the flask dry.

"Mistress," she whispered when she was done, "someone tried to open the coach while you were out."

Avarya frowned, and responded as quietly. "Did they succeed?" She hadn't noticed any tampering, and it was usually keyed to her personally in any case.

"No, but she was very quiet about it. I think she thought we were deaf." The girl shook her head, a quirk of her lips threatening to become a smile. "We pretended we couldn't hear her, just like you said."

Avarya noticed the quiet one nodding affirmation out of the corner of her eye. "Sugar sticks for both of you, then, when we get home," she murmured, before replacing the bit. A pat on both their shoulders, and she turned to the tack-shop to see about acquiring another pair of blinders, and perhaps a new harness.

The shopkeeper was surprised, and a touch flattered that Avarya had decided to come all the way out here for her purchases, and anxiously declaimed the quality of her hand-tailored wares, shyly offering to demonstrate their fit "if... if you'd like to see them worn first." Mentally comparing the shopkeeper's figure to that of her ponygirls, Avarya considered for a moment, then agreed. "I'd like that, yes; did you have something in mind for my girls out there?" She nodded out the window.

"Yes, ma'am... but I'm alone on this shift," she said, blushing. "Will you release me when you're satisfied?"

Avarya nodded, smiling. "Certainly; too slow a day to bring a partner?"

Either the shopkeeper didn't trust herself enough to answer, or wanted to change before losing her nerve; whichever it was, she scurried into the back room, her face bright red, and soon Avarya could hear the clink of buckles and chains.

When at last she emerged, Avarya was quite impressed with the shopkeeper's handiwork.

"You made this yourself?" She indicated the ball gag, and the girl nodded, voicing a somewhat garbled "Ah-huh" to emphasize her affirmation. "Very nice; the red's a good color to display to customers." She smiled. "Does it take other colors, though? I like my girls to show a little variety."

Another nod, another blush, and a yelp as Avarya tweaked a nipple playfully. "Yeff, mi- ma'am."

"And the harness? If you have a matched pair, I may be back for the other one too."

Another nod, another blush, and a squeal this time as Avarya's nail traced its way down her flank. "Fhlee of 'em, ma'am," she managed to get out, her fingers fluttering behind her back as she tried in vain to reach Avarya's teasing touch.

"Now, all that said," Avarya continued, drawing back as the shopkeeper tried to stifle a disappointed moan, "I was actually hoping you had a pair of blinders in stock."

The girl's eyes brightened, and she nodded once more, indicating a previously unnoticed rack where several varieties of headgear hung unobtrusively. Avarya took one promising set and inspected it; these blinders had locking hinges, and could be adjusted for anything from unobstructed vision to perfect eye cover. The price was not unreasonable either.

"Interesting... I'll take this one, then. And a copy of the harness you're wearing, if you'd be so kind."

The shopkeeper nodded, and turned sideways so she could manipulate the console. After a moment, she gestured for Avarya to confirm her purchases, which she did with a nod and a brief glance into the scanner.

"Now, I suppose I am satisfied, so I'll see about releasing you. Turn around, dear," Avarya gestured. Obediently, the shopkeeper turned her back, and Avarya undid the primitive knot - all the girl could tie by herself - that held her arms together.

She'd have to come back here sometime; that shopkeeper really was adorable. And she still had to see what Etserren had to say... not, she reflected, that she was anxious for another six-story climb.

Still, she had to know.

There was no wait, this time - "Come in, come in!" His enthusiasm revitalized her, and she stepped past the threshold to find him grinning at her, holding a pad and stylus as if it were a baby.

"Quite a lot of puzzle pieces you've given me! I think I've found the culprits - do you recognize either of these two?" He tapped the pad, and two unfamiliar women appeared on the wall; she shook her head, and Etserren shrugged. "Ah well. I'm pretty sure it's them; if you do see them, be careful - and let me know. If I'm right, and they are behind your sister's disappearance, they aren't going to stop with her."

Avarya nodded, committing the faces to memory - one with a shock of blue hair framing a mischevious grin, freckles, and equally blue eyes, the other with red tresses, amber eyes, and a more serious expression.

"Oh, and one more thing - could you hold on to this? Put it around your neck, or some such." He held up a small, iridescent disc. "It'll help me find you if they get the best of you."

Avarya hesitated, wondering just how much she was willing to trust this man. But if it helped her find Terzanor... she took the disc, tucking it into her waist pouch.

"Thanks; should I give it back to you after you've caught them?"

He shook his head, still smiling. "After we've caught them, and if you like; but if you do return it, kindly do it personally. The couriers' permissions don't actually extend this high." The smile became a grin. "Besides, I think Annadee's developed a bit of a crush on you."

Avarya cocked an eyebrow at him. "The shopkeeper? I only met her today; she attaches that quickly, does she?"

"Or detaches. The windows on the storefront have had to be replaced a couple times after a couple of particularly nasty types paid her a visit."

"Not the same ones you've got on the wall there now, I presume...?"

"No, I caught these two. Hard not to when they're on the same street as my office and half-dazed from being flung through a solid centimeter of glass. She can take care of herself if she feels the need."

"Augmented, is she?"

"Now that'd be telling. Why not ask her when you get back?"

"Well aren't you confident I'll be showing up again?"

"What can I say? She doesn't dress up like that for just anyone, you know."

"You watched?"

"Of course! What kind of paranoid, lecherous shadowy authority figure do you take me for?" He struck an exaggerated pose, and she laughed despite herself. "At any rate, she's mine. She can take care of herself, but I like to back her up regardless."

She smiled at this, and he smiled back. "Anyway, I think you promised your girls a treat when you got home; wouldn't do to keep them waiting too long, hm?"

She made an exaggerated bow which he chuckled at, then turned into the doorway. She looked back at him. "It's been... refreshing, dealing with someone who actually cares about their subs."

She made it all the way to the first floor before she realized she was still smiling.

Her ponygirls were getting restless; she had left them standing there for the better part of a day, and only watered them once; she vowed to herself she'd make it up to them later... not that she'd say anything of the sort. Even the clever-tongued one was drooping a bit.

She perked up when she heard Avarya approach, though, and perked up more when she hugged the pair of them before untying them from the post, and unfastening the blindfolds.

After climbing into the coach, she hardly needed to call out "home, girls!" before they turned in unison and began the trek back.