“Silver, did you mess up Diamond’s gig at the paper?”
Silver Spoon’s stomach dropped. A light flush colored her ears and she felt a cold, neutral expression wash over her face. Her mind scrambled double time. Not fast enough.
I need time. The silent seconds slipped away, and each and every one cemented her guilt. Buy more time. You’ll be fine. Just buy time. Pace. Breathe.
“E-excuse me?” She aimed for righteous indignation, but landed on squeaky disbelief.
Berry Pinch repeated the question.
“I don’t understand what you mean, Pinch. What are you talking about?”
The little unicorn narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
Bolt-holes hid in every sentence—misdirections, red herrings, plausible doubts. Silver only had to find one. “What? I can’t give you an answer when I don’t even understand the question.” Find technicalities. Ask specifics. “Since when do I have anything to do with The Foal Free Press?”
“Well… nothing,” admitted Berry Pinch. “Nothing directly. But I know you were on the student council with Truffle that week, and I remember Truffle worrying about how mean Gabby Gums was getting. He spilled his guts to anypony who’d listen. I also remember how nervous and jumpy everypony got when all their secrets started getting out, and I know you like keeping your secrets, Silver Spoon.” She shrugged at Silver’s raised eyebrows. “I dunno what they are, but I know you got ‘em. I mean, everypony does.”
“Yeah. Everypony keeps secrets.” Silver braced her hooves against the table, her mouth pinched tight. “So out of all the ponies in Ponyville, you think I’m the one who somehow sabotaged the Gabby Gums articles? Me. Diamond Tiara’s best friend in the whole world.”
A familiar oily, black feeling crinkled under Silver’s coat. Her flank itched and her chest tightened around her ribs. She took a breath and a small sip of tea. Before Berry Pinch could counter, Silver went on the attack.
“You know, you’ve got a really funny way of thanking somepony who put your birthday party together, Pinch. Like, I don’t expect a parade or anything, but at the very least, I didn’t think you’d corner and attack me with these—these baseless accusations!”
That got her. The birthday filly looked away and shuffled her hooves. “Yeah, okay… maybe that was kinda messed up—”
“Try a lot messed up.”
“—and I guess I’m sorry about that, Silver.” Berry Pinch clicked her tongue and flicked her eyes back up. “This whole thing’s been bugging me for a while, though. Part of it always felt weird to me, like the blackmailing stuff.”
Silver Spoon pricked her ears and blinked.
That’s right. In the midst of the paper scandal’s fallout, Apple Bloom exposed the blackmail. In fact, that had been the final blow to Diamond’s editor position; she’d ranted about it for weeks. In her haste to bury the whole thing and move on, Silver never stopped to truly appreciate the implications.
“And here’s the other thing: if Diamond Tiara had those embarrassing pictures of Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom, then why’d she wait so long to use ‘em?”
Implications like that.
“I’ve known Diamond a long time, Silver Spoon. She ain’t patient. At all. If she was gonna do it, she’d have done it after that lame Spike article.” Berry Pinch crossed her forelegs, one hoof thoughtfully tapping the table. It rattled Silver’s tea saucer. “But Scootaloo says Diamond only sprung those pictures on ’em after they tried to walk away. The pics you suggested to Featherweight, Silver. I just think it’s kind of a weird coincidence, you know?”
Silver Spoon recalled the beginning of their conversation. “I should give you the benefit of the doubt.” The teacup pressed hard against the soft undersides of her hooves. She was going to tell.
Pinch must have put it together during the summer and planned to tell Diamond as soon as she got back from vacation. But she decided to ask me about it first. The stereo cycled back to the top of the playlist. Whip Warrior’s theme thumped the floorboards under Silver’s shoes. Because I’m not as bad as she thought. The slimy, crinkly feeling got worse.
“Berry Pinch, I can’t control what Diamond does. She’s her own pony, you know that.” Silver shrugged. “Featherweight felt bad about the pictures he took, so I helped him pick out some good ones.”
A beat of silence passed between them. Slowly, Berry’s green eyes narrowed. “You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?”
“Weaseling. The exact thing I asked you not to do.” Caught red-hooved. If Pinch harbored any speculation of Silver’s innocence earlier, then she didn’t anymore. “I’m not stupid, Silver Spoon. I see you do it all the time when Cheerilee catches you passing notes and now you’re doing it to me. Look, I’m not accusing you, okay?”
Liar.
“Did you screw up Diamond’s editor job or not? It’s a yes or no question.”
Silver adjusted her glasses and took an acute interest in the bar’s wallpaper. Her silence lingered on long enough to answer the question for her, assuming everything else hadn’t done so already.
Berry Pinch didn’t seem too surprised. “Okay, then lemme ask you something else. Did you do it on purpose? I mean, did you tell Featherweight to use those pictures knowing that… that, I dunno, something bad would happen?”
Any lie Silver told now had a turkey’s chance in Tartarus. Even Twist would be able to see through it. Yet, the truth…
Silver Spoon slowly took another sip of tea, wishing she’d brewed something gentler. It needed more sugar. In her first year as a tea party pony, she’d learned a near-universal fact: nopony wanted straight tea. It needed milk, honey, or sugar added to it. Tea had a bitter taste on its own. The truth was very much the same.
She didn’t have the sugar to sweeten this one. Silver’s gaze still hadn’t left the wallpaper. “What happens if I say yes?”
The unicorn shrugged her thin shoulders. “Shoots if I know. I’m not a fortune teller.” She thought deeper into the statement. “Oh. You mean, am I gonna tell Diamond?”
Slowly, Silver dragged her eyes back to Berry’s. “Yes.”
“Oh, sure. Now I get a straight answer.” Pinch almost smiled at that.
Back in the ring, the main attraction’s absence had been noted. Dinky and Pinkie and Snails watched them from beyond the ropes. Shady Daze looked as if he wanted to come to their table.
Berry Pinch glanced back at them, nodded to assure them she’d come back soon, and turned back to the table. The conversation had timed out. She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Maybe I am gonna tell her. I don’t know yet.”
Okay, so Pinch felt conflicted and needed this talk to end. You and me both, kid. Now to talk reason. They could find a solution that suited them both and ended comfortably, and then Silver could rebury this newspaper debacle and move on.
“When you think about it, it still worked out fine in the end.” Silver moved her saucer aside to clear a path between them on the table. Her hoof reached across the tablecloth and centimeters from Pinch’s fetlock. “In the long run, everypony’s glad Gabby Gums is gone, right?”
“Yeah,” Berry Pinch had to admit. “They are.”
“And the whole thing would have gotten worse before it got better, right?”
“Right.”
Silver attempted a smile. “So in a way, it’s a good thing, isn’t it? Diamond would’ve ended up doing something harsh, something worse. It would have hurt her just as much as everypony else. Maybe more.”
“Probably.”
“Alright, so there’s no real reason to tell—”
“Did you talk to her about it?” A red streamer fluttered down from the rafters and settled across Berry’s hooves. She absently toyed with it. “About whatever you thought Gums was gonna bust you on?”
Silver rolled her eyes with a sour chuckle. “Right. Like anypony could even get a hold of her that week.” She humphed under her breath. “Much less me.”
“’Kay, but did you even try, Silver Spoon? Yeah, Diamond might have been too busy being a sack of snake butts to listen, but she might not have.”
Keyword “might”. With the Silvers’ reputation on the line, “might” wouldn’t have been enough. Even if Silver hadn’t been strapped for time and… acted decisively, “might” still wouldn’t have been enough. If an appeal hadn’t worked, then she’d have been sunk either way, because that would mean she’d have incriminated herself. It had to happen the way it did. It had to.
In the midst of Silver wondering how much of her reasoning she wanted to share, Berry Pinch broke in again. “Listen. Diamond’s a colossal butt trumpet most of the time, but she’s still my friend. Friends tell each other the truth, Silver.”
The wrestling mask stretched back over Berry’s face. One green eye looked back at Silver as Berry tied back the straps. “And I’m gonna tell you something else. Diamond made me type up those stupid Gums articles until I got blisters in my hooves, and you know what? I didn’t see your name come up once. The way Featherweight was snapping his camera all over the place, he must’ve gotten at least one picture of you or your mom or somepony that Diamond coulda used. But she didn’t.”
The red lace doily twisted in Silver’s hooves. She took a shaky breath. “So… um, does that mean your ‘maybe’ turned into a ‘yes’?”
“I really think Diamond Tiara deserves to know why she’s not editor anymore, Silver. If anypony oughta tell her, it’s you.” Berry Pinch tucked her mane under the mask and pushed away from the table. “But if you don’t, I’m gonna.”
The moving wagons arrived the same day Diamond Tiara returned to Ponyville. The fifth set of movers that summer, by Silver’s count, and the fourth with foals (unless the swing set she’d seen earlier belonged to eccentric adults). Thankfully, that didn’t mean five sets of welcome parties to arrange. After the birthday party’s success, Pinkie Pie seemed satisfied with Silver’s initial two weeks of work study.
“But Pinkie says being a party pony lasts for the rest of your life anyway, so it doesn’t really matter when the work study ends.” Silver Spoon rechecked her horseshoes for dirt before stepping out upon the Riches’ yacht deck to join Diamond Tiara. Bobbing in the middle of Sweetshine Lake, the boat stood tall enough to boast an impressive view of the neighborhood.
Some steps ahead, Diamond watched the street lamps light up the darkening shore. The muggy July evening air fluffed ends of her mane into dandelion puffs. “In that case, what are you supposed to do now?”
“My usual tea parties, I guess. Maybe help Pinkie out sometimes? It’s a weird position, since Ponyville’s not that big on fancy parties.” Silver Spoon took in the idle chatter of the idle rich ponies that crowded the deck. They towered around her shoulders, knocking back cocktails and complimenting the loveliness of the evening, the weather, and each other’s outfits. “…I mean, not usually.”
Granted, a “party” didn’t quite fit this event. Counting themselves, the crowd capped out at seven and there’d been no events or celebrations, only a small get-together for the hoofful of Ponyville’s well-to-do.
“You could still do more birthday parties,” Diamond said. “You already threw a good one for…” She flicked her tail thoughtfully. “Wait, who’d you say that party was for?”
Silver hadn’t. “Berry Pinch. I did a wrestling theme.” Sounding more casual than she felt, she trotted down the deck of the Laissez Faire, observing the tiny crowd.
Outside the cabin, Father bowed his head in concentration over a chess board. Spoiled Rich sat opposite of him, gently swirling her brandy glass and awaiting his next move. Both stayed quiet as the fillies passed and neither seemed to notice them. Must have been a good game.
Meanwhile, Mother engaged in conversation with Rarity beside the railing. Apparently, she greatly appreciated Sweetie Belle’s enthusiasm for music, but wondered why the filly didn’t project it more. “…somewhat frustrating when I know there’s so much untapped potential in her.”
“Mm. I suppose she might still be a little shy, Pitch. She’s not quite used to—oh! Hello there, ladies.” Miss Rarity’s chandelier earrings swung as she knelt to admire Diamond Tiara’s blue sailor suit. “Oh my, aren’t you just adorable in that ensemble! It brings out the streaks in your mane—and the little shoes!” Enamored, she clasped a hoof against her black gown.
“What? Oh, thanks, Rarity.” Diamond looked back to Silver. “I’m guessing you did a Whip Warrior thing for Pinchy, then? She’s like, totally mental about that mare.”
“Uh-huh.” Silver Spoon steered the conversation back into Rarity’s harbor. She batted her eyelashes with a sweet little giggle. “Excuse me Miss Rarity, but weren’t you the pony who designed that outfit?”
Rarity shot a small wink that travelled the room. “Of course! That’s how I know it’s good, darling.” It earned a polite chuckle from the partygoers. “By the way, Silver Spoon, a little pink birdie tells me your first big party was quite the hit. Congratulations.”
Not quite the direction Silver hoped for. “Thank you.” She shrugged and glanced towards Father’s chess game. “I guess it did okay.”
Mother smiled and placed a hoof on Silver’s withers, cutting off an easy escape. “Don’t be so modest, Silver Spoon! It didn’t just do ‘okay’, it did magnificently. Pinkie hasn’t stopped talking about it for days.”
“Believe me, I know,” laughed Rarity. “Two party ponies in the same town? I don’t know how we’ll manage.”
Diamond pricked her ears and extended the amber spyglass hanging from her neck. Apparently she’d spied something interesting. “Competition’s healthy for business, Miss Rarity. It makes ‘em better because then they have to try harder.”
Mr. Rich pulled up to join them and smiled at his daughter. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” He leaned on the rail, brushing back his captain’s hat to let his mane get some air. A swish of his tail indicated the chess game a few steps away. “Your husband’s managed a turnaround, Pitch Perfect. I think Spoiled’s getting nervous.”
“I told you not to count him out, Rich. Silvers have their way of surprising ponies. We like to play the long game.” Mother’s light Manehattan accent thickened; she must have been having a good time. “When word got out where we’d be moving, you should’ve heard ponies talk. ‘The poor Silvers,’ they said. ‘Whoever heard of Ponyville?’ Ha!” Her white teeth flashed in a contagious smile and she nodded at the Golden Oak Library’s silhouette in the east. “Who indeed?”
“Mm-hmm. A new princess does do wonders for real estate,” Mr. Rich mused, “but I’ve got to wonder about the economic ramifications of…”
While Filthy Rich launched into economic theory, Diamond’s spyglass followed a brightly colored wagon ambling down the road. Lights twinkled along its edges and the brass wheel spokes glistened. “Check it out, Silvie.” Without looking away, she passed the spyglass into Silver’s hooves. “Doesn’t look like a moving wagon to me.”
Indeed, nothing about the wagon suggested a new family moving in. Not unless they were circus ponies. The thing seemed big enough to live in, big enough for a mansion’s worth of supplies. If Silver strained her ears, she could hear bells in the far, far distance. “Do you think it’s a circus? Maybe they’re headed for Canterlot.”
“Then they’re doing it wrong.” Diamond’s hoof traced the path the wagon had taken out of the Everfree, straight on through town and past all of Ponyville’s major landmarks and neighborhoods. “I’ve been watching that thing for like, fifteen minutes. They should have taken a side road and cut that time in half. At first I thought maybe the wagon got lost, but they don’t act lost to me.”
Silver Spoon gave the spyglass back. The tip of her tail flicked thoughtfully. “So, whoever it is wanted to be seen.”
“Yep. They’re advertising.”
“But what? I can’t read what’s written on the side from here.”
Diamond tapped Mr. Rich’s flank. “Daddy, what do you think it is?”
The traveling wagon had finally stopped for the night. Taking momentary pause in the discussion of market elasticity in political overhauls, Mr. Rich squinted at the shore. “Hmm. Well, there’s only one wagon, so it can’t be circus folk… not stoppin’ in the square, can’t be a traveling show…” He nodded to himself. “Salesponies, I think.”
Rarity peered out over the water, lightly fluttering her pocket fan. “Don’t be absurd, that location is terrible! They’re setting up miles away from any of the shopping areas. Who’d know where to find them?”
“They’re near Golden Harvest’s place and Sweet Apple Acres, aren’t they? I suppose it’d be a decent spot to sell farm equipment,” said Mother. She tilted her head at the flashing lights. “Though it is a bit… extravagant for farmers.”
“It is, isn’t it, Mrs. Perfect?” The smile lines in Mr. Rich’s face strained, more serious than his voice let on. Whatever the wagon implied, he didn’t like it. “Good eye, Diamond.”
Diamond Tiara grinned and adjusted the lapels of her sailor dress. “Thanks.”
Silver Spoon fought down a yawn. She didn’t have a watch, but it felt as if the party edged close to bedtime. “Di, you start working with Tall Order tomorrow, don’t you? Why don’t you ask about it then? Whoever it is has to have a permit or some junk.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Diamond rested her chin on the railing, yawning the yawn Silver had tried to suppress. “I’m only at Town Hall until noonish, so we can check it out tomorrow, okay?”
“Tomorrow?”
Diamond rolled her eyes. “No, a year from now. Why? Something wrong with tomorrow?”
The pearls of Silver’s necklace clacked against the brass railing as she leaned her neck out over the water. Diamond Tiara still didn’t seem super enthusiastic about working with a city legislator, but surely she’d like it better once she got used to it.
“If you don’t tell her, I will.”
The ultimatum never specified a date. She didn’t have to tell her tonight. Not after Diamond just got back in town. Not after impressing Mr. Rich in front of Ponyville’s elite. Throwing down bombshells tonight wouldn’t be proper, and unlike certain pink unicorns, Silver Spoon knew these things required finesse.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, she’d tell her.
“No, it’s fine, Di. Who knows, maybe it’ll turn out to be a carnival and we can play some games.”
Then again, telling her tomorrow might ruin Diamond’s first day with Tall Order. The day after tomorrow. Yes, that would be better.
Mr. Rich nodded to them with a light chuckle. “Or the carnival games’ll play you instead. You keep sharp in places like that, now. They’re crawling with con artists.”
“I can’t bear the thought of you sweet girls running around amongst untrustworthy ponies. Those types are so dangerous, you know.” Spoiled Rich parted the tiny crowd like a swan on the water. Father trailed a few steps behind her, examining his pocket watch. Neither seemed put out by the results of the chess game.
Rarity dismissed the thought with a wave of her hoof. “Dangerous? Oh, come now, Mrs. Rich. There isn’t a town in Equestria safer than Ponyville.”
A sardonic smile skirted Father’s face. “Yes, only three monster attacks this year. Well, give or take the odd plunder vine calamity, mirror pool disaster, and tyrannical regime.” It earned him a round of laughter from the crowd and a charitable, conceding nod from Rarity.
“They’re smart little ladies, Spoils,” Mr. Rich said. He gave Diamond’s curls a friendly ruffle. “They know who to trust.”
Mrs. Rich tittered under her breath—an airy sound that made Silver edge closer to Father—and gently swirled the brandy in her glass. “Of course, dear. Just thinking out loud.”
Silver Spoon watched the lapping waters break the moon’s reflection in the lake and tried not to think of anything at all.
In the Silvers’ foyer, the grandfather clock sounded twelve times. With her back pressed against the glass casing, every chime vibrated against Silver Spoon’s backbone. The ticking tickled the back of her head.
One hour until she met up with Diamond Tiara. Possibly five hours of fun before they went back home. Twenty-five hours before she ran out of excuses to procrastinate. Twenty-five hours to figure out what to say. Twenty-five hours to find a way to break the news painlessly.
Fat chance of that.
“By the way, Di, I knowingly and willfully sabotaged one of the greatest successes you’ve ever had. I know your parents were both really proud of you and you put hundreds of hours of work into it, but hey, it's only the most successful school paper publication in Ponyville’s history. Oh, but I had a good reason to ruin everything: I’m a paranoid jerk who thought you’d ruin my family. We’re still cool, right?”
Not that Silver necessarily had to confess to sabotage. She could twist the fact to suit her, but that option hardly seemed better. Hey, I went over your head and tried to help you because I don’t think you can handle your own business. It all blew up in your face, but whatever! Forgive and forget?
Silver let her empty notebook fall to the floor. It landed next to the paper mountain of crumpled apologies, excuses, and explanations.
“Incompetence or backstabbing. What a choice.” Silver’s tail curled over her cutie mark. “Or, the third option…”
Deny.
In the end, Berry Pinch only had her word against Silver Spoon’s, and Silver’s held more weight. Even if Featherweight admitted she’d helped him choose the Crusader pictures, nopony could prove intent. It wouldn’t be hard to shift Featherweight’s story either; dreamboat or not, the colt barely remembered what he ate for breakfast.
On paper, option three worked best. A year ago, she’d have done the same as any sensible Wisteria alumna and thrown Berry Pinch under the carriage. After all, Pinch wouldn’t hesitate to do the same. Except…
“You deserve the benefit of the doubt.”
Except she had. She’d been trying to be nice when she gave Silver time to confess on her own.
All this, presuming Berry Pinch would even carry out her threat. Perhaps she’d had second thoughts, or only wanted to appeal to Silver’s conscience. A bluff. Perhaps Silver had nothing to worry about at all.
“Y-Yeah.” Silver chewed her pencil eraser and let her head rest against the clock, staring up at the chandelier’s exquisite architecture. “She’s bluffing, that’s all.”
“Who’s bluffing?” Sweetie Belle—without invitation or a proper hello—trotted into the foyer, carrying a purple binder. She stepped around the pile of rough drafts and reached out with a curious hoof. “What are you doing with all this paper?”
Silver Spoon’s tail whipped the hoof away and swiped the paper ball out of Sweetie’s reach. “None of your business, blank flank. Keep your hooves to yourself and quit being so nosy!”
Sweetie gave the paper mound some space and rubbed her hoof. Not the least bit ashamed or affronted, she stepped closer. “You’re one to talk. You dig for dirt every time you pour a cup of tea, Silver Spoon.”
“It’s called ‘making conversation’, ever heard of it?” Silver glanced back at the clock. Fifty-five minutes to go. Ugh, I so don’t need this right now. “What are you even doing here, Sweetie Belle?”
“I invited her here,” said Mother’s voice. A moment later, she stood in the doorway, armed with a metronome, a designer attaché case, and a scowl to crumble mountains. Her silky orange tail lashed over the ebony hardwood. “You see, I thought we might try voice practice here instead of the music hall. I thought perhaps a home environment may feel more inviting, for I presumed, Sterling Silver Spoon, that we knew how to treat guests in this house.”
Silver flinched.
Sweetie Belle rocked back on her heels and rolled her eyes toward the chandelier. She didn’t smile, but it seemed to be a struggle.
Mother stepped forward, green eyes narrowed. “Am I mistaken, young lady?”
“But she—I… No, ma’am.” Silver Spoon didn’t have a leg to stand on. Poor manners of guests didn’t excuse such a rude introduction to the house. She sighed and put on a polite face. “I’m sorry, Sweetie Belle. You caught me at a bad time; I didn’t mean to snap at you. Did you need me for anything?”
“It’s fine,” said Sweetie Belle, though she now appeared more suspicious of Silver’s mountain of crumpled paper.
Before the blank flank started getting crazy ideas, Silver met her halfway. “I’m trying to think of something fun to do when I meet Diamond this afternoon. Today’s the first day of her work study assignment.” Mostly true. Planning out a fun day today might cushion bad news tomorrow. “I’ve got less than an hour to decide.”
Mother’s disapproval waned, but the slight twitch in her tail warned that Silver wasn’t out of the woods yet. “Why not decide when you meet her? It will be like an adventure.” Never one for adventures, that could only mean she thought Silver Spoon’s time better spent with something else. “In the meantime, my love, what do you think of accompanying Sweetie Belle and I on harpsichord today?”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Mother.” Not that she had much choice.
Intrigued, Sweetie Belle turned from the paper mound. “Ooh, I didn’t know you played, Silver Spoon.”
Silver shrugged. “Yes, but a little out of practice.” She wasn’t, but humility was an admirable quality in young ladies. Plus, it offered a good excuse for any flubbed notes. “Good chance to catch up on it now, I guess.”
Mother nodded with a smile. “My thoughts exactly. Now—to the drawing room, ladies. Let’s begin.”
An hour of The Queens and Ewe’s signature numbers and two shortcuts later, a panting, mildly sweaty Silver Spoon finally reached Town Hall.
Diamond Tiara sat up on the steps and waved. “Wow, did you seriously run all the way here? You must have been running really late.” She chuckled, thankfully more amused than annoyed. “Usually you’re five minutes early for everything.”
Silver braced herself against a wooden column, trying to catch her breath. “My mother’s… teaching… Sweetie Belle, and I’m—” Silver took one last gasp of air and swept her mane back into place. “I’m her musician, ’cause she sings better with music and we only had sheet music for show tunes.”
Two years ago, Mother would have balked at the very idea of opera’s half-baked cousin in their house. It should’ve gotten somepony kicked out, not invited in.
Diamond hissed sympathetically. “Gross.”
“You’re telling me.” Gross, but bearable. To Sweetie’s credit, the filly did know how to carry a tune.
They cut through the market on their way to the Apples’ place. In the bustle of the crowd, Silver noticed somepony with a raspberry coat approaching them. Swiftly, she moved to Diamond’s opposite side. A small opening appeared in the crowd, and Silver jumped into a canter—too slow to catch major attention, but fast enough to get out of sight.
Caught by surprise, it took Diamond Tiara a second to catch up. “Hey! Everything okay, Silver?”
“Of course,” said Silver Spoon. She licked her dry lips. “Why?”
“Uh, ’cause you started running ahead like somepony lit your tail on fire? Also, the back of your neck’s still all prickly and sweaty. Maybe you should get some water.”
Water did sound nice, but it would mean going back into the marketplace. “I don’t like crowds holding me up. It’s fine.” Now would be a good time for a subject change. Silver glanced down at Diamond’s white pinstriped vest. “Nice outfit, by the way. Is that new?”
“Oh, my business vest? I usually wear it when I go to the office with Dad, but Spoiled thought I’d make a good impression if I wore it for my work study, too. And it did!” Diamond adjusted the silk cravat—a perfect match for her eye color—and grinned. “This is new, though. Rarity gave it to me for good luck.”
Silver dared a glance over her shoulder. In the thick of the crowd, the pony with the raspberry coat lifted her head.
Cheerilee. Only Miss Cheerilee, licking a popsicle. She smiled and waved at them.
Relax. You’re getting paranoid. Silver waved back. “Did it work?”
“It didn’t hurt. Tall Order says he likes my drive and I’ve got a good eye for management.” Ever humble, Diamond fluffed her hair with a satisfied smirk. “Old news, of course, but it’s always nice when ponies recognize raw talent.”
Silver Spoon nodded solemnly. “Totally. Did you ask about the weird wagon from last night?”
Diamond Tiara fell into a hard, determined trot, the sort for making war upon blood rivals, Crusaders, and unfair homework distribution. She edged close to Silver’s shoulder, as if there might be ears listening.
“Yeah, and get this: there’s no record of a traveling sales wagon, a circus, or a carnival, or anything. I told Tall Order about it and he’d never heard of it. So, I went with him to see the mayor about it, right? Mayor Mare hadn’t heard anything about it either. Not a word!”
The branches above their heads shifted from oak, elm, and spruce to apple branches and more apple branches. The air smelled of fruit and fertilizer, and if Silver craned her neck, she could spot the Apples’ barn in the distance. Nopony in the fields, and no sign of activity in the orchard. Short workday, maybe?
It felt eerie without any Apples running around. Silver Spoon stayed close to Diamond’s shoulder. “I thought you needed a permit to set up in Ponyville.”
“Exactly! No way that wagon’s not selling something.” Righteous purpose flashed in Diamond’s eyes. “Daddy’s right—they are, like, so up to something crooked. Whoever they are.”
“We don’t know that for sure, Di. They might only be passing…” The end of Silver’s sentence trailed off as they passed out of Sweet Apple Acres. “…or maybe not.”
Lines of ponies stretched from the shallow hills down into the valley where a striped tent strung with flashing lights and a sales booth awaited them. A merry calliope chirped out a catchy tune, presumably to butter up the crowd and kill time.
Silver Spoon sized up the stallion at the end of the line, a skinny, thin-tailed fellow with his jaw wired shut. She wondered if he ought to be walking around like this. Many of the others ran the same: they bore eyepatches, bandages, slings, coughs, sniffles, and swollen hooves. She counted at least six with (hopefully non-contagious) illnesses. One poor mare struggled in a shabby wheelchair.
“Since when did Ponyville have this many messed-up ponies?” Diamond gave a wide berth to a mare with patchy fur. “Shouldn’t they be in a hospital and not, like… in public?”
A colt Silver had never seen before smiled at them with freakishly large, uneven teeth. He must have been from one of the new families in town. “Oh, we’ve got something way better than a hospital! Hospitals give shots and make you stay in bed for weeks, but the tonic fixes you up in no time.” The colt’s horrific smile widened. “I was on the waiting list for braces, but I won’t even need ‘em after this.”
Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon exchanged confused glances.
“My left eye hasn’t worked right since a plunder vine poked it,” said a mare with an eyepatch. She nodded towards the mangled and sick ponies around them. “The vines got a lot of us. Lingering chaos magic or somesuch, they say. Me, I see colors all wrong and when I blink I get headaches. Nurse Redheart told me to keep a poultice on it for four weeks, but the tonic can cut that time in half.”
Teeth and eyes? Those were two different things entirely, how could a tonic cure both? Silver Spoon adjusted her glasses, squinting through the bright sunlight to read the sign above the tent.
Disdain rumpled at the back of Diamond’s throat. “Pretty cheap miracle.” She jutted her head at Pinny Lane, a teenage unicorn in the picture of health. Not even a pimple. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Oh, I really don’t know yet. Might be nothing, but my bowling tournament’s this Saturday and I’m not taking any chances.” Pinny Lane’s blue ponytail flopped to the side as she leaned down. “What’s it to you, Diamond Tiara?”
Silver glanced between Pinny’s squint and Diamond’s souring frown. If ponies felt this convinced about the tonic, an abrasive approach wouldn’t get them far. “Easy, we’re not here to fight the audience,” she whispered.
“But they’re getting suckered!” Diamond shot back, barely whispering at all. When the colt with weird teeth glared at them, she stuck her nose in the air. “Well, you are.”
“At least hear this thing out first. We barely even know what it does or who—”
Silver paused. She’d noticed a stallion entering the tent, dragging crutches behind him. When he paused to adjust his raggedy fedora and overalls, she caught a clear look at his pale grey coat and dark grey mane. Not unlike the colors of a Silver.
Granted, the Silver family didn’t own a monopoly on grey coats—fairly common in Equestrian earth ponies—and if any relatives had come to town, they would’ve sent word ahead of time. It had to be a coincidence… but Silver’s gut didn’t feel so sure.
“…or who’s selling it,” she finished.
Diamond rolled her eyes and jabbed her hoof at a fine print list of curable ailments. “Anypony with half a brain can tell this tonic junk’s a bunch of horse apples. Curing hay fever, sure, but a broken hoof and Clydesdale fur blight? Come on!”
The line of waiting customers began to shift into a surrounding circle. Much to Diamond’s satisfaction, she’d won the crowd’s full attention. She pushed into showtime mode, lifting her head so her voice carried loud and clear. “Bottom line: this is a scam. You’ve been hoodwinked! Bamboozled! Taken for a ride by con artists!”
“Wha—con artists?!” A voice in the crowd gasped, full of shock and mock hurt. “Dear brother, did you hear what she called us?”
“Why, I most certainly did, brother! What an awful thing to say.”
From the thick of the crowd came a pair of unicorn twins—nearly identical, save for their cutie marks and the left stallion’s mustache. Their pale yellow coats ran over a lean, hungry build, and they wore handsome blue-and-white stripes to complement their red and white manes.
The mustached one dabbed his eye with a handkerchief and sniffed wetly. “And on our first day, too. Children are so cruel, Flim.”
“Oh, there, there. They don’t know any better, Flam.” The one called Flim patted his brother’s shoulder and tisked at Silver Spoon in a tone so belittling the filly fought back a snarl. He warmly smiled down at their icy little stares. “Why else would they accuse us of something so awful without any proof?”
Diamond lashed her tail with a snort. “Ponyfeathers.”
Silver took shelter behind Diamond Tiara and pointed out, “There’s no proof that it works, either.”
“It was good enough for Granny Smith,” said the mare in the wheelchair. “She bought four bottles this morning.”
“And it helped a stallion walk again!” cried the stallion with the eyepatch. “I saw it with my one good eye.”
“Then you obviously saw a trick.” Diamond pawed the dirt, never taking her eyes off Flim and Flam. “I know you guys. You’re pinned up on The List. You’re worse than just liars, you’re swindlers, and my daddy says there’s nothing worse than a swindler.”
The unicorns exchanged glances. Flam twirled his mustache thoughtfully. “Your daddy, little girl? Have we met him, Flim?”
“Ooh, I do think we have! Now, if I remember right, he’s the running president and CEO of that big place in town… Barnyard Bargains, is it? Fellow never did seem too keen on our humble products—”
“Because they didn’t work!” Diamond’s protest didn’t even break his flow.
“—so I suppose it’s only natural he’d get a little nervous about some competition.” Flim’s muzzle sagged with a frown, but the light in his eyes danced. “But I never thought he’d stoop so low as to sic his only daughter on us to do his dirty work.”
Diamond Tiara gaped, too incensed to speak.
Flam nodded sadly. “That’s corporate Equestria for you. Always stepping on the little guys.”
Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara drew closer. The tone of the crowd had shifted. Whatever good favor Di had drummed up before was crumbling at her hooves and Silver saw no quick way to fix it.
Darn it, Diamond. We shouldn’t have antagonized them. Playing the innocent, put-upon youngsters would’ve turned the crowd’s favor in a second. When all else failed, young ladies could always rely on tears. Even now, it might plausibly work. Silver’s eye flicked up to Flam’s phony sympathetic frown. But that would only play into their manipulated-silly-little-filly angle.
In the meantime, Silver laid a hoof on Diamond’s withers—the filly looked ready to tear off Flam’s mustache and force feed it to him—and tersely thanked both brothers for their concern.
Diamond caught on and continued, “Nopony put us up to this, sirs.” She spat the word like acid. “We’re perfectly capable of thinking for ourselves.”
Silver nodded sagely and yawned. “Even little fillies know when somepony’s pulling our legs.”
“And we also know that nopony sells a miracle for two bits a bottle. Nopony smart.”
Flim flicked up his straw hat and smiled. “Maybe not in the cold, cutthroat world of business tycoons and robber barons, little girl, but the Flim Flam Brothers believe in prices every pony can afford.”
“Ponies before profits!” crowed Flam. The crowd murmured its approval.
Diamond stamped her hoof. “But the hospital is free!”
“So is, you know, actual medicine.” Silver Spoon puffed her chest and took great effort not to snort.
Flim took the opportunity for a sales pitch. “Ah, but The Flim Flam Brothers’ Miracle Curative Tonic can do what the overworked, overtaxed hospitals can’t!”
“And from the comfort of your own home folks, that’s right, the comfort of your very own home! No nurses! No hospital food! Why, anypony can see the sensible choice, here.” Flam chuckled and levitated a green bottle in front of Silver Spoon’s nose. “Well, almost anypony. You know, some tonic could clear up your vision problems, young lady.”
Flim winked. “Think of it: no more glasses. The little colts will think you’re pretty.”
Silver flinched, one hoof guarding the designer frames upon her nose. Colts didn’t really think there was anything wrong with glasses, did they? No, of course not. …Probably not. She swept her tail over her cutie mark and frowned.
“Hm. Nice try, but everypony knows Silver Spoon’s already pretty.” Diamond tossed Silver a nod and brushed a bit of dust off the pinstriped vest. The sidewinder swish of her tail underscored the steel gleam in her eye. She clicked her tongue and wondered aloud, “What I can’t understand is why ‘honest salesponies’ would set up an illegal operation.”
“Illegal?” Pinny Lane looked to the eyepatched stallion on her left. “I don’t think I want to deal with anything illegal.”
“Me neither,” muttered several others.
“I happen to know for a fact that Ponyville law requires any and all traveling businesses to get a permit before they set up shop.” Diamond Tiara drew herself up to play her trump card. “And I also know that you don’t have one.”
The tent flap opened. The pale grey stallion—in a different outfit and a shaggy beard, but surely the same pony—crept out and hovered on the edge of the crowd. Silver Spoon kept her eye on him.
Flim hissed, pulling at his shirt collar. “Ooooh, the little tycoon’s got us there, brother. Or, she would, but you see—”
“Technically, we’re not in Ponyville,” continued Flam. “If you and your generous Mayor Mare care to take a closer look, you’ll find my honest brother and mine’s establishment lies—”
“Precisely two inches outside Ponyville’s border,” both unicorns said together.
The pale stallion’s face peeped over Flam’s shoulder and slipped something into his pocket. Silver Spoon caught a clear look at his face. She couldn’t see his eyes behind the thick glasses, but she’d know that crooked jawline anywhere.
Silver’s eyes grew wide. Cousin Silver Shill?
The stallion turned to her, flicking his ears. For a moment, it seemed as if he might approach or say something, but he didn’t. He averted his eyes and sank back into the anonymity of the crowd.
“Silver Spoon!” Diamond’s voice sliced through Silver’s trance. “Hey, wanna join us back in Equestria?”
“What? Oh, sorry.” Silver glanced around them. The Flim Flam Brothers had left. “Are we leaving?”
With a flourished sweep of her mane, Diamond Tiara marched away. “Yeah, but this isn’t over yet. I’m telling Dad and Tall Order and Mayor Mare about this; one of them has gotta know what to do about these rip-off artists.”
Somewhere past the thick of the apple trees, something splashed in the swimming hole. Apple Bloom’s hiccuping laughter echoed through the branches while Applejack yelled about something. Probably scolding Bloom for doing dumb stuff.
Silver strained her ears. She thought she could hear Granny Smith too, but couldn’t tell for certain. “Sounds like the Apples took the day off.”
“Yeah, it does.” Diamond watched flashes of sparkling water through the trees as if weighing the value of a confrontation.
One couldn’t blame her. The Flim Flam Brothers would have spun the situation no matter what Diamond said, but Granny Smith’s endorsement did no favors for Di’s argument. Still, time and place.
Silver Spoon cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t.”
Diamond Tiara flattened her ears. “I wasn’t; I’m just thinking, okay?” The silky threads of her tail swatted an errant fly. “Micromanaging, sheesh.”
Both fillies fell quiet for the rest of the walk. Now would be the worst time to admit to the paper fiasco. Silver didn’t think tomorrow boded any better. No need to stress Diamond out yet. It could wait until the weekend.
A few minutes after they’d reached town, Diamond broke the silence. “By the way, what was so interesting back there? You looked like you’d seen the Headless Horse.”
“Oh,” Silver said, “I… thought I saw somepony I knew hanging around the tent.”
“Hm. Doesn’t sound like anypony worth knowing if they hang around with scammers and cheats.”
“Yeah. Probably not.”
Silver Spoon lingered outside the parlor door, staring into the brushstrokes of Great Uncle Silver Chalice’s portrait.
In the long hall of silver, grey, and white, Chalice’s verdigris green coat and bronze mane stood out more than Silver Lining’s wings. Neither had passed down to Shill (he’d inherited his grandmother’s looks) but if Silver Spoon remembered right, he’d inherited Chalice’s blue eyes.
If she remembered right.
This would be so much easier if we still had one of the old photo albums. Technically they did, but Silver would need the key to the attic for that, and she didn’t fancy explaining why she needed it.
The last time Silver saw Shill, he’d worn a plaid bow tie and sweater vest at Granddad’s Hearth’s Warming party. He’d joined Silver Spoon at the foals’ table and sung carols, because she’d had no foals her age to sit with. Soft spoken in crowds, but a clown behind closed doors, he’d been a master of snowball fights and bubble blowing. He’d given Silver Spoon The Clandestine Commons that year and possibly loved the book even more than she did.
How could such an upstanding scion of the Silver clan have gone so wrong? What in Equestria had he done?
In the drawing room across the hall, Sweetie Belle practiced her scales in D-major. Break time would be over soon.
While Mother arranged the music sheets, Silver quietly slipped back in the room. She hopped on the harpsichord bench and listened to Sweetie’s scales while mulling her options.
She had to see the stallion alone to know for certain. She had to confront him. But how? Diamond Tiara wouldn’t let Silver wander off without asking questions, and Silver still didn’t want to answer those questions. She could double back after they’d both gone home, but that would almost certainly break curfew.
That left one option. “Mother? Would it be alright if I finished a little early today?”
Mother didn’t turn away from the music sheets. “Tempo, Miss Sweetie Belle! We are not practicing dirges. And Silver Spoon, you know better than to wait until the last minute to ask something like that. Young ladies are punctual with their scheduling.”
“Well, it’s not exactly a scheduled event, ma’am. I didn’t think of it until now.” For good measure, Silver began practicing scales of her own, matching Sweetie’s key and tempo. “I, um… thought I saw a Silver in town yesterday. I don’t know how long they’ll be here, and I wanted to say hello.”
“Here in town, you say?” Mother selected the sheets for today’s lesson and placed them in her daughter’s and Sweetie Belle’s stands. The metronome clicked to life with a nudge of her nose. The flicking of her ears followed the steady rhythm. “Odd. Silver Lining’s the only one who’d drop in unannounced, but I think The Wonderbolts are still at Rainbow Falls. Who was it that you saw?”
The practiced scales shifted into D-minor, a dissonant match for Silver’s light and casual tone. “Oh, just Cousin Silver Shill.”
A small pause. Slowly, Mother turned to regard her. As if correcting a grammatical error, she smiled and said, “My love, don’t be silly. You don’t have a Cousin Silver Shill.”
“…Right. Sorry, my mistake.”
“That’s quite alright, Silver Spoon. Everypony makes them.” Mother considered the music assignments and clicked her tongue in thought. “However, I don’t see the harm in leaving a little early today—that is, if Miss Sweetie Belle doesn’t mind?”
Sweetie Belle grinned at them both. “No, ma’am! It’s totally fine with me.”
“Alright then. We’ll end in twenty minutes. After that…” One green eye glanced back at Silver Spoon. “Whatever you decide to do and whomever you decide to see is your own business.” Mother clapped her hooves to clear the air. “Alright, then! Let us begin again with Star Song’s Lunar Abdication.”
Diamond Tiara sat back on the sports stand, idly watching a swimmer climb the diving board ladder. “…so Tall Order said keeping an eye on them is still a good idea, even if they’re clean on a technicality.”
The Annual Ponyville Swim Meet attracted double the crowds this year. Sources said Granny Smith’s surprise entry—breaking a sixty-year sabbatical from aquatics—had something to do with it. The aquapony performance acting as key endorsement for Miracle Curative Tonic didn’t hurt either.
Silver laid her head on her hooves, watching Flim work the crowd from a miniature sales stand (technically too small for an “establishment” and therefore under peddler laws, not sales laws). No sign of the pale grey stallion yet. Maybe he’d stayed behind after all, or gone into town.
Diamond gave Silver’s withers a pat. “Good call checking up on them early, Silver Spoon.”
“Thanks.”
Even with her head start, Silver had arrived to Flim and Flam’s tent only to find the place empty. Combing the backstage area for clues, she’d discovered nothing useful: an unmarked trunk full of costumes and a locket with a pretty unicorn’s picture inside.
Diamond’s eyes followed Apple Bloom trotting outside the stands. “I mentioned the tonic to Dad when he came home last night, but he says that sometimes we just need to let ponies make their own decisions and mistakes.” She raised her voice loud enough to carry. “Like, it’s so obvious the tonic’s a big fat scam, but I suppose some ponies need to learn the hard way.”
Painfully obvious bait. Silver Spoon rolled her eyes as Apple Bloom stopped in her tracks and glared at them. So of course she snaps it up like a trout.
“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Diamond Tiara!” Apple Bloom got on her hind hooves and clung to the edge of the stands. “The miracle tonic works right as rain; I seen it with my own two eyes. Three times!”
Six seats up in the stands, Diamond didn’t even have to sit up for a height advantage. She lazily rolled her head back and smirked. “Ha. More like you got suckered three times, sucker. That junk doesn’t even have a patent. I’ll bet you don’t even know how it works, right?”
Bloom hesitated. “Well, not exact—”
“Thought so.” Diamond reached back for a hoofbump.
Silver Spoon returned it, but she focused on something else. A pale grey pony in a striped shirt weaved through Rows C and D. When Silver sat up for a better view, he stiffened and shuffled away.
“Yeah, well, you’ll see! Applejack says it works, an’ that’s the only thing that matters and you’re gonna see the proof for yourself pretty soon. Granny Smith an’ me are gonna win this here swimmin’ competition with flyin’ colors!” Without waiting for a response, Apple Bloom turned tail on them to join her grandmother.
Curious whispers murmured in the stands. The spat with Apple Bloom had attracted a gathering of foals, including a certain unicorn Silver pretended not to notice.
Diamond stretched out, arching her back like a cat. Not addressing anypony in particular, she looked back and said, “Well, I tried. If somepony’s so determined to get conned, you can’t really stop them. You can’t shortcut success; that takes hard work and skill.” She fluffed her mane with a little sigh. “Though for me, it’s mostly skill.”
Rumble side-eyed Cotton Cloudy, who shrugged.
Berry Pinch curled next to Tornado Bolt, the tip of her pink tail lashing the air. Her expression could have given Silver Spoon frostbite. “Yeah? And what skill is that? Being a stupid show-off know-it-all?”
Silver, meanwhile, decided that now might be an optimal time to track down the mystery stallion. She gently excused herself and crept down the stairs, determined not to look back as Pinch’s voice followed her.
“And by the way, Diamond Tiara, you oughta know that it’s always the ponies who don’t think they can get conned who are always the suckers.” It sounded nothing like Pinch’s normal ribbing: not teasing, not annoyed, just mad.
A beat of silence, broken only by a splash of water and the audience’s applause. Diamond spoke again. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”
Silver walked faster and ducked behind the stands. The musty, sweet scent of dust and centuries-old bubble gum wrinkled her nose. Was running really the best option here? Left alone, heavens knew what havoc a filly in Berry Pinch’s state could wreak. Pinch didn’t seem the type to air dirty laundry in front of crowds, but angry fillies did foolish things.
However, she also had no way of defusing the situation without potentially worsening it. Could be better to stay out of range…discretion, the better part of valor, and stuff. Hm.
A new set of hooves rustling in the grass solved the dilemma for her.
The pale grey stallion and Silver Spoon stared at each other. Thick glasses or not, up close there could be no doubt of it. Here stood Silver Shill.
Slowly, he put down the tray of tonic bottles hanging around his neck. The way he twitched and fidgeted, it almost felt as if he were the foal and Silver Spoon the grown, elder cousin. “Uh. H-hiya, Silver Spoon."
“Hello.” Because she couldn’t think of anything else to say, Silver Spoon asked, “Since when do you need glasses?”
“Oh, um… I actually don’t.” The quaver in Shill’s voice sounded nothing like a proper Silver. It sounded… small. Pathetic. Ruined.
He tucked the glasses into his front pocket and blinked at her with Silver Chalice’s clear blue eyes. “These are just for…” Shill blinked rapidly and examined a mustard stain on the wall. “…for work.”
“Oh. Okay. Are the disguises for work too, or are you trying to hide from somepony?” What sort of “work” had he been in before this job, anyway? Silver Spoon’s eyes widened at the possibilities. “Are you on the run from the mob? Were you in the mob? Did… did you hurt anypony?”
“What?! No, I—of course not!” Silver Shill frowned. “Why? Is that what they’ve been saying about me?”
Silver Spoon walked closer to him, her ears drooping a little bit. “No. I mean… nopony’s said anything about you. At all.” She paused. How was she supposed to address him now? “Is Silver Shill even your name anymore?”
“Of course it is. My name is mine, and I’ll be gosh darned if anyone can stop me from using it.” His hooves flew to his muzzle, remembering present company. “Pardon my potty mouth; life on the road will do that to a pony. I’m sorry, I’ll start over: Good afternoon, Miss Silver Spoon. You look well.”
She obliged him with a curtsey. “Good afternoon, Mr. Silver Shill. You look… like a referee.”
Silver Shill laughed at that. “Well, can’t argue with you, there.” Finally, he resembled the cousin Silver remembered. “Gosh, you’re so big now—and with a cutie mark! Is it already engraved in the tree?”
“Yeah, at my cuteceañera last year, and I had my portrait painted. It’s a teaspoon for tea parties, see?”
“Congratulations. I bet Cousin Laurel’s really proud of you.” Silver Shill patted her withers, but a perplexed expression crossed his face. “By the way, Spooners, what are you doing in a place like Ponyville? Is Pitch Perfect touring or… no, that can’t be it. She’s retired, right?”
“Mm-hm. She gives voice lessons in town. I—that is, we—live here now. The spring before Luna came back, we had to move because…” Silver Spoon pawed at the grass and felt the tips of her ears flush. “Well… you know.”
Shill curled on his knees to meet her at eye level. He tilted his head and spoke very gently. “No, Silver Spoon, I don’t. What happened?”
“Fath…” The flush spread from her ears to her cheeks. Silver’s throat clenched around the words. She’d never actually said them out loud before. “Father made a… mistake, and trusted some ponies he shouldn’t have. We lost, like, half the fortune and couldn’t live in Manehattan anymore. I think it might’ve been even worse if Granddad hadn’t stepped in.”
Above their heads, the crowd stomped and cheered a dive. Silver Shill glanced up, concerned, one ear tilted towards his former cousin. He appeared a bit conflicted, but shook it off a moment later. “Stepped in how?”
Silver Spoon rubbed her shoulder and shrugged. “I don’t know the details. I didn’t even know it was happening when it happened. But I do remember Granddad Silver Tongue and a herd of lawyers from his firm coming to our penthouse in the middle of the night. They stayed in Manehattan until winter got wrapped up.”
She remembered that time well. Brass Tacks and the serving staff wouldn’t stop fussing over her and became notably paranoid about strangers hovering near their residence. The entire family would be absent for days—sometimes weeks—and nopony would explain what was happening.
“You really didn’t hear about it? I thought it’d be in all the papers.” The Manehattan Post and Stall Street Journal stopped coming to the Silvers’ penthouse for months.
Silver Shill shook his head. “None that I saw, and I check the society pages whenever I can. That’s how I knew Pitch Perfect retired.” He rubbed his uneven jawline thoughtfully. “I’m not surprised, though. Silver Tongue has a lot of influence.”
It clicked. He kept us out of the national papers. In fact, official word likely never left Manehattan at all. That couldn’t stop rumors—especially not in Canterlot and not with the move—but still.
Silver Spoon decided to focus on brighter things. “Father works for the Canterlot antiquities museum now, but at the moment he’s helping Aunt Silver Frames curate her new modern art gallery. He’s also driving her crazy, because she says he’s got no appreciation for truly modern art.” She made a face. “I don’t blame him. I didn’t like Coltlock’s stuff, but at least I got it. But what’s there to get about some mare’s messy bed? Literally, it’s just a messy bed in a gallery.”
However, Shill wasn’t in the mood to discuss Coltlock, messy beds, or the artistic merit thereof. “So, Laurel’s working in Canterlot. Hm. I’ll bet he’s staying in the Manor, then.” He clicked his tongue and laughed a humorless laugh. “Loses half the fortune and still gets to sleep in Silver Manor. Boy, I tell you.”
Indeed, the situation did strike Silver Spoon as a bit strange. Granddad certainly hadn’t been pleased with Father at all, but never hesitated to help him. Nopony spoke Father’s name in hushed whispers; if anything, they became too sympathetic.
Another cheer from the stands. Silver Shill stood up, put the thick glasses back on, and looped the case of tonic bottles around his neck. “Listen, Spooners, I gotta get back to work, but my break’s coming up soon. You can wait a little, if you want.” He fished out a baseball cap covered in ugly pins and fit it snugly on his head. “It’s okay if you don’t want to; I bet your friend’s waiting for you. The pink one with the tiara?”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind waiting.” Silver Spoon’s eyes trailed up to the stands. Celestia-knew-what the foals were saying about her, and she didn't feel keen to find out. Besides, she didn’t feel up to crafting an excuse for why she’d left, and might not be able to slip away again.
She lurked by the side of the stands to watch the Apples’ swim meet performance. Their synchronized swimming routine was actually pretty impressive, especially considering Bloom normally had the grace of a potato. Why couldn’t she be that graceful everywhere else?
Way out on the sidelines, she spotted Shill talking with Applejack. The crowd stirred into a mild tizzy. Something else seemed to be going on, something big. Whatever happened must have shaken poor Silver Shill badly, because he returned looking pensive.
“Hi again, Silver Spoon.”
“Hello.”
A question burned the tip of Silver Spoon’s tongue. A question Shill surely didn’t want to answer in his current mood. Even under the best circumstances, it’d still be highly inappropriate to approach the subject with an elder Silver at all.
On the other hoof, he technically wasn’t a Silver at all anymore, so…
“Silver Shill?”
“Yes?”
“What did you do to make Great Uncle Chalice so angry with you?” In ten years, she’d never seen so much as a scowl from the chuckling old wizard. Silver Spoon accidentally broke his favorite potion bowl once, and he’d just laughed it off, happy for an excuse to get a new one. “I mean, what mistake could ever be that b—?”
“It was not a mistake, Silver Spoon.” The tremble in Shill’s voice completely vanished. He sat so fast, the tonic bottles clinked like a xylophone. “You really wanna know what I did?” He pulled back his shirt collar to reveal a thin gold band around his neck. “I got married.”
Silver Spoon blinked at the paintbrush engraved on the necklace, up at Shill, then back at the necklace. She raised an eyebrow, frowning. “To who? Discord?”
The shirt collar snapped back into place. “Worse. The unicorn who painted our house.”
“Oh.” The mare in the locket. “Was it because she’s a house painter or because she’s a unicorn?”
“Both. I don’t think he would have liked Fresh Coat either way, but if she didn’t have a horn, we might still be in the Hearth’s Warming cards.” Silver Shill rolled his eyes with a grin. A genuine grin. “It’s his loss. Let him be mad.”
Silver Spoon opened her mouth, and then closed it.
She struggled to comprehend how Uncle Chalice could disown his son on such grounds, but it also sounded like one of those things she’d understand when she got older. But that part, though confusing and disappointing, was easy. A struggle, yes, but she could still comprehend it.
But how? How, in the precious name of Luna’s twinkling sky, could Silver Shill—the only scion of the grandest living master of earth pony magic since the Sixth Celestial Era, heir to a dynasty centuries old, only to fall broke and peddling tonic for a living—actually smile about it?
“But…” she said in a small voice, “why not just do what Uncle Chalice wanted? He wants what’s best for you, doesn’t he?”
Shill sighed, scratching the ring of sweat forming under his hat. “Spooners, older ponies know more, but it doesn’t always make them right. He wanted what was best for the family, not for me. Two very different things.”
Silver Spoon frowned. “That sounds really selfish, Silver Shill.”
“Maybe,” he said, “but it’s honest. If I’d have done anything besides what I knew was right, well—gosh, that’d be just like lying, wouldn’t it?”
That stupid, oily feeling wriggled under Silver’s coat again. She tried to ignore it.
“Is that really so bad, though? Like, what about lying for the greater good? What about when ponies don’t want to believe the truth?” Silver Spoon peered at her former cousin’s cargo, watching her reflection skim over the green glass. “Like, this tonic stuff can’t work the way Flim and Flam say, but you don’t seem to mind letting ponies believe that it does.”
Silver Shill fished a shiny new bit out of his pocket. He stared at it, and didn’t respond.
Maybe that had been a cheap shot. Poor Shill probably didn’t have a lot of business prospects, and a stallion had to take what bits he could find. Still, the point remained.
“Being totally honest got you kicked into the streets. The truth hurt you, Shill. It hurt ponies around you, and if…” Silver Spoon curled in on herself and glanced back at the stands. Her voice shrank. “…if everypony’s happier not knowing the truth, it can’t be that bad.”
Out of sight but well within hearing range, Flim crowed the miraculous benefits of his tonic. The audience rumbled and murmured. Cameras snapped and hooves applauded. Flam wound up for a backup spiel, but stopped short at some sort of protest from Applejack.
Silver Shill followed the commotion to the poolside. He scowled. “Even if they are, that still doesn’t make it right, Silver Spoon.” Blue eyes glared over the rims of his thick, useless glasses. “Especially when it ends up hurting somepony else. Do you understand?”
“I think so.” That didn’t mean Silver liked it. She trotted ahead of Shill to see the crowd surrounding the Apples while Applejack spoke to her little sister.
“…takes a little extra confidence to remember that it was inside of you all along.” Nice mare and all, but wow, Applejack got schmaltzy sometimes. She hugged Granny Smith and turned on the unicorn twins. “But tellin' ponies your tonic can do things it can't is just wrong!”
Silver Spoon stared up, watching Silver Shill prick his ears. She wondered why he looked so serious, but now didn’t seem the time to ask.
Not missing a beat, Flim took the opening and flipped it. “But you just said it boosts confidence!”
Silver Shill flattened his ears. “Cousin Spoon, there’s something I gotta do. Give my best to Laurel, alright?”
“Okay, Cousin Shill.”
They nuzzled and parted ways. On her way back up the stairs, Silver Spoon heard Shill cut off Flam in mid-spiel. She glanced back at him a moment, then returned to her old seat.
In the meantime, Diamond Tiara had assembled herself a healthy-sized crowd of her own, including a couple of adults. Half kept their eyes on the little filly with the steel tiara while the other half watched the goings-on below. Silver Spoon slipped in beside her as if she’d been there the whole time.
Rumble shrugged his wings. “Huh. Guess you were right about those dudes after all, Diamond. Sorry we didn’t really believe you.”
Diamond offered her audience a brief, but gracious nod. “Apology accepted.”
“She did say that she spent all summer learning surfing and acrobatics.” One of the new kids hopped down the stands, trying to see over Silver Spoon’s shoulder. The filly sported a blackberry cutie mark and long purple pigtails, and knew to back off when she breathed too hard on Silver’s neck. “Guess she’d know about what works and what doesn’t when it comes to being good at stuff.”
Silver Spoon scooted closer and slung a hoof over her friend’s withers. “Naturally. Di’s won dozens and dozens of trophies. I’ve seen them myself.”
“Can you show us some of your cool acrobatic skills sometime?” asked the colt with bad teeth.
For a split second, Diamond frowned. She flicked her tail and played it off as thinking it over. “I’ll try and fit it into my schedule. Oh, but you’ll have to excuse me. I’ve got lots of important work to do in Town Hall tomorrow—you understand.” With Silver in tow, Diamond rose and trotted down the stairs for a victory lap around the stands.
Apple Bloom sat on the edge of the pool, cooling her hooves in the water. She angled her head back, warily watching Diamond pass.
“See you around, Apple Bloom.” Diamond’s tone radiated I-Told-You-Sos. She winked. “Glad everything worked out.”
At the sound of Di’s voice, Silver Shill—who’d abandoned the glasses entirely—looked up from across the pool, smiling. “Headed home already, Silver Spoon?”
Silver Spoon waved back. “Yeah, Diamond Tiara’s got an early day tomorrow. Bye, Silver Shill. I’ll tell Father you’re doing okay.”
“Bye, Spooners! I’ll try and write you after I get home.” Shill pulled out a bit and rushed to flag down Neon Lights. “Sir? Sir! I’ve got something to give you.”
Diamond Tiara's eyes traveled between the two grey ponies curiously. A lantern flicked on in her head. “That’s where you ran off to! You know, you could say something to ponies before disappearing like that.”
The two of them took a shortcut through Golden Harvest’s carrot farm on their way back into town. Before long, the busy chatter and background music of the swim meet faded into birdsong and rustling leaves.
“Sorry, but you were busy. I didn’t want to interrupt.” Silver Spoon waved at the carrot farmer as they passed, and took care not to tread on any carrots.
“So is that Silver Shill guy a relative, or…?” The sentence trailed off, dragging another unasked question behind it: Why didn’t you say anything?
At least both questions had an easy answer. Still not comfortable, but easy. “He used to be my cousin.” Silver Spoon bunched her shoulders. “Not anymore, though.”
Dread slowly crept across her face as it registered. “Oh. I… didn’t know you could do that to blood relatives.” Diamond Tiara’s light trot slowed to a walk. “Is he, like, just not invited to weddings or is he gone gone?”
Not sure of the difference, Silver shrugged. “It’s awful, Di. After it happened, it almost felt like Silver Shill died, but… worse. At least ponies get funerals when they die. Dead ponies have their pictures saved, not thrown away.”
“Yeah. Once the pictures come down, there’s no going back.” Grass and dead leaves tangled in Diamond’s tail as it dragged behind her. “It’s like that pony doesn’t exist anymore. Like they never existed at all.” She swept her tail close. “What happened to your cousin? Did he do something?”
In the sleepy, late afternoon, Ponyville’s main road didn’t feel quite real. Except for a few scattered pegasi in the clouds and Mr. Breezy napping on a bench, the main square lay empty and abandoned. The morning and lunch rushes died hours ago, and the nightlife wouldn’t pick up until the streetlights came on.
“My great uncle really didn’t like the mare Shill decided to marry.” Silver Spoon looked back, wondering what would become of Shill now that he’d assuredly lost his job. Honesty might satisfy his conscience, but not his stomach. “I hope he’ll be okay.”
Diamond clicked her tongue sympathetically. “No kidding. He must have had it really bad if he started hanging out with stallions like them.” Her nose wrinkled at the thought. “I’ll bet your cousin knows better now: never associate with lowlifes. They’ll only drag you down into the tar pits with them, and I’d know.” She punctuated it with a crisp nod.
Lowlifes? In Ponyville, of all places? Tasting gossip in the air, Silver pressed closer. “Really? How?”
“Well, this might sound kind of weird…” Diamond fidgeted with her mane, watching a pegasus land on a patch of cumulus. “…but a long time ago, Berry Pinch used to be my best friend. I mean, we were still friends afterwards, but she used to be my best one.”
Were. Silver swallowed a growing lump in her throat. “What happened?”
“Nothing ‘happened’, exactly. We more… ended up going in different directions, that’s all. A few months after Dad got married again, Spoiled told me not to hang out with Berry Pinch so much, because it matters who a pony’s seen with.”
“Oh. I suppose that makes sense. A-and—” Silver Spoon cleared her throat to shake the rattle from her voice. “And that’s all?”
After a moment of consideration, Diamond added, “She also called Pinch a ‘lowlife type’.” She watched a line of ants weave around her hoof to reach a melted popsicle. “And you know, for a really long time I thought Mother wasn’t being fair about that. Berry Pinch might not have a lot of money, and her house needs to be repaired all the time, and her daddy’s in—well, he’s not around—but that stuff’s not Pinch’s fault. She can’t help that.”
A block ahead, music and laughter rumbled behind Berryshine’s glowing windows. Minuette’s cackles curled out of the door and echoed down the street. Happy Hour must have started. Silver couldn’t help but notice that none of the upstairs lights had come on yet.
Diamond Tiara snorted at the place and moved to the opposite side of the road. “But she can sure help being a mean, jealous jerk.” At Silver’s confused glance, Diamond shook her head with disgust. “Berry Pinch told the meanest lie about you this morning, Silver Spoon.”