Chapter Eight
Eggs on Toothpicks
The group passed through an enormous wall comprised of tall, side-by-side arches topped with shorter arches. It stretched perpendicular to a small valley within the city, and height changes in the base arches kept the top of the structure perfectly level, unaffected by the natural slopes below. Dinky eyed its gigantic bricks, some of them larger than her entire body, as Zoccolo led the cart through the centermost arch.
“Who built this thing?” Scootaloo asked, bending her head back to keep an eye on the archways.
“It is-a very old,” Zoccolo said, “as is all of Maredrid. A beautiful city, no?”
“What is it?” Apple Bloom cocked an eyebrow. “Not much of a wall with all these holes.”
Zoccolo laughed. “Very true! No, that is a, uhh… how do you say… acquedotto?”
“Aqueduct?” said Sweetie Belle.
“Sì! Brava ragazza.” Zoccolo smiled. “The aqueduct brings water from the mountains. Ponies do amazing things!”
They entered a wide road beyond the arches; as they walked deeper into the city, the Cutie Mark Crusaders noticed how unique the wide road was. Most offshoots were extremely narrow. It reminded Dinky of Canterlot, where she had been only once.
“The train to Pelola leaves in some hours,” Zoccolo said. “We are all hungry, no? I will-a buy you a good-a meal for your kindness to helping my sweet Nipota.”
“Thanks, Mister Zoccolo!” Sweetie Belle chirped. “That’s nice of you. I’m starving!”
“Is Caballish food any good?” asked Scootaloo with a grimace.
“Buonissimo!” Zoccolo lifted a hoof and pressed it into his cheek. “It is-a very good-a food. Not as good as Itailian food, of course, but-a very good!” He gasped and pointed down an adjacent street. “Guarda! A market! Let’s-a see what they are selling, no? If nothing pleases you, we go to a lovely ristorante!”
Down the street, in a large clearing between buildings, dozens of small booths were set up in snaking rows. Vendors of all shapes, sizes, and colors smiled and shouted at passing ponies, displaying their various wares. As Zoccolo carried the fillies closer, they saw that while several of the booths were selling fruits, rice dishes, chilled soups, and potatoes, others were selling things like scarves, umbrellas, knick-knacks, and jewelry. The marketplace was positively buzzing with activity, though nopony seemed to be in a hurry.
“This is so cool!” Sweetie Belle said. “Is this what markets look like in big cities? I’ve never seen one anywhere but Ponyville, and it’s never like this.”
“That’s ‘cause the same ponies come by every day,” Apple Bloom added. “Is this market always here?”
“I doubt so!” Zoccolo said. He had to raise his voice as the noise of the market engulfed them. “In Itaily, at least, markets like-a this are set up one or two time each month!”
“I don’t like it.” Scootaloo frowned and leaned over the edge of the cart as they passed a stand selling plates of yellow rice. “Don’t they have, like, peanuts or something?”
A foreign voice suddenly cut through the rest, yelling something at Zoccolo. The stallion turned to see a short mare dressed in a fitted blue vest and a blue cap yelling at him in Caballish.
“What is she saying?” Sweetie Belle asked nervously.
“Claro, claro,” Zoccolo said over and over again. “Lo siento. Sí, sí, claro, gracias.” He nodded several times, backing away slowly.
“Hey, what gives?” Scootaloo shouted. “Are we getting food or not?”
“The gentle officer here does not-a want my cart in the market,” Zoccolo said over his shoulder, smiling calmly. “There is no problem. We go on hoof now, little friends.” He backed out of the marketplace, careful not to run into any stands or perusers, and unhitched himself from the cart near a chain that hung around the perimeter of the square. “All is well! Let’s-a find you some food, friend of Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle.”
Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “My name is Scootaloo. Bet that doesn’t translate easy, does it?”
Zoccolo chuckled. “Indeed-a not. Adesso andiamo! Stay close to me, ragazzine.”
Leaving the cart behind, the fillies followed Zoccolo into the crowds of the bustling market. From their lower vantage point, the booths were suddenly hard to see past legs and manes and bodies, and the fillies put most of their attention into staying behind their guide. Zoccolo marched swiftly onward toward the opposite end of the square.
From an adjacent row of merchants, a gaggle of four or five very young fillies ― close in age to the Crusaders ― shuffled pathetically through the crowd. Though Dinky couldn’t understand their mumbled words, their dirty demeanors and desperate faces struck a chord within her.
“What are they doing?” she asked Sweetie Belle loudly.
Sweetie winced at the colts and fillies. “Ehh… begging for food, I think.”
“Hurry up, girls!” called Apple Bloom. “You wanna eat or not?”
Sweetie touched Dinky’s shoulder. “Come on, Dinky, let’s go!”
Dinky’s sad eyes watched the young ponies get shooed away by patron after patron. None of the adults even looked down or listened to their plight.
“Come on!” Sweetie Belle tugged Dinky away from the scene.
When they caught up with Zoccolo, he had stopped at a large stand selling what looked liked thick yellow pancakes. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom were on their hind legs, leaned against a pane of glass to stare at the various available food.
“What’re you gonna get?” Apple Bloom asked.
“Psh, I don’t know! I’ve never had Caballish stuff before. I’m picky!” Scootaloo’s brow furrowed.
“It is-a very good, this,” Zoccolo said, purchasing one tall yellow cake from a mare behind the food. “Eggs, potatoes, onions. That’s it-a!”
“Sounds real good, actually,” Apple Bloom mumbled. “I’ll have one.”
“Buon appetito,” Zoccolo said, offering her the plate he’d just purchased.
Apple Bloom blinked. “Really? Oh… thank you.” She sat on her haunches and took the plate in both hooves, nibbling at one edge of the circle. “Mmmm… that is good!”
“Okay, fine, gimme one!” Scootaloo threw her forehooves in the air.
Zoccolo laughed and he gave the vendor a few more silver coins.
“Ooo! Stirros!” Sweetie Belle said, watching the coins exchange hooves. “Can I see one?”
“What are stirros?” asked Dinky.
“They’re like… the bits of Stirrope!”
Zoccolo pulled one coin from his sidebag and tossed it to Sweetie Belle with a grin. “Keep it!” he said.
Sweetie Belle beamed and examined the coin with interest. “Wooow… it’s so cool!”
A low voice spoke behind them all with a mild Caballish accent. “Leave it to an Equestrian to throw his money away to children,” it said in a snobbish tone.
Zoccolo and the four fillies turned around. There stood a handsome stallion in a suit. His otherwise perfect mane was frizzing at his hairline due to a line of sweat building in the heat. He regarded Sweetie Belle with disgust before eyeing Zoccolo with half-closed eyelids.
Zoccolo blinked once and managed a tight smile. “If you must-a know, good sir,” he said, bowing slightly, “I am not Equestrian, but come from the beautiful land of Icodalia.”
“Hrm. Then I am even more surprised at you.” The stallion squinted. “A fellow Stirropean should know to treat his money with care. We do not live in the land of the Blessed Sun, you and I. These children ―” He waved his hoof at them as though they were flies. “― have known nothing but plenty and luxury. They do not deserve our coin.”
“You speak Equestrian well, good sir,” Zoccolo said, taking a step forward. “And this suit! Stupendo!” He brushed the stallion’s shoulder with a lean, grey hoof. “You must-a be some businesspony, no?”
“Indeed.” The stallion backed away from Zoccolo and adjusted his open collar. “And I have learned where not to put my money.” With a lasting sneer, the stallion trotted away.
“Jeez.” Scootaloo watched until the stallion had vanished in the crowd. “What’s his problem?”
“The market draws to it all types!” Zoccolo said with an exaggerated shrug. “Ha! Now, who else wants a tortilla caballana?”
In few minutes, they all left the stand with an egg-potato-onion cake, happily gobbling their respective meals.
“All right, fine, you were right,” Scootaloo said, finally smiling. “This thing is dang good.”
“One of-a my favorites,” Zoccolo said. “Now, to the train sta―ooooh!” Zoccolo dove to one side, perusing a well-shaded stand with eyes that sparkled like a foal’s in a candy store. “How very interesting!”
“What?” asked Sweetie Belle, weaving through some passing ponies with Dinky. “What’s interesting?”
“This is-a my kind of store!” He glanced over his shoulder with a grin. “That is the saying, yes?”
Apple Bloom and Scootaloo gazed at its wares skeptically. Several elaborate rugs were most noticeable along the back wall. On top of several small tables and wooden stools in the tent-like booth were dozens or maybe hundreds of small items: decorations, mostly, like paperweights, collectibles, and candlesticks.
“Uhhh… okay?” said Apple Bloom. She turned to Scootaloo with one raised eyebrow. “Does this guy ever stop gettin’ weirder?”
“Whooaaa…” A devilish smile stretched across Scootaloo’s face.
Surprised, Apple Bloom followed her gaze. Zoccolo was conversing with a hooded merchant in the booth. He dipped into his sidebag and produced a round, glass bird that he flashed before the merchant with finesse.
“No way…” Apple Bloom’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. “That’s the glass bird from that hotel back by the beach.”
“He’s a thief…” breathed Scootaloo, smiling.
“He’s a thief!” Apple Bloom shouted. She lurched forward and punched Zoccolo as hard as she could in the crescent Moon Cutie Mark. “Ye’r a thief, ya no good lyin’ rascal!”
Zoccolo’s clear, peach-colored eyes turned to the filly assaulting his rear. His expression was more intrigued that irritated. “Excuse me?”
“You stole that bird!” Apple Bloom shouted angrily, glaring daggers at the object in Zoccolo’s hoof. “Didja think I wouldn’t notice? You even pointed it out in the hotel, ya mongrel!”
He chuckled. “I pointed out the bird in the hotel because I own-a this one.” He shook the bird like a rattle. “How do you think I knew where it-a came from?”
Apple Bloom stopped punching, but her face remained just as sour. “Tell the truth, Zoccolo. Are you a thief or not?”
The stallion smirked. “I am not a thief. I am a peacemaker.” He turned back to the merchant and continued his deal.
Apple Bloom growled and stormed out of the small stand. Sweetie Belle and Dinky came to her side.
“Do you really think he stole it?” squeaked Sweetie Belle.
“Definitely,” Apple Bloom said with a firm nod. “He’s a crook, and we trusted him. I knew we should’t’ve trusted him!”
“Maybe he’s telling the truth?” Dinky suggested meekly.
“I mean, maybe, yeah.” Apple Bloom sighed heavily. “But I’m tellin’ y’all, I had a bad feelin’ about this from the start, and this bird business ain’t makin’ me feel any better, I tell you what.”
Zoccolo joined them with a stack of silver coins in his hoof. “Ready to go?” he asked nonchalantly. Scootaloo stood at his side, staring up at his face with shining eyes.
“You ready to tell the truth?” Apple Bloom narrowed her eyes. “Did you steal that bird from the hotel?”
“No.” Zoccolo smiled calmly. “The train station is-a this way. Follow me!”
He trotted back into the throngs with Scootaloo hot on his tail. The other three looked at each other before Apple Bloom joined the chain.
“This is ridiculous…” Apple Bloom muttered. She glanced at her hooves, looked up ahead, and sprinted to catch up with Zoccolo in the lead.
Sweetie Belle yelped at her sudden speed and ushered little Dinky along.
Apple Bloom caught up with Zoccolo and immediately burst. “I don’t think you understand the level of my concern here. You haven’t struck me as particularly honest since we metcha, and believe me, I know a thing’r two about honesty. So fer the safety o’ my friends and the babies we’re after, lemme just ask ya one more time: have you stolen anything?”
Zoccolo looked down his snout at her. Though his face was momentarily serious, a familiar smile soon brushed over his dark grey features. “Yes,” he finally said.
Apple Bloom thrust up an accusatory hoof. “Ah ha! I knew it! That’s it, Mister Liar, deal’s off. We’ll find our own way to Haissian, thanks very much.”
“I took-a the money purse of that stronzo businesspony,” Zoccolo continued, pulling a small, shiny, jet-black purse out of his sidebag.
“Whoa!” Scootaloo yelled. Her wings buzzed quickly enough to draw out her excited hop. “That is so awesome!”
“It ain’t awesome, Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom yelled incredulously. “We’ve been travelin’ with a grade-A criminal!”
“Eh, grazie.” Zoccolo shook out his violet mane.
“Urrrgh!” Apple Bloom smacked her own forehead. “We gotta get outta here, girls.”
Sweetie Belle convulsed. “But… but what about Nipota?”
“Yes, Fiore di Mela, what about my sweet Nipota?” Zoccolo’s bottom lip stuck out. “You wouldn’t hurt a sick child because of her uncle’s alternative philanthropy, would you?”
“Altern-what what?” Apple Bloom reeled.
“Alternative philanthropy,” Sweetie Belle repeated thoughtfully. “What do you mean?”
“You are Equestrians. Have-a you ever heard the tale of-a Robbing Hood?”
Sweetie grinned. “Yeah! Oh, I love Robbing Hood! He’s so cool!”
“Hey, I know that one!” Scootaloo said, nodding excitedly. “Steals from the rich and gives to the poor, right?”
“Alternative philanthropy.” Sweetie Belle’s face caught between a smile and a grimace.
“Oh, right. Right, of course.” Apple Bloom sighed heavily. “So you expect me to the believe that you only stole that coin purse so you could―”
“Wait-a one moment.” Zoccolo put one hoof over her mouth, spun around dramatically, and stopped face to face with the gaggle of dirty foals Dinky had noticed earlier.
Dinky gasped at their gaunt faces and wide eyes. Without a word, they looked as one at Zoccolo’s soft smile. He bent to their level and extended a hoof, offering the children the dark purse full of coins.
“There are those who believe,” he said in a smooth voice as a small colt took the bag, “as the previous owner of this coin, that giving without reward is equal to throwing away.”
The colt opened the coin purse. Its contents cast a white light onto his gasping face. The other children crowded around, gave one long look at the money, and then turned back to Zoccolo with tears in their eyes.
Zoccolo nodded once, stood up, and turned to Apple Bloom. “I believe,” he said boldly, “that the children of this world hold many more promise than any amount of money.”
Voicing their thanks in Caballish, the colts and fillies tore away as one, rushing back into the thick of the market with new resources.
Apple Bloom watched them go, stunned into silence. “Ahh… I-I… uhhh…”
“I will not hurt you, children,” Zoccolo said, closing his eyes. “Never. I want-a what’s best for you, and for-a my sweet Nipota.”
With that, Zoccolo left the edge of the market and headed for another narrow street. Apple Bloom was speechless. Sweetie Belle was twitching. Dinky’s face was pale and flat.
Scootaloo, on the contrary, was positively glowing. “Cooooool!” she said, and chased after Zoccolo on imaginary clouds.
{-DD-}
As they approached the ticket window in a line, there were four employees behind the glass. Zoccolo squinted at a nearby schedule and translated out loud: “Passenger Train to Venezampa, five thirty five’.”
Scootaloo found a clock on the wall of the station. “That’s in thirty minutes! Perfect!”
“Deja vu,” Apple Bloom mumbled to herself.
Sweetie Belle gasped. “Apple Bloom! You speak Chevallian?”
“I swear, Sweetie Belle, I’m gonna hitcha in the mouth one o’ these days,” Apple Bloom suddenly growled. “I’ll feel real bad and it won’t be yer fault, but I’m gonna hitcha in the mouth.”
Sweetie blinked. She gulped, and took a long step away from the bitter farmpony.
“Where’s Venezampa?” Dinky asked.
“At the far coast of Icodalia,” Zoccolo explained, “past Pelola. We get off before the end of the line-a.”
“Is Venezampa closer to Haissan?” Apple Bloom asked harshly.
Zoccolo tilted his head left and right. “Yes, insomma. However, it is farther from the River Po, which will take you right to the Sultan’s-a palace.”
Dinky narrowed her eyes. “How did you know we’re going to the Sultan’s palace?”
Apple Bloom’s venomous look at Zoccolo doubled its dose of poison.
Zoccolo looked down at Dinky in surprise. “Is that-a your goal? Che fortuna! It is the Sultan with whom I have a business opportunity.”
“Then why’dja use it to convince us not to go to Venezuppa or whatever?”
Zoccolo sighed as the ticket line moved forward. He shuffled a bit, sat on his haunches, and raised his forehooves defensively. “Look. I’m-a sorry, Apple Bloom. I know you don’t-a trust me, and my blabbering doesn’t-a help. I’m-a very tired, and I’m mixing up ideas. Please forgive me and let-a me take you to see my Nipota. Then you can go to Venezampa if you’d like, though I promise it’s-a faster to go up-a the river.”
“Yeah, quit picking on Mister Z, Bloom!” Scootaloo said loudly. “He’s just trying to be a good guy and help out some kids, jeez.”
“Good guys don’t steal, Scootaloo,” Apple Bloom hissed back.
“Oh, yeah?” Scootaloo jerked her head at Zoccolo. “You wanna bet?”
“This. Is. Dangerous,” Apple Bloom said, casting her eyes back and forth between Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. “I don’t rightly know how much clearer I can put it. Y’all seem to be missin’ somethin’ mighty obvious to me.” She shoved her hooves at Dinky. “We’ve got three foals to save, all things considered.”
“As if I don’t know that?” Sweetie Belle guffawed. “I’ve been concerned with Dinky almost exclusively this entire trip.”
“And that’s part of the problem,” Scootaloo jabbed.
“Besides,” Sweetie Belle continued at Apple Bloom, ignoring Scootaloo entirely, “I’m with you on this. We shouldn’t be associating with a thief. But, if he’s gonna take us that close to Haissan…” Her eyes grew sad. “What choice do we have?”
“A bajillion choices!” Apple Bloom erupted. “Come on, Sweetie Belle, are you serious? We’re the Cutie Mark Crusaders! We can find another way!”
“Please girls, please,” Zoccolo whispered, glancing nervously toward the large train station’s entrance. “You can fight-a later. Just… stay quiet a moment.”
Chilled by his shift in mood, the Cutie Mark Crusaders and their honorary member slowly and discreetly twisted their necks to lay eyes on the entrance.
Past the growing line behind them, three large figures stood in between the station and the city outside, silhouetted by the light of Maredrid. As one, the huge specimens lumbered inside.
As their eyes adjusted, the Crusaders saw three black-coated bulls with giant horns wearing fitted, dapper suits that exaggerated the enormity of their bodies compared to the slenderness of their legs.
Scootaloo laughed. “Wow, what flattering suits. Think they know they look like eggs on toothpicks?”
“Ts-ts-ts-ts!” Zoccolo hissed. He grabbed Scootaloo between the ears and spun her like a top so that she faced away from the bulls. “Don’t-a stare. Let’s just pretend we’re-a not here.”
“What? Hey, let go of me!” Scootaloo threw his hoof aside.
Apple Bloom glanced back and forth between the bulls and a nervous Zoccolo. “Hmmm…” She stood up a little straighter and took in a deep breath before yelling, “But Uncle Zoccolo, we wanna go back to the marketplaaaace!”
Most of the ponies in line, along with all three bulls at the entrance, focused on their little party. One of the bulls whispered something over his shoulder, and the tough-looking trio marched straight for them.
Zoccolo glared down at Apple Bloom with eyes like slits. “Bravissima,” he coldly breathed.
“Zoccolo Leggero. We meet again,” said the bull at the front of the trio in a gruff Caballish accent.
Other ponies in line around the Cutie Mark Crusaders wilted away from the bulls, pressing into each other in order to give them space. Apple Bloom gulped and began to question her decision.
Zoccolo laughed shrilly and smiled up at the speaker. Though Zoccolo was a tall stallion, his thinness next to the hulking bull made him appear weak and very small. “Cierro! So good-a to see you, my friend. How’s-a the family?”
Cierro’s lip curled. He snorted steam through his giant nostrils. “We gotta tip you shown your face here, little pony. Very brave? Or very stupid.”
Zoccolo bowed slightly. “I like-a to think of myself as adventurous.”
The huge bull jutted forward while Zoccolo was bowed, slamming his jet-black forehead into Zoccolo’s. To the fillies’ surprise, it was the bull and not Zoccolo that stepped away clutching his head in pain.
“Ay!” Cierro pressed a cloven hoof above his eyes. “Ostras… whaddid you do?”
Zoccolo suppressed a smile. “I believe it was-a you who tried to hurt me, good sir. Do not-a blame the brick wall for its strength, amico.”
“I’ll smear you against a brick wall, little pony!” Cierro barked, frightening everyone in earshot but Zoccolo himself. “Do not pretend that you donno why we’re here.”
“Oooo, forgive me, Cierro!” Zoccolo grimaced and reached down, covering Sweetie Belle’s ears with his hooves. “I have a strict-a policy not to talk about work around-a my family.”
Cierro, still wincing in pain, cocked one heavy brow. “Family?”
“These are my nieces,” Zoccolo said, smiling. “Meet Fiore di Mela, Campanella Dolcina, Vesparè, and their dear friend, Graziosa.” He patted little Dinky’s mane at the end.
Cierro frowned deeply. “You have a… diverse family, Zoccolo.”
“Indeed! Much siblings with much children.” Zoccolo sighed. “I am a very proud uncle.”
Slowly, Cierro nodded his enormous head. “We understand family, Zoccolo. We don’t wanna… upset your nieces.” He scowled. “But you are not leaving this city until we come to an agreement, okay?”
“Agreement? On-a what?” Zoccolo smiled.
“Don’t pretend to be estupido. You know what you did to us.” The bull narrowed his beady eyes.
Zoccolo pointed at the fillies. “No. I. Don’t.” He winked.
The muscles in Cierro’s cheeks began to twitch.
Apple Bloom gulped and, against her better judgment, shouted, “We ain’t his nieces! And he’s a thief! I know it!”
The line of ponies waiting for train tickets didn’t understand her, but they were plenty surprised by her outburst. The bulls, too, zoned in on the little yellow filly.
“You are Equestrian?” Cierro asked.
“Stai zitta, Fiore,” Zoccolo hissed in a panic.
“We’re just tryin’ to get to Haissan!” Apple Bloom said. “Please, if you can help us, he’s all yers.”
“Apple Bloom, what are you doing?” Scootaloo asked.
“I don’t think this is a better plan, Bloom!” Sweetie Belle squeaked without looking away from the towering bulls.
“Bene, that’s enough for-a me,” said Zoccolo, saluting the bulls. “I think it’s-a time to go, girls.”
“You’re not leaving so fast, little ― gaaaah!” Cierro tried to reach out and grab Zoccolo by the throat, but a tiny creature scurried up his leg in a blur of violet. By the time Zuka reached the bull’s face, she was as black as his coat, and she dug her little claws into one of Cierro’s eyes while whipping the other with her tail.
“Follow me, little friends!” Zoccolo whispered, crouching low to cut through the thick of the ticket line.
Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Dinky ducked after him immediately. Apple Bloom stole a bewildered glance at the shrieking bull scraping at his own face, flanked by his shocked cohorts, before diving after her friends with panic in her eyes.
“What did you do to them, Zoccolo?” Scootaloo asked excitedly when the group burst from the far end of the long line.
“Nothing-a!” Zoccolo replied with a wide smile. “They must have me confused with another stallion! ‘Zoccolo’ is not an uncommon-a name in Icodalia.”
“Riiight, gotcha!” Scootaloo said with a devilish smirk. As they galloped out of the train station, she inched closer to his side and asked, “But really, what’d’ya do? Steal their prized nosering? Burn down their tailor shop? Kill their head honcho?”
“I’m-a not a murderer, little friend,” Zoccolo replied. “I am a peacemaker.”
Before Scootaloo had a chance to goad him on, the sound of smashing glass accompanied a rumbling roar behind them. “Zoccoloooo!”
Scootaloo checked over her shoulder. Sweetie Belle, Dinky, and Apple Bloom were sprinting right behind her. Beyond them, bursting through a window of the train station, she saw all three bulls chasing after them. “Whoa! Cool!” She beamed at Zoccolo. “Your name sounds awesome when it’s screamed like that!”
“Grazie!”
They followed the swift grey stallion back into to the open market. With the nimble energy of one much younger than himself, Zoccolo wove and slid between its many attendants, with the Cutie Mark Crusaders hot on his tail. “Scusate, scusateci!” he shouted in Itailian, too focused to translate into Caballish.
“Look out! Move it!” Scootaloo added at the top of her voice.
Some ponies began to make a path, startled by their shouts, but the noise of the market was too much for the message to get very far. What’s more, the market’s curious customers closed their own gaps as soon as Zoccolo and fillies passed by, watching them scramble onward with varying expressions of interest.
“Oh, and watch out for the bulls!” Sweetie Belle yelled at the sky.
At the far end of the market, Cierro and his hulking companions stormed into the fray, violently tossing ponies aside between their menacing horns.
“Oh no!” Sweetie squeaked as she watched one unlucky stallion flip over himself several feet in the air and smash into a nearby necklace stand.
“What?” Dinky panted, twisting her neck.
Sweetie Belle dove directly behind her, blocking the sight. “Oh, nothing! Just… it looks dense up there! Let’s keep weaving!”
Dinky nodded and followed Apple Bloom’s lead in sliding under the belly of a skinny mare. She followed Zoccolo’s wavy purple mane, bobbing up ahead above panicking patrons, and ignored the sharpness in her lungs.
The bustling square filled with screams as the bulls smashed through its ranks, smashing food and trinkets alike. “Zoccolo!” Cierro shouted again. “You won’t get away, you dirty thief!”
“I freakin’ told y’all!” Apple Bloom shouted at her friends. “Peacemaker my flank!”
“This way, girls!” Zoccolo said as the five of them exited the other end of the market. He leapt over his own cart parked under a tree and headed for an alleyway.
“Nuh uh!” Apple Bloom shouted, grinding to a halt. “That’s it for us. We’re headed our own way.”
“What!?” Scootaloo half-stopped, half-continued to follow Zoccolo on bouncing hooves. “But this trip is finally awesome!”
“I’m scared!” Dinky confessed, shivering as Sweetie Belle kept her from looking back.
“We have to do something quick, Apple Bloom!” Sweetie Belle said. “The bulls are right there!”
“Then let’s go thatta way,” Apple Bloom said sharply, pointing in the opposite direction from Zoccolo’s path. “We’ll leave the varmint to his rat-catchers and find our own way to Haissan.”
“Uggh! You never wanna do anything the fun way, do you, Apple Bloom?” Scootaloo growled. “Well, go ahead, then! I’ll meet you in Haissan with the Cake foals cradled in my hooves!” She resumed her energized chase after Zoccolo.
“But Scootaloooo!” Apple Bloom whined. “We gotta stick together!”
“I’m sorry, Apple Bloom, but I stick with what I’ve said,” Sweetie Belle babbled off quickly, ushering Dinky along in the same direction. “We’ve been hoofed a free ticket, and I’d never leave in the middle of a performance!”
“Grrrrrr!” Apple Bloom raked her hooves down her own cheeks. “Gall darn it! I hate Stirrope!” And just as the three bulls burst through the last wave of casual shoppers, Apple Bloom took up the rear of her party.
“¡La amarilla!” Cierro bellowed, pointing a cloven hoof after Apple Bloom’s yellow body.
At the other end of the ally, Zoccolo threw a smug smile at the fillies nearest him. “You know, you little ponies are-a much lucky!” he said as Apple Bloom caught up. “Many come to Caballos from all over the world to see the running of the bulls!”
He laughed at himself while the fillies shared confused glances.
“No?” Zoccolo shrugged. “Eh, chi se ne frega?” He looked over the fillies’ heads with wide eyes, grimaced, and bolted out of the alleyway.
Without looking behind them, the fillies followed suit. Zoccolo ran in a diagonal, crossing a rather busy street while putting more distance between them and the alleyway. Suddenly, he took a hard left and bolted up an almost empty steep street.
Panting hard, the fillies managed to follow him. By the time the bulls rounded the same corner, Zoccolo and the Crusaders were halfway up the hill. The slope proved even harder for the bulls to climb, given their weight.
“Yeah! Good plan!” Scootaloo shouted.
“Don’t stop-a now, girls! Into the mountain we go!”
“Huh?” Sweetie Belle looked up. The street ended up ahead in a T, with the perpendicular road dotted with tall buildings. Behind them was nothing but nature at the very top of the hill; rocks and trees alone awaited them.
“What’s the plan up there, exactly?” asked Apple Bloom. “Hide?”
“Like you’re one to ask about the details of a plan, Apple Bloom!” Scootaloo shouted back at her. “What were you trying to do, recruit the Caballish mafia into rescuing the Cake twins?”
“The bulls are-a much worse than the mafia,” Zoccolo chimed in.
“I’m just tryin’ to keep us safe, Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom seethed as they ran. “How many times do I gotta say it? I don’t trust Zoccolo!”
They funneled between two apartment buildings and continued straight, vaulting a short stone barrier into steeper, rockier territory.
“You do have a plan, though, right, Mister Zoccolo?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Because they’re still chasing us!”
“Believe me, little friends,” Zoccolo called out, slipping between two trees and ducking under low branches, “you will love what-a comes next!”
“I hiiiiighly doubt that,” Apple Bloom crowed, mostly to herself.